Life in Afrikanderland as viewed by an Afrikander: A story of life in South Africa, based on truthCIOS
History
Life in Afrikanderland as viewed by an Afrikander: A story of life in South Africa, based on truth
CIOS
Afrikaners; South Africa -- History -- Fiction
Steve now interposed, and said that they had had enough fun out of
Speelman for once. They ought to let him rest now and take breath.
The rest of the evening was spent in yarning and storytelling
generally, after which all went to bed.
CHAPTER XXXIV
STUCK IN THE MUD
The following day, Steve and his three companions had good sport
amongst the guinea-fowl and other birds.
The transport riders had left early in the morning, each with a good
load of firewood for the Pretoria market, as their month of inactivity
was at an end, and they had once more to begin work. It had been agreed
that the party with the cart should start about ten o’clock from the
night’s camping place, after having had a turn at the guinea-fowl,
etc., and as the waggons started at seven, the cart would catch up
with them somewhere about noon, when they could once more have dinner
together.
As agreed so done. Steve and his companions came speeding towards the
drift, beyond which, it had been agreed, the waggons would outspan, and
get dinner ready. As they came nearer, they heard an uproar of oxwhips
clapping, and men shouting. When they arrived on the scene they saw
that one of the waggons was _stuck_ in the drift.
All the other waggons had crossed safely, but the last one, the most
heavily laden, and having the weakest span of oxen, had sunk deep in
the mud of the drift. The water was no more than two feet deep, but the
mud was nearly as deep in itself.
The occupants of the cart saw at a glance that there was no chance
for them to pass while the waggon occupied the narrow drift. They,
therefore, left Harrison in charge of the cart, and went forward to
see how matters proceeded. They found the waggon sunk to the nave in
the mud. The oxen were panting and struggling to pull through the mud.
Their leader was pulled hither and thither as they swayed to and fro in
their efforts to pull out. The men, half naked, were struggling about
in the water, talking to the oxen, and clapping their whips. But in
vain, the waggon would not budge an inch.
The youngsters from town thought this struggling about in the water
trying to extricate a waggon stuck in the mud fine fun, so they took
off their clothes, and joined the party of transport riders in the
water.
Steve and his friends soon discovered that the pleasantest part of the
fun was to sit, perched on top of the waggon, and watch the efforts of
the others to urge the oxen forward.
There was a lull. Another span of oxen had been sent for to hook on
in front. Speelman, who had been the liveliest in his efforts to get
forward, was standing alongside of the hind oxen. He was almost naked,
having just a remnant of a shirt on. He looked like a dusky mermaid of
the waters, he moved so rapidly about; he was now under the oxen, now
right under the trek chain; he seemed to be everywhere.
‘I say, Speelman, did you see any snakes this morning?’ asked Steve.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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