“No, you may be sure of that,” observed the doctor, as they lowered their burden to the ground, and laid him on some soft grass under the shade of a large mimosa. “And what is more, I doubt whether our good action will not be rewarded in this instance. Look here, the steinbok was feeding on this melon, when we startled him. See the marks of his teeth, and here are the stalks of one or two others which he has eaten. I noticed these melons as I went by, but I was afraid to meddle with them, as I had never seen any exactly like them, and some melons in this country are more or less poisonous. But the steinbok wouldn’t have eaten them if they hadn’t been wholesome food, and so we may venture on them too. I have no doubt we shall find them very refreshing.”
Frank and Nick accordingly began pulling them up, while the surgeon applied himself to the restoration of his patient, who was still lying in a half-conscious state. But the cool air and soft bed, together with the restoratives, which from time to time were applied, presently brought him round, and he was able to eat as much food as was judged good for him. After partaking of this and another draught of cold water, he fell into a sound sleep, which seemed likely to last for several hours.
“It is still early in the afternoon,” remarked the doctor, as they sat down to their dinner of steinbok and melons, the latter of which proved most delicious; “it is still quite early, and I don’t suppose we can have gone more than a dozen miles since breakfast. Nevertheless, I think we must remain here. This poor fellow isn’t well enough to be left yet, though he may be to-morrow morning.”
“No, we can’t leave the poor wretch,” said Warley, “particularly after what he told us about the Bushmen. They may be lurking about somewhere in the neighbourhood, and may pounce upon him again, and he wouldn’t be able to escape them in his present weak state.”
“Eh, what!” exclaimed Gilbert, jumping up in great alarm at this suggestion. “The Bushmen lurking about! The bloodthirsty savages! They’ll be seizing us and burying us up to the chin perhaps, and then making a cockshy of our heads! Are the guns loaded again, Frank?”
“Long ago, Nick,” was the answer. “Ernest loaded them, while you and I were gathering melons. I saw him doing it, and I don’t think the Bushmen are very likely to trouble us. They have a most wholesome terror of European weapons, and more particularly of firearms, if all that I have heard is true. I think we had better try if we can’t kill one or two of these grey parrots, as you yourself, if I don’t mistake, were suggesting, just before the snake showed itself.”
“I have no objection, Frank,” returned Nick, somewhat reassured. “To be sure these Bushmen can’t very well be as bad as the snakes; and if one makes up one’s mind not to trouble one’s self about the one, one need not trouble one’s self about the other.”
“All right, Nick,” said Wilmore. “Now then, about these parrots. They’re very shy chaps, and will keep out of shot, if they can; and we mustn’t throw away powder by firing, unless with a pretty safe prospect of bringing one down. I think I’ll creep round, and hide behind that big trunk yonder. Then you shy a stone up into the tree in which they are sitting, and they’ll most probably fly out into the open, and give me a good shot.”
Wilmore and Gilbert conducted their joint manoeuvres with so much skill, that before supper-time, half a dozen good-sized parrots had been bagged, and their flesh when boiled was pronounced by all to be excellent. After supper the doctor informed the party that Omatoko, as he called himself, had now quite recovered his senses, and had held a long conversation with him; the particulars of which he was ready to communicate, if they wished to hear it. “Hear it? to be sure we do,” said Nick. “I’ve been longing to learn all about it, and if I had had any idea that he would have been able to talk, I shouldn’t have gone out parrot shooting.”
“You wouldn’t have understood what he said,” observed Lavie. “He told his story in Dutch. His knowledge of English was very small when he came to try it. He says he belonged to a tribe that formerly lived a good way to the south of this—not far from the mouth of the Gariep, I fancy, from his description. There were a good many farms belonging to Dutch owners in the neighbourhood; but Omatoko’s was a powerful tribe, and they seem for a good many years to have lived unmolested by their European neighbours. But about fourteen or fifteen years ago, some Englishmen—traders probably sent by some commercial house—landed near their village, and offered them more liberal terms for their skins and ivory than the Dutch had allowed. Finding the trade profitable, the English returned in the following year, and by-and-by ran up a few huts, where they carried on what promised to be a very lucrative business. It was from them that Omatoko picked up the few words of English which he knows, and he appears to have contracted a great liking for them.”