The War of the Axe; Or, Adventures in South Africa

by J. Percy Groves

after-supper pipes and chatting over old times. "I hearthe sound of their horses' gallop."

  "But you did not expect to see them much before noon to-morrow," saidMr Weston in a tone of surprise. "They would never have returned sosoon! You must be mistaken, Mat."

  "There are horses galloping in this direction, that I'll swear to,"rejoined his friend, who had risen to his feet and was listeningattentively. "And what's more, they're coming towards us at atremendous pace. What say you, Keown?"

  Kneeling down, Patrick Keown placed his ear to the ground; and after alengthened pause, replied: "They're horses, shure enough, sorr; but, bythe beat of their gallop, I fear there's never a sowl on their backs.No, sorr, there's no doubt about that," he presently added. "Andthey're slackening pace now."

  At that moment, as if to prove the truth of the ex-sergeant's words, tworiderless horses cantered quickly up, and halted a few paces from thecamp fire; they were those upon which Tom and George had ridden afterthe hartebeest in the morning!

  The Major and Mr Weston stared at each other in consternation.

  The horses were covered with sweat and dirt, and their distendednostrils and heaving, foam-flecked flanks bore silent but convincingtestimony that they must have travelled some distance at a stretchinggallop; whilst one of them--George's grey--had an ugly wound on his nearshoulder.

  "Mat," said Mr Weston huskily, his face betraying his agitation andalarm, "the poor lads must have come to grief--possibly they have beenattacked, and--and murdered by natives!"

  "I trust not, my dear Maurice; nay, I am sure that such is not thecase," answered the Major.

  "In the first place, the natives would have been nearly certain tosecure the horses; and in the second place--"

  "This wound in the grey's shoulder was inflicted by a wild baste, not ahuman cratur," interrupted Keown, who had caught George's horse. "Lookye, Misther Weston, there are the marks of the brute's claws as plain asa pike-staff."

  "There's no mistake about it," said Major Flinders, stooping down andexamining the grey's shoulder; "this is a tiger's work. Maurice," headded, "you and Patrick Keown must remain here, whilst I take Williamand go in search of the poor boys."

  "I would rather go with you, Mat," replied the other.

  "No, old friend, do you remain here, the Hottentot is an admirable`tracker,' and I could not do without him. Patrick, saddle up at once."

  A couple of horses were quickly saddled, and Major Flinders and BlackWilliam mounted.

  "Is there any hope, Mat?" whispered Mr Weston, as he wrung his friend'shand at parting.

  "We must hope for the best, Maurice," was the doubtful reply.

  It was a bright moonlight night, and the Hottentot had no difficulty infollowing the back track of the horses, as he and his master went overthe ground at a hand-gallop. The Major's heart was heavy, for he fearedthe worst; and for some time he rode along in silence.

  "What think you, William?" said he at length. "Is there any hope thatthe young gentlemen are alive?"

  Black William shook his woolly head, saying: "I think tiger pull BaasGeorge from his horse, and dat Baas Tom try to save him. But tiger toostrong for yong baas to fight."

  The Major's heart sank within him: not that he had had much hope fromthe first; and he bitterly reproached himself for having allowed theboys to go off alone. Day was beginning to dawn when they came in sightof the range of hills over which the herd had disappeared when chased bythe boys; here the `spoor' of the hartebeest was very distinct, and theHottentot, tracking them to the foot of the hill, pointed out to hismaster where they had crossed. Hope then revived in the Major's breast,for it struck him that the boys might have followed the game afoot, andduring their absence the horses must have broken loose and gallopedoff--frightened most probably by some wild beast.

  "We will off-saddle for an hour or so, William," said he, drawing reinand dismounting near the entrance to the ravine. "And do you ascend thehills, and--"

  "Vat dat, baas?" cried Black William, as a rifle-shot echoed amongst thehills--a shot that had evidently been fired at no great distance fromthe spot where they stood.

  "The boys!" shouted Major Flinders; "the boys, no doubt! Come on, man."

  And springing into his saddle, he put spurs to his horse and rode up theravine at full gallop, followed by the Hottentot.

  When Tom Flinders recovered consciousness he staggered to his feet andtook a look around him.

  A few paces up the ravine lay George Weston; the dead leopard was alittle further on; but the horses were nowhere to be seen.

  "This is pleasant!" said Tom, feeling himself all over to make sure thatno bones were broken. "How my poor head does ache, to be sure; thattiger must have caught me a thundering lick with his paw! I do hopepoor old George isn't done for," he added, kneeling down by the side ofhis friend; "he got it far worse than I did. Halloa, George! how areyou, old chap?"

  At the sound of his friend's voice George Weston's senses partially cameback to him, and--much to Tom's relief--he made an attempt to raise hishead; but he had been sorely mauled by the leopard, and was quite unableto speak, or help himself.

  Seeing this, Tom looked about for a suitable place to take him, andpresently hit upon a small cavity in the hillside: thither he carriedthe senseless boy, and proceeded to dress his wounds as well as he wasable; for George was much hurt, the leopard having severely laceratedhis thigh with her formidable claws, besides biting him right throughthe forearm.

  However, Tom made him as comfortable as possible; then, seeing thatnothing more could be done until morning, he gathered some boughs,brushwood, and large stones, and with them built up a rough breastworkin front of the cavity--which might be described as a small cave aboutsix feet deep, by five or six in height. Then he dragged the deadleopard within it, secured George's rifle and the shattered remains ofhis own, and, after a heart-felt prayer of thankfulness for his escape,lay down beside his friend, and fell fast asleep.

  The day was breaking when Tom Flinders was awakened by a violent blow onthe legs. Jumping to his feet, he seized his rifle and looked over thebreastwork; his appearance was immediately hailed by a loud chattering,and a volley of stones and other missiles came whizzing about his ears.

  "Niggers!" Tom exclaimed, bringing his rifle to the "ready;" "but wherethe dickens are they?"

  "Hi! what on earth are you about?" he shouted, as a big piece of rockknocked off his hat. "You're an uncommon good shot, no doubt," he wenton, ducking down in order to escape another stony "projectile;" "but ifI catch a glimpse of you, I'll let you know that it is not a rook you'repegging at."

  As the boy spoke he caught sight of a dark active form swinging itselffrom tree to bush on the opposite side of the ravine; without a moment'sthought, he raised his rifle and pulled the trigger, and down came thefigure by the run.

  "There!" cried Tom angrily, for his temper was considerably ruffled."I'll teach you to make a cock-shy of me!" But now the ravine resoundedwith ear-splitting cries, and to Tom's utter amazement a whole troop ofbaboons appeared amongst the trees and bushes; and, after gibbering andgrimacing round their deceased brother for a few seconds, they suddenlyscampered off, springing from rock to rock, from tree to tree withmarvellous agility, until they were lost to view.

  "Why, hang it all! I must have bowled over a monkey!" was the boy'sexclamation. "Poor brute! I wish I hadn't been quite so ready with myrifle."

  The next moment Major Flinders and Black William appeared in sight, andwith a wild shout of delight Tom jumped over his barricade and ran tomeet them.

  The Major looked very grave when he examined poor George's wounds, forhe at once saw that they were of a serious, if not of a highlydangerous, character--such, in fact, as called for skilled treatment.If the boy's life was to be saved, it would be necessary to procuremedical assistance as soon as possible. Now the nearest place whereMajor Flinders could make certain of finding a surgeon was Fort Crause,a small town and military post situated some thirty-five miles to the
east-north-east: and to Fort Crause he resolved to carry the lad withoutany delay.

  "We must start at once, you and I, Tom," said the Major, as he scribbleda few hasty lines on a leaf torn from his pocket-book. "William willtake this note back to Weston; I have briefly related what has occurred,and told him to join us at Fort Crause."

  "And what is to become of Patrick Keown and the horses, father? Arethey to follow us, or wait until we return to the Gamska?"

  "Keown will come on with Weston, and we shall have to change our route,and return