The plans of our travellers had been well digested. They had decided that they would first prosecute the object of their journey by proceeding straight through the Caffre country to the borders of the Undata River, near or whereabout it was reported that the descendants of the whites would be found located; and as soon as Alexander had accomplished his mission, that they would cross the chain of mountains, and return through the Bushmen and the Koranna country. Their reason for making this arrangement was, that throughout the whole of the Caffre country, with the exception of lions and elephants in the forest, and hippopotami in the rivers, there was little or no game to be found, the Caffres having almost wholly destroyed it.
This plan had been suggested by Major Henderson, and had been approved by Alexander and Mr Swinton,—Alexander being equally desirous as the Major to have plenty of field-sport, and Mr Swinton anxious to increase his stock and knowledge of the animal kingdom. There was little to be feared in their advance through the Caffre country, as the missionaries had already planted two missions, one at Butterworth and the other at Chumie; and the first of these Alexander had decided upon visiting, and had, in consequence, several packages in his waggon, which had been intrusted to his care.
It was on the 7th of May, 1829, that the caravan quitted Algoa Bay for Graham’s Town. The weather had for some weeks been fine, the heavy rains having ceased, and the pasturage was now luxuriant; the waggons proceeded at a noiseless pace over the herbage, the sleepy Hottentots not being at all inclined to exert themselves unnecessarily. Alexander, Swinton, and Henderson were on horseback, a little ahead of the first waggon.
“I don’t know how you feel,” said the Major; “but I feel as if I were a prisoner just released from his chains. I breathe the air of independence and liberty now. After the bustle, and noise, and crowding together of the town, to find ourselves here so quiet and solitary is freedom.”
“I had the same feeling,” replied Alexander; “this wide-extended plain, of which we cannot yet discern the horizontal edge; these brilliant stars scattered over the heavens, and shining down upon us; no sound to meet our ears but the creaking of the waggon-wheels in the slow and measured pace, is to me delightful. They say man is formed for society, and so he is; but it is very delightful occasionally to be alone.”
“Yes; alone as we are,” replied Swinton, laughing; “that is, with a party of thirty people, well-armed, in search of adventure. To be clear of the bustle of the town, and no longer cooped up in the fort, is pleasant enough; but, I suspect, to be quite alone in these African wilds would be anything but agreeable.”
“Perhaps so.”
“Neither would you feel so much at ease if you knew that your chance of to-morrow’s dinner was to depend wholly upon what you might procure with your gun. There is a satisfaction in knowing that you have four well-filled waggons behind you.”
“I grant that also,” replied the Major; “but still there is solitude even with this company, and I feel it.”
“A solitary caravan—but grant that there is some difference between that and a solitary individual,” rejoined Swinton; “however, we have not come to solitude yet, for we shall find Dutch boors enough between this and Graham’s Town.”