The Wide World Magazine, Vol. 22, No. 129, December, 1908Various
History
The Wide World Magazine, Vol. 22, No. 129, December, 1908
Various
Adventure stories -- Periodicals; English periodicals; History, Modern -- 20th century -- Periodicals; Voyages and travels -- Periodicals
This was the worst blow of all, for Jim, though only a raw native when I
had first got him, had been with me for over five years and was deeply
attached to me. Bitterly I cursed my folly in not taking his advice,
trying to console myself with the reflection that he might somehow have
managed to reach the opposite bank, though in my inmost soul I knew this
to be almost an impossibility, as the river was full of crocodiles, who
lurked on the lower side of all the small islands, awaiting their
opportunity to rush out and seize anybody or anything that might be
carried past them by the water. The water was now going down slowly but
surely; and, as it sank, our little island grew larger and larger. It must
have been about nine o’clock when I climbed down out of the tree and
stretched my stiffened limbs once again. I called the boys down, and they
came gladly, but all the time casting anxious glances around them, fearful
of a visit from the crocodiles again. I did not apprehend much danger from
these brutes now, however, as those in the immediate vicinity would
probably have gone farther down the river after the cattle.
The morning passed slowly away and I began to feel hungry, but there was
nothing to eat. About eleven o’clock some natives came down to the
river-bank from the “staad” on the opposite side, and shouted to us to
remain where we were until the afternoon; the river, they thought, would
have gone down sufficiently by that time to enable us to make an attempt
to reach the mainland. The sun had dried the greater part of the island by
this time, and, telling one of the boys to keep a look-out, I lay down
under a tree and was soon fast asleep. I slept on until about four
o’clock, when a boy awakened me, and, glancing round, I saw that the water
had gone down enough to warrant our making an attempt to get across. The
natives who had been on the bank in the morning had meanwhile returned,
and were gesticulating and shouting to us to come away. The boys, whilst I
had been asleep, had made a long strip of “n’tambo” (rope) from the bark
of the trees, and, fastening this around my waist, I secured the others to
it, each boy being as far from the next as the length of the rope would
permit. Then, with myself leading, we started off. The current was still
very strong, and, had we not been roped together, would undoubtedly have
carried us off our feet. We could stand all right in the shallower places,
but when I came to a strip of deep water the boys let out the rope until I
had got over, then I in turn would pull them over. In this manner we
finally reached the bank and were helped out by the natives from the
“staad.” After resting a little I accompanied them to their kraal, where
my boys were fed and rested.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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