Off to the Wilds: Being the Adventures of Two Brothers

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

  THE BAY RUNS HIS LAST RACE.

  During the long backward journey, poor Smiler the chestnut and Toothpickthe grey succumbed to the poison of the tsetse fly, gradually waningaway so, poor beasts, that Mr Rogers felt glad when on one occasion alion leaped upon the half-dead chestnut and dragged it down--dying inthe act though, for Dick's rifle sent a bullet crashing through themonster's head.

  There was the same feeling about poor Toothpick the grey, which lay downto rest one night, and was found stretched out dead the next morning.

  The bay, however, held out; and it was wonderful what vitality hepossessed. Poor beast! he was faithful to the end, his last act beingthe saving of his master's life.

  They had out-spanned one night at the edge of avast plain, meaning tostart again early the next morning; but as they rose and gazed at thevast expanse of sun-dried grass and bushes, dotted all over with greatherds of pallah, koodoo, hartebeeste, and springbok, with zebras andquaggas, more than they had before seen, both Mr Rogers and the boysfelt that they must have one more day's hunting amongst them; and, eachwith his faithful Zulu, they set off to try and stalk one of the herds.

  The horses were brought into requisition, and the miles of spaceintervening was got over before, by means of his glass, Mr Rogers sawthat they were not alone in the field.

  He could just discern horsemen and a waggon on the far side of theplain, miles away, but their shapes distinctly visible with the glass inthat pure atmosphere, as they lay on a distant ridge, the waggonstanding out against the sky.

  They had excellent sport, consequent upon the party on the other sidedriving the game in their direction, and, lured on by the fascination ofthe pursuit, Mr Rogers had gone farther and farther, till suddenly heheard a shout from the General.

  He needed no telling why the Zulu had been guilty of so unsportsmanlikea proceeding, for on his right, travelling before the wind at atremendous rate, was a perfect hurricane of fire. By some means theBoers on the other side had set light to the thick dry grass and bushes,and to his horror Mr Rogers saw that unless he could get back to wherehe had left his horse and gallop off, he would be overtaken by theflames.

  What was worse, he found that the fiery tempest might overtake his sonsunawares, for the probabilities were that the horses would not stand.

  Signing to the Zulu to run to the horse, he set off himself, with theair becoming thick and murky with smoke, so that he feared that he hadlost his way. But, to his intense delight, upon turning the corner of aclump of bushes there stood the faithful bay where he had left it, andwith the Zulu at its head holding the reins.

  Mr Rogers leaped into the saddle, the General caught hold of the mane,and away they went at a rapid trot in the direction in which the boyswere believed to be. But the fire gained upon them so fast that therider insisted upon the Zulu mounting behind him, in spite of hisremonstrances.

  "Quick!" he cried angrily.

  On this the General leaped up behind, and they went at full gallop,tearing over the ground, the bay straining its sinews to the utmost,while, as he saw the fire gaining upon him fast, Mr Rogers' heart sankwithin him, for he could see no sign of either Dick or Jack, and yet hewas obliged to dash on, for the fire was wrapping round from his left asif to cut him off.

  "Where are the boys?" he groaned as he reached the top of a smalleminence, and drew rein to look around.

  "There!" cried the Zulu, pointing.

  To his great relief Mr Rogers saw the boys galloping towards him,evidently coming to his aid.

  Waving his hand to them to go back, he galloped down, and before longhad overtaken them, and they rode on side by side, each with a Zulubehind his saddle, for the fire seemed to come on now with lightningspeed.

  "The waggon stands just in the way of the fire, boys," groaned MrRogers, "and we shall never save it unless the oxen are alreadyin-spanned."

  It seemed to be only too true, and they urged on the horses to theirfullest speed.

  It was a race for life, and they could hear the flames roaring hungrilybehind them as they tore along, the horses needing neither whip nor spurto send them at their best pace over the crackling grass.

  "Hurrah!" cried Jack. "I see the waggon."

  "And the oxen?" cried Mr Rogers.

  "Yes, father--in-spanned. And they are flying from the fire!"

  Mr Rogers uttered a prayer of thankfulness as he rode on, till at theend of a quarter of an hour they were close up with the waggon, whilethe oxen, with Dirk the foreloper at the head and Peter on the box, weregoing along in a clumsy gallop, urged by the shouts of their drivers andtheir natural dread of the fire, coming after them with the fury of awhirlwind.

  The smoke was now blinding, the heat increasing, and it was hard work tocheck the horses, who strove to gallop madly away as soon as they werelightened of half their loads; for Coffee and Chicory followed theexample of their father in leaping down and running to the side of theteam to help urge on the frightened oxen, till they plunged along intheir clumsy race.

  Faster and faster in the wild race for life! the flames roaring as theycame nearer! the waggon thundering over the ground, swaying from side toside, and threatening each moment to overturn!

  Twice it ran upon two wheels for some distance, and the boys knew thatif a stone of any size was met the waggon must be irretrievably wrecked,and they saw in anticipation the flames overtaking it, scorching up thevaluables it contained, and ending by reaching the ammunition, wheneverything must be blown to atoms.

  Mr Rogers felt that the case was hopeless. The flames were close uponthem, and he was about to shout to the people to cut loose the oxen andleave the waggon to its fate, when he saw Dick spring forward to theside of the Zulu, who was with Dirk the foreloper, by the leading oxen.

  Mr Rogers could not hear what his son said in the deafening roar, buthe saw him point, and the foreloper and the General urged the leadingoxen out of the course they were taking before the flames to one nearlyat right angles, turning them so sharply that the waggon again nearlyoverset. It rose upon two wheels, but sank back on the others with acrash; the oxen lumbered along in their awkward gallop, and the wholebusiness seemed madness.

  Five minutes later, though, the leader saw that his son's act had beenguided by sound reasoning, for he had directed the team into a broadopen space where there was nothing to feed the flames. The consequencewas that as the wall of fire reached the edge of the opening itgradually flickered out there, but rushed along on either side in twovolumes of flame, which joined hands, as it were, below them, and thefire went roaring along as swiftly as before.

  Where they were grouped, in the midst of the open space, they felt thescorching, were blinded by the smoke, and had a hard matter to keep thebeasts quiet, the leopard howling dismally, and the giraffe thrustingits head beneath the back of the waggon-tilt, while the horses snortedand plunged, and the oxen shook their heads, elevated their tails, andbehaved unpleasantly to each other with their horns.

  But the danger was past, and at the end of an hour they were able totrek on over the blackened plain, till they reached the first pool,where, unpromising as everything was, they were glad to outspan and restfor a few hours before once more resuming their journey.

  But there was no renewal of the journey for the bay. Poor beast, it hadused up its remaining strength in that, last gallop, and when the timehad come for the renewal of the journey the bay was lying down.

  Mr Rogers spoke to it, and the poor animal made an effort to rise, butmerely laid its head quietly down again, uttering a low sigh--and thefaithful beast was dead.