Читать книгу Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or, Life among the Kaffirs - E. W. Phillips - Страница 10

The moon shone in over the tops of the bushes outside the cave, with a broad flood of splendid silver light, throwing fantastic shadows inside upon the minister and me, the heap of ashes left from the fire, and on Jack Thompson, still sleeping in the further corner.

The beams falling at a direct angle, the foot of the bushes, by contrast, was left in intense darkness, and in this direction it was that, as the minister aroused me, I caught the sound of a stealthy movement. With suspended breath I half raised myself on my elbow. The minister knelt by my side, his left hand clutching my arm, his face turned to the entrance of the cave, with a finger raised to his lip, commanding silence.

We felt at that moment that our lives trembled in the balance, and, scarcely permitting a nerve to stir, we watched.

The stealthy rustling among the bushes, continued, evidently coming nearer. Once I motioned towards Jack Thompson with a look that I thought he ought to be awakened, but bending to my ear Mr Ferguson whispered,—

“I fear to do so. Our presence may yet be unknown to our enemies, and Thompson makes such a noise, sleeping or waking, that for his safety, as well as ours, he had better remain quiet while he is so.”

“If not conscious of our presence,” I returned in the same low tone, “why are they here? Is it for fishing?”

The missionary shook his head, as he replied, “Scarcely. Why they are here I cannot tell, but certainly not for fishing, for the Kaffirs never eat fish; it being such an aversion to them, that they cannot even fancy other people doing so.”

A few minutes passed in silence, while still the cautious sound approached nearer—yes, up to the very mouth of the cavern in which we were—when with a great gawp, as I peered into the bushes, I ejaculated, “Heaven have mercy upon us!”

“What is it, Galbraith?” asked Mr Ferguson eagerly, bending to my level.

“See,” I whispered, “See; the lion.” And there it stood, its two red eyes of flame glaring in upon us, or rather into the cave.

I felt the tremor in my own frame spread to my companion, and I made an effort to rise so as to be on my guard, but Mr Ferguson prevented me, whispering,—

“Make no noise, Galbraith, he may pass on.”

I shook my head as I pointed to the fresh skin of the hyrax, the smell of which had no doubt attracted the animal. My sign was all eloquent, and like statues—for we felt how utterly armless, and therefore powerless, we were—we waited, our eyes fixed on our foe. Even in this terrible moment, I could not help thinking how justly the lion had been termed the king of beasts. To see him properly, if not comfortably, is to see him free in his native land. The grandness of his head, the rich tawny hue, the eyes bright as fire, the graceful, flowing mane, are beauties of nature which are lost when the fierce bold spirit is caged.

But I had little time, had I had inclination, to take a longer survey, for with his flexible yet massive paw he crushed down the remaining barrier of mimosa, then crouching prepared to spring.

As I noted the action, the twisting, quivering movement of the lithe, cat-like body, all the muscles contracted ready for the jump, the cry of terror remained frozen on my lips—I seemed, I felt as stone. The next moment, however, I was aroused by a sharp ejaculation of horror from the missionary. Starting forward he seized the heavy stick I had cut from the bush.

“Merciful Heaven! Look there, Galbraith,” he cried. “Jack Thompson! The terrible brute will have him. For God’s sake, let us save the poor fellow!”

Before the words could be uttered, the beast with a roar had sprung upon his victim. Like a flash of light his heavy body rose through the air, and the next instant its fearful teeth had fastened upon the poor mate’s shoulder.

He awoke with a terrific scream, then as he saw those fearful, relentless eyes glaring down upon him, must from fear and pain have fainted, for he lay like one dead.

In the meanwhile the minister and I were not idle. Though we felt our efforts must be futile, we yet could not see our companion thus carried off without resistance, for the lion had already begun to back out of the cave, dragging its prey after him.

Opening my knife, I bade the minister stand clear, then prepared to spring upon the animal and plunge it in his throat; but, as if conscious of my design, with a low angry growl, it kept its gleaming eyes upon mine and stopping, seemed to await my attack with disdainful contempt, never, however, letting go of poor Jack, who now with returning consciousness began to moan piteously.

“Great Heaven! have mercy on him,” I heard Mr Ferguson exclaim. “You can never help him, Galbraith; lions are not killed with pen-knives, and the beast has already read your intent. It will be your death as well as Thompson’s.”

“I will try something,” I muttered, never taking my eyes from the lion’s; for I had heard how great the power of the human glance was over these animals, and, certainly mine seemed to hold him spellbound. Suddenly, a thought struck me; I remembered the thick bushes that hung over the top of the cave, and hurriedly said to the minister—

“Our only chance, if we have any, is to make a general attack. Will you, by the help of the bushes, climb to the top of the cave—I feel he will not move yet—while I keep my eyes on his. Then at a given signal you drop on him with that pointed stick of hard acacia, while I will spring at his throat with my knife. We may at least startle him into making a retreat—only for the love of Heaven be quick! or Thompson will recover, and, by his struggles, change the animal’s position.”

In a moment, though the act was so perilous, and indeed, was likely to end in three lives being sacrificed instead of one, the young minister was climbing the bushes.

Anxiously I waited, still keeping my eyes on the lion which, at the sound of the rustling branches, began to beat his tail ominously.

By sense of hearing I tried to divine how Mr Ferguson was progressing, and was congratulating myself by the certainty that he must be near the top, when, suddenly letting go Thompson, with a warning roar, I in horror perceived that the lion intended to make me his victim instead of the mate.

My fate, I felt was sealed. Thoughts of home, of Katie, of my little ones, rushed with the speed of light to my brain, while my heart grew sick.

A prayer escaped my lips, as I saw the wide, blood-red jaws expand to seize me, and the body rise with a noiseless spring. Tottering back, in imagination I already felt the hot breath of the animal on my face—his teeth in my flesh, when a crashing noise abruptly rung in my ears, followed by a cry of fear, and a howl of agony from the lion. Then a cloud of blinding dust enveloped me, and I fell back stunned against the wall of the cave.

It was some seconds before I could clear my eyes sufficiently to look for the cause of the noise, the dust, and of my yet being untouched by the lion, whose moans I could still hear.

On looking up, I saw to my surprise that the moonlight now streamed in at the top of the cave instead of the front which was blockaded by a great mass of rock, partly covered by which was the lion, writhing in agony, and utterly powerless—his hind quarters being crushed beneath the weight.

How the rock had come there, and what was the fate of my companions were mysteries, and I was striving to get my confused senses together to make a search when the head, and then the body of Mr Ferguson appeared, climbing over the fallen rock.

“Galbraith, in mercy speak if you be yet alive!” he cried in accents of terror.

“I am all right, Sir,” I answered, “but for Heaven’s sake tell me how all this happened.”

“I scarcely know—I was climbing the rock when, as I neared the top, I fancied the bush was giving way. I should have fallen just in front of the lion’s jaws, and before I could reflect on the matter, the instinct of self-preservation innate in us all, made me spring out among the bushes beneath. No sooner had I done so, than I heard a terrific noise accompanied by a fall, and, turning, perceived there had been a landslip, the mouth of the cave being barricaded by this rock.”

“And it has saved our lives,” I ejaculated. “The hand of Providence is in it, Sir. We were helpless, and it has saved us by a miracle, for the lion is half-crushed and will be dead shortly, while I can hear Thompson, moaning, not as if in any greater pain than the lion’s teeth must have occasioned. Come in, Sir, and aid me to look.”

Mr Ferguson instantly sprang down, when I with my clasp-knife soon despatched the now powerless and fainting lion; then we groped about for Jack. We quickly discovered him, and found it was the second narrow escape from death that he had had in the last hour, for the rock was scarcely an inch from his head. Drawing him away we bound up his shoulder as well as we could with our handkerchiefs. When this was done and he had recovered consciousness I said—

“I have been thinking, Mr Ferguson, that the unpleasant visit we have had to-night may be repeated. So what do you say to trying to get down to the edge of the sea? The wild animals will hardly come there.”

“You are right, Galbraith; but I doubt if poor Thompson could manage it.”

“Yes, Sir, I think I can,” he answered. “I’m precious weak and faint, sartinly; that beggar’s teeth were rather large skewers and nearly did for me, so I would sooner try to walk to where we shall be safe than risk such another rough style of trussing.”

This being agreed upon, Mr Ferguson and I lent our aid to get Jack over the rock, from whence we began to make our way to the shore. Once the poor fellow fainted, and I thought we should have to stop where we were, but he managed to proceed after a while, and on reaching the sea was much refreshed by having his wounds bathed in the water. After which, as neither of us felt inclined to sleep, we sat down to wait for dawn, though what fresh perils it might bring us was a question we did not care to contemplate.

We had been lying on the beach for, I should imagine, nearly two hours, in silence watching the ocean alight in the trough of every wave with brilliant flashing phosphorescence and silver moonlight, and thinking of our terrible position, when Mr Ferguson, who had remained so motionless that I had believed him to be asleep, and naturally after his two nights’ fatigue, spoke—

“Galbraith,” he said, “I have been reflecting that our wisest plan after all will be to make across the country, for, unarmed as we are, we are like to find the animals about here as dangerous as the natives, who possibly might be friendly and hospitable should we fall in with them.”

I hadn’t much trust in the latter hope, for I had heard many travellers’ tales respecting the Kaffirs, but I answered—

“You know best, Sir; and I think you are right.”

“At any rate, God will be with us anywhere as He is here,” he added. “We must trust in Him, who has already saved us from one terrible danger.”

“That is true, Sir; when shall we start?”

“Not till dawn,” he rejoined. “I have been looking at the stars, also at that headland, and recalling all I have read and seen respecting this coast, and fancy Natal cannot be far off. Who knows but while we are endangering our lives here, some English or Dutch settlement may be at the other side of that headland?”

“You are right, Sir,” said Jack, joining in; “I’m blessed if you ain’t; and if the Dutch only have their schnapps with ’em, I shall be uncommonly glad, for I feel as if I want something to stir me up.”

No doubt he did, for his wounds must have sorely troubled him, though he bore them so patiently.

“I vote,” he added, “that we start at once.”

“No, Jack,” said Mr Ferguson; “there are several reasons for our not doing so first, a few hours’ rest will do us good; secondly, you must have the handkerchiefs round your shoulder wetted again and again to keep down the inflammation; and thirdly, as we must pass through the bush, we had better do so when the beasts of prey have returned to their lairs, for I suspect the visit of one has been already quite enough for you.”

“Too much, Sir, and your third reason is stronger than all the rest put together, so for another wash of these kind remembrances left me by his majesty, the King of the Hanimals, though I could well have excused him paying the compliment, then to wait for dawn.”

Wait for dawn! yes truly; but with what laggard steps it appeared to come. As the hours advanced, the beautiful Southern constellations, the Columba noachi, or Noah’s-dove, the Crux Australis, or Southern Cross—the guiding star of the southern hemisphere, appeared rather to grow brighter than more faint; and it seemed an age before the first golden streaks of the sun shot up into the sky. No sooner had it done so, than I awoke Jack, who, by our earnest entreaties had taken a little sleep, then we started for the bush.

On our way we began really to believe that the place was uninhabited by man, for in the distance we saw nothing to resemble a human being, either black or white; while our own progress, remaining so uninterrupted, proved we had not attracted observation, which we could scarcely have failed to have done, had there been any of the natives near.

On entering the bush we managed to make a breakfast off some fruits which the minister, from his book-learning, knew not to be poisonous, while from the coiled-up leaves of the plantain, we procured sufficient water to slake our burning thirst. We had not gone far, before Mr Ferguson saved me by a quick jerk backwards from the grip of one of those thorns I have before referred to. He informed us that it was a plant very plentiful in the bush, known by the name of uncaria procumbens, from its manner of trailing along the ground; and also called the hook thorn, being armed, as I had noticed, with strong hooks. Besides those on the branches, when the seed vessels break, each of the sides is covered with hooked thorns, which possess such strength and sharpness, that their grasp is with difficulty avoided by the natives, while when the unfortunate European once is caught, all his efforts serve but to fasten him the tighter; for the action of unhooking one thorn only causes him to be seized by a dozen. Indeed, without aid it is almost impossible for him to get away. There is another kind called the Karra-dorn or white thorn, found generally on the banks of rivers, whose thorns are nearly seven inches long, and of such strength and sharpness that a lion has been known to have been impaled on them, and died of the wounds inflicted.

Hearing this account of them, I loudly rejoiced at my good fortune which had kept me from too close a proximity, when first seeing them in the bush.

Mr Ferguson’s anecdotes pleasantly whiled away the time; and to our relief we came across no more savage animals than monkeys, who, as we passed, jabbered and chattered in hundreds from the trees above, which were in general, all festooned with the before-mentioned Baboon ropes. Frequently, however, the Hook thorn presented impenetrable barriers across our path, compelling us to turn out of our course; and more than once, I know the thought occurred to all of the probability of our being lost in the bush. But Mr Ferguson kept a constant watch on the sun, and encouraged Jack with comforting words when, poor fellow, his heart began to fail, for his wounds had made him weak and hopeless.

We must, I am sure, have been over ten hours in the wood before we began to find the trees grow less thickly together, when we made more rapid progress. In another hour we had got to the outskirts of the forest when, laying my hand on Jack’s arm, I said, pointing with the other to a beautifully green plain some little distance off, and slightly below our level.

“Jack, look, we have got to the natives at last. Do you see them, Mr Ferguson?”

“I do,” responded Jack, “and a rum set of outlandish niggers they are. Lor, who can expect to be understood, much less receive hospitality from them. Far more likely to give us a warmer reception than we care for. But what on earth are they about?”

“They are evidently performing some native ceremony,” said Mr Ferguson.

But the description of the tribe of Kaffirs we had come upon, and the ceremony in which they were taking part, I shall leave for the commencement of the next chapter.