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Off to the Wilds, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 37. Dick Tries The Vegetable Fish-Hooks |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. DICK TRIES THE VEGETABLE FISH-HOOKS. Directly breakfast was over they started--this time without Dinny, who seemed to be very nervous for fear he should be asked to go--to get some of the honey, Coffee and Chicory each carrying a zinc pail, and the General a small tub. Long before they reached the patch of forest-trees the little bird came fluttering and twittering about them, having apparently forgiven their past neglect, and then went on, and flew from bush to bush, leading them straight to the big trees, perching as before upon one close by, and then silently watching the manoeuvres of the party. The General was about to take the lead, but Coffee and Chicory uttered such a strong protest in their native tongue, that he smilingly handed his hatchet to Coffee; while Chicory collected some tolerably dry peaty growth, struck a light and set it on fire, causing a dense cloud of smoke to rise up round the tree that contained the wild honey, and stupefying and suffocating the bees that flew to and fro. The boys grinned with delight at their task, and danced about, heaping up the smoke-producing leaves and stalks, till feeling satisfied that they might ascend, there was a bit of an altercation as to who should go, ending in Chicory giving way to his brother as he had been ill. Coffee then took the axe and stuck it in his loin-cloth, and a patch of burning turf in his hand. Then nimbly climbed up to the hole, where he held the smoking turf before him, to keep off the bees from his naked body, and clinging tightly with his legs, he proceeded to ply the axe so vigorously, and with such skill, that the rotten bark soon gave way, the tree being little more than a shell, and he laid bare range upon range of the beautiful comb. A little more tearing away of the bark was necessary, and then Coffee descended for a pail and a knife, dispensing now with his burning turf, and going up to return with the pail full of delicious comb. This was turned into the General's tub, and the boy ascended again, filled his pail and descended, and once more going up filled the other. The General then solemnly took a piece of the comb and placed it in the fork of a tree for the honey-guide, assuring those who looked on, that it was necessary to propitiate the bird and pay it for its services--a plan of which the little thing seemed highly to approve, for it flew to the comb at once, and began to feed. Enough having been procured to fill the pails and tub, Chicory, evidently approving of his brother's sticky state, went up the tree in turn, and cut out three combs for present use, offering some to each of his masters, and then dividing the remainder between his father, brother, and self. In fact, after removing to a little distance from the hive-tree, all sat down and had a good feast of the delicious honey, Coffee and Chicory grinning with delight as they munched up the wax and sweet together. "Well, of all the sticky objects I ever saw, they beat everything," said Dick, laughing. "Why, Coffee's all over honey." "Yes, tick all over," said the boy, rubbing his finger down his chest, and then sucking it, for he had got to be pretty thickly smeared in carrying the honey down. "Didn't the bees sting?" said Jack. "Only tiddlum's back;" said Coffee, giving himself a writhe. "Yes, tiddlum's back," said Chicory, applying honey to three or four places upon his arms. "Don't mind." "No, don't mind," assented Coffee; and they filled their mouths full of honey and wax and cried, "Good, good, good." They had spent so long over the journey for the honey that evening was coming on fast as they began to ride slowly back, Dick and Jack making excursions here and there in search of something fresh as they crossed a bushy plain strewn with great masses of stone, which rendered their progress very slow, any attempt at a trot or canter being absolutely madness, unless they wished to lame their steeds. "I wish we had got father's glasses," said Jack, "we might have seen something from this high ground." "I have got them," said Dick, gazing through the binocular at the prospect of undulating plain, across which his father and the Zulu were making their way now, quite a mile in advance. "I've got them, but I can only see some quagga right over yonder." "I can see something close by," cried Jack, pointing at a tall, dimly seen object that slowly passed out of a clump of bushes, and then went slowly forward into another. "What can you see?" said Dick. "Giraffe!" cried Jack. "Nonsense! Where?" "It just went into that clump of bushes there. Come on." "No," said Dick, "father's making signals for us to go to him." "But it's such a pity to miss a chance," cried Jack, unslinging his rifle. "Yes," said Dick, "so it is, but I shouldn't like father to think we did not attend to his signals. Mark the clump. There, we shall know it by these stones on this high ground; and--yes, Jack, you're right. That must be a giraffe." They stood watching the tall neck passing amongst the bushes, but it was getting very dark now, and they hurried on, so as to overtake the honey-bearers, reaching camp afterwards quite safely, where, over their late dinner, the coming of the giraffes was discussed. "I'd have breakfast at daybreak, boys, if I were you," said Mr Rogers, "and be off directly after." "But you'll come too, father?" said Jack. "No, my boys, I thought you would like to have a hunt by yourselves," said Mr Rogers; when, seeing how disappointed the lads looked, he consented to come. The General stopped to keep the camp, and Coffee and Chicory seemed terribly disappointed at not being of the party; but upon receiving permission to take the dogs for a run, and a hunt all to themselves, they brightened up, and saw their masters go off without a murmur. It was a ride of some hours' duration to get to the high ground where the giraffe had been seen, the fact of there being one, Mr Rogers said, showing that there was a little herd somewhere close by, and so it proved, for after cautiously approaching the place, riding with the greatest care, so as to avoid the great masses of stone hidden amongst the grass, three tall heads were seen peering about in a patch of trees quite half a mile away. A quiet approach was contrived, the hunters making, their way round to the far side of the clump of bushes, where some higher trees sheltered their approach--very barely though, for the giraffe's long necks enabled them to peer over bushes and saplings of no mean height. But for this shelter the little herd would have been off at once, and they could have followed them at little better than a walk, on account of the rough stones and masses of rock. Practice had made them skilful at stalking, and keeping pretty close together, they gradually approached the patch of tall growth, when, in obedience to a signal from Mr Rogers, they separated, Dick and Jack going in opposite directions, and Mr Rogers waiting for a few moments to let the boys get a start, and then entering the bush himself. So well had the arrangement been timed, that father and sons met together just upon the other side, staring the one at the other. "Why, where are the giraffes?" cried Jack. "Yes, where are they?" said Dick, looking at his father, as if he thought he had taken them away. "Haven't you seen them?" "Not I," said Mr Rogers, laughing. "Why, boys, we must be sharper than this another time." "But when did they go?" cried Dick. "I cannot tell," replied his father, "unless it was when we were out of sight. They must have suspected danger, and gone off at full speed." "What's to be done now then?" said Jack. "Get up to the top of the nearest hill, and look round with the glass," suggested Dick; and this was so evidently the best plan, that they started for an eminence about a mile away. Here they had not been a moment, and Mr Rogers had not had time to get out the glass, before Jack cried,-- "There they go: I see them: scudding along through those bushes in the hollow there." Stalking having proved unsuccessful the last time, they almost gave it up on this occasion, save that they trotted down the side of the hill away from the giraffes, and then cantered on so as to reach the same point as that for which the giraffes seemed to be making a long sweep of open plain, where they could put their horses to full speed. This time the giraffes were in sight as they rounded the corner of the hill, and shouting to the boys to each pick out one, Mr Rogers pushed his horse forward, and selecting the tallest of the herd, galloped on to cut it off from the rest of the herd. This needed little care, for the tall ungainly beast realised directly that it was being pursued, and separating from the herd, went off at a clumsy gallop, its neck outstretched, and its tail whisking about as it kept looking back at its pursuer. Jack picked out another, which made for the denser part, where the trees were thick, and in his excitement he gave his cob the rein, and away they went at racing pace. But Jack did not gain much upon the giraffe he had chosen, for almost before he had seen the colour of its spots at all closely, his horse, participating in its master's eagerness, went at full speed under a long, low branch, and came out on the other side of the wood, but without Jack, who was swept violently out of his saddle by the low bough, which swung violently to and fro for a few moments, and then deposited Jack softly in a sitting posture upon the ground. The boy rose to rub his chest very softly, and then feeling to see whether he was all right, he went on in chase of his horse, which he overtook standing very patiently just outside the patch of forest, looking wonderingly at him, as if asking why he had left its back. "What a nuisance!" grumbled Jack; "and I daresay they've both shot giraffes by this time. How unlucky, to be sure!" He lifted the reins from his horse's feet, and thrusting them over its head, mounted again, but not comfortably, for Jack felt very sore across the chest where the bough had struck him. From this post of vantage he could see his father in the distance still in chase of the giraffe; but though he looked in various directions, there was no Dick. "Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoop!" Jack started to look in the direction from whence the sound had come, but he could see nothing. He, however, responded to the call, and it was repeated, evidently from a patch of wood half a mile distant. As he cantered towards it, the signal rang out again. "Dick's brought down his giraffe very quickly," said Jack. "Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoop!" "Here! Hoi! Jack!" came now from pretty close to him--but in a dense part of the patch of trees; and riding up, there was Dick, with his horse standing perfectly still and looking at him. "Come along," cried Jack. "Where's your giraffe?" "I don't know. Where's yours?" "Miles away. I galloped under a tree, and was pulled off my horse, such a bang." "We came right into these thorns," said Dick, "and have been here ever since." "What! can't you get out?" "Get out? No. It's horrible. I'm caught all over, and poor old Shoes just the same. Directly I try to make him stir, he begins to kick, and when he kicks it's awful. They're like fish-hooks, and I'm torn to pieces." Jack began to laugh. "Ah, yes, you may laugh," said his brother; "but you wouldn't like it." "No," laughed Jack, "but you do look such a jolly old guy stuck up there, I can't help laughing." "But do try and help me out." "How?" said Jack. "Oh, I don't know. Stand still, Shoes, do! Oh, I say, don't kick again, pray don't! Good old horse then." Shoes whinnied as his master patted and talked to him, but the thorns pricked him so at even this light movement, that the poor animal stamped angrily, and snorted as he pawed the ground. In spite of his intense desire to laugh, Jack saw that matters were really serious for his brother; and leaping off, he threw down his reins at his horse's feet, whipped out his great hunting-knife, and proceeded to cut and hack away the thorns by which his brother and his horse were surrounded. They were indeed like fish-hooks, and so sharp and strong, that once in amongst them no one could have escaped without having clothes and skin ploughed and torn in a terrible way. Shoes stood perfectly still now. He snorted at times and twitched the skin of his withers, turning his great eyes appealingly to Jack, who plied his heavy sheath-knife so effectively that at last the mass of thorns was sufficiently hacked away to allow horse and rider to move. Fortunately for Dick, he was a clever horseman. Had he ridden like some people, who hang a leg on each side of a horse and call that riding, he must have been thrown. For at the first touch to start him, Shoes was so eager to get out of the thorny torture to which he had been subjected, that he made a tremendous bound, and alighted clear, trembling and sweating profusely. "Oh, I say, Jack, I am scratched," grumbled Dick, giving himself soft rubs all over. "Don't laugh. It does hurt so." "But I feel as if I can't help it," cried Jack, who burst into a fresh roar. "I don't think I should have laughed at poor old Dinny, if I had known how it hurts. Those thorns are nearly as sharp as needles." "Well, there, I won't laugh any more; but you weren't tossed up on the thorns by a rhinoceros. Come along. Let's go after father;" and they set off, but very gently, for Dick's face was screwed into a fresh grimace at every motion of the horse, while the poor beast itself was marked with little tiny beads of blood all over its satin skin. _ |
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