Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or, Life among the KaffirsPhillips, E. W. (Emma Watts)
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Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or, Life among the Kaffirs
Phillips, E. W. (Emma Watts)
Shipwrecks -- Fiction; South Africa -- Fiction
They were of the true Kaffir type--tall, well-made, noble and graceful
in their bearing, patterns of manly beauty, save the face, and even here
the features were far superior to most of the African dark-skinned
tribes; the cheek bones were not prominent, the lips were not of the
negro class, though thicker than the European. Quickly I took this
inventory of my captors, and also perceived that my being a white man
had created no little surprise among them--they talked and jabbered
together, ever glancing at me, then turning began to march forward,
myself in the midst.
What Mr Ferguson and Jack were doing I could not tell. I certainly
could not see them, and therefore hoped, by keeping quiet in the pit,
that they had escaped detection. I did not for an instant blame them
for not having endeavoured to rescue me, for what could they have done
without arms and pitted against fifteen times their numbers. It would
have led to the massacre of three instead of one--and one, I felt
certain, unless Providence again aided me, it would be.
Rapidly we moved along towards the hill, too rapidly for my strength. I
reeled and stumbled as I went, my pain added to by the tightness of the
hide about my wrists. Each moment I felt that I should fall, for the
loss of blood was growing serious, when a Kaffir, evidently one in
authority, who was walking by my side, seemed to become aware of my
situation, for he spoke to another, who gliding swiftly off returned in
a few moments bringing the leaves of some plant, cool and fresh, which
the one who had sent him bound round my arm. After this we went on
again, I striving to look my gratitude, hoping in my heart that the
tribe into whose power I had fallen was of those friendly ones of whom
Mr Ferguson had spoken.
On reaching the crest of the hill, which I had been looking forward to
with some curiosity, I perceived in the centre of a plain similar to the
one we had just quitted, the kraal, or home of the Kaffir, which I will
here describe according to how it appeared to me, only, to give
clearness to the description, using the native terms when necessary,
though I did not learn them till afterwards.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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