of the good viewwhich a bit of boulder gave them, must needs stand on their hind-legs toadd to their elevation; then it was bang, bang, right and left, andbang, bang, left and right _ad libitum_, or as fast at least as therabbits appeared. Did they kill all they fired at? Oh! no, not by avery great deal. Many downed to the flash, and many that were knockedover succeeded in reaching the friendly shelter of their holes, and itis to be hoped, for their sakes, that their hospital arrangements wereas complete as possible, else many of these poor curious creatures musthave suffered a good deal more than our heroes meant them to.
On their way to and from these little shooting excursions snakes wereshot wherever seen, whip snakes and sand snakes, black snakes andcobras.
"It's no sin to slay a snake," Fred would say, "and it expends theammunition, you know."
Well, this sort of life was certainly less slow than lotus-eating, but aweek of it was enough. They felt "crowded," as the Yankees call it,even at Cape Town. They wanted to be off and away into the wilds; theonly question was how to get into the interior. The subject wasbroached one day at the _table d'hote_, at which they were dining, andChisholm thought the best plan would be to hire a dhow to take them onto Zanzibar.
"For it strikes me," he said, "that it is quite the orthodox plan tostart for the interior of Africa by way of Zanzibar, just as it is to goto New York from Liverpool."
"It is," said a gentleman present, "but you'll find it slow work gettingto Zanzibar in a dhow, and precious rough work too. I'm Commander Lyellof the _Dodo_; my gunboat sails to-morrow for Zanzibar. I've heard youmention my uncle's name, General Lyell, and if you like to rough it withme, I'll take you."
A nephew of General Lyell! This was news indeed, to Frank at least; andit is needless to say the offer was gladly accepted.
Three spare cots were rigged in the Commander's cabin, and in every waythey were made as comfortable as could be.
Half a gale of wind was what they had to start with, up the Mozambique;next day it had increased to nearly hurricane force. They saw manyships lying-to, but the _Dodo_ did nothing of that sort; wet enoughthough, she was in all conscience, in fact she seemed to spend most ofher time under instead of over the waves; very wet she was, and likewisevery lively, but she made a good passage, and in little over a week, shehad cast anchor in a beautiful wooded hay on the African coast, wherewhite-roofed houses, close by the shore, peeped out through the greeneryof trees.
"There is a bit of fun to be got not far from here," said Captain Lyell,"for a day's journey beyond the little Portuguese village there, theantelope swarm, and horses, too, are procurable, by paying for them."
Frank was a splendid horseman, and his delight at the prospect of a huntwas unbounded.
Horses they could and did procure, and wild and unmanageable brutes theyproved at first, but after the third day they became quiet enough.Their way led through a most beautiful well-timbered undulating country,and travelling was far from difficult, but as they journeyed moreinland, and bore more to the north, not only their difficulties, buttheir dangers too, increased; the land got more rugged and mountainous,the jungles more dense and impenetrable, and the forests grew darker anddeeper. They found themselves, too, bordering on a country, theinhabitants of which were far from friendly, and it was then they foundtheir Portuguese guides of the greatest of use; they could speak thelanguage of these savages, and their relations with them were therelations of trade. Portuguese the natives could bear with. Englishmenthey both feared and hated. But little cared our heroes; in fact theytreated the blacks with the coolest indifference, and probably that wasthe best way they could have treated them.
Many a lordly antelope fell to their guns, they had days on days of goodsport, and the very dangers that surrounded them, seemed only to maketheir life in the bush all the more enjoyable. A glorious hunt Frankhad one day all to himself. It was a ride he is never likely to forget,either, for it came nigh costing him dear life itself. Out on the openplain one morning, though but a little way from the camp, he started afine buck. It seemed positively to invite him to the chase; well, hishorse was fresh, he was fresh himself, a ten miles' run he thought woulddo them both good, and yonder was the deer, so off he went. Off wentman and horse, and buck, but the latter seemed never to tire, and theplain over which he rode seemed interminable. Hours flew by; thenFrank's horse began to flag, for he must have ridden thirty miles in abee line; so the buck won the day, he took to cover in a small bit ofscrub, and from that he would not be moved. If he had, Frank thought,but one good hound, he could rest his horse, then start the chase, andprobably turn him again towards the camp, and thus finish a day thatwould make the roaster of Her Majesty's Staghounds envy him even to readof it. But no, he must mount his horse again and ride back. Back?Yes, it seemed about the easiest thing in the world to find his wayback; but when, after journeying on and on all the day, without seeing asign or token of the camp he had left, when, faint and weary, he saw thesun dipping slowly downwards to the western horizon, then his heart sankwithin him, and for the first time he realised the terribleness of hissituation--_he was lost_! Lost! and it mattered little to him now whichway he rode; he allowed the bridle to hang loose on the neck of hisjaded horse, his own chin to fall on his breast; a sense of wearinesscrept over him that almost induced sleep, and more than once he nearlyslipped from the saddle. Presently it was night, and big bright starsshone over him, which he did not care even to glance at. He only felttired, cold, sleepy.
"Coo--oo--ee!" Hark! does he dream? No, for list! once again that longunearthly yell. The horse pricks up his ears and neighs. Frank seizesthe bridle, and once more listens himself, for well he knows what hehears is the night-shout of the outpost African sentinels. In tenminutes more he is beside the camp-fire. Thanks to the sagacity of thatgood horse.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
CRUISING IN THE DODO--THE BLUEBELL--HOW OYSTERS GROW ON TREES--AWAY UPTHE BEAUTIFUL RIVER--THE BLUEBELL AGROUND--NOONTIDE ON THE RIVER.
On board the _Dodo_ once more, steaming steadily northwards; some timesfar out at sea, with nothing but the blue all round them: sometimeshugging the green-wooded shore: sometimes casting anchor at the mouthsof mighty rivers, and sending armed boats away to seek for the slavedhows that hid all day under the hanging boughs, and stole out to sea atnight. Chisholm, the oldest of our heroes, confessed he had neverenjoyed a voyage so much in his life. At last, however, they castanchor in Zanzibar, and were nothing loth to go on shore to stretchtheir legs. The captain accompanied them in his gig, dressed in fulluniform--cocked-hat, epaulettes, and sword. He was going to visit theConsulate, and expected news of some importance.
Accompanied by a black boy, who wore no clothes worth mentioning, butcould speak English and prided himself thereon, they went for a grandtour of inspection. The streets were narrow, long, and winding, andoftentimes bridged over at the top, so that the residents in one housecould cross over to see their friends on the other side of the way,without the trouble of coming downstairs. There was a singular absenceof windows in the houses of the gentlemen Arabs, Banians, or Hindus;every room of which, although furnished luxuriantly, is very dark andcool. In the bazaar and in the streets where the shops were, there washardly any moving along, so great was the motley crowd, and, saving thewomen and the innumerable slaves, every one they met was armed to theteeth. The warrior Arabs, with their long flowing hair, dressed inembroidered robes of snowy white, with cloaks of camel's hair, gildedturbans and jewelled sword-belts, looked boldly picturesque; thesemingled in the streets with--white-gowned Hindus, and long-faced,dark-coated Parsees; sailors in blue and soldiers in scarlet, and sacredsolemn-looking cows with gilded horns, which many a one touched withfond reverence, as they walked quietly along. And the background of allthis picture was slavery; slavery panting and perspiring as it draggeditself along in chains; slavery cowering under the lash of the driver'swhip; slavery bent to the ground under loads of cowrie shells; slavery,dark unhappy slavery.
Our
heroes were glad to find themselves at last out in the green andflowery country, wandering under the shade of giant trees, and inhalingthe sweet perfume of orange blossom. The first person they met on theirreturn from shore was Captain Lyell himself. He shook hands with themall round, at which they were not a little surprised, but they could seeby his face there was something in the wind.
"Come down below," he said. When he got them there he continued, "I'vegot good news, gentlemen, in fact, I may say glorious news; let me tellit to you all in one sentence. First, then, I'm promoted; I'm nowCaptain Lyell in reality, and not by courtesy alone; secondly, I'm goinghome--another officer has arrived to take command of the _Dodo_;thirdly, I've applied to the Commodore for four months' leave; fourthly,I've got it; fifthly and lastly, I've hired a pretty little
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