Chapter Twenty Three.
On the Plateau.
Existence, for the next five days, was the most enjoyable that our heroes had ever experienced.
They were in a perfect hunter’s paradise; in fact, so plentiful and varied were the specimens they saw, that the prairie appeared like a well-stocked preserve. The game was so trusting and fearless also, that they had about as little trouble to bring it down as sportsmen at home have over pheasant-shooting.
It was glorious, but it seemed too good to last long. When a man gets everything his own way for a time, he is apt to begin foreboding evil to come. This is an instinct which is planted in man to warn him against improvidence. Life is made up of changes, and neither success nor misfortune can last for ever.
Our heroes had been trusting entirely to chance so far. What they killed they had partaken as much as they wanted for the day, leaving the remainder to be devoured by the beasts who came after them, and the morrow to provide for itself.
But now Ned began to think it wise to prepare a stock of food to carry with them, in case the present supply failed.
With this object in view, he made easy marches, and devoted a portion of each day to more deliberate hunting, turning into “biltong” what they did not at present require. These were pleasant occupations to the whole company, and they went along with cheerful hearts.
As far as they had proceeded the land appeared to be ownerless, or in the undisputed possession of the grass-feeding and flesh-devouring fauna. There were no pathways, no signs that any other human feet had ever trod over these plains prior to their own advent. This was encouraging, but it also made them wonder.
To reach it they had come through a pestilential belt, which might have hitherto deterred humanity on that side. But what prevented them from reaching it from other directions?
This made Ned and his companions thoughtful when they discussed and speculated upon the yet unknown problem. Was it surrounded by impassable forests, or worse?
This they were resolved to discover, but the surmise of what might be made them take every necessary precaution, so as to be prepared for whatever chanced.
Meantime they revelled in the gifts which were within their reach. They were possessed of everything that was needful to make adventurous men happy—excepting, perhaps, notepaper, and that luxury they had learnt by this time to get along very contentedly without. The weather was simply perfect. Hot sunshine during the day, with pretty nearly always a fair breeze. Cool dry nights, when they could enjoy their camp fires and their fur coverings.
They clung to the banks of the stream that still coursed along unfailingly.
It was of lesser volume now, however, as they had crossed several smaller tributaries that fed it, so that it was about half the width it had been in the forest. But it was still of passable size and depth, considering they were in the midst of the dry season. It flowed smoothly now, yet with considerable current, and with few windings.
At parts the banks widened out and became nearly level. In these parts it lost its depth, and was a series of swampy and shallow marshes with a narrow winding brook in the centre. These ponds, being thickly covered with rushes and jungle, were densely filled with feathered game: koorhaan, francolins, quail, and snipe, also flamingoes, storks, and ibis birds. Once or twice they started some Koro bustards, and dined sumptuously on the delicate dainty.
They could always tell when they were approaching one of these marshy stretches from the dwindled state of the stream; however, after these were passed the beds became fuller again, as it was constantly being fed by tributaries, and appeared to be one of the principal water-sheds. Round the base of kopjes it wound, rippling clear and unceasingly over its rocky and clay beds; growing smaller as they advanced, yet with pools deep enough to furnish their daily bath, and fringed with brushwood enough to feed their fires.
Every hour they got within range of large herds of African game of some description or other. Zebra, quagga, and giraffes crossed their path frequently; antelopes of every variety were met and shot constantly. Droves of eland, koodoo, hartebeest, reed-buck, and other kinds, evidently throve here, in spite of their natural enemies, that were also plentiful.
They had several encounters with lions during the day, and never a night passed without their presence being announced by their loud roaring. As the moon increased, they were able to see these majestic beasts prowling outside their camp, with their numerous hangers-on, the wolves, hyenas, and jackals, all helping to render night hideous. Several times, also, they roused a cheetah, and seldom failed to bring the tiger of Africa to book when seen.
As yet, however, they had not met either buffaloes or elephants on this plain.
Ned kept strictly to his programme, and led his company straight across the plateau, only turning a little out of the straight course when stalking down some special prey. He always returned, however, to his bee-line as soon as the sport was run to earth.
The distant mountains were his landmark. Each day they were getting nearer and more sharply outlined against the limpid sky. The stream trended directly towards them.
They had taken matters easy during these five days, seldom covering more than ten or twelve miles each day of straight travelling. Some days they had not covered half that distance. On Sundays they always rested; and as a Sunday had been spent on the plateau, they reckoned that they had put in about thirty-eight to forty miles since leaving the forest.
The mountains still lay, as nearly as they were able to calculate, about thirty miles away. These had been rising gradually on their view, until now they loomed a considerable height over the horizon.
As far as our heroes could judge of the ranges, they appeared sterile, rocky, and uninviting; rugged in outline, with upstarting and fantastic peaks, that broke against the sky like great tors.
When the sun shone upon them, the adventurers could see patches of tawny light, with serrated edges and ragged shadows of violet. There were also long zigzag lines of deeper purple, that looked like chasms and steep precipices. Nothing like vegetation appeared to line those bleak and rugged ridges.
“If we are in the land of plenty now, yonder appears to be the land of desolation,” observed Clarence.
“Yes; I fancy we shall see something different over there from what we have hitherto experienced,” answered Ned, cheerfully. “Fortunately, our friend ‘Rhodes River’ still is with us.”
“It is also growing, like the game, beautifully less as we advance,” remarked Fred.
It was true. The stream was only a rivulet now, hardly six feet wide, and not above the ankle in depth. The game they were leaving behind, and a wave of hot wind seemed to spread from those rocky mountains.
They made longer marches now, covering on the first day twenty miles, and bringing up at sundown to where they could see the details of the mountains very distinctly.
During that day they had seen, in the extreme distance, a herd of quaggas bounding away to their rear, and later on had been able to bring down four white-tailed gnus. These were enough for their supper, and they had plenty of dried meat.
They camped by the side of the brook, now less than a yard wide. They had crossed no feeders for the past two days.
The soil round them was more stony and bare than it had been, yet close to the stream the banks were fertile. Before them the ground spread like a desert.
The mountain range in front was forbidding in the extreme. The nearer lap rose abruptly from the plain like a rocky coast. Huge wall-like precipices, that looked impassable, except where great rents yawned darkly at places.
Ned examined these chasms long and silently. The others looked at him expectantly.
“Well, Ned, old fellow, what do you think of those gateways?” asked Clarence.
“Not much—except as gateways,” answered Ned, quietly.
“Then you mean to go on?”
“I should like to see where they lead to—yes, we must see where they lead to,” he added, in a more determined voice. “It would never do to go back and say we were checked by a few rocks. As long as the road lies open and our supplies last, I’ll go on, if you will back me up.”
“Right you are. We won’t leave you to go forward by yourself,” replied both Fred and Clarence, while Cocoeni and the Kaffirs nodded grimly their willingness to go also wherever they were led.
For the first time since leaving Rhodesia the sense of his responsibility pressed heavily upon Ned. As he lay that night and looked over towards the shadowy outlines of those barren rocks, he felt his resolution waver somewhat. He had many lives under his charge, men who were prepared to follow him wherever he chose to go. Where was he about to lead them now?
Death by thirst and want seemed to lurk within those desolate craigs, which revealed no speck of gnus upon their tawny and red breasts, and only the arid shelter of shadow within their stony flanks.
He curiously began to think what must have been the feelings of Moses when he looked at the naked peaks of Attika, after he had seen the pursuing hosts of Pharaoh overwhelmed. These rocks in front of him could not be more inhospitable than were the red mountains of Attika. Yet they had been the entrances to the promised land.
The rank forest had not appalled him as those stern, dry cliffs now did. Yet the forest held as many dangers—indeed, it hid more varied forms of horrors than these chasms could: death in the shape of fever, and submerging in loathsome and treacherous morasses; from venomous snake-bites, and crocodiles, lions, tigers, and the poisoned arrows of lurking savages. There was nearly every kind of peril to be encountered in the forest except one, and here it waited for them—at least, so it seemed to Ned and his companions—the peril of thirst, the most dreaded of dooms, next to fire, which humanity shrinks back from encountering. Would he go on with those dauntless fellows, and dare that terrible risk, or turn back before it was too late?
The half-moon silvered the ground with cool lustre. A little way off he saw several soft-footed, slouching forms prowling about, with swinging tails and luminous, emerald-green eyes, that betrayed them. While he watched their restless motions, and the rolling heave of their lean hips, he became conscious of the musical ripple of that ever-flowing, if diminished, brooklet.
“It comes from those sterile mountains,” he murmured. “And while it still flows, we are in no danger of perishing from thirst.”
Braced up with this comforting solace, his momentary timidity and irresolution passed away, and he felt once more cheerful. Moses and Aaron had faith. So had the other explorers, both in Africa and on the frightful waterless deserts of Australia, and many of these daring, purposeful heroes had endured all and returned to tell the tale. With manly pride he crushed out all recollections of those who had never returned, and dwelt only on the lives of those who had come back.
“Nothing venture, nothing win. If I bring down that nearest lion with the first shot, I’ll take that as a sign that we will be successful.”
The beast in question was squatting at that moment on its haunches, like a great dog, with its face full towards him, and its phosphorescent eyes shining like lamps.
It was less than thirty yards away, and seemed to be glaring full at him. Doubtless it was waiting and hoping that the dreaded camp fire would presently burn out, so that it might get one of those tempting figures which were stretched round it. About a dozen of its companions were sitting or moving about, inspired by the same idea that now engrossed its leonine fancy.
It was a splendid target, for it sat as motionless as if it had been one of the boulders that were scattered round. Ned smiled broadly as he brought his twelve-bore double Metford rifle to his shoulder, and took a careful aim at the dark space between those glowing lamps. It seemed trying for a sign with a pretty certain conclusion. Yet if he chanced to miss, then, indeed, he might well take this as a bad omen.
With a report that startled the sleepers, the rifle exploded, and made them all leap to their feet. But before the sound came, Ned had the satisfaction of beholding the lion bound into the air and roll over on its side, with those green lamps extinguished for ever.
“What’s up now, Ned?” cried Clarence and Fred, rubbing their eyes.
“Only a bit of an experiment I was trying,” answered Ned, laughing, as he watched the other prowlers scurrying off with their tails between their legs like frightened curs. “That old fellow was sitting a little bit too near my rifle for his health.”
“Was that your experiment?” asked the boys, as they looked sulkily at the dead lion. “You needn’t have woke the whole camp for that easy practice.”
“I wanted to see if I could possibly miss him, for I had made it the condition whether we should go on or turn back.”
“As if any one could miss such a mark! Your ordeal of signs is like what the testing of witches used to be—pretty safe to turn out as you wished it.”
“I might have missed, you know; aiming in the moonlight has always some degree of uncertainty about it,” said Ned, modestly.
“Some few of the reputed witches must also have escaped drowning, but precious few did so, I have read,” answered Clarence, sarcastically. “Then, I suppose, since you must have blown the brains out of that carcase, the sign is, ‘Go on and—risk it’?”
“Yes; that is the result,” replied Ned. “Go on and—succeed.”
“That is the consummation devoutly to be wished. Now, don’t waste any more bullets on signs in the shape of lions—until our watch below is over, at any rate. Be sure, Sir Oracle. We are off again to the arms of Morpheus.”