Chapter Thirty Two.
The “Red” Kaffirs!
I found Abe Pike one afternoon poring over a newspaper, tracing each word with a horny finger, and laboriously spelling out the long words.
“Getting hints about pumpkin-growing, Abe?”
“No, sonny; jes’ studying how to give spoon-food to infants, and you’ve come in time.”
The old man looked vexed. He suddenly rolled the paper into a ball, and threw it at a lizard.
“It’s mean!” he said; “danged mean!”
“What?”
He held out his hand, and I mechanically gave him my tobacco pouch.
“Ever been to England?” he said.
“Yes; you know I have.”
“Soh! Is the people there white?”
“Of course!”
“Same as you and me?”
“A little whiter, I should say, Abe. What are you driving at?”
“Look here, sonny! I’ve been in this country, man an’ boy, ever since I were born; and, you b’lieve me, I never get hole of a paper from the Ole Land but there’s some abuse of us colonists. That’s why I ask you is they white.”
“What have they been saying now?”
“Saying; why the same old story—that we’re a hard lot, always driving the Kaffirs, an’ killing ’em, an’ stealing their lands, an’ ’busin’ their women-folk, and grindin’ ’em down.”
“Well; what does it matter!”
“It matters the hull sackful. Look at me—I’ve never been to England, but all the same it’s my home. I love the ole flag, and cry ‘Hurrah’ for the Queen; an’, ole as I am, I’d boost anybody over the head as ’ud up an’ say England was not the best and the biggest and the grandest country in the world. Yessir!”
“She’s not very big, Abe.”
“Soh! Well, she’s big enough to spread her arms all round the yearth, and fetch anybody on the other side ‘ker-blum’ with a man-o’-war’s big gun. We give her all—it ain’t much, maybe—an’ we get back a crop of suspicions. That’s why I ask, is the people in the Ole Land white?”
“We are all of one family, Abe, and relations don’t compliment each other.”
“Who’s crying out for compliments? I leave ’em to the chaps over in England, who praise each other to their face in the halls, and tell each other what fine fellows they are to save the Kaffirs from them cruel, savageous colonists. May the Lord look up and down ’em for the mischief they’ve done.”
“You seem very bitter, Abe.”
“Well, the reading in that paper has lef a bitter taste. You see, sonny, I recomember the wars of the ‘thirties’ and the ‘forties,’ when your father were a boy—and his uncles and brothers, and sisters and wives—the whole lot of us—were raw to the land—when the country all round were wild—and the Kaffirs hangin’ on the frontier like a great dark wave way out on the sea—ready to rush in and sweep us offern the land. Three times they rushed in—three times we had to leave our homes, our flocks, our crops, and make for the posts. Then we had to fight ’em back, and those people away over in England each time ’ud fetch a howl that reached across the sea about the cruelty of the colonists—with never a word about the burnt houses, and the cattle swept off, and the women and children.
“Look here, sonny,” said Abe, his face growing dark; “I’ll tell you somethin’ I seed when I was a grown boy—somethin’ about one of these very wars the people at home have blamed us for making for our own gain.
“The Kaffirs were over yonder; about twenty miles away across the Chumie, and the farmers were scattered all about, thinkin’ of nothin’ at all but the mealie crop, and the wheat nearly ripe, and the pumpkin patches—for they had been through hard times, and the season were good. Jes’ away back of this place, where the three springs of the Kleinemonde rise out of the flats, there were a little valley no bigger’n ten acres, set around with small hills, and the water runnin’ through and round it under big yellerwood and Kaffir plum trees; while in the water stood clumps of palmeit and tree ferns, yeller and green, and rustlin’ to the wind. Beyond the hills the grass veld rolled away to the Fish River bush, over here towards the Kaffirs, and the Kowie bush ’way back. On the grass veld were a many herd of bucks—springbok and blesbok—while in the thick bush were koodoo and buffel—ay, an’ elephant!
“It is a mooi place now, that little valley; but I tell you then it were a spot to make a man look and long. But it were risky. The Fish River bush were a leetle too close, in case the Kaffirs raided.
“Howsomdever, there were one man who took the risk. He were ole Mr Tolver—a farmer from Devonshire, and with him were seven sons—two on ’em born here, the rest away in the ole country. My gum! you should a seed ’em. The ole man hisself were not so big, though he were broad an’ deep; but four of his boys were over six feet, and the other three were growing fast. Ole Mr Tolver druv his stake into the little valley. ‘This is my settlement,’ he sez to the Government officer who came riding round, and tried to persuade him to give it up, because of its aloneness. ‘Here I am,’ he sez, ‘and here I stays, and durn the Kaffirs!’
“‘You’re a stubborn man, Tolver,’ sez the officer, ‘but I have warned you. If the Kaffirs come they would cut you off before you could reach Grahamstown.’
“‘Jes’ cast your eyes over my boys,’ sez Tolver; and the boys laughed, and stood in a row.
“There was Jake at the top, six-foot-four, with a yeller beard, and eyes blue as a bit of sky. Slow he were and heavy in his tread, with a hand like a leg o’ mutton and a heart soft as a woman. He were courtin’ a girl over at Clumber. I seed him offen there, but all the time you’d a thought he were there to play with the little girl, and not her big sister. Nex’ to him were Oll, with a smooth face and a bull neck, and brown eyes that were always laughing. He took arter his mother. Arter him come Seth—long and thin and solum, with a habit of croonin’ to hisself. And nex’ him were Harry—the devil of the family; straight as a ramrod, handsome, and hot-tempered. He were a fine young chap, and the girls ran when he came in sight to put their hair straight. Then come one below six foot—young Willie, who took after his brother Jake, and jes’ follered Harry like a shadder. Nex’ him were barefooted Jimmy—a boy that was a born hunter, and knew more about animiles and how to cotch ’em than any man; an’ last of all were the baby Tom. Tho’ they called him ‘baby,’ he were as big a’most as you, with the hair sticking through a hole in his felt hat, and bare brown legs.
“There they stood in a row—the seven sons; and the officer threw his eye along ’em.
“‘By God!’ he sed, ‘they’re fine chips from the ole country. Well, you’ll do as you like, Tolver; but take my advice—build a house with stone walls out in the clearing, and don’t have a thatch-roof.’
“Well; he rode off, and Tolver squatted in that little valley, clearing out the bush from the centre, and growing a’most anything. Many a time I went over there to climb the trees for plums with Tom, or go off bee huntin’ with Jimmie, and in the quiet of the evenin’ I’ve sot outside with the others, while Seth he played on his concertina bellers, making the saddest music, fit to make you roll over an’ cry.
“One night I went over, so to be ready to go on a long hunt nex’ day with Jimmie, and down the hill there came a Kaffir, with his kerrie across his shoulder, and his arms resting on the stick by the wrists, after their way of walking.
“‘Gumela!’ he sed, and stood near by, waiting, drawin’ his red blanket round him, and his face set like a block o’ wood.
“Ole baas Tolver he jes’ grunted, and the Kaffir he stood there lookin’.
“Arter a time the ole baas up and sed—‘Jake, fetch him a stick o’ tobacco!’
“Jake riz up, and there seemed no end to him, and he reached out a long arm with a yank of black tobak.
“‘Yoh!’ sed the Kaffir.
“‘Oll,’ said the ole baas; ‘step inside for a strip of meat. Seth, put another stick on the fire. You, Harry, draw a bucket o’ water from the spring.’
“As, one arter the other, these big chaps riz up from the ground, and went striding off about their jobs which the ole man had set them a-purpose, the Kaffir looked more an’ more s’prised.
“‘Sit and eat,’ sed the ole baas.
“‘Inkosi,’ sed the Kaffir; and he squatted down to the fire, with his hands out to the blaze, and his black eyes half-closed; while the meat spluttered on the coals, giving off a fine smell.
“‘Willie,’ sed the ole man; ‘fetch out the guns and give ’em a clean up.’
“Willie sprang up—nearly six foot of him—and the Kaffir looked roun’ the fire at the other two boys.
“‘Yoh,’ he said, ‘these men are like trees;’ and his eyes shone in the light, and on his breast there gleamed white a string of tiger claws.
“So he sot and eat, and then he said he were going on to the Kasouga to see his brother, who was herding cattle for a white man.
“When he went the ole man laughed in his beard. ‘I guess,’ he sed, ‘he’ll see we’re too much of a mouthful in case they mean trouble.’
“‘I hope we haven’t frightened him,’ sed Harry; ‘things are gettin’ too quiet.’
“‘The quieter the better,’ sed Jake; ‘we don’t wan’t any Kaffirs swooping down here. I didn’t like the look of that fellow; he said too little.’
“‘Phooh!’ said Harry, ‘I’d take him with one hand.’
“‘I’ll jes’ walk over to Clumber,’ sed Jake, stretching hisself, ‘and fetch the sweet pertaters for sowing to-morrow.’
“Harry laughed.
“‘You’re getting nervous, Jake,’ he sed, ‘now you’re in love. There’s somethin’ sweeter’n pertaters over yonder.’
“Jake laid Harry on his back—not so’s to hurt him, and swung off inter the dark, while me and Jimmie and Tom reckoned that Harry was the chap if there was any trouble.
“Early next morn, me and Jim stretched away across the veld, towards the Fish River, carrying a tin for the honey and a hunk of black bread.
“We’d gone about six miles when Jimmie stubbed his toe, and sit down, with a holler, to nurse it.
“‘My gum!’ he sed, ‘it’s bad; I guess we’ll go back and leave this trip for nex’ week. There’s a honey-tree near home, and we’ll go there.’
“I were ’leven and he were sixteen, and what he sed I’d got to do, so we turned back, and he limpin’.
“All o’ a sudden, when we got in a dip, he give over limpin’. ‘Abe,’ he says, breathin’ hard, ‘there were a Kaffir watching us. Now you go along home—quick! Don’t say nothin’ to father. Maybe the chap’s up to no mischief, but if he is, I’ll find out.’
“‘Come back with me,’ I sed, skeered.
“‘Do what I tell you,’ he sez; and when I started to go, he slipped away to the left, up the hill. Well, I went on, gettin’ more and more skeered, till I saw the house, then I jes’ hid away and waited for Jim. Bymby, in the afternoon, here he came running, and I run to meet him when he slowed down.
“‘Whatjer see?’ I asked him.
“‘Nothin’,’ he sez.
“‘Whatjer run for, then?’
“‘To keep warm,’ he sez, though the sweat were running off him.
“Well, when we got to the clearin’ we met Jake hauling on a big stump.
“‘Well, youngsters,’ he says; wiping his forehead with the back of his hand; ‘had a good time?’
“‘Jake,’ said Jimmie, ‘there’s Kaffirs over yonder.’
“‘What’s that! Are you joking?’
“‘There’s Kaffirs over yonder,’ sed Jimmie, staring at his brother; ‘and the chap as was here last night is with ’em. I heard them call him. His name’s Tyali.’
“‘My God!’ said Jake, going white. ‘Tell father,’ he sed, and then he ran.
“I laughed, sneering at Jake, and Jimmie hit me in the side, though his mouth were twitching.
“‘What the row?’ sed Harry, coming up.
“‘Kaffirs!’ sed Jimmie, scowling after Jake.
“‘Hurrah!’ sed Harry, and threw up his hat.
“‘What’s all this I yere from Jake?’ said ole man Tolver, striding up. ‘So,’ he sed, when Jimmie tole him, putting the ends of his beard into his mouth, which were a trick he had when thinking. ‘So; they’re coming. Well, let ’em come! I tole that Guv’ment chap I’d stay here, and here I’ll stay. If any of you boys would like to go, you’d better clear now.’
“They were all of them together—all but Jake, and he had gone running into the house.
“‘It’s too much trouble to run,’ said Oll, biting on a piece of grass. ‘’Sides, I ain’t finished “scoffling” the mealies. I’ll stay.’
“The ole baas he jes’ grunted.
“‘So’ll I,’ said Seth.
“‘Ef you all went,’ said Harry, with his eyes shining, ‘I’d stop.’
“The ole baas he jes’ grunted ag’in.
“‘An’ me,’ said Willie; ‘and me too’—‘and me,’ said Jim and baby Tom.
“‘Thank you, my sons,’ sed Tolver, softly, and jes’ then Jake came outer the house—Jake the biggest and the oldest, and the kindest of the brothers. In his hand he carried a big chopping axe, which were like a little stick in his grasp. He looked at his brothers, and his father looked at him.
“‘I’m going over to Clumber,’ he sed.
“‘So,’ sed his father; and they all stood silent.
“‘Yes,’ sed Jake after a time, ‘I give ’em warning.’
“‘And take yourself out of danger,’ sed the ole baas quietly.
“Jake looked at his father rather sad-like, and then he said: ‘Shall I take Jim and Tom with me?’
“‘I won’t go,’ sed Tom, turning red.
“Jimmie sed nothin’, but his lip trembled. He thought a heap of Jake, and here he seed him turnin’ tail.
“‘Abe,’ said Jake, speaking quietly; ‘you’ve got no part in this—come with me.’
“‘I’m not running away,’ I sed. ‘I’ll stay with Harry.’
“Jake opened his mouth as if he’d speak, then he turned on his heel and strode away with his axe over his shoulder.
“His brothers turned to look after him, and ole Tolver, he called out in a hard voice, ‘Don’t you come back here again. You’re no son of mine.’ Jake he gave no sign, and I seed Jimmie’s face working.
“‘Yah! you’re afraid like him,’ I sed.
“‘You lie,’ he sed, and hit me ’longside the jaw.
“‘Be quiet, boys,’ said Oll Tolver, ketching Jim by the arm.
“‘Seth,’ said the ole baas, speaking short and firm. ‘Get ter the top of that hill, and keep a sharp look-out. Willie and Jim, bring the cows into the kraal. Oll and Harry, fill the water barrel, and put it inside the house. Tom and you, Abe, move all the things outer the big room, and get the guns ready.’
“Seth sot off up the hill at a lope, and the other boys all went about their work, and got things to rights in no time. Then we hung about fidgettin’—picking things up and putting them down, and looking up to Seth all the time.
“Arter a long time Seth lifted up his hand, and we all stood in a bunch watching him till our eyes ached—then here he come down the hill like a cart wheel, while the big chaps grabbed their guns, and I bolted inter the house.
“‘Are they coming?’ shouted Harry.
“Seth nodded as he ran.
“‘How many?’
“‘One,’ said Seth, with a gasp.
“‘Good lord!’ said Harry, throwing his rifle down.
“‘I say,’ sed Seth, drawlin’ out his words—his neck was that long; ‘you fellows jes’ slouch around ’s if you were at work. I’m goin’ to meet this chap. Maybe he’s a spy.’
“‘Seth’s right,’ said the ole baas; and the boys put the guns away, and scattered about as if they were restin’.
“Seth slipped a naked hunting-knife inside the band of his trousers, and lounged away up the path; and bymby, when he nearly got to the top, a Kaffir came over the ridge, stood a moment looking, then come down. He carried his blanket over his right shoulder.
“When they met, the Kaffir he took snuff, and Seth he gave him a bit of tobacco. Then they talked and talked, and the Kaffir, he kep’ his eye on the house, and arter a time he kep’ movin’ around—’s if he’d like to get behind Seth—and Seth all the time he kep’ his face to the t’other. Then the Kaffir went away back, and Seth went up to the ridge again, and there was another spell of waiting.
“Then Harry sed he weren’t going to fool about any more, and he made tracks for the little wood above the clearing, and Willie follered. No sooner’d they got clear than here comes Seth again, like a streak.
“‘It’s all right,’ he sed; ‘they’re comin’ thick. The veld’s red with ’em.’
“They gave a hail for Harry and went inside, and each one looked to see the shiny, brass caps were hard down on the nipple—while Tom, he laid out the round bullets, and the greased rags for wroppin’ ’em in, and the slugs handy. Seth were tellin’ how the Kaffir ast him questions, and how he seed the assegai under his blanket—then there came a deep sound rolling along the ground, which made me hide away in the barrel churn, and made the brothers all go silent. It were the war song of the red Kaffirs, deep from their chests, slow and boomin’, and solum, and in between there were the shrill crying of the women, follering behind the fightin’ men with the mats and the pots.
“Ole baas Tolver stood at the door looking for Harry, and he give a shout for him to hurry; and the Kaffirs came over the crest of the hill. Jimmie pushed his rifle through a hole in the wall, with a gasp in his throat.
“‘Don’t shoot!’ sed his father; and he looked away to the woods for his two sons. And so they stood, waiting and watching.
“I crept out of the barrel to see what they were looking at so set, and there I seed the Kaffirs slipping down the hill, from rock to rock, edging all the time towards the wood, and others coming up over the ridge, their bodies stripped and oiled for war, and their faces smeared with red clay.
“‘My God!’ sed the ole man under his breath; then he bellered out ‘Run!’
“I looked between his legs, and seed Harry and Willie comin’ up from the wood, and walkin’ jes’ ’s if they were comin’ in to dinner.
“The Kaffirs yelled when they seed them, and started running. Harry threw up his gun, and they dropped down, hiding away behind nothing. I yeard Harry laugh. Well, they came on at that fool pace, and all on a sudden the Kaffirs came leaping and dodging down. The two brothers they stood still, with their rifles up and fired; then they come on loading, and fired again.
“‘Run, Willie,’ sed Harry; ‘let’s see who can get in first,’ and with that he made to run, and Willie let out full speed, with the Kaffirs yelling like mad. When he got near the door he looked round and seed Harry walking backwards with his rifle ready, and the Kaffirs hanging away back and whizzing their assegais. He made ’s if to start back, but the ole man caught him by the arm and yanked him in.
“‘Fire!’ sed the ole baas, and he and the three boys blazed away, Jimmy letting rip a handful of slugs.
“Well, the Kaffirs they dropped, crawling for shelter, and Harry came in as cool as you please, with an assegai in his hand that he picked up. Then he seed me crouching down, and laugh’d a’most till he cried, for I were covered with the leavings of the churn.
“They took their places inside the room, each one at a hole, and began firing by fits and starts, Tom standin’ ready with a charge of powder from the horn each time.
“‘They’re going to rush the cattle,’ sed Oll; ‘and we can’t prevent ’em from here. Some of us had better get into the shed.’
“Well, three of them boys went out—Oll, and Harry, and Willie—and there were a terrible how-de-do out there, shoutin’ an’ whistlin’, and bangin’; the dogs barking fit to bust themselves, the ole red bull bellering, and the fowls that had flew to the roof cackling all together. My! I were skeered, and Tom, he looked if he’d bolt inter the tub along with me, but he jes’ kep on pouring out the powder.
“Then I yeard ‘Hurrah,’ and ole Tolver tore open the door, and Tom most split his throat.
“The Kaffirs were on the run, and when I crep’ out, I seed Harry a tearin’ up the hill arter them, with Will at his heels, then—oh, lad!—oh, lad!—from the wood there came out, swift and silent, a party of Kaffirs led by the chief Tyali, and they cut between the three boys and the house.
“I yeard Oll shout, ‘Back! Turn back!’ then again, ‘Together, brothers!’—and the three, clubbing their rifles, went straight at the chief and his men, an’ ole Tolver dancing about at the door, fearing to shoot, and Tom staring with his eyes wide, and the powder running from the horn on the floor.
“Then there were a whirling crowd of men, and the smack of sticks—and the ‘thud—thud—thud,’—and groans—and out of the pack Oll lurched, carrying Willie, whose head lay back limp.
“He came along like a tipsy man—rolling—with his mouth fixed in a smile, and the blood running from his head.
“When he were near the door a Kaffir stabbed him in the back, and the ole baas shot the Kaffir.
“Then Oll reeled back, and he spoke in gasps, ‘I can’t—go—any—further—father—take Will—he’s hurt,’—then he jes’ sank to the ground, and rolled over.
“Seth brought Willie in, and laid him down on the floor.
“And ole man Tolver stood outside the door calling for a loaded gun; and then he sprang at a Kaffir who were stooping to stab Oll, and broke the stock of his gun.
“I were by the door, ’cause I had no strength to move, and I seed someone pass.
“‘Get into the house, father,’ he sed, ‘and hold it.’
“It were Jake; and in his hand he held the axe he took away in the morning.
“He put his hand on his father’s shoulder a moment ‘Get back,’ he sed, ‘for the sake of the boys,’ and then he ran up to where the Kaffirs still swarmed around Harry. He opened a lane with his axe. I tell you I thought it were like splitting water-melons, and I laughed, and Jimmie, he cried. The Kaffirs gave way, crouching and holding their shields up. Then Jake lifted Harry, who were on his knees, and carried him down. As he came, the whole lot of them—maybe five hundred—came with a rush; then Jimmie dashed out, and took Harry from his brother, and Jake stood out alone.
“‘Shut the door!’ he shouted loud and stern; ‘do you hear—shut it!’
“The old baas looked wildly at Seth; and Seth he shook his head.
“‘Shut it,’ sed Jake; ‘in the name of our mother!’ and the ole man with a sort of groan pulled the door to, jamming my fingers.
“Outside were the noise of that fight, and inside were silence, and white set faces, and the tears running from Jimmie’s eyes.
“‘Let me out!’ he cried; ‘let me out!’ he kep’ on cryin’—‘let me out!’ and then he struggled to open the door.
“Then we heard Jake again.
“‘Good-bye,’ he sed; and we held our breath, till the fierce shout rose higher and higher, and we knew Jake were dead.
“Then the ole man’s beard curled up. He forgot about his other sons. He opened the door, and with a roar he ran into the Kaffirs, and Jimmie with him. Seth were follering, too, when an assegai whizzed into the room, and a Kaffir stood at the doorway, when Seth jabbed him in the stomach with the muzzle, and druv his fist into the face of another; then he pulled-to the door, and there were only him and Tom and me, with Willie dead and Harry gasping.
“Then Seth began to sing. He’d stop to shoot, then he’d sing again; and the sound of his singing were worse than the yelling of the Kaffirs swarming all round the house. Tom he stood up in the room tremblin’ and loadin’, his face black where the smoke stuck to the tears, and once and again he’d jump to a hole and shoot.
“And at last an ole pot leg struck Seth on the head and he sot down.
“He put his hand to his head and looked at the blood; then he shook his head and laughed a strange laugh.
“‘It’s all over,’ he sed—‘dang it.’ Then he saw Harry, and he said softly: ‘Poor chap,’ then he stared at Willie, and his eye came on to me watchin’ him.
“‘Abe,’ he sed, ‘you’ll find my concertina hanging up; jes’ hand it to me.’
“Well, I gave it him, and bolted back into the tub, and he began to play.
“The Kaffirs stopped, and I yeard one call out ‘Yinny!’ and others said ‘Yoh!’ and you could hear them trying to peep in.
“‘Tom,’ he said soft.
“‘Yes, Seth.’
“‘You and Abe get into the mealie pit in the pantry. Maybe, they’ll not see you.’
“Tom he shook his head, and banged the gun—and the Kaffirs came hard at the door.
“Seth he went on playing, and Harry rolled over. ‘I’ve got a pain,’ he muttered; ‘mother, I’ve got a pain,’—and Seth he went on playing softer and softer.
“Then I crawled away inter the dark of the pantry—inter the mealie hole.”
Abe stopped, and his face looked grey and aged.
“Well, Abe?”
“That’s all sonny. They did not find me.”
“And what became of Tom?”
“He went with his brothers, sonny. Seven better boys you’d never want to meet, and seven finer men you could not. They all went—in that one day—and the Kaffirs swep’ on over the land.”