Dead Man's Land: Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain blacks and whitesFenn, George Manville
General
Dead Man's Land: Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain blacks and whites
Fenn, George Manville
Africa -- Fiction; Hunting stories; Travel -- Fiction
"Yes, not bad for you gen'lemen's supper, gen'lemen, but Tot and those
black fellows want something with more stay in it. The way in which
they can stow away food makes even me stare, and I'm not a bad fist with
the knife. You see, I have a lot to keep going; but I am nothing to one
of them. I shouldn't like to leave them in charge of the teams without
master. Why, if they could do as they liked they'd come to camp, light
a big fire, kill one of those bullocks, and sit down to cook, and never
stir again until there was nothing left but some bones for the crows to
pick. Two spans of oxen wouldn't last them so very long."
"Forty-six!" said Dean, bursting out laughing, "Oh, I say, come, Buck,
you can exaggerate!"
"Oh, that's true enough, sir. They would only want time. Hullo, you,
what's the matter? Here's old Mak seen something. Get your guns
ready."
For the black, who had formed one of the topics of conversation that
morning as he walked well ahead of the first waggon as they skirted the
edge of the forest--the waggons keeping in the open--kept on making
incursions towards where the huge trees spread their boughs, and the
country was park-like and grand. And now, to bring forth the driver's
exclamation, the keen-eyed black fellow, who had evidently caught sight
of something which had excited his interest, was running swiftly in and
out of the bushes more and more towards the great trees, in full chase,
throwing up his spear now and then as if to signal his companions to
follow.
"What is it he is after?" cried Mark.
"I dunno, sir," replied Buck, who was standing up now upon the waggon
chest and holding on to the tilt so as to follow the movements of their
guide. "It's something to eat; you may take your oath of that."
The black's movements had been noted by the doctor and Sir James, who,
double gun in hand, had been tramping slowly a little to the left of
their line of route, on the look out for anything that might be
serviceable to supply their larder, and they followed the example of the
two boys and threaded their way in amongst the low growth in answer to
the silent appeal made by their guide.
Mark was the first to see that Mak was in pursuit of a little naked
black figure that was running and doubling through the bushes like a
hare.
Its effort was evidently to find a place of concealment, for three times
over it disappeared and the boys thought it was gone; but upon each
occasion it was evident that Mak's eyes were too keen, and they saw him
approach cautiously, or creep round some clump of trees, with the result
that the little black figure started out again, and finally giving up
its efforts to conceal itself plunged right in amongst the close growing
trees of the forest which rose up beyond the low growth like a wall.
"Lost," said Mark sharply. "Mak won't be able to follow him there."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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