Читать книгу The Empire Makers - Hume Nesbit - Страница 13

The first week at Cape Town shook them up more than years of living in England could have done. They had been only boys when they first sighted Table Mountain, but in a week’s time they felt and acted like men.

“It is a queer place, this Cape Town,” observed Ned, as they walked through the streets, and looked about them.

It was queer because it was all so strange and new to these English-bred lads. The sandstorm that greeted them on their landing did not surprise the two colonial boys as it did Ned Romer. They endured the infliction philosophically, while Ned groaned, and wished for a few moments that he had stopped in dear old England.

But this gust passed, and, being the first of his experience, it seemed the worst. In a short time he became accustomed to sand, shortness of water, and the lack of a host of conveniences which had appeared as necessities to him at one time.

Stephanus Groblaar continued his protection and friendship to them all the time they were at Cape Town and its surrounding districts. He took them to his uncle’s house, and so saved them the expense of living at any of the hotels, which was a great saving to them.

The South Africans are a hospitable people, and the town-educated Dutch very different from their country cousins, the Transvaal Boers.

The lads were delighted with their reception and generous treatment. They explored Table Mountain, and passed several happy days before they had exhausted the sights of this ancient African capital.

The uncle of Stephanus was the owner of a large and prosperous vineyard in Stellenbosch, and he had half a dozen fair, plump, and lively female cousins, ranging from seven years of age to twenty-three. Stephanus was engaged to the second oldest, a girl of nineteen. They had also eight brothers, all living at home and assisting in the different departments of the wine business.

It was, therefore, a large household, and when the day’s work was over, a merry, home-like party in the evenings.

It seemed to the lads as if they were transported back a couple of centuries while they rested in this vine farm. The buildings were nearly the same age as the great oak trees that surrounded them and shaded the roadways. The tiles and bricks with which they were built had been made in and brought from Holland. Everything was quaint, old-fashioned, and picturesque. The master of the house was patriarchal with his family and servants, and the mother was a real mistress after the good old style.

Morning and evening the old Bible was brought out, and every one was forced to join in the religious exercise. The master did not greatly believe in his coloured servants having souls, yet as this had come to be a disputed question amongst some of the advanced Boers, Van Groblaar gave them the benefit of the doubt, and made them also attend family worship. He was a strict and severe master with these dark-skinned bondmen and bondwomen, yet his patriarchal system appeared to be the right one as far as they were concerned. On this farm they did their work much better than they would have done under the English system.

The girls had been educated at the best Cape schools. They could play on the piano, and had all the other accomplishments of young ladies.

Yet this did not make them disdain household and farm work. They were all able to milk the cows, make butter and cheese, and do all the other duties expected from a Dutch housewife. They reserved their fancy accomplishments for the evenings, and were up to their daily work long before the sun rose.

Although it was a remarkably enjoyable life which the boys led at Stellenbosch, they quickly wearied of it, and began to long for something more exciting. The riding lessons which they took with the sons, and the gun practice were all very useful, yet humiliating also, since they could never hope to compete with those born marksmen and centaurs. It is almost impossible for a true Africander to miss his mark or be unseated from his horse.

As soon, therefore, as they had learnt something about the managing of cattle and Kaffirs, and had found their way about the country, they began to find the society of their puritanical burgher friends slightly irksome. The charming scenery became monotonous, and the tinkle of a piano almost as hard to endure as a barrel-organ is to some ears.

The desire to trek had come upon them, and whenever men or boys get that desire, no fertile oasis, no earthly paradise, can hold them back from the desert.

Stephanus, who was in their confidence, had a private conversation with his uncle Groblaar, and communicated the result one morning to them as they were moping amongst the ripening grapes.

It was not easy for the young ladies or the stolid sons of Van Groblaar to understand how any human being could be melancholy as long as there was plenty to eat and drink. In their own placid minds three of the daughters had decided that Ned, Fred, and Clarence had the makings of very good farmers and husbands in them, and for this felt gratified to Cousin Stephanus for bringing them.

They were considerably startled, therefore, and not a little distressed, when they saw how our heroes brightened up after they heard the result of that family confab.

The old Dutchman, who took a long time to decide upon anything, had been persuaded to send up his yearly consignment of wines and brandy to Johannesburg without any further delay. It would go by road as usual, and the new comrades were to go with the waggons.

By doing this they would see the country, while the journey would not cost them anything.

This offer was gladly accepted by the young men—for they were now, in their own and the estimation of the young ladies, such. They no longer wondered how time was to be killed, but eagerly began to prepare for the long and slow overland journey.

The Groblaar wines and brandy were greatly prized, and fetched big prices everywhere in the market. In the Transvaal particularly they were vastly appreciated. The age was to be depended upon, and the quality; while the grower considered that the contents of these matured hogsheads would be ruined if transported by any other mode than oxen.

Another reason they had for going by road instead of rail. There were numerous customers to be served en route, at places outside the line of the railway.

Three of the eldest sons were deputed to go on this trek along with our heroes and Cousin Stephanus, and as they looked upon this journey as their annual holiday, they provided themselves with everything needful to enjoy themselves.

Twenty teams were required to carry the stores, provisions, and merchandise. The oxen were all specially selected, and the waggons and drays reliable as well as strong; so that when they mounted their horses and inspanned, they were a very smart and prosperous-looking caravan.

Our heroes made their farewells joyously, for they were heart-whole. They did not notice the sad looks that followed after them. Yet three of Van Groblaar’s young daughters did not display their customary appetite at dinner that day, nor did they seem much inclined for supper either that night. Next day, however, they all made up for their unusual fast.

Ned was a little surprised when he came to say good-bye to the young lady who had given him most of her company during his stay, by her saying to him, in a slightly tremulous voice—

“You are going out to a strange land, where there are many dangers. Take care!”

“Oh, I’ll look out for number one, you bet, Miss Santa.”

“Take care of the wild-beast traps.”

“Oh yes, I know; open gaps, and that sort of thing.”

“Yes; and”—she flushed scarlet while she whispered softly—“and look out also for Cousin Stephanus; he does not like you.”

She turned from him swiftly as she gave this warning, and ran indoors, while he mounted his horse, wondering what she could mean.

Then, as he rode slowly on, he recalled the accidents on the outward voyage, with other signs which might have escaped his notice but for this last whisper from the young Dutch maiden. He was not quite so guileless as he had been a few months before. Whatever the reasons were, he felt himself forced to the conclusion that Stephanus Groblaar did not care greatly for him, although he seemed attached to his two chums. Stephanus avoided him as much as possible while they had been on the farm, and he had caught sundry sullen and furtive glances which looked almost like hatred at times.

Well, forewarned is forearmed to some extent. Ned shook the momentary uneasiness and depression from his heart, and soon was riding along merrily with the others.

Not being a fool, however, he resolved to keep a wary eye on this supposed evil-wisher, and look out for any more awkward fits.

It is nasty for any one to feel that he is disliked, much more so if he has done nothing to incur that disagreeable sentiment. Ned Romer was guiltless of anything as far as he knew. He was the most generous and happy of the party. As yet he had never entertained a single animosity towards a human being. Everything that he saw entertained him and provided him with amusement. He had no fear, and tried to make friends with every one.

Besides, he felt specially obliged, in many ways, to Stephanus Groblaar, and therefore would have sacrificed a good deal to be his friend.

But a new instinct had been roused in his nature by those parting words of Santa. The first seeds of suspicion were sown in that generous soil. This seed would grow until it destroyed the unwise trust of boyhood, and make of him a vigilant and discriminating man in the future. Truly he had left adolescence behind him when his horse walked under the shady oak avenues of Stellenbosch.

Nothing occurred, however, to mar their harmony as they moved slowly upward through the populated portions of Cape Colony.

Day after day went along with varying incidents and amusements. When they were able they spent the night at some friendly settler’s homestead, and were most hospitably welcomed and entertained. These were, without exception, Dutch farmers, and old friends of the Groblaars, so that they saw little enough of the British members of the community.

They had mastered enough of the Cape Dutch and “Kitchen Kaffir” idioms to understand what was said, as well as express themselves to be understood by those they were so constantly thrown amongst by this time. As every one was alike free and kind, if a bit rough and homely, they took the most favourable impression possible of this industrious if slow-going and bigoted race.

It was not nice to hear Englishmen so constantly spoken about with such contempt as a nation of cowards and oppressors; yet as the Boers gave their opinions good-naturedly, and exhibited such an utter want of knowledge in their statements, the lads could not help laughing also as they listened.

The farther up they travelled the more crassly ignorant and prejudiced they found their hosts to be; yet, although they universally insulted and tried to bespatter the Union Jack, they universally made their English guests as heartily welcome as were their Dutch friends. The rites of hospitality were most generously observed. It was not that these Dutch Africanders were all uncouth and ignorant men and women. The majority of them were as well and even more highly educated than are these classes in England. A large proportion of them had likewise travelled and seen England and the Continent. It seemed the fashion to be prejudiced against England. They had taken their preconceived notions along with them wherever they went, accepting only such evidences and historical facts as suited their own side of the disputed question. “The English are a nation of liars, and don’t know much about anything useful. They are no use anywhere, and they are almost done for.”

This was the universal opinion of the Dutch natives of Africa, and no argument could move them one iota. They all spoke banteringly and with good-tempered irony, as one might speak of something settled and past curing or dispute. They despised the English as a nation, abhorred Cecil Rhodes, and laughed at Gladstone as a friendly old imbecile. But they did not object to individuals.

The boys listened and laughed with their bigoted but generous friends, and took all this talk in the same good part.