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Off to the Wilds, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 9. An Awful Ford To Cross

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_ CHAPTER NINE. AN AWFUL FORD TO CROSS

It was a wonderful relief, and following the example of the animals, every one waded into the cool stream above the oxen, and drank deeply of the delicious water.

"Oh, I say, father," cried Jack, "I never thought water was so good before. This _is_ a river."

And really Jack had an idea that he had tumbled upon a stream whose waters were wine-like in their flavour; and but for a few words of warning he would have gone on drinking more deeply still.

"Thank goodness!" cried Mr Rogers, as soon as he could gain his breath. "But what an escape! The waggon nearly went over. Where is that scoundrel of a Zulu? Oh there you are," he cried excitedly. "How dared you touch the oxen, sir! Your mad folly nearly spoiled our journey."

The General looked back at Mr Rogers, drawing himself up in savage pride, and his eyes seemed to flash in the darkness; but he did not speak, only turned away with a dignified look of displeasure.

"I know why he did it, father," cried Dick, excitedly. "Look, don't you see? The ground slopes down here to the water. Up there it's all rock, and the team would have gone over a precipice. See, it's twenty feet deep."

"Of course! To be sure!" cried Mr Rogers eagerly. "His keen sight showed him the danger. I beg your pardon, my man," he cried, "I did not know the reason, and ought not to have acted and spoken so rashly."

He held out his hand to the stern scowling Zulu, as he spoke; but for a moment the savage hot blood that had been roused by his leader's injustice refused to be tamed down, and he remained with his arms folded; but glancing at Dick's eager countenance, and recalling how it was due to him that the real truth of his actions was made known, the General let his better feelings prevail, and snatching Mr Rogers' hand in his, he held it for a moment to his broad breast, and then let it fall.

"Why you saved the waggon," said Mr Rogers, after walking to the edge of the sudden descent where the rock went down sheer to the water, which bubbled and foamed against its side.

"Yes; all gone over together," said the General quietly. "Now all go across."

"But is it wise--is it safe--to attempt to cross to-night?" said Mr Rogers.

"Will see," replied the General; and going down into the water, he walked straight out past the heads of the oxen, literally disappearing into the darkness as he waded on.

"Isn't he very brave to do that, father?" asked Jack, who had watched the Zulu go from where they stood by the hind part of the waggon, whose back wheels were on the dry sand.

"Coffee no 'fraid to go," said that young gentleman.

"Chicory go too after father," said his brother; and the two boys dashed into the rushing water past the oxen, and then disappeared.

"What madness!" said Mr Rogers. "Why the stream runs swiftly enough for them to be swept away."

Both Jack and Dick gazed eagerly out over the swift river; but the black figures of the young Zulus seemed to disappear in the darkness, and for some few minutes there was an excited pang while they listened to the bubbling of the water against the fore wheels of the waggon, or the plashing made by the oxen as they lazily moved their legs, apparently enjoying the pleasant coolness of the water after their toilsome march.

"I ought not to have allowed them to go," said Mr Rogers suddenly. "Here, Dinny, bring me the bay. I'll mount, and try and ride over to their help."

"Bring the what, sor?" said Dinny.

"The bay," cried Mr Rogers. "Quick, man! quick!"

"An' how'll I be getting at him, sor?" said Dinny. "Sure he's standing out there in the wather catching cowld, and I couldn't reach him widout getting very wet."

"Why you did wade in to drink," cried Jack, indignantly.

And with a rush and a splash he ran into the water, to where he could dimly make out the form of the big bay; and catching it by the halter, he drew it after him, the rest of the thirst-quenched horses coming _plash_! _plash_! out of the water, and following the bay like so many sheep.

Mr Rogers was about to mount, when the General's voice was heard hailing Peter and Dirk; and directly after their hearts were set at rest about Coffee and Chicory, who could be heard laughing in the darkness.

"All shallow water," cried the General. "Trek, Peter; trek, Dirk. Good place all across."

Mr Rogers hesitated as to the advisability of crossing in the darkness; but the oxen were already in, the waggon was also nearly in the river, and if allowed to stay for a few hours it would probably sink deeply in the sand. So, leaving his men to pursue their own course, he also waded in, while Dirk cracked his whip, Peter mounted on to the box and followed suit, and Klipmann, the black bullock, headed on into the stream. The shadowy-looking team could be dimly seen to straighten out; there was a heavy pull at the waggon, and another, and another, before its fore wheels were extricated from the sand in which they were sinking fast, showing the wisdom of at once proceeding; and then, _plash_! _plash_! and with the water rushing against them, the party began to cross.

"My! how strong the current is," cried Jack.

"Take hold of the waggon, my boy," said Mr Rogers.

But as the water did not come up to his waist, Jack did not mind. And so the heavy load was dragged slowly through the stream.

"I say, Jack," said Dick, suddenly, just as they started, "there are crocodiles in these rivers, ain't there?"

"Oh, murther!" ejaculated Dinny, who had gone into the water very unwillingly, and had wanted to ride, but Mr Rogers had refused to have the waggon loaded any more, preferring himself to walk.

Then there was a rush and a splash, that passed unnoticed in the bustle of crossing; and at the end of ten minutes, by the General's guidance the team was led to a gentle slope, which they easily mounted, and dragged the dripping waggon forth on to a level grassy plain.

The horses had followed, to stand about snorting and stamping, fresh and bright with their bathe; and it was now determined, dark as it was, to trek on for a couple of miles to a rich grassy spot that the General said was ahead, and would be a good place for outspanning and camp, when a dismal yell was heard from the farther shore.

"What's that?" exclaimed Mr Rogers.

But no one answered.

"Some one must be in the river," cried Dick, excitedly. "Where's Coffee?"

"Here Coffee," cried the Zulu boy, who had quite accepted his name.

"Then who is it?" said Jack, looking round in the darkness. "Here's Chicory."

"Why, it's Dinny," cried Dick. "Ahoy! Dinny!"

"Ahoy! Help now, Masther Dick, sor," came from some distance off.

"The poor fellow is being swept down the river," exclaimed Mr Rogers, leaping on the bay to ford or swim down to the drowning man. "Dinny! Shout, man! Where are you?" he cried.

"Sure, I'm here. How'll I get over at all?" came back.

"What! Are you ashore?" cried Mr Rogers.

"Yis, sor."

"Then wade across, man. It isn't deep."

"Sure, sor, and I daren't."

"Dare not!" cried Jack. "Why we did."

"Yis, sor; but a great baste of a thing laid howlt o' me, and I had to go back."

"Are there any crocodiles here?" said Mr Rogers, to the Zulu.

"No, boss; no crocodile. All in Limpopo river."

"I thought so. Here, Dinny."

"Yis, sor."

"Come across directly, man! There's nothing to be afraid of!"

"Sure, sor, I'm not afraid a bit!" yelled Dinny.

"Then come over."

"If I did, sor, the crockydiles would be aiting me, and thin what would you do?"

"Let me fetch him, father," cried Jack. "I'll wade over."

"No, let me," said Dick. "I'm not afraid."

"I don't think a second wetting will do either of you any good," replied their father. "Here, Dick, take the bay and go across, and make the stupid fellow hold on by your stirrup-leather. Take care to go straight."

"Help. What'll I do now? Are ye going to lave me?" cried Dinny, in piteous tones.

"He really deserves to be left," said Mr Rogers. "We shall have to cure him of this cowardice. Go on, Dick."

Dick leaped into the saddle, touched the willing bay's sides, and the horse began to ford the rapid stream, hesitating just a trifle as they reached the middle, where the current pressed most hardly against his flanks; but keeping steadily on till he was safe across.

"Ah, Masther Dick, dear!" whined Dinny. "An' it's you, thin?"

"Yes, it's me, my brave Irish boy!" said Dick.

"An' ye didn't bring another of the horses for me, sor?"

"No, Dinny, I didn't," replied Dick, smiling at the other's cowardice. "My father said you were to hold on by the stirrup-leather."

"What, and walk acrost?"

"To be sure."

"Saints alive! I daren't do it, Masther Dick, dear. Sure the bottom of the say--I mane the river--there's paved wid crockydiles; an' every step I took I could feel them heaving up under me."

"What, as you were going across, Dinny?"

"Yis, sor. Not as I minded as long as they kep' quiet; but whin one hungry baste laid howlt toight o' me trousers, and scratched me leg wid his ugly teeth, I felt that it was time to be off back, and I jist escaped."

"Hoi, there, Dick! Look sharp!"

"Coming!" roared Dick. "Now then, Dinny. There are no crocodivils here."

"Hark at him now!" cried Dinny. "Why the river swarms wid 'em. Did they ate the black boys?"

"No, of course not. What nonsense! Come, catch hold, and let's go."

"Masther Dick, dear, I've a mother at home in the owld country, and if anything was to happen to me, she'd never forgive the masther."

"Catch hold, Dinny. I tell you there's nothing to fear."

"Sure, Masther Dick, dear, an' I'm not afraid--not the laste bit in the worrld; but I couldn't go across there to-night. Wouldn't ye fetch one of the horses, Masther Dick?"

"No," cried Dick impatiently. "I couldn't do that. Here, I'll get down and wade, and you can ride."

"Thank ye, Masther Dick, dear. Sure, it's an honourable gintleman ye'll make, if ye don't let the crockydivils get ye before your time. That's betther," he said, mounting. "Howlt on very tight to the horse's mane, Masther Dick; and if ye feel one of the bastes feeling and poking ye about wid his nose before getting a good grip, jist you call out, and I'll put on the speed to drag ye away."

"I wouldn't let my feet dabble in the water, Dinny," said Dick, wickedly. "The crocodiles snap at hands or feet held over in their track."

"What'll I do, then?" cried Dinny, in alarm.

"I'd put my feet in my pockets, if I were you," said Dick.

"Sure, an' it's a boy ye are for a joke, Masther Dick," cried Dinny grimly. "I'll howlt me legs up very high. Ah! what are ye shouting about? We're coming."

"Make haste there, Dick. Is anything wrong?"

"No, father!" shouted back Dick. "There, get along with you. Give him his head, Dinny, and he'll go straight across."

"I'd better make him canter, hadn't I, Masther Dick, dear?"

"Canter? Nonsense! Why, the poor thing has enough to do to keep his feet walking."

"Then it isn't safe at all crossing the river, Masther Dick, dear. And ah, I daren't go like this, wid me riding the good honest baste and you walking. What'll the masther say?"

"That you are a terrible coward, Dinny," replied Dick.

"Be aisy, Masther Dick. It isn't being a coward, it's thinking av my poor mother, and taking care of meself for the poor owld sowl's sake. Whisht, Masther Dick, dear, jump up behind and hold on by me, and the baste'll carry us both over."

"It's rather hard on the horse, Dinny, but I don't want to get wet, so here goes. Hold tight."

Dick took a leap, "fly the garter" fashion, and came down astride the bay, but startling it so that it began to rear and plunge.

"Aisy, Masther Dick, dear, or I'll be off. Be quiet, ye baste. What's the matter wid ye? Quiet, now!"

"Is anything the matter there?" came from out of the darkness across the river.

"No-o-o-o!" roared Dick, drumming the bay's ribs with his heels. "Trek! go on, old fellow."

"Oh, take care, Masther Dick, dear, whatever ye do," whined Dinny.

"Oh, I'll take care," cried Dick, assuming the lead, and leaning forward so as to get the reins. "There, I'll guide; you hold him tightly with your knees. Go on, bay."

On went the bay steadily enough; and there was no disposition to waver now, even in the sharpest parts of the stream, for the extra weight upon his back made him firmer. But just as they reached the middle of the river a mischievous idea entered Dick's head, and suddenly with one foot he made a splash, while with the other he pressed Dinny's leg against the horse's side.

"Murther! Help!" yelled Dinny. "He's got me at last!" and throwing himself in the opposite direction, Dick only managed to save himself by nipping the horse. As for Dinny, he went head over heels into the running stream, being borne back, however, by the current against Dick's legs, when, grasping him by the collar, Dick urged the horse on, Dinny supplementing his young master's hold by a most tenacious grasp, till the horse's hoofs began to plash in the shallower water, and poor Dinny was dragged out on to dry land.

"Why, what have you been about, Dinny?" cried Mr Rogers angrily. "Why didn't you come over with us?"

"Sure, sor, I'm kilt entoirely," groaned Dinny, rubbing his leg. "Twice over the savage bastes have had hold of me, and if I hadn't thrown meself on the other side of the bay horse, it's this minute they'd be aiting of me up."

"Jump up and come along," cried Mr Rogers. "It's my belief, Dinny, that you are a great coward. Here, make haste, the waggon's nearly a mile ahead."

"Oh, masther, it was a narrow escape," groaned Dinny, who did not attempt to move.

"It will be a narrower one, Dinny, if you stay there, for the Zulu tells me that this is a favourite spot for lions to lie in wait for the bok and zebra that come down to drink."

"Oh, masther dear, why didn't ye say so before?" cried Dinny, jumping up with alacrity. "Sure I'd be the first to tell a man if he was in danger."

Mr Rogers did not reply, but went on with his son, Dinny keeping very close behind, till they overtook the waggon just as it reached the camping-place, where a fire was soon burning, and the oxen contentedly cropping the ample supply of excellent grass. _

Read next: Chapter 10. A Glorious Sight For A Hunter

Read previous: Chapter 8. How Nature Was Stronger Than Training

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