Nomfunda was of powerful build, and “Rooi Jan” had not been a very big man. The blood had long since ceased trickling, so after carefully removing the small quantity that had stained the stones, Nomfunda lifted the corpse upon his shoulder and began ascending the steep mountain-side. His course laid for the most part through cover, but he had now and then to emerge into comparatively open spaces. Each time, before doing this, he carefully reconnoitred, but not a human being was in sight in any direction. At length he reached the bleak and broken top of the mountain, and then he made straight for a small cavern he knew of, the mouth of which was concealed by shrubs. Here he laid the body, and after carefully re-adjusting the shrubs at the entrance, he returned to his sheep by a different course. The flock was scattered along the flanks of the mountain; he at once collected it and drove it down to the kraal at the homestead, where he arrived at the usual time. Then he joined the other servants in the hut wherein they dwelt together, cooked and ate his supper and laid himself down wrapped in his blanket,—just as though nothing had happened. But he lay awake during the whole night, thinking of “Rooi Jan,” whilst the dogs howled weirdly beneath the unregarding stars.
Two
The disappearance of “Rooi Jan” caused great surprise and uneasiness. He had left the homestead early in the morning after an early breakfast, with the avowed intention of visiting the farm of Jacob Venter, which was situated about fifteen miles away, and where the girl lived to whom he was engaged to be married. He meant to return during the afternoon of the same day. It now transpired that he had not reached Venter’s farm. Each one of the servants, including Nomfunda, was closely questioned, but apparently nothing had been seen of the missing man since he disappeared riding along the road which scarped round the bluff just below the homestead, early in the morning. The spoor of his horse was traced along the road from here by an old Hottentot named Gezwint, who was celebrated as a tracker. This spoor was found to lead along the road for some distance, and then turn abruptly to the left towards the wooded kloof, at the upper end of which, four miles away, “Rooi Jan” had met his doom. It was late in the afternoon when the fact of the spoor turning out of the road was discovered, and night fell before it could be traced to any distance worth speaking of from this point.
Next morning at daylight the tracking was resumed. Old Sarel Marais had been sent for, but had not yet arrived. Several of the neighbouring farmers had been sent for to come and assist in the search. The party on the spoor consisted of old Gezwint, “Rooi Jan’s” younger brothers Piet and Willem—aged, respectively, fifteen and fourteen years—six young farmers, and several native farm servants. Old Gezwint worked like a bloodhound, deciphering almost invisible signs upon the rough, stony ground, and casting back whenever at fault. On again verifying the spoor after a check, he would call out “Hier’s hij” (“Here he is”), and again run forward on the slot, followed at a respectful distance by the others, who left the real business of the tracking to his well-known skill. It was at about noon that they came upon “Rooi Jan’s” grey mare, saddled and bridled, and tied to a tree deep in the bush. From this point they followed swiftly and without a check the slot of a boot up the kloof to the spring under the cliff. Here the spoor ceased. They found the remains of a recent fire, and the tracks of naked human feet, and of a dog. Beyond this point a spoor was hardly to be hoped for because of the nature of the ground. They spent the rest of the day in searching among the rocky chasms, but when night fell they had found no further track, nor any sign of the missing man. Upon the search party reaching the homestead an hour later, it was found that the flock of sheep had not been brought back to the kraal, and that Nomfunda, the shepherd, was missing.
Three
Nomfunda was herding his sheep on the open, grassy slope to the left-hand side of the kloof when the search party was at work. The day was clear and still, and he could tell the whereabouts of the trackers from the shouts which arose from time to time. As the trackers advanced towards the head of the kloof, Nomfunda drove his flock along the hill-side by a parallel course until the broken ground was almost reached. Then he darted past the flock, and taking a course still further to the right, through some scrub, he worked his round-about way to the top of the cliff overhanging the scene of the tragedy. Here he lay down just above a jutting bush, through the branches of which he could see without being seen.
He saw the party emerge from the forest and disappear out of the range of his vision under the ledge where the spring gushed out. He could faintly hear the sound of voices, but without being able to distinguish the words. After a while he saw the men emerge and scatter about among the rocks, searching. He made sure they had found the gun, but had no fear just then of their being able to trace the body. It was almost dark when the party withdrew, but Nomfunda had been so absorbed in watching their operations that he had lost all recollection of his sheep. He had been in a state of complete fascination during the whole afternoon. Sometimes one or other of the searchers would take more or less the course along which the body had been carried up the mountain. When such happened, the unfortunate culprit would give himself up for lost: the cavern would inevitably be found and searched. Then the man who caused his uneasiness would proceed in another direction, and a joyous, unreasoning relief would take possession of the watcher, only to be dissipated when one of the others would accidentally take the former course.
The stars came out one by one, and at length the last shred of daylight died out of the sky. Then Nomfunda sat up and considered. He had lain on the same spot and in the same position for hours and hours. He began to collect his wandering wits. He suddenly remembered his sheep. Why had he come up on the mountain at all? he asked himself in desperation. He could not now return, for it would be impossible for him to give an explanation of his absence. Why had he not returned with his flock at sundown? Fool, fool—thus to tie the rope around his own neck. No, it would never do to return. He must escape;—but where to? The alarm had been given; he was known to everybody in the neighbourhood, and all would now be on the watch after he had practically admitted his guilt by remaining away from the homestead just when he ought to have been most particular to avoid any conduct calculated to cause suspicion. No, he must remain on the mountain,—for some time at all events. He had his day’s ration with him, but it was still untouched, for all day long he had been unable to eat. He was now hungry, but he determined to keep the food for the morrow. The dog had lain quietly next to him all day; its ears were cocked, its dilated nostrils were continuously working, and the ridge of hair along the back was still erect.
Next morning’s dawn found Nomfunda still lying at the edge of the cliff, and the searchers again at work among the fissures. It was, they made sure, in one or the other of these that the body of “Rooi Jan” would be found concealed. Since the disappearance of Nomfunda, everybody was certain he had murdered the “Klein Baas,” (“Little Master”), as “Rooi Jan” was called. The whole forenoon was wasted on the lower parts of the mountain. Nomfunda still lay on the top of the cliff and watched the searchers. He now suffered from a burning thirst, but until nightfall he must endure this physical, in addition to his mental misery.
Early in the afternoon a shrill yell of “Hier’s hij” arose from Gezwint, the old sleuth-Hottentot. He had again found the spoor. All that could be seen was a frayed pad of lichen on a sloping stone, higher up than any of the other searchers had reached. From this stone the spoor was taken on slowly and with difficulty until sundown, by which time it had been verified to the very top of the mountain, and within about four hundred yards of where the haggard watcher lay, enduring more than the agonies of death, at his post on the edge of the cliff.