Swallow: A Tale of the Great TrekHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Swallow: A Tale of the Great Trek
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Historical fiction; South Africa -- History -- Great Trek, 1836-1840 -- Fiction; Transvaal (South Africa) -- Fiction
“Sihamba!” he groaned. “What can one woman do against Piet Van Vooren
and his murderers, and for the rest they will be too late. Oh! my God,
my God, what have we done that such a thing should fall upon us? Think
of it, think of her in the hands of Piet Van Vooren. Oh! my God, my
God, I shall go mad!”
Indeed I, who watched him, believe that this would have been so, or
else his brain must have burst beneath its shock of sorrow, had not
nature been kind to him and plunged him back into stupor. In this he
lay long, until well on into the morrow indeed, or rather the day, for
by now it was three o’clock, when the doctor came to take out the
pistol ball and set his shattered bone. For, as it chanced, a doctor,
and a clever one, had been sent for from the dorp to visit the wife of
a neighbour who lay sick not more than twenty miles away, and we were
able to summon him. Indeed but for this man’s skill, the sleeping
medicines he gave him to quiet his mind, and, above all, a certain
special mercy which shall be told of in its place, I think that Ralph
would have died. As it was, seven long weeks went by before he could
sit upon a horse.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE HIDDEN KRANTZ
Before the waggon left her, Sihamba took from it Ralph’s gun, a very
good _roer_, together with powder and bullets. Also she took tinder, a
bottle of peach-brandy, a blanket, mealies in a small bag, wherewith to
bait the horses in case of need, and some other things which she
thought might be necessary. These she laded among her own goods upon
the mule that with her horse had been fetched by Zinti and hastily fed
with corn. Now, at her bidding, Zinti set Suzanne’s saddle upon the
back of the _schimmel_, and Ralph’s on that of Suzanne’s grey mare,
which he mounted that the mule might travel lighter. Then Sihamba got
upon her own horse, a good and quiet beast which she rode with a
sheepskin for a saddle, and they started, Sihamba leading the
_schimmel_ and Zinti the mule that, as it chanced, although bad
tempered, would follow well on a riem.
Riding up the kloof they soon reached the spot where Van Vooren’s band
had tethered their horses and tracked the spoor of them with ease for
so long as the ground was soft. Afterwards when they reached the open
country, where the grass had been burnt off and had only just begun to
spring again, this became more difficult, and at length, in that light,
impossible. Here they wasted a long time, searching for the hoof-marks
by the rays of the waning moon, only to lose them again so soon as they
were found.
“At this pace we shall take as long to reach Bull-Head’s kraal as did
the cow you followed,” said Sihamba presently. “Say, now, can you find
the way to it?”
“Without a doubt, lady; Zinti never forgets a road or a landmark.”
“Then lead me there as fast as may be.”
“Yes, lady, but Bull-Head may have taken the Swallow somewhere else,
and if we do not follow his spoor how shall we know where he has hidden
her?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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