The Boy Traders; Or, The Sportsman's Club Among the Boers

by Harry Castlemon

“But are you sure the Kaffirs are gone?” asked Fred.

“As sure as I can be. When they went out with the oxen this morning they took all their property with them.”

“And you saw it and never tried to stop them?” inquired Eugene.

“I did. Why should I try to stop them? If a Kaffir will not work willingly you can’t force him to do it. They would have slipped away from us some time or other, and since they were bound to go, they might as well go to-day as to-morrow.”

The boys were stunned, bewildered by this unexpected calamity, and it was a long time before Uncle Dick’s cheering words had any effect on them.

They had depended wholly upon Mack to make this expedition successful, and to conduct them safely back to the coast, and now that he was gone it seemed as if their mainstay was gone, and that there was nothing left for them but to give up entirely. They had put such implicit faith in Mack, too! It was only during the last few hours that any one began to suspect that he was not altogether worthy of the confidence that had been reposed in him.

But this gloomy state of feeling could not long continue while the old sailor was about. His cheerfulness and good-nature were contagious, and in less than half an hour the boys were talking as merrily about what they had considered to be a misfortune as though it was the most agreeable thing that could have happened to them. Perk’s breakfast completely restored their spirits, and when they had done full justice to it, the inspanning began. This was the most annoying piece of work the boys had yet undertaken. They shouted and talked Dutch and threw stones as they had heard and seen the Kaffirs do, but the oxen were not acquainted with them, and ran away as fast as they were brought up to the yokes. Eugene said it was because the animals were disgusted with their efforts to talk in a foreign tongue, and advised his companions to scold them in English; but this had no better effect. However, after they had all shouted themselves hoarse, and thrown stones until their arms ached, the last ox was put into the yoke, and Walter, who volunteered to act as driver, picked up the whip.

“Whoa! Haw, there, Buck! Get up!” he shouted; and following the example of the absent driver, who always gave the signal for starting by making his whip crack like a pistol, he swung the heavy lash around, but with no other result than to hit himself a stinging blow across the ear. While his companions were laughing at him, and Walter was dancing about, holding one hand to the side of his head, and trying with the other to unwrap the lash that had wound itself around his body, Uncle Dick shouted: “Trek! trek!” The oxen, understanding this, settled into the yokes, and the wagon was quickly in motion.

We might relate many interesting and some amusing incidents that happened during the next few weeks, but as we have to do principally with the adventures that befell our heroes, we must hasten on to the last, and wind up the history of the Sportsman’s Club. Led by the Griquas, who acted as their guides, the travellers finally reached the principal village of the tribe (they saw nothing of the wild Bushmen during the journey, although they kept a constant lookout for them) and when they had taken a good view of it, they fervently hoped that their stay there would be a short one. They could see nothing attractive in the dirty savages who surrounded them, or in the still dirtier hovels that served them for shelter. Besides, they were growing heartily tired of staying ashore. They had seen quite enough of life in Africa, and began to talk more about home and friends than they had done at any time since leaving Bellville. But their departure from the village was delayed more than a month. In the first place, the natives proved to be hard people to deal with. It took them a long time to make up their minds how much ivory ought to be given for one of the guns Uncle Dick offered them, and when that point had been settled, the chief suddenly found out that there was no ivory in the village, and that he would have to send and bring it before any trading could be done. Upon hearing this, Uncle Dick inspanned at once and set out for the coast; but before he had gone many miles he was overtaken by a messenger from the chief, who told him that if he would return to the village he should have an elephant’s tooth for every gun he had to sell. The travellers turned back, and after that there was little delay in the trading. The elephants’ teeth came in rapidly, the last gun was finally disposed of, and when the ivory had been packed away in the wagon, and guides and servants engaged, the travellers were ready to turn their faces homeward.

The last night they were to pass among the Griquas was spent by the boys in doing a little trading on their own account. They were strolling about, taking a last look at everything, and exchanging a few beads, and some brass and copper wire, for spears and war-clubs, when their attention was attracted by a commotion which suddenly arose in the upper end of the town. The boys looked up, and were surprised to see that the natives were running about in the greatest alarm, catching up whatever articles of value they could lay their hands on, and then dodging into their hovels and barricading their doors after them. Some of the more timid ones, having collected their property, took to their heels, and ran across the plain as if a pack of jackals were after them.