'Tween Snow and Fire by Bertram Mitford (world best books to read txt) đ
- Author: Bertram Mitford
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Tom Carhayes returned that evening in high good humour. He was accompanied by another man, a neighbouring settler of the name of Hoste, a pleasant, cheery fellow, who was a frequent visitor at Antaâs Kloof.
âWell, Mrs Carhayes,â cried the latter, flinging his right leg over his horseâs neck and sliding to the ground side-saddle fashion, âyour husband has been pretty well selling up the establishment to-day. What do you think of that? Hallo, Milne. How âdo?â
âIâve made a good shot this time,â assented Carhayes, âIâve sold off nearly three thousand of the sheep to Reid, the contractor, at a pound a head all round. What do you think of that, Eustace? And a hundred and thirty cattle, too, heifers and slaughter stock.â
âHâm! Well, you know best,â said Eustace. âBut why this wholesale clearance, Tom?â
âWhy? Why, man, havenât you heard? No, of course he hasnât. War! Thatâs why. War, by the living Jingo! Itâs begun. Our fellows are over the Kei already, peppering the niggers like two oâclock.â
âOr being peppered by themâwhich so far seems to be the more likely side of the question,â struck in Hoste. âA report came into Komgha to-day that there had been a fight, and the Police had been licked. Anyhow, a lot more have been moved across the river.â
âWait till we get among them,â chuckled Carhayes. âEh, Hoste? Weâll pay off some old scores on Jack Kafirâs hide. By the Lord, wonât we?â
âJa. Thatâs so. By-the-by, Mrs Carhayes, I mustnât forget my errand. The wife has picked up a cottage in Komgha, and particularly wants you to join her. She was lucky in getting it, for by now every hole or shanty in the village is full up. There are more waggons than houses as it is, and a lot of fellows are in tents. They are going to make a big laager of the place.â
Eanswyth looked startled. âAre things as bad as all that?â she said.
âThey just are,â answered Hoste. âYou canât go on staying here. It isnât safeâis it, Carhayes? Everyone round here is trekking, or have already trekked. I met George Payne in Komgha to-day. Even he had cleared out from Fountains Gap, and thereâs no fellow laughs at the scare like he does.â
âHoste is right, Eanswyth,â said Carhayes. âSo youâd better roll up your traps and go back with him to-morrow. I canât go with you, because Reid is coming over to take delivery of the stock. Eustace might drive you over, if he donât mind.â
Eustace did not mindâof that we may be sure. But although no glance passed between Eanswyth and himself, both were thinking the same thing. To the mind of each came back the words of that morning: âA sort of instinct tells me it is the last day we shall have to ourselves for some time to come!â And it would be.
They sat down to supper. Tom Carhayes was in tremendous spirits that evening. He breathed threatenings and slaughter against the whole of the Xosa race, chuckling gleefully over the old scores he was going to pay off upon it in the persons of its fighting men. In fact, he was as delighted over the certainty of an outbreak as if he held half a dozen fat contracts for the supply of the troops and levies.
âIâll keep a tally-stick, by Jove; and every nigger I pot Iâll cut a nick,â he said. âThereâll be a good few notches at the end of the war! It was a first-class stroke of luck doing that deal with Reid, wasnât it, Eustace? We shall have our hands entirely free for whatever fun turns up.â
Eustace agreed. He had reasons of his own for wanting to keep his hands free during the next few monthsâpossibly, however, they were of a different nature to those entertained by his cousin.
âWe can move the rest of the stock to Swaanepoelâs Hoek,â went on Carhayes. âBentley will be only too glad to look after it for a consideration. Then for some real sport! Eustace, pass the grog to Hoste.â
âThat your Somerset East farm?â said the latter, filling his glass.
âYes. Not a bad place, either; only too stony.â
âYouâre a jolly lucky fellow to have a Somerset East farm to send your stock to,â rejoined Hoste. âI wish I had, I know. The few sheep I have left are hardly worth looking after. There are safe to be a lot of Dutchmen in laager with brandt-zick flocks, and ours will be covered with it by the time itâs all over. Same thing with cattle. Red water and lung sickness will clear them all out too.â
âWell, weâll lift a lot from old Kreli to make up for it,â said Carhayes. âBy the way, Eustace. Talking of Kreliâheâs been summoned to meet the Governor and wonât go.â
âHâm. Small wonder if he wonât. What was the upshot of his father, Hintza, being summoned to meet the Governor?â
âOh, youâre always harping on that old string,â said Carhayes impatiently. âHang it allâas if a lot of red-blanket niggers are to be treated like civilised beings! Itâs ridiculous, man. Theyâve got to do as they are told, or they must be made to.â
âThatâs all very pretty, Tom. But the âmakingâ hasnât begun yet. By the time itâs ended, we shall have a longish bill to payâand a good many vacant chairs at various household tables. Fair play is fair playâeven between our exalted selves and âa lot of red-blanket niggers.ââ
âMilne is right, Carhayes,â struck in Hoste. âMilne is right so far. Kafirs have got long memories, and I, for one, donât blame old Kreli for snapping his fingers at the Governor. But I donât agree with him that we havenât treated him fairly on the whole. Hang it, what have they got to complain of?â
âI donât say they have anything in that line,â said Eustace. âMy remark about treating them fairly was only in answer to what Tom suggested. Still, I think it a mistake to have located the Fingoes and GcalĂ©kas next door to each other, with a mere artificial boundary between. It was safe to produce a shindy sooner or later.â
Thus the ball of conversation rolled on. Carhayes, excited over the prospect of hostilities, took a glass or two of grog more than was good for him, and waxed extremely argumentative as they adjourned to the stoep for an al fresco smoke. So he and his guest began, continued, and ended the campaign according to a great diversity of plans, each highly satisfactory to its originators and proportionately disastrous to the dark-skinned enemy.
In this conversation Eanswyth did not join. The sweet and soothing influences of the day just passed filled her mindâand all this noisy talk jarred upon her. To her also the prospect of the coming campaign was a welcome one. After the events of the last twenty-four hours to go on living as heretofore would be a terrible strain. Her newly awakened love for the one man was so overwhelming as to engender in her a proportionate feeling of aversion towards the other. It was a fearful position. The temporary separation involved by the campaign would be more than welcome. But separation from the one meant separation from the other. That was not welcome.
And that otherâwhat if he were to fall? He was so fearlessâso foolhardy and confident. What if he undertook some insane mission and was treacherously murdered?âO Heavenâwhat would life be without him now? And a rush of tears brimmed to her eyes at the mere thought.
Eustace, who had remained behind for a moment, to light his pipe, looked up and caught her glance.
âI suppose I had better arrange to drive you over to Komgha to-morrow?â he said, aloud and in an ordinary voice. Outside the other two were talking and arguing at a great rate.
âYes, I would not forego that for anything,â she whispered. âButâleave me now, or I shall break down. Quick! I wish it.â
One glance, straight into her eyes, and he obeyed. But that glance had said enoughâhad said more than many words could have done.
âBy the way, Tom,â said Eustace, joining the pair of wranglers outside. âWhat about Nteya? You were going to have him run in, you know.â
âSo! Well, you see, itâs this way: I got on that deal with Reid, first thing, and that drove the other out of my head. I had a job to find Reid, in the first place, but when you hear of a man willing to give a lumping big price for what you want to sell, that manâs worth some hunting for, I can tell you. So I let Nteya slideâuntil we reach the Gaika location. Then Iâll take it out of him, and a good many more of them too.â
Next morning, shortly after sunrise, the contractor arrived to take delivery of the stock. So he and Carhayes were extremely busy, the latter too much so to be able to afford more than an off-hand and hurried farewell to his wife.
But the same held not good of his cousin and partner. Indeed one would think that Eustace had no concern whatever in the sale for all the interest he took in it. Far more concerned was he to ensure that Eanswyth had every conceivable thing that might conduce to her comfort and convenience during her journeying to and sojourn in the settlement, than to satisfy himself that Contractor Reid, a canny Scot and a knowing file at a deal, should be allowed no loop-hole for climbing down from or getting behind his bargain.
âI say, Milne,â cried Hoste, while the horses were being inspanned. âItâs rather slow work riding by oneâs self. Letâs span in my horse as a leader, and drive unicorn. Thereâs room for my saddle if we tie it on behindâand I can get in the cart with you. More sociable like. See?â
But Eustace didnât see, or rather didnât want to see. This was clearly a case of âtwoâs company, threeâs a crowd.â
Equally clearly was it a case wherein the third might be excused for omitting to apply the maxim.
âThereâs a goodish weight in the trap already,â he replied dubiously. But Eanswyth struck in:
âWe can make room for you, Mr Hoste. Certainly. And if we have the additional pull of your horse it will neutralise the additional weight.â
Eustace said nothing. If Eanswythâs mood had undergone something of a change since last night, that was only natural, he allowed. The arrangement was not to his liking. But then, of most arrangements in this tiresome world the same held good. With which reflection, being a philosopher, he consoled himself.
There was not much sign of the disturbed state of the country during the first part of the drive. But later, as they drew nearer the settlement, an abandoned homesteadâstanding silent and deserted, its kraals empty and the place devoid of life, or a trek of sheep and cattle raising a cloud of dust in the distance, together with a waggon or two loaded with the families and household goods of those, like themselves, hastening from their more or less isolated positions to seek safety in numbers, spoke eloquently and with meaning. Now and again a small group of Kafirs would pass them on the road, and although unarmed, save for their ordinary kerries, there seemed a world of grim meaning in each dark face, a menace in the bold stare which did duty for the ordinarily civil, good-humoured greeting, as if the savages knew that their time was coming now.
It was a splendid day, sunny and radiant. But there was an oppressiveness in the atmosphere which portended a change, and ever and anon came a low boom of thunder. An inky cloud was rising behind the Kabousie Heights, spreading wider and wider over the plains of Kafirland. A lurid haze subdued the sunshine, as the rumble of the approaching storm drew nearer and nearer, and the blue electric flashes played around
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