Soon after leaving the giant"s farm the travellers reached a point where the main stream was joined by a subsidiary rivulet. Its corresponding valley branched off to the right, about eight miles in length, containing fine pasturage and rich alluvial soil. It extended eastward behind the back of the Kahaberg, where the settlers observed the skirts of the magnificent timber forests which cover the southern fronts of that range, stretching over the summits of the hills at the head of the glen. To this valley, and the wooded hills which bound it, was given the name of Ettrick Forest, while the main valley itself was named Glen Lynden.
Not far from this point the apology for a waggon track ended altogether, and thenceforth the settlers found the route difficult and dangerous to a degree far exceeding their previous experiences or their wildest conceptions. Jerry Goldboy had now "facts" enough to overturn all his unbelief. The axe, crowbar, pick, and sledge-hammer were incessantly at work. They had literally to _hew_ their path through jungles and gullies, and beds of torrents and rocky acclivities, which formed a series of obstructions that tested the power of the whole party,--Groot Willem and the allies included,--to the uttermost.
Of course the difficulties varied with the scenery. Here the vale was narrow and gorge-like, with just sufficient room for the stream to pa.s.s, while precipices of naked rock rose abruptly like rampart walls to a height of many hundred feet. These in some places seemed actually to overhang the savage-looking pa.s.s, or "poort," through which the waggons had to struggle in the very bed of the stream. Elsewhere it widened out sufficiently to leave s.p.a.ce along the river-bank for fertile meadows, which were picturesquely sprinkled with mimosa trees and evergreen shrubs, and clothed with luxuriant pasturage up to the girths of the horses. Everywhere the mountains rose around, steep and grand, the lower declivities covered with good pasturage, the cliffs above, of freestone and trap, frowning in wild forms like embattled ramparts whose picturesque sides were sprinkled with various species of succulent plants and flowering aloes.
For five days did they struggle up this short glen; two of these days being occupied in traversing only three miles of a rugged defile, to which they gave the name of Eildon Cleugh. But "nothing is denied to well-directed labour." They smashed two waggons, damaged all the others, half-killed their oxen, skinned all their knuckles, black-and-blued all their shins, and nearly broke all their hearts, till at length they pa.s.sed through the last poort of the glen and gained the summit of an elevated ridge which commanded a magnificent view to the extremity of the vale.
"And now, Mynheer," said the field-cornet in charge of their escort, "there lies your country."
"At last!--thank G.o.d," said the leader of the band, looking round on their beautiful though savage home with feelings of deep grat.i.tude for the happy termination of their long and weary travels.
The toil of journeying was now succeeded by the bustle and excitement of settling down.
Their new home was a lovely vale of about six or seven miles in length, and varying from one to two in breadth, like a vast basin surrounded on all sides by steep and sterile mountains, which rose in sharp wedge-like ridges, with snow-clad summits that towered to an estimated height of five thousand feet above the level of the sea. The contrast between the warm peaceful valley and the rugged amphitheatre of mountains was very great. The latter, dark and forbidding--yet home-like and gladdening to the eyes of Scotsmen--suggested toil and trouble, while the former, with its meandering river, verdant meadows, groves of sweet-scented mimosa-trees, and herds of antelopes, quaggas, and other animals pasturing in undisturbed quietude, filled the mind with visions of peace and plenty. Perchance G.o.d spoke to them in suggestive prophecy, for the contrast was typical of their future chequered career in these almost unknown wilds of South Africa.
Left by their escort on the following day--as their English brethren had been left in the Zuurveld of Lower Albany--to take root and grow there or perish, the heads of families a.s.sembled, and their leader addressed them.
"Here, at last," said he, "our weary travels by sea and land have come to an end. Exactly six months ago, to a day, we left the sh.o.r.es of bonny Scotland. Since then we have been wanderers, without any other home than the crowded cabin at sea and the narrow tent on sh.o.r.e. Now we have, through G.o.d"s great goodness and mercy, reached the `Promised Land" which is to be our future home, our place of rest. We have pitched our tents among the mimosa-trees on the river"s margin, and our kind Dutch friends with the armed escort have left us. We are finally left to our own resources; it behoves us therefore, kindred and comrades, to proceed systematically to examine our domain, and fix our several locations. For this purpose I propose that an armed party should sally forth to explore, while the rest shall remain to take care of the women and children, and guard the camp."
Acting on this advice, an exploration party was at once organised, and set forth on foot, as they had at that time no horses or live stock of any kind--save one dog, which had been purchased by the "Brute" (whose proper name, by the way, was Andrew Rivers) from Groot Willem on the way up.
They found the region most desirable in all respects. Open gra.s.sy pastures were interspersed everywhere with clumps and groves of mimosa-trees, while the river, a gurgling mountain-brook, meandered musically through the meadows. From grove and thicket sprang the hartebeest and duiker. From their lairs among the reeds and sedges of the river rushed the reitbok and wild hog; while troops of quaggas appeared trotting on the lower declivities of the hills.
"A magnificent region truly!" remarked Kenneth McTavish as they returned home at night.
""Eaven upon earth!" said Jerry Goldboy, with quiet enthusiasm.
"What splendid scenery!" exclaimed Charlie Considine,--who was addicted to the pencil.
"What glorious sport!" cried his former antagonist, Rivers,--who was fond of the rod and gun.
"And what aboot the Kawfirs and Bushmen?" asked Sandy Black, who, to use his own language, "could aye objec"."
"Time enough to think of them when they appear," said Rivers.
"I don"t believe they"re half so bad as people say," cried Goldboy stoutly.
"Maybe no," rejoined Black. "The place is paradise to-day, as you sagaciously remarked, Jerry, but if the Kawfirs come it"ll be pandemonium to-morry. It"s my opinion that we should get oursel"s into a defensible camp as soon as we can, an" than gae aboot our wark wi"
easy minds. Ye mind what Goliath and Hans Marais said before they left us, aboot keepin" a sharp look-oot."
As no one replied to this, the Scot changed the subject by asking Considine when he meant to leave.
"Not till Hans Marais comes over the hills to fetch me," was the reply.
"He has taken upon himself to give me extended leave of absence. You know, Sandy, that I fill the office of Professor in his father"s house, and of course the Marais sprouts are languishing for want of water while the schoolmaster is abroad, so I could not take it on myself to remain longer away, if Hans had not promised to take the blame on his own shoulders. Besides, rain in Africa is so infrequent, that the sprouts won"t suffer much from a week, more or less, of drought. Your leader wishes me to stay for a few days, and I am anxious to see how you get on. I"ll be able to help a bit, and take part in the night-watches, which I heard Mr Pringle say he intends to inst.i.tute immediately."
On the day following a site was fixed for the commencement of the infant colony, and the tents, etcetera, were removed to it. The day after being Sunday, it was unanimously agreed to "rest" from labour, and to "keep it holy."
It was an interesting and noteworthy occasion, the a.s.sembling of the Scotch emigrants on that Sabbath day to worship G.o.d for the first time in Glen Lynden. Their church was under the shade of a venerable acacia-tree, close to the margin of the stream, which murmured round the camp. On one side sat the patriarch of the party with silvery locks, the Bible on his knee, and his family seated round him,--the type of a grave Scottish husbandman. Near to him sat a widow, who had "seen better days," with four stalwart sons to work for and guard her. Beside these were delicate females of gentle blood, near to whom sat the younger brother of a Scotch laird, who wisely preferred independence in the southern wilds of Africa to dependence "at home." Besides these there were youths and maidens, of rougher though not less honest mould-- some grave, others gay, but all at that time orderly and attentive, while their leader gave forth the beautiful hymn which begins:
"O G.o.d of Bethel! by whose hand Thy people still are fed,"
and followed it with a selection of prayers from the English Liturgy, and a discourse from a volume of sermons.
While they were singing the last Psalm a beautiful antelope, which had wandered down the valley,--all ignorant of the mighty change that had taken place in the prospects of its mountain home,--came suddenly in sight of the party, and stood on the opposite side of the river gazing at them in blank amazement.
Andrew Rivers, who sat meekly singing a fine ba.s.s, chanced to raise his head at the time. Immediately his eyes opened to their full extent, and the fine ba.s.s stopped short, though the mouth did not close. With the irresistible impulse of a true sportsman he half rose, but Sandy Black, who sat near, caught him by the coat-tails and forced him firmly though softly down.
"Whist, man; keep a calm sough!"
The young man, becoming instantly aware of the impropriety of his action, resigned himself to fate and Sandy, and recovered self-possession in time to close the interrupted line with two or three of the deepest notes in the ba.s.s clef.
The innocent antelope continued to listen and gaze its fill, and was finally permitted to retire unmolested into its native jungle.
Note 1. See _Narrative of a Residence in South Africa_, by Thomas Pringle, late Secretary to the Anti-Slavery Society.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
EXPLORATIONS AND HUNTING EXPERIENCES.
Oh, they were happy times, these first days of the infant colony, when every man felt himself to be a real Robinson Crusoe,--with the trifling difference of being cast on heights of the mainland, instead of an islet of the sea, and with the pleasant addition of kindred company!
So rich and lovely was their domain that some of the facetious spirits, in looking about for sites for future dwellings, affected a rollicking indifference to situations that would have been prized by any n.o.bleman in making choice of a spot for a shooting-box.
"Come now, McTavish," said Considine, on one of their exploring expeditions, "you are too particular. Yonder is a spot that seems to have been made on purpose for you--a green meadow for the cattle and sheep, when you get "em; stones scattered here and there, of a shape that will suit admirably for building purposes without quarrying or dressing; a clump of mimosa-trees to shelter your cottage from winds that may blow down the valley, and a gentle green slope to break those that blow up; a superb acacia standing by itself on a ready-made lawn where your front door will be, under which you may have a rustic seat and table to retire to at eventide with Mrs McTavish and lovely young Jessie, to smoke your pipe and sip your tea."
"Or toddy," suggested Sandy Black.
"Or toddy," a.s.sented Considine.
"Besides all this, you have the river making a graceful bend in front of your future drawing-room windows, and a vista of the valley away to the left, with a rocky eminence on the right, whence baboons can descend to rob your future orchard at night, and sit chuckling at you in safety during the day, with a grand background of wooded gorges,--or corries, as you Scotch have it, or kloofs, according to the boers--and a n.o.ble range of snow-clad mountains to complete the picture!"
"Not a bad description for so young a man," said McTavish, surveying the spot with a critical eye; "quite in our poetical leader"s style. You should go over it again in his hearing, and ask him to throw it into verse."
"No; I cannot afford to give away the valuable produce of my brain. I will keep and sell it some day in England. But our leader has already forestalled me, I fear. He read to me something last night which he has just composed, and which bears some resemblance to it. Listen:--
"`Now we raise the eye to range O"er prospect wild, grotesque, and strange; Sterile mountains, rough and steep, That bound abrupt the valley deep, Heaving to the clear blue sky Their ribs of granite bare and dry.
And ridges, by the torrents worn, Thinly streaked with scraggy thorn, Which fringes Nature"s savage dress, Yet scarce relieves her nakedness.
But where the Vale winds deep below, The landscape hath a warmer glow There the spekboom spreads its bowers Of light green leaves and lilac flowers; And the aloe rears her crimson crest, Like stately queen for gala drest And the bright-blossomed bean-tree shakes Its coral tufts above the brakes, Brilliant as the glancing plumes Of sugar-birds among its blooms, With the deep-green verdure blending In the stream of light descending."
"Something or other follows, I forget what, and then:--
"`With shattered rocks besprinkled o"er, Behind ascends the mountain h.o.a.r, Where the grin satyr-faced baboon Sits gibbering to the rising moon, Or chides with hoa.r.s.e or angry cry Th"intruder as he wanders by."
"There--I can"t remember the rest of it," said Considine, "and I"m not even sure that what I"ve quoted is correct, but you see Mr Pringle"s mind has jumped before mine,--and higher."