Home
Fictions/Novels
Short Stories
Poems
Essays
Plays
Nonfictions
 
Authors
All Titles
 






In Association with Amazon.com

Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Off to the Wilds > This page

Off to the Wilds, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 16. How The Little Gintlemen Interfered Wid Dinny

< Previous
Table of content
Next >
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER SIXTEEN. HOW THE LITTLE GINTLEMEN INTERFERED WID DINNY

A few days were very pleasantly spent here collecting, for Mr Rogers was an enthusiastic naturalist. Birds of brilliant feathering were shot, skinned, preserved with arsenical paste, filled with cotton wool, and laid to dry with their heads and shoulders thrust into paper cones, after which they were transferred to a box which had to be zealously watched to keep out the ants. Certainly scores of these were killed through eating the poison smeared upon the skins, but that was little satisfaction if they had first destroyed some delicate bird.

Butterflies, too, and beetles were obtained in great numbers, being carefully killed, and pinned out in boxes lined with camphored cork. These insects the two Zulu boys soon learned to capture with the greatest ease, and after a little teaching they would bring in a handsome butterfly or moth, without crushing and disfiguring it first so that it was useless for preservation.

Bok or antelope of various kinds were plentiful enough to make the party sure of plenty of food; and both Dick and Jack were getting so skilful with the rifle that they could be depended upon to bring down a koodoo or springbok at four or five hundred paces.

The kraal had been strengthened, so that they felt no fear of a lion getting through; but fires were kept up every night, wood being plentiful, and the bright glow seemed to give confidence to the occupants of the camp, as well as to the horses and oxen. Watch was kept too, but though lions were sometimes heard at a distance they did not molest the travellers, and but for the stern suggestions of the General they would have grown careless in the extreme.

For experience and skill in the use of fire-arms made Dick and Jack more confident. They had looked upon a lion as a monster of such prowess, and of so dangerous a character, that they were quite surprised at the ease with which a good shot with a rifle could hold the king of beasts at his mercy.

As for Coffee and Chicory, the General several times punished them for being so daring and running such risks, especially as they were in a part of the country where lions really were plentiful, although, so far, little molestation of the travellers had taken place.

It had been decided that upon the next day they would trek onward for some distance, and perhaps on and on for days, according to the attractiveness of the country they were passing through, and the plentifulness of the game.

The General heard Mr Rogers' decision with a smile of satisfaction.

"I want to take you where the great tusker elephants are," he said, "and let you shoot the giraffe and rhinoceros. We have hardly begun yet."

He made the boys' eyes glow with excitement as he told them of the size of the hippopotami and elephants they would encounter, the height of the giraffes, and the furious nature of the rhinoceros, which beast seemed to be always mad if it saw a human being.

As they were going to start next day it was decided to let the horses graze in peace with the oxen, which, after a fortnight's rest, looked sleek-coated and in far better condition; but Peter, Dirk, and Dinny were bidden to keep a strict watch over the cattle, for just before starting the General announced that he had seen a lion-spoor, apparently two days old.

The day was passed very pleasantly, collecting, by Mr Rogers and his sons, several very beautiful birds falling to their guns, and their boxes being filled with splendidly burnished beetles; and at last tired out, they turned to get back to the little camp by midday, hoping to find a satisfactory meal ready, for the General had gone out with a rifle in search of a bok; and his two boys had taken their kiris and assegais, to see if they could not knock down a few of the large partridge or quail-like birds.

What was their disappointment then to find that neither the General nor his sons had returned, while Dinny was in great distress.

"Sure," he said, "I thought I'd take a fishing-line and a shtick, and go to the big pool by the little river over yonder, and catch a few of the fish things; bad cess to 'em, they're no more like the fine salmon and throut of my own country than this baste of a place is its aiqual."

"Well, Dinny, and you went and didn't catch anything," said Dick.

"Sure, Masther Dick, an' you weren't there," said Dinny; "but ye're right there; I didn't catch a single fish, for the little gintlemen wouldn't let me."

"Little gentlemen, Dinny?" said Mr Rogers eagerly. "Did you see any natives?"

"An' is it natives ye'd call the dirthy undersized little craytures?" cried Dinny indignantly. "Sure I'd take a couple of 'em up under my arms and run away wid 'em."

"But you say they interfered with you, and wouldn't let you fish," said Mr Rogers.

"Faix, sor, an' that's what they did. Ye know the big pool."

"To be sure," said Mr Rogers. "There are silurus in it."

"Are there though, sor?" said Dinny. "And there's the big rocks up behind it, where the prickly trees wid red flowers and no leaves at all grow."

"Yes, I know the place," said Mr Rogers impatiently; "go on."

"Well, sor, I sits meself down comfortable, baits my hook wid a nice bit of fresh mate as any dacent fish would like to have, and then I says to meself, 'Dinny,' I says, 'while ye're waiting to hook a nice fish for the masther's dinner, I'd have jist a whiff o' tibakky if I were you.' 'Ye're right and I will,' I says; and I outs wid my pipe, fills it, and was just going to light up, when _splash_! There was a great big stone thrown in the wather.

"'Ah, be aisy, Masther Jack,' I says, for I knew it was you."

"Why, I was away with my father," cried Jack.

"To be sure ye were, Masther Jack, dear; but don't ye see I thought it was your thrick; and bang comes another big stone down be me side.

"'I'll tell the masther if ye don't lave off,' I says. 'That's you, Masther Dick, as throwed that.'

"Splash comes another, and then I recklected as ye'd both be far away, and that it must be one of them dirthy little varmints, Coffee or Chicory. So I lays down me rod and line, as nice and sthrait a rod as ye'd cut out of the woods anywhere, ye know, sor, and I picked up my bit of stick ready for them.

"'I'll wait till ye throw again, me beauties,' I says; and just as I says it to meself, a big stone hits me on the back, and another goes in just by me line.

"'Now ye shall have it, ye wicked little villains,' I says; and jumping up I was going to run at 'em, when, murther! there was about a dozen of the craytures coming down from the rocks, shouting and chattering, and throwing stones.

"'Will ye be off?' says one, 'ye've no business fishing there widout lave.'"

"How do you know he said that?" said Dick dryly.

"Sure an' what else would he say, Masther Dick, dear? An' ah, ye never saw such ugly little divils, widout a bit of nose to their dirty faces, and a grin as if they were all teeth.

"'Sure I was only catching a fish for the masther's dinner, gintlemen,' I says, when, murther! if they didn't run at me like mad, and if I hadn't walked away I belave they'd have killed me. As it was one cowardly villain instead of hitting me dacently on the head wid his stick like a Christian, comes at me and bites me in the leg."

"Let's look, Dinny," said Dick, for Mr Rogers listened but did not speak.

"Oh ye can look, Masther Dick. He tuk a pace out of me throusis, and he'd have tuk a pace out of me leg as well, if I hadn't expostulated wid him on the head wid me shtick. Sure I was obliged to run then or they'd have torn me to pieces; and it's my belafe they've been using the fishing-line ever since."

"And so you've had an interview with the natives, have you, Dinny?" said Mr Rogers dryly.

"Ah, I wouldn't call them natives, sor," said Dinny.

"What then, baboons?" said Mr Rogers.

"Sure, sur, I don't know the name of the thribe, but they're a dirthy-looking little lot, and as hairy as if they never shaved themselves a bit."

"Why he's been pelted by monkeys," cried Dick, indignantly; and Jack burst out laughing.

"Faix, Masther Dick, dear, they behaved like monkeys more than men, and they're an ugly little thribe of natives; and if I'd had a gun I'd have given some of them the headache, that I would."

"Ah, here's the General," cried Mr Rogers, as the great Zulu came striding up with a bok over his shoulder.

As he entered the little camp he threw down the bok, and began to skin it, looking about for Coffee and Chicory.

"Where are the boys?" he said at last.

"Sure they haven't come back," said Dinny; "and I hope they never will," he added, taking the bok to cut up and cook a portion, for Dinny's leg was very sore and bleeding from a severe bite, and his temper was also a little more sore from the doubt with which his story had been received.

The Zulu darted a fierce glance at him, but he did not speak. He only walked to the waggon, where Mr Rogers was examining some of the specimens he had killed, and said simply,--

"May I take the rifle, boss, and go and find my boys?"

"Yes, of course," exclaimed Mr Rogers.

"I'll go with you, General," cried Jack eagerly.

"But you are too tired," said his father.

"Oh, no," cried Jack. "I don't mind. I'll go with the General."

The Zulu darted a grateful look at Jack, and the latter took his rifle and bullet cartridges, starting off directly after in the way that the boys had been seen to go.

Jack began chatting to the Zulu as they went along, but after a few remarks he noticed that the General was very quiet and reserved, while when he glanced at his countenance it looked so strange that Jack felt startled, and began to think of how awkward his position would be if the Zulu were to prove unfaithful, and turn upon him.

But the next minute he was reassured, and found that it was anxiety upon the General's part about his boys.

"I am afraid, Boss Jack," he said hoarsely. "It frightens me to think. They may be killed."

"Oh, no," cried Jack hopefully. "They have only gone farther away, and have not had time to return."

The Zulu shook his head, but he glanced eagerly at the speaker as if to silently ask him if he really felt like that.

"No," he said softly; "one of them would be back by now, I am afraid."

Jack tried again, but it was of no avail; and the Zulu having struck the boys' trail, he had to be left to follow it without interruption, and this he did, all through the heat of that glowing afternoon.

Several times poor Jack felt as if he would faint, but his spirit kept him up, and at last they came upon Chicory, sitting down by a little pool of water with his assegai beside him, bathing his bleeding feet.

The Zulu uttered a low sigh of satisfaction as he saw one of his boys, and Chicory jumped up, and seizing his assegai, ran to meet them.

"My brother; has he got back?" he asked in his own tongue.

"No; I came to find you both. Where is he?" said the General sternly.

"Lost," said Chicory disconsolately. "We got no birds and would not go back without, and we went on and parted. He is lost."

"Lost!" said the Zulu scornfully; "my boy lost! Go find him. Watch the spoor. He must be found."

Poor Chicory turned without a word, and in obedience to his father's order he went off in the direction where he and his brother had accidentally parted, and at last led them to a beautiful park-like tract of land. Forest-trees sprang up in every direction, for the most part draped with creepers; clumps of bushy growth, and clusters of prickly succulent plants, grew on every side. It was in fact a very nature's garden, but though they searched in all directions through the lovely glades, golden with the rays of the scorching sun, there was no trace of poor Coffee; and after separating, when they met again from time to time poor worn out Chicory looked his despair.

Again they separated, Jack following, however, pretty closely upon poor Chicory's steps, till the excitement that had kept him up so long began to fail, and he sat down pretty well exhausted, with his rifle across his knees and his back against a tree. _

Read next: Chapter 17. Jack Rogers Goes To Sleep

Read previous: Chapter 15. Good Practice For Gunners

Table of content of Off to the Wilds


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book