the bergenaars.
“so you like the study of french?” said charlie considine, as he sat one morning beside bertha marais in the porch of her father’s dwelling.
“yes, very much,” answered the girl. she said no more, but she thought, “especially when i am taught it by such a kind, painstaking teacher as you.”
“and you like to live in the wild karroo?” asked the youth.
“of course i do,” was the reply, with a look of surprise.
“of course. it was a stupid question, bertha; i did not think at the moment that it is home to you, and that you have known no other since you were a little child. but to my mind it would be a dull sort of life to live here always.”
“do you find it so dull?” asked bertha, with a sad look.
“no, not in the least,” replied the youth, quickly. “how could i, living as i do with such pleasant people, like one of their own kith and kin, hunting with the sons and teaching the daughters—to say nothing of scolding them and playing chess, and singing and riding. oh no! i’m anything but dull, but i was talking generally of life in the karroo. if i lived alone, for instance, like poor horley, or with a disagreeable family like that of jan smit—by the way, that reminds me that we have heard news of the three runaways, ruyter, jemalee, and booby.”
“oh! i’m so glad,” cried bertha, her fair face brightening up with pleasure, “for i am very fond of ruyter. he was so kind to me that time he found me lying near smit’s house, when my pony ran away and threw me, and i felt so miserable when i heard that his master was cruel and often beat him with a sjambok. often and often since he ran away—and it must be nearly a year now—i have prayed god that he might come back, and that jan smit might become good to him—what have you heard?”
considine’s face wore a troubled look. “i fear,” he said, “the news will distress you, for what i heard was that the three men, driven to desperation by the harsh treatment received from their master, have joined one of the fiercest of these gangs of robbers, called the bergenaars—the gang led, i believe, by dragoener. it was lucas van dyk, the hunter, who told me, and he is said to be generally correct in his statements.”
bertha’s nether lip quivered, and she hid her face in her hands for a few moments in silence.
“oh! i’m so sorry—so sorry,” she said at length, looking up. “he was so gentle, so kind. i can’t imagine ruyter becoming one of those dreadful bergenaars, about whose ferocious cruelty we hear so much—his nature was so different. i can’t believe it.”
“i fear,” rejoined considine gently, “that it is true. you know it is said that oppression will drive even a wise man mad, and a man will take to anything when he is mad.”
“it could not drive a christian to such a life,” returned the girl sadly. “oh! i wish he had become a christian when stephen orpin spoke to him, but he wouldn’t.”
“when did orpin speak to him, and what did he say?” asked considine, whose own ideas as to christianity were by no means fixed or clear.
“it was just after that time,” rejoined bertha, “when jan smit had had him tied to a cart-wheel, and flogged so terribly that he could not walk for some days. orpin happened to arrive at the time with his waggon—you know he has taken to going about as a trader,—and he spoke a great deal to ruyter about his soul, and about jesus coming to save men from sin, and enabling them to forgive their enemies; but when ruyter heard about forgiving his enemies he wouldn’t listen any more. pointing to his wounds, he said, ‘do you think i can forgive jan smit?’”
“i don’t wonder,” said considine; “it is too much to expect a black fellow smarting under the sjambok to forgive the man who applies it—especially when it is applied unjustly, and with savage cruelty.”
bertha was not gifted with an argumentative spirit. she looked anxiously in the face of her companion, and murmured some broken sentences about the lord’s prayer and the golden rule, and wound up by saying hesitatingly, “how can we ask forgiveness if we do not forgive?”
“you are right, bertha,” was considine’s rejoinder, uttered gravely; “but, truly, a man must be more than a man to act on such principles. think, now of the state of things at the present time with regard to the settlers. the ‘rust,’ as they call that strange disease which has totally ruined the first year’s crop of wheat, has thrown the most of them into difficulties, and in the midst of this almost overwhelming calamity down came the kafirs on the albany district, and the bergenaars, of whom we have just been speaking, not, like men, to fight openly—that were endurable,—but like sly thieves in the dead of night, to carry off sheep and cattle from many of the farms—in some cases even killing the herdsmen. now, what think you must be the feelings of the settlers towards these kafirs and runaway robbers?—can they forgive?”
bertha didn’t know. she thought their feelings must be very harsh. diverging from the question, however, she returned to the first regret—namely, that her friend ruyter had joined the bergenaars.
“hallo! considine, hi! where are you?” came the sonorous voice of conrad marais in the distance, interrupting the conversation. next moment the hearty countenance of the farmer followed his voice round the corner of the house.
“come, get your gun, my boy!” he cried in some excitement. “these villains have been down last night and carried off two spans of my best oxen, besides killing and devouring several sheep.”
considine started up at once.
“we shall be off in half an hour,” continued the farmer; “hans is away gathering one or two neighbours, and the people are almost ready.”
“do you accompany them?” asked considine.
“of course i do. come along.”
the youth required no urging. in a few minutes he was armed and mounted, galloping in company with a score of horsemen—black, brown, and white—towards the cattle-kraals. here was already assembled by hans a troop of mounted men, among whom were jan smit and his three sons, david, jacob, and hendrik, also the hunter van dyk. after a brief consultation, in which van dyk took a prominent part, they rode off at a smart gallop.
we change the scene now to a large and dark cavern up among the wild heights of the winterberg mountains.
it was evening, but the sun had still a considerable distance to descend before finding its bed on the western horizon. a faint gleam of day entered the cave, which was further illuminated by three fires, over which a band of savage-looking dark-skinned men were roasting chops and marrow-bones. abdul jemalee the malay slave and booby the bushman were there, assisting at the feast. at the inner end of the cave, seated beside two men, was ruyter the hottentot. he was a good deal changed from the rough but careless and jolly fellow whom we first introduced to the reader. there was a stern severity on his countenance, coupled with a touch of sadness when in repose, but when called into action, or even when conversing, the softer feeling vanished, and nothing remained but the lines indicative of a stern settled purpose. most of the robbers around him had like himself fled from harsh masters, and become hardened in a career of crime. the expression of almost every countenance was vindictive, sensual, coarse. ruyter’s was not so. unyielding sternness alone marked his features, which, we have elsewhere remarked, were unusually good for a hottentot. being a man of superior power he had become the leader of this robber-band. it was only one of many that existed at that time among the almost inaccessible heights of the mountain-ranges bordering on the colony. his companions recognised the difference between themselves and their captain, and did not love him for it, though they feared him. they also felt that he was irrevocably one of themselves, having imbrued his hands in white man’s blood more than once, and already made his name terrible on that part of the frontier.
“they should be here by this time,” said ruyter, in dutch, to one of the men at his side. “why did you send them off before i returned?”
he said this with a look of annoyance. the man replied that he had acted according to the best of his judgment and had been particular in impressing the leader of the party that he was not to touch the flocks of old marais, but to devote himself entirely to those of jan smit.
to this ruyter observed with a growl that it was not likely they would attend to such orders if marais’ herds chanced to be handy, but the robber to whom he spoke only replied with a sly smile, showing that he was of the same opinion.
just then a man rushed into the cave announcing the fact that their comrades were returning with plenty cattle and sheep, but that they were pursued.
instantly the chops and marrow-bones were flung aside, and the robbers, hastily arming, mounted their horses and descended to the rescue.
the band of which ruyter had become leader had existed some time before he joined. it was a detachment from a larger band who acknowledged as their chief a desperado named dragoener. this bushman had been in the service of diederik muller, but, on being severely flogged by a hot-tempered kinsman of his master, had fled to the mountains, vowing vengeance against all white men. it is thus that one white scoundrel can sometimes not only turn a whole tribe of savages into bitter foes of the white men in general, but can bring discredit on his fellows in the eyes of christian people at a distance, who have not the means of knowing the true state of the case. be this as it may, however, dragoener with his banditti soon took ample revenge on the colonists for the sjamboking he had received.
not long previous to the period of which we write he had been reinforced by ruyter, jemalee, booby, and several other runaway slaves, besides some “wild bushmen,”—men who had never been in service, and were so called to distinguish them from men who had been caught, like our friend booby, and “tamed.” a few deserters from the cape corps, who possessed fire-arms, had also joined him.
thus reinforced, dragoener and his lieutenant had become bolder than ever in their depredations. one of his bands had recently carried off a large number of cattle and horses from the tarka boers, who had called out a commando and gone in pursuit. driven into a forest ravine, and finding it impossible to retain possession of their booty, the robbers had cut the throats of all the animals, and, scattering into the jungle, made their escape. another band had frequently annoyed the scotsmen at baviaans river.
when therefore the band under ruyter heard of the approach of their comrades with booty, and of the pursuit by colonists, they went to the rescue, somewhat emboldened by recent successes. on meeting their comrades, who were driving the cattle and horses before them in frantic haste, they were told that the pursuers were in strong force, and numbered among them several of the boldest men and best shots on the frontier.
there was no time for holding a council of war. ruyter at once divided his men into two bands. with the larger, well armed, and having two or three deserters with muskets, he crept into the woods to lay an ambush for the enemy. the other band was ordered to continue driving the cattle with utmost speed, and, in the event of being overtaken, to cut the animals’ throats and each man look out for himself.
if ruyter’s men had been as bold and cool as himself they might have checked the pursuit, but when the hunter van dyk, who knew their ways, advanced in front of his comrades by a path known to himself, discovered their ambush and sent a bullet through the head of one of their number, they awaited no further orders but rose en masse, fled through the jungle, and made for the mountains.
van dyk, reloading in hot haste, followed swiftly, but he had not taken three steps when charlie considine was at his heels. he had dismounted and followed van dyk. the other pursuers made a détour on horseback to cut off the robbers as they passed over some open ground in advance. in attempting this they came on a spot where the ground was strewn with the dead or dying cattle. with a yell of rage they pushed on, but utterly failed, for the bandits had headed in another direction and gained the cliffs, where pursuit on horseback was impossible. knowing that it would have been equally fruitless to continue the chase on foot, they returned to the point where van dyk and considine had entered the jungle, fully expecting to find them there, as it would have been madness, they thought, for two unsupported men to follow up the flying band. to their surprise they found no one there.
“we must follow their spoor, boys,” said conrad marais, with an anxious look; “they cannot be far off, but we must not leave them unsupported in the jungle with such a lot of black villains flying about.”
action was at once taken. the most experienced men dismounted and traced the spoor, with the unerring certainty of bloodhounds. but they shouted and searched in vain till night compelled them to desist.
meanwhile van dyk and considine had been captured by the bergenaars.
when charlie overtook the hunter, as already described, his ardent spirit and strong supple limbs enabled him to outrun his more massive though not less enthusiastic companion. a short run soon convinced the hunter that there was no chance of a clothed white man overtaking a more than half-naked native in a thorny jungle. indeed, he was already well convinced by former experience of this fact, and had intended to engage in pursuit for only a short time, in order if possible to obtain a flying shot at one or two of the robbers, but his young comrade’s resolute continuance of the chase forced him to hold on longer than he desired.
“stop! stop, young fellow,” he shouted with stentorian voice; “stop, i say! you’ll only waste your breath for no good,” he shouted.
but considine heard him not. he had caught sight of one of the bandits who seemed to be losing strength, and, being himself sound in wind and limb, he recklessly determined to push on.
“i’ll leave you to your fate,” roared van dyk, “if you don’t stop.”
he might as well have roared to a mad buffalo. considine heeded or heard not.
“it won’t do,” growled the hunter in a stern soliloquy as he stopped a moment to tighten his belt. “well, well, i little thought, van dyk, that you’d be brought to such a miserable fix as this, in such a stupid way too. but he mustn’t be left to the bushmen’s tender mercies.”
the hunter’s swart countenance grew darker as he spoke, for he well knew the extremity of danger into which the reckless youth was compelling him to run, but he did not hesitate. instead, however, of following in the steps of one who was fleeter of foot than himself, he made a détour to the right. in an hour he reached a cliff under which, he knew, from the form of the valley up which the pursuit had been conducted, his young companion must needs pass. the route he had taken was a short cut. he had headed considine and saw him, a few minutes later, in the gorge below, in full pursuit of the robber.
“h’m!” grunted van dyk, as he sat down on a rock and examined the priming of his great elephant-gun, “i thought as much! the black scoundrel is just playing with him—decoying the young idiot on till he gets him surrounded by his comrades; but i’ll spoil his game, though it’s like to be the last shot i’ll ever fire.”
a low quiet sigh escaped from the hunter as he watched the two men and awaited the proper moment.
he was evidently right in his conjecture, for, as they drew near the cliff, the black man looked over his shoulder once or twice and slackened his pace. the next moment he gave a shout which proved to be a signal, for two of the robbers sprang out from the bushes and seized considine, almost before he had seen them. vigorously he struggled, and would perhaps have thrown off both, had not the man he had been chasing turned and run to aid the others.
quickly but steadily van dyk raised his gun and covered this man. next moment the muzzle was struck aside, the ball flew harmlessly into the jungle, and the hunter was pinioned, overthrown, and rendered helpless by four of the robbers, who had been watching his motions all the time.
van dyk was not taken much by surprise. he knew that such danger was probable, and had done his best to avoid it. with that self-command which a life of constant danger in the woods had taught him, he bowed to the inevitable, and quietly submitted to be bound and led away.
mean while ruyter, for it was he who had been chased, came up in time to assist in securing his victim.
“what, ruyter, is it you?” exclaimed considine in amazement.
when the robber-chief became aware who he had captured, an expression of deep annoyance or regret crossed his face, but it quickly passed into one of stern almost sulky determination, as he ordered the two men, in dutch, to make the bonds secure. he deigned no reply to the prisoner’s question. he did not even appear to recognise him, but strode on in front, while the two robbers drove the youth up into the rocky fastnesses of the mountains.
that night our hero found himself seated in the deepest recesses of a cavern by the side of his comrade van dyk. the arms of both were firmly bound behind their backs, but their legs were free, their captors knowing well that a scramble among such giddy and rugged heights without the use of the hands was impossible. in the centre of the cavern sat the robbers round a small fire on which some of them were cooking a few scraps of meat.
“a pretty mess you’ve led yourself and me into, young fellow!” said the hunter sternly.
“indeed i have,” replied considine, with a very penitent air, “and i would give or do anything to undo the mischief.”
“ja—always the same with wild-caps like you,” returned the other,—“ready to give anything when you’ve got nothing, and to do anything when you’re helpless. how much easier it would have been to have given a little heed and shown a little common sense when you had the chance!”
there was a touch of bitterness, almost fierceness, in the hunter’s tone, which, knowing the man’s kindly nature, considine could not quite understand.
“do you know what them reptiles there are saying?” continued van dyk after a brief pause.
“no, their language is mere gibberish to me.”
“they’re discussin’ the best method of puttin’ us out of existence,” said the hunter, with a grim smile. “some of ’em want to cut our throats at once and have done with it; some would like to torture us first; others are in favour of hangin’, but all agree that we must be killed to prevent our tellin’ the whereabouts of their hiding-place up here,—all except one, the one you gave chase to this afternoon. he advises ’em to let us go, but he don’t seem very earnest about it.”
“i think i know the reason of his favouring us,” said considine, with a look of hope.
“indeed?”
“yes; he once journeyed with me from capetown to the karroo, and probably he feels a touch of regard for his old travelling companion.”
“h’m! i wouldn’t give much for his regard,” growled van dyk. “the reed is slender, but it’s the only one we have to lean on now. however, we’ve got a reprieve, for i heard ’em say just now that they’ll delay executing us till to-morrow, after reaching one of their other and safer retreats in the mountains.”
the prisoners were put into a smaller cave, close to the large one, that night. their bonds were made more secure, and, as an additional precaution, their legs were tied. two men were also appointed to guard the entrance of their prison.
about midnight the camp was perfectly still, and the only sounds that broke the silence were the tinkling of a neighbouring rill and the footfall of the sentinels. van dyk and considine were lying uneasily on the bare ground, and thinking of the tragic fate that awaited them on the morrow, when they observed the dim figure of a man approaching from the innermost end of the cavern with a drawn knife in his right hand. both started up and leant on their elbows; more than this they could not do. they felt some alarm, it is true, but both came to the same conclusion—that it is foolish to cry out before you are hurt.
the figure bent over van dyk, and whispered in his ear. next moment the hunter stood on his feet with his limbs free.
“you were right, young sir,” he said to considine as he stooped over him and cut his bonds; “there is a touch of humanity in the rascally hottentot after all. come; he bids us follow him. knows a secret passage out o’ the cave, no doubt.”
the black-bearded huntsman turned as he spoke, and followed the dim figure, which melted into the depths of the cavern as if it had been a spirit. a few minutes’ gliding through darkness tangible, and they found themselves in the open air among thick bushes. though the night was very dark there was sufficient light to enable considine to see the glittering of white teeth close to his face, as a voice whispered in broken english—“you’s better tink twice when you try for to chases tottie next time! go; van dyk, him’s old hand in de bush, will guide you safe.”
before morning considine was back in conrad marais’ parlour, relating his adventures among the bergenaars with a half-belief that the whole affair was nothing more than a romantic dream.
