Sir Garnet Wolseley attacked Secoceni’s mountain. His men fought bravely, but were altogether unable to resist the attack of the English. The place was carried, his warriors killed or dispersed, and his power altogether broken. As the lads were not present at this affair—being well contented to stay for a while and assist their fathers in the farm—it is not necessary to enter into further details of it.
A few months later three teams of waggons drove up to the farm. It was late in the evening, and their owner, who had met Mr Humphreys several times at Newcastle, knocked at the door.
“I have made a long march,” he said, “to-day, and the oxen are knocked up; so if you will take me in, I will halt here for the night instead of going on. The roads have proved heavier than I had expected, and I have done a very long day’s journey.”
Mr Humphreys at once invited the speaker to enter. Mr Harvey was a trader, one of those who are in the habit of taking long expeditions far into the interior, with his waggons laden with cotton, beads, tower-muskets, powder, lead, and toys prized by the natives, returning laden with ivory, ostrich feathers, and skins. He was now about to start upon such a journey, having stocked his waggons at Durban.
After supper was over, the trader told many stories of his adventures among the natives, and the profits which were gained by such journeys.
“Generally,” he said, “I go with six waggons, but I was very unlucky last time; the tze-tze-fly attacked my animals, most of which died, and the natives took advantage of my position to make an attack upon me. I beat them off, but was finally obliged to pack all my most valuable goods in one waggon, to make my way back with it, and abandon everything else to the natives. Now, Humphreys, why don’t you join me? You have got a waggon, and you can buy stores at Newcastle, not of course as cheap as at the seaside, but still cheap enough to leave a large marginal profit on the trip.”
“I cannot leave the farm,” Mr Humphreys said.
“Nor can his wife spare him, Mr Harvey,” Mrs Humphreys put in.
“Well, why don’t you send your son, here, with the waggon?” Mr Harvey asked. “The man who generally travels with me as partner broke his leg the other day, down at Durban, and I should be very glad of one or two white companions. Two or three white men together can do anything with the natives, but if there is only one, and he happens to knock up, it goes very hard with him.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Mr Humphreys said, as Dick looked eagerly towards him; “it is a sort of thing that wants thinking over.”