Adventure stories; Clergy -- Fiction; Scots -- South Africa -- Fiction; South Africa -- Fiction; Zulu (African people) -- Fiction
Arcoll received my message from Umvelos’ by Colin, or rather Wardlaw
received it and sent it on to the post on the Berg where the leader had
gone. Close on its heels came the message from Henriques by a Shangaan
in his pay. It must have been sent off before the Portugoose got to the
Rooirand, from which it would appear that he had his own men in the
bush near the store, and that I was lucky to get off as I did. Arcoll
might have disregarded Henriques’ news as a trap if it had come alone,
but my corroboration impressed and perplexed him. He began to credit
the Portugoose with treachery, but he had no inclination to act on his
message, since it conflicted with his plans. He knew that Laputa must
come into the Berg sooner or later, and he had resolved that his
strategy must be to await him there. But there was the question of my
life. He had every reason to believe that I was in the greatest danger,
and he felt a certain responsibility for my fate. With the few men at
his disposal he could not hope to hold up the great Kaffir army, but
there was a chance that he might by a bold stand effect my rescue.
Henriques had told him of the vow, and had told him that Laputa would
ride in the centre of the force. A body of men well posted at Dupree’s
Drift might split the army at the crossing, and under cover of the fire
I might swim the river and join my friends. Still relying on the vow,
it might be possible for well-mounted men to evade capture. Accordingly
he called for volunteers, and sent off one of his Kaffirs to warn me of
his design. He led his men in person, and of his doings the reader
already knows the tale. But though the crossing was flung into
confusion, and the rear of the army was compelled to follow the
northerly bank of the Letaba, there was no sign of me anywhere. Arcoll
searched the river-banks, and crossed the drift to where the old Keeper
was lying dead. He then concluded that I had been murdered early in the
march, and his Kaffir, who might have given him news of me, was carried
up the stream in the tide of the disorderly army. Therefore, he and his
men rode back with all haste to the Berg by way of Main Drift, and
reached Bruderstroom before Laputa had crossed the highway.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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