That there was gold in Mashonaland was news to me; for although I had once or twice heard the general opinion casually expressed that South Africa would perhaps some day be found to be rich in minerals, I had never until now heard of the precious metal having actually been found, and I felt sure that, had such a rumour ever gained currency, not even the formidable reputation of the Mashonas would have sufficed to prevent a rush of prospectors into the country. No such rush had ever occurred, for, if it had, the news of it would have spread like wildfire, and every individual in the colony, to its most remote outskirts, would have heard of it. The fact, therefore, that no rush had occurred was conclusive proof that my friend Henderson was the sole repository of the momentous secret, which he had contrived to keep strictly to himself all those years. And now at last he had imparted it to me, and I was free to go up there, if I pleased, and acquire a fortune. True, there was a certain element of risk and danger in the project, for there were a thousand miles or more to be traversed through a roadless, savage country, of which little or nothing was then known except that it was infested by several of the most ferocious species of animals and reptiles, as well as millions of even more ferocious natives. And during a journey of a thousand miles through such a country almost anything was possible. But the spice of danger attaching to the journey appealed to me as an attraction rather than a deterrent; I should enjoy some of the finest sport that the world had to offer, and, with luck, might return a wealthy man. These alone were sufficient inducements; but there was another and still stronger one, which was—Nell Lestrange. She was so young at the time of her abduction, was so young still, that I hoped nothing very terrible had thus far happened to her; but it was unthinkable that a white girl should be permitted to grow up to womanhood among savages, and I was not altogether without the hope that during the progress of my journey I might be able to ascertain her whereabouts and effect her rescue. With so many strong inducements in favour of Henderson’s suggestion, and only one—that comprised in the element of danger and uncertainty—against it, it is not to be wondered at that before I slept that night I had definitely decided to act upon the major’s advice and undertake the journey.
This decision I duly communicated to my host on the following morning over the breakfast table, and thereupon we proceeded forthwith to discuss details. The major was of opinion that I ought to begin my preparations forthwith, for the season was rapidly advancing; it was then precisely the right time to start upon an up-country trek, for the rainy season was over, the rivers were low and everywhere fordable, and the young spring grass was at its best and richest. On the other hand, the dry season had set in, water would every day be growing more scarce, the grass more parched, and the ground harder; in a word, there was not a moment to lose if I desired to avail myself to the fullest possible extent of all the advantages of the season.
Having agreed upon this, we passed on to the consideration of ways and means, and Henderson proceeded to jot down rapidly a list of the various items which he deemed absolutely indispensable, supplementing it with another and much shorter list of further items which, although not positively necessary, would be highly desirable if the available funds would permit. Then the estimated cost of the several items, both indispensable and desirable, was jotted down, and the conclusion was finally arrived at that, if the various purchases were carefully made, the available money ought just about to suffice for the indispensables, with the possibility that, if luck attended me, one or two desirables might also be included. It is due to my friend the major to say that when the total of his original estimate was ascertained, and found to exceed the amount of my capital, he at once offered to advance me such further funds as might be needed to complete my equipment; but I gratefully yet steadfastly refused to avail myself of his generous offer, feeling that I had no right to risk the property of another. Then we sallied forth and proceeded to make our purchases, beginning with the wagon and team of oxen, and then proceeding with the remainder of the items until the resources of Somerset East were exhausted. The ammunition was the most important item of all, and I had early foreseen that it would be necessary to send down to Port Elizabeth for that. I did so, therefore, instructing the dealer to wrap the one-pound flasks of powder separately in waterproof paper, pack them in half-dozens in soldered-up tins, and enclose the whole in a stout wooden case, by which means I hoped to preserve effectually my entire stock of powder from the ordinary accidents of travel in a country subject at certain seasons to torrential downpours of rain, and intersected at pretty frequent intervals by rivers deep enough to flood a wagon during its passage across. The case of powder, which also contained the necessary complement of wads and percussion caps, arrived at Somerset East exactly a fortnight after the dispatch of the order for it, by which time the remainder of my preparations were completed. Nothing therefore remained but to bid my numerous friends goodbye and make a start forthwith.
I suppose it is hardly necessary to state that, when discussing the forthcoming expedition with my various friends, I carefully abstained from all mention of the word “gold”. The major and I let it be understood that I was going to try my hand at elephant hunting as a business, and many were the valuable hints which I received from one and another as to the spots where I should be most likely to find the biggest herds. The last embers of the war were still smouldering in the north-eastern districts of the colony when I was ready to start, but everybody was of opinion that all was quite quiet in the north; therefore, instead of striking eastward and working north along the low land between the Drakensberg range and the sea, as I had at first intended, I decided to strike right away north at once between the Tandjes Berg and Great Winter Berg mountains, across the Zour Bergen, and so over the Orange River and right through the very heart of what is now known as the Orange River Colony and the Transvaal, but was then a practically unknown wilderness.
Behold me, then, trekking out from Somerset East about ten o’clock on a certain glorious mid-October morning, accompanied by a brand-new, well-loaded wagon drawn by a team of sixteen “salted” oxen—that is to say, oxen immune to the terrible lung sickness which is the bane of South Africa—driven by Jan, my former Hottentot driver, who, with Piet, my former after-rider, had contrived to pick up a living in Somerset East during the war, and now—also with Piet—was more than willing to re-enter my service and accompany me to the uttermost parts of the earth, if so it might please me. The dogs, Thunder and Juno, also formed part of my train, having found a home with Piet during my absence at the war. Also, in addition to Prince, there were two other horses, one being a fine, sturdy iron-grey Basuto cob named Tempest, and the other a very useful chestnut named Punch, which I had purchased chiefly for Piet’s use when we should arrive in the elephant country. The remaining member of my retinue was a Bantu boy named ’Ngulubi, about sixteen years of age, who acted as voorlouper, or leader of the front span of oxen of the team.
We trekked at a moderately easy pace to start with, doing, on an average, about twenty miles a day, and contriving, during the first four days of our march, to outspan each night in the vicinity of a farmhouse, where, in accordance with the custom of the country, I obtained hospitality for the night. After that, however, the farms became more widely scattered, and I was obliged to content myself with the cartel in my wagon, which, to be perfectly truthful, I found far more comfortable, because more cleanly, than some of the beds I had slept in. On the evening of the eighth day, about half an hour before sunset, we successfully forded the Orange River and outspanned on its northern bank, by which time the oxen were actually going better than at the start, and were in harder condition.
It was a glorious evening, the sky cloudless, the heat of the day over; and there was just the softest breathing of a cool, refreshing air from upstream. The country, low-lying along the margin of the river and rising very gently as it swept away northward, presented just the combination of rich grass land and bush that seemed to promise an abundance of game, and about a mile upstream from our outspan the river broadened out and was rush-fringed in such a fashion as to suggest almost a certainty of wild duck; therefore, while the “boys” outspanned and attended to the cattle, I took from the wagon the double-barrelled combination of rifle and smooth-bore that I had purchased for my father a year before in Port Elizabeth, and, accompanied by the two dogs, set out for a little walk upstream, partly for the enjoyment of the walk and partly in the hope of securing something a little more appetising than buck meat for supper.
Keeping closely along the river margin, and walking slowly, with the dogs close at heel, I soon became lost
to everything but the entrancing beauty of the evening, its perfect peacefulness and quietude, emphasised rather than broken by the gentle gurgle and ripple of the river along its banks and the soft sigh and rustle of the wind among the reeds; while the swift changes of light and colour flooding the landscape as the sun sank rapidly in the western sky afforded a picture the surpassing loveliness of which there are no words to describe. Unconsciously I halted that I might the better be able to watch the wonderful play of prismatic colour upon the bosom of the river, upon the gently swaying reeds along its margin, upon the broken ground ahead in its emerald mantle of lush grass, dotted here and there with broad clumps of bush, and upon the gently swelling contours of the distant hills, blushing rosy red in the evening sunshine; and for a space of perhaps ten minutes I stood spellbound, conscious of nothing but the surpassing loveliness of God’s handiwork as manifested in the scene before me.