CHAPTER TEN.
ANSON'S BLESSING.
"Bless 'em!" said Anson to himself that same evening, "I don't wish 'emany harm. I only hope that before they've gone far the Boers willchallenge them.
"I can almost see it now: getting dark, and an outpost challenges.`Come on, gallop!' says old Ingle, and they stick their spurs into theirnags and are off over the veldt. Then _crack, cracky crack_, go therifles till the saddles are emptied and two gallant defenders ofKimberley and brave despatch-riders lie kicking in the dust.
"Ugh! How. I should like to be there with my flute. I'd stand andlook on till they'd given their last kick and stretched themselves outstraight, and then I'd play the `Dead March' in `Saul' all over 'emboth. Don't suppose they'd know; but if they could hear it theywouldn't sneer at my `tootling old flute'--as Ingle called it--any more.
"Urrrr! I hated the pair of 'em. Ingle was a hound--a regularsniffing, smelling-out hound, and Noll West a miserable, sneaking cur.Beasts! So very good and nice and straightforward. Hundreds ofthousands of pounds' worth--yes, millions' worth of diamonds beingscraped together by the company, and a poor fellow not allowed to have ahandful. I don't say it's the thing to steal 'em; but who would steal?Just a bit of nice honest trade--buy in the cheapest market and sell inthe dearest. It's what the company does, but nobody else ought to, ofcourse. Who's going to ask every Kaffir who comes to you and says: `Buya few stones, baas?' `Where do you get 'em from?' Not me. They've asgood a right to 'em as the company, and if I like to do a bit of honesttrade I will, in spite of the miserable laws they make. Hang theirlaws! What are they to me? Illicit-diamond-buying! Police force, eh?A snap of the fingers for it!
"A bit sooner than I expected," mused the flute-player. "A few monthsmore, and I should have made a very big thing if the Boers hadn't upsetit all and Master Ingle hadn't been so precious clever! Never mind: itisn't so very bad now! I'll be off while my shoes are good. I don'tbelieve the Boers have got round to the south yet, and, if they have, Idon't believe it'll matter. Say they do stop me, it'll only be: `Whoare you--and where are you going?' Down south or west or anywhere, todo a bit of trade. I'm sloping off--that's what I'm doing--because theBritish are trying to force me to volunteer to fight against my oldfriends the Boers. I'll soft-soap and butter 'em all over, and play 'ema tune or two upon the flute, and offer 'em some good tobacco. Theywon't stop me."
The quiet, plump, thoughtful-looking muser was on his way to a farm justbeyond the outskirts of Kimberley, as he walked slowly through thedarkness, hardly passing a soul; and he rubbed his hands softly at lastas he came in sight of a dim gleaming lantern some distance ahead.
"All ready and waiting," he said softly, and now he increased his pace alittle in his excitement, but only to stop short and look back once ortwice as if to make sure that he was not followed. But, neither seeingnor hearing anything, he rubbed his hands again, muttered to himselfsomething about wiping his shoes of the whole place, and went onquickly.
"Das you, baas?" said a thick guttural voice just above the lantern.
"Yes, this is me," replied Anson. "Team in-spanned?"
"Yaas, baas: big long time ago. Not tink baas come."
"But I said I would," replied Anson. "Got the water-barrel slungunderneath?"
The man grunted, Anson gave an order or two in a low tone, and inresponse to a shout a dimly-seen team of great bullocks roughlyharnessed to the dissel boom and trek tow of a long covered-in wagonbegan to trudge slowly along over the rough track which led to the mainroad leading south. A second man led the way, while the Kaffir with thelight swung himself up onto the great box in front of the wagon and drewout an unusually long whip, after hanging his horn lantern to a hook inthe middle of the arched tilt over his head.
"Baas come alon' heah?" said the man.
"No, go on, and I'll walk behind for a bit," said Anson, in a low toneof voice. "Go on quietly, and keep off the track. Go straight awaytill I tell you to turn off."
The Kaffir grunted, and the oxen plodded on at their slowtwo-mile-an-hour rate, leaving the last sign of occupation far behind,Anson twice over giving instructions to the man who was leading whichway to steer, the result being that the creaking wagon was driven rightaway south and west over the open veldt, avoiding the various farms andplaces till Kimberley was left far behind.
It was a bright starlit night, and the long procession of big bullockslooked weird and strange in the gloom, for at times they seemed to bedrawing nothing, so closely did the tilt of the great lightly-loadedwagon assimilate with the drab dusty tint of the parched earth and thedusky-coloured scrub which the great wheels crushed down.
The driver sat on the box with his huge whip, his shoulders well up andhis head down, driving mechanically, and seeming to be asleep, while thevoorlooper kept pace with the leading oxen, and hour after hour passedaway without a word being spoken.
So the night wore on, the only watchful eyes being those of Anson, whokept on straining them forward right and left, while his ears twitchedas he listened for the sounds which he knew would be uttered by a Boervedette.
But no challenge came, and the fugitive breathed more freely as thestars paled, a long, low, sickly streak began to spread in the east, andthe distance of the wide-spreading desolate veldt grew more clear.
"I knew they wouldn't be on the look-out," said Anson to himself, in anexulting fashion. "Hah! I'm all right, and I wonder how West and Inglehave got on."
It was growing broad daylight when the thoughtful-looking ex-clerkclimbed up to the side of the driver.
"How far to the fontein?" he said.
"One hour, baas," was the reply.
"Is there plenty of grass?"
"Plenty, baas. Bullock much eat and drink."
The information proved quite correct, for within the specified time--theteam having stepped out more readily, guided as they were by theirinstinct to where water, grass, and rest awaited them--and soon afterthe great orange globe had risen above what looked like the rim of theworld, the wagon was pulled up at the edge of a broad crack in the dustyplain, where the bottom of the spruit could be seen full of rich greengrass besprinkled with flowers, through which ran the clear waters of anabundant stream.
A fire was soon lighted, a billy hung over it to boil, and Anson, afterwatching the team, which had dragged their load so well and so far,munching away at the juicy grass, began to get out the necessariesconnected with his own meal.
"Hah!" he said softly, as he rubbed his hands; "sorry I haven't got mytwo fellow-clerks to breakfast: it would have been so nice and Ugh!" hegrowled, shading his eyes to give a final look round, for there in thedistance, evidently following the track by which he had come through thenight, there was a little knot of horsemen cantering along, and fromtime to time there came a flash of light caused by the horizontal beamsof the sun striking upon rifle-barrel or sword.
Anson's hands dropped to his sides, and he looked to right, left, andbehind him as if meditating flight. Then his eyes went in the directionof his oxen, freshly outspanned, but he turned frowningly away as hefelt that even with the team already in their places, the lumberingbullocks could not have been forced into a speed which the horses couldnot have overtaken in a few yards at a canter.
Then he shaded his eyes again to have a good look at the party ofhorsemen.
"Police," he said, in a hiss. "Yes, and that's Norton. _Hfff_!"
He drew in his breath, making a peculiar sound, and then, as ifsatisfied with the course he meant to pursue, he went back to the fireand continued his preparations for his meal, apparently paying no heedto the party of mounted police till they cantered up and came to a haltby the wagon.
"Hallo, constables!" cried Anson boisterously; "who'd have thought ofseeing--Why, it's you, Mr Norton!"
"Yes," said the superintendent. "You seem surprised!"
"Why, of course I am. Got something on the way? Anyone been smugglingstones?"
"Yes," said the officer s
hortly.
"Sorry for them then, for I suppose you mean to catch 'em."
"I do," said the officer warningly.
"That's right; I'm just going to have some breakfast: will you have asnack with me?"
"No, thank you. I'm on business."
"Ah, you are a busy man, Mr Norton; but let bygones be bygones. Have asnack with me! You're welcome."
"I told you I was on business, Master Anson. Now, if you please, whereare you going?"
"Where am I going?" said Anson warmly. "Why, down south. What's thegood of my staying in Kimberley?"
"I can't answer that question, sir. Where's your pass?"
"Pass? What pass?"
"Your permit from the magistrate to leave the town."
"Permit? Nonsense!" cried Anson. "I'm turned out of the mine offices,and I'm not going to sit and starve. No one will give me work without acharacter. You know that."
The superintendent nodded.
"Perhaps not," he said; "but you are still a suspect, and you have noright to leave the town."
"I'm not a prisoner," said Anson defiantly, "and I'm going on my lawfulway. What have you to say to that?"
"In plain English, that I believe you are going off to escape arrest andto carry off your plunder."
"My what? Plunder? Why, it's sickening! Didn't you come to my placeand thoroughly search it?"
"I did search your room, but found nothing, because I believe you hadeverything too well hidden. Now then, if you please, what have you gotin your wagon?"
"Nothing but provisions and my clothes! Why?"
"Because of your sudden flight."
"My sudden what?" said Anson, laughing.
"You know what I said, sir. Your sudden flight!"
"My sudden nonsense!" cried Anson angrily. "I have told you why I cameaway."
"Yes," said the superintendent; "but I'm not satisfied that this movedoes not mean that you have smuggled diamonds here with you to carry towhere you can dispose of them."
"Well, it's of no use to argue with a policeman," said Anson coolly."You had better make another search."
A Dash from Diamond City Page 10
