Chapter Twenty Two.
The Thunderstorm.
Ned sternly put his veto on any more monkey-hunting, big or small, as a cruel and useless expenditure of ammunition. They were harmless if left alone, as they were not carnivorous, and totally unfitted for food, unless for starving men, which this party was not by any means.
Therefore, while passing through this baboon land, the company, after this one experience, avoided these open avenues as much as possible. When, however, they were forced to use any of the paths, they made plenty of noise, which warned these creatures of their coming, and frightened them away. It was small honour to the hunter, who possessed a sure eye, steady nerve, and a good rifle to destroy one of these missing links of man, who so bravely and foolishly stood still and made targets of themselves before they made the attack.
There were leopards and other beasts of prey to be encountered, whom to bring down caused no after reflections. These were treacherous and murderous, and, as they lived by violence, so they deserved their doom.
On the next forenoon after this adventure, they emerged from the forest—at least, they reached an altitude where the trees were wider apart and not so densely interlaced. Then they had glimpses of the blue sky and golden patches of sunlight across their path. This, with the fresher air, braced them all up wonderfully.
They were still ascending, and were now fully four thousand feet above the sea, so that the tsetse flies were left behind them.
About midday they arrived at the base of some lofty cliffs, which reared above the tree-tops some fifty or sixty feet. The torrent was still on their left, and had come to be looked upon as an old friend. It flowed through a chasm or split in these cliffs, and fell into another abyss far below their feet. They could see it dropping like a dark blue band between the branches, while their faces were bathed with the cool vapour which rose up from the pool into which it leapt. A couple of rainbows arched this blue ribbon as the sun-rays glistened prismatically amongst the vapour.
These cliffs in front of them rose into the most fantastic shapes and pinnacles. They were of all shapes and sizes, some exactly like ruins of castles, some like pyramids and obelisks. To our heroes, as they looked up, they appeared like a range of deserted keeps and fortifications set there to guard the borders of a strange domain.
Trees jutted out of each crevice, while gigantic creepers swung like rope-ladders over the front of these strangely heaped-up boulders. The long and twisted lines reached from the top to where they stood, some of them as thick as a man’s thigh and others no thicker than a finger.
It was not at all difficult to climb the cliffs with those tough tendrils to hang on by, and our adventurers, without a pause, began the ascent. At length they stood on the crest of one of these castle-like broken walls, and found that they were entirely the work of freakish nature. They were rewarded, however, for their exertions by the magnificent prospect that spread all round them.
Under them they could see the forest which they had traversed, sloping downwards and reaching away until it became a blur of blue haze in the distance. The fierce African sun was pouring down its rays and heat on this vast mass of vegetation, from which rose a film of unwholesome gas, that softened the tops of the trees until they seemed like a great ocean of blended tones. A mighty silence seemed to brood over this vast sea of quivering colours—the pulsing silence of sleeping life.
Above them stretched that wide vault of atmosphere, the glad sight of which they had so long been denied. One and all spread out their arms as if to embrace the welcome light and pure air. Like the sun-worshippers, they experienced a kind of adoration for the glowing orb which was so softly sinking towards the west.
In front of them extended a flat prairie land dotted here and there with mounds and kopjes and devoid of trees, excepting near the banks of the stream, which they could trace as it flowed across the plateau from a far-distant range of mountains. These mountains were so faintly outlined against the sky that they might almost be mistaken for a low-lying bank of clouds. Only their peaks showed them to be land and not vapour.
Not a sign of human life could they perceive, either on the plain or on the banks of the river. No kraals, no huts showed up even, although Ned looked most carefully through his field-glasses.
“Have we discovered a new tract of country, I wonder,” he said, “as yet uninhabited? I see not the slightest signs of cultivation, although it looks as good as Rhodesia or the Transvaal.”
“It appears like it,” answered Fred. “Only I wish we had our horses.”
“Yes, that would be fine, for this seems to be a happy hunting-ground. Look yonder at the peaceful herds of giraffes and zebras. I bet no white man has been here, this generation at least, with his gun,” cried Clarence, who had now quite recovered his spirits.
The Kaffirs leaned on their weapons, and looked round them with glittering eyes. Here, indeed, seemed a country worth trekking to.
“By George! I do verily believe we are the first discoverers. Let us christen it at once. What shall it be?” asked Ned, turning to his companions.
“Jameson Land, if anything,” cried Fred. “He risked his life to rescue us from prison. He deserves this at least from us.”
“So be it. Welcome to Jameson Land, boys; and let yonder range of hills be called the Cecil Mountains and this stream the Rhodes River.”
They pitched their camp where they were for the night, and soon afterwards were busy discussing tea, roasted antelopes, and fresh-made cake, which the Kaffirs baked from the flour they carried.
A young moon showed in the sky that night like a silver sickle, and the stars came out gloriously. As our heroes lay and looked at these sparkling worlds, they thought they had never seen anything more beautiful than that overarching spangled vault of heaven. God had been very good to them to guide them safely so far upon their way. Not a man had been lost. They were as they had started, all except the horses, which was, of course, a universal regret. Yet they were grateful, and did not forget to express it before they went to sleep.
From the cries that resounded over the prairie as well as in the forest beneath them, all through the earlier portion of the night, they knew that there was plenty of sport before them.
During the night a most tremendous thunderstorm burst over their heads with a perfect tornado of wind. Fortunately, they were protected from the full force by those granite cliffs that surrounded them like Titanic walls. They had chosen for their camp a grassy mound, round which those strange-shaped rocks upreared.
The tempest came on, with hardly any warning, just after the young moon had set. They could hear it sweeping over the forest before it reached up to them with a most terrific shrieking. They had only time to drag their loads under the waterproof tent and secure that more firmly, when all the three elements—fire, wind, and rain—were upon them in full force.
What a spectacle this was to those who cared to look! Our heroes crept to a split in the rocks, and looked out upon the fierce bombardment with feelings of awe and admiration.
Over the forest hung the electricity-charged cloud, like a great war-balloon that had been dropped from the bulging heavens. From this ruddy and smoke-tinted mass issued a perpetual discharge of forked lightning. These vivid streaks darted from all sides into that ocean of rank leafage. It was a magnificent display of fireworks. It needed but a moderate imagination to transform this driving cloud into a great demoniac air-vessel armed on all sides with Maxim and Gatling-like batteries of the deadly flame.
Without intermission the lurid flashes darted downwards and disappeared amongst the foliage, each shaft doubtless working havoc with those giant trunks. From the point our heroes looked, however, they could only watch the forked streaks of brightness disappear amongst that yielding blackness.
High above the rolling clouds reflected this vivid discharge with a ghostly pallor, while the avalanche of driving rain in the distance seemed a swirling curtain of blue and silver gauze.
Loud and quick thunderclaps resounded, one peal after another, like the rolling of a hundred batteries of artillery. For fully half an hour the flames and the loud rattle of thunder went on without a break.
They were above this aerial fire-ship, and could overlook its dark upper side from which no flashes came. Over it spread a mighty shadow, moving as it sailed like a black opening in the sky.
It was driving rapidly towards them, and looked as if it soon must strike against the cliffs. As yet no wind or rain had reached them; yet they could see the tempest coming, although there was perfect stillness around them. They held on to the rocks, and watched the approach of this death-dealing cloud with fascinated eyes.
All at once it took an upward sweep, as if drawn suddenly from above. As it did so, the firing seemed to slacken and become irregular. Now it was passing over their heads and driving along with the speed of an express train. At it flew by, it dropped a fire-ball into a large tree that grew a short distance from where they stood. Like a reed, the gigantic trunk bent over the edge, and disappeared with a sound like a shuddering sob. When the next flash came, they saw a great blank where the tree had stood, with a rift in the rocks as if a ton of dynamite had exploded there.
Now the rain and the wind were on them with terrific fury. The thunder-cloud was miles away, pouring desultory and wanton shots on to the plateau, as it raced towards the far-off mountains.
In an instant of time they were drenched, while the tornado shrieked through the rock-rifts like a thousand vengeful furies.
The Kaffirs pitched themselves face downwards, and clutched to the jutting stones, for nothing mortal could have stood upright before that blast in its first force. Our heroes crouched under the shelter of a buttress-like boulder and watched, still fascinated, that disappearing fire-cloud.
In a few minutes, from the little mound ran a hundred streams and tiny cascades into the hollows. These speedily became like filled moats, which swelled upwards until the mound became an island.
Then the wind and the rain left them as suddenly as they had come. The sky once more cleared and the stars burnt with increased lustre.
But their fire had been put out, and for that night, at least, could not be relighted.
Luckily, day was not far off, therefore they formed a square outside their packages, and stood at attention while they waited for the dawn.