CHAPTER XII.

Rhy-bôk Hunting-The Boys show the White Feather-On Trek -Flogging by the Field Cornet-Wandering on the VeldtBlesse-bôk-Squareface v. Old Tom-Boer DishonestyVaal River-Coranne Shooting-Scarcity of Trees--Watches useless.

NEXT morning we were up by break of day, and while the others went to the top of the kop to have the first shot at the bôk while they were feeding, I went round to the head of a gully, through which they would probably pass when disturbed. Soon after I had taken up my position, I heard the crack of the Martini-Henry which P. carried, ring out sharp and clear in the morning air, and directly after the duller report of the carbine with which A. was armed, and then followed several shots in quick succession; but not a living thing approached the spot where I was in ambush. So after waiting until all the firing had ceased, I retired to the waggon; and soon after the others came down the hill, dragging between them a fine rhy-bôk, about the size of a donkey, and not unlike it in colour and appearance.

The Macatee boys, who were working on the farm, had been frightening our boys with stories of the fighting going on up north, and of other fighting only existing in the imagination of the Kaffirs themselves; and we could see that the boys were excited

Conversation with Josiah.

93

about something as they set round the fire in the evening. Jantze, our driver, first gave tongue to it by saying, as he brought me up a light from the embers, with a woeful expression on his decidedly good-looking face, "Zulu killing all white man."

Quite prepared for him, we replied, "No, white man killing all black man; but we not going where fighting is."

Jantze then proceeded to try and find out where we really were going; but as we did not know ourselves he obtained very little information, except that we would not take him into any danger. The boys showed very plainly that they would not willingly go with us into the locality of any of the fighting, and that not one of them would stand by, if any need of their assistance were to occur. They are nearly all cowards at heart.

Josiah, the other driver, asked me one day to give him a gun, and let him go out and shoot a bôk if he could. I told him to wait a bit, and I would give him one later on.

"

"But when is that to be?"

After we are passed Pretoria."

"Oh no; after Pretoria beasts bite. No good sending me to shoot beasts that bite. I run away. I no go to them. I shoot bôk so (cluck), but I no to go shoot beasts that bite."

That is the character of nearly all the Kaffirs except the Zulu or Amaswazi warriors. They delight in slaughter when there is no danger attached; but they are anything but brave when risk attends their blood-thirsty enterprises.

Next day (Tuesday) we were more lucky with the bôk, and managed to bring three to the bag. P. especially distinguished himself by slaying a couple to his own rifle; but rhy-bôk are stupid beasts, and not worth eating when shot. The buck has rather pretty thin straight horns about a foot long, but the doe has none at all. The skins of neither are worth keeping.

It was now time for us to continue our journey, so on Wednesday morning we inspanned the oxen, all the better for their three days' rest and feeding on good grass. We said good-bye with regret to Leuw Kop and its hospitable manager. On our first trek we met the field cornet, who combines in one the offices of magistrate, sheriff, chief constable, arbitrator, and executioner. He was on his way to a neighbouring farm, where he had been summoned to punish a boy who had been insolent to his master; for even in the Free State indiscriminate flogging is not allowed. When a boy proves insubordinate, steals, or otherwise misconducts himself, his master sends over for the field cornet, and lays the case before him, then the boy is allowed to urge any plea he may in his defence, or in mitigation of the penalty. If he is found guilty, the cornet has the option of inflicting either a fine, or corporal punishment. As a rule the latter is given, and the sentence carried out summarily. The boy is tied up to a waggon-wheel; if he has a coat on it is stripped off, and he receives twelve cuts laid on with strong and willing arms. If the cornet cannot come himself, he sends one of his deputies, whose power is

limited to half-a-dozen lashes; but if a few extra are given, it would be impossible for the culprit to obtain any redress, for probably he cannot count himself, and even if he could the means of redress would be out of his reach, even if they exist at all.

Our wanderings on the day of leaving Leuw Kop will serve as a good example of the indefinite directions, and ideas as to time and distance, which one has to contend against throughout South Africa. Our friend at the farm had advised us to outspan for the night, at a store lately built close by the main road to the drift, where we had determined to cross the River Vaal into the Transvaal. He closed his directions with, "Keep to this footpath and two treks will take you to it, as it is only two-and-a-half hours on horseback."* After twoand-a-half hours good treking, we outspanned for lunch beside a Kaffir krall, where we tasted Kaffir beer for the first time. It has anything but an inviting appearance, in colour a pale pink, and very thick. It is made of Kaffir corn fermented with various herbs, and has a sour taste; in hot weather I scarcely know a more refreshing and invigorating drink; but it is very liable to make a man ill who, not being used to it, indulges in a large quantity. As the path here diverged to the right and left we asked the way from the Kaffirs who had sold us the beer. "Straight over the hill" was all we could gather from them; but as both paths went over a hill, it did not convey much information to us;

* This in miles was about equal to fifteen.

but on application at the krall itself, we were directed to the left-hand track. On the top of the hill our path branched off into half-a-dozen smaller ones. While we were puzzling over them, three mounted Kaffirs, riding back from their work at the farm, came up, and again pointed out our direction, and volunteered the information that the store was still two long treks ahead-equal to twenty miles. We kept on until the darkness warned us to outspan for the night, unless we wished to find next morning that we had wandered uselessly on the open veldt; and as there was no water, horses, oxen, and men, had to go to bed thirsty. At the earliest streak of light we were again on the road, but had a long six miles trek before we came to water, and very glad we were to see it, for we had drunk nothing for eighteen hours.

At our halting-place was a small farm, and the farmer, a Boer, assured us that Cooper's store was now only two miles away; but to our disgust it took us a full three-hours' treking, at three miles an hour, before we at last reached it. There is absolutely no reliance to be placed on distances as computed by either Dutchmen or Kaffirs; for one man reckons the distance by the time he takes riding, reckoning six miles an hour, and another takes his estimate from his ox-waggon at three miles; and another one confuses the two reckonings, and gives the hours by horse instead of by waggon, and vice versa.

A Dutchman often has the same indefinite idea as to spelling his own name, and will reply, in answer to "How do you spell it ?”—