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Dead Man's Land: Being the Voyage to Zimbambangwe of certain and uncertain, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 17. A Deed Of Mercy |
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_ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. A DEED OF MERCY "Come, I call this good luck," cried the big driver, as, following the black foreloper and with the Hottentot behind, the long line of bullocks two and two came placidly into sight, looking none the worse for the night attack, and in no wise troubled for the loss of two of their brethren. "Luck!" cried Mark. "It's glorious! I shall be glad when father knows." "Ah, we will soon let him know," said Buck good-humouredly; "leastways, as soon as I can; but it takes longer to inspan than it does to fill one's pipe. But poor old Peter won't hurt much. He's a bit sore, of course. A span of bullocks arn't a nice thing to dance over a fellow, even if he is by natur' like a bit of Indy-rubber. I say--now you listen." For as the little Hottentot came into sight Buck hailed him with some incomprehensible question, the response to which was that he and the foreloper had climbed a big tree that was close to the first waggon. "There, what did I tell you?" said the big fellow, with a chuckle, as he interpreted the Hottentot's reply. "My chaps know how to take care of theirselves when them great cats are on the way. Here, you have it out with old Dunn Brown." "Yes," cried Mark eagerly. "Here, Brown," cried the boy, "what did you do when you heard the lions?" "Do?" said the man, rather piteously. "Cut 'em loose--ran--whistled." "Bravo!" cried Dean, joining with his cousin in a merry laugh. "We all ran," sighed their queer follower. "None scratched." "Hurry on," shouted Buck to his men; but the bullocks kept to their slow, deliberate trudge, munching away at the store of fresh green grass that had been collecting since their escape. "Perhaps you young gents," continued Buck, "would like to mount two of the ponies and canter back with the news." "No saddles or bridles," said Mark. "Tchah! You don't want saddles or bridles. Those little beggars will go which way you like with a touch of the hand; and I am not going to believe that you can't get along barebacked. Not me!" "Oh, I daresay we could manage," said Mark; "but our orders were to see the bullocks inspanned and go back with them." "Can't you trust me?" growled Buck. "Trust you! Of course!" cried Mark, laying his hand on the big fellow's shoulder. "I'd trust you anywhere, but--" "Here, I know," said the driver good-humouredly. "Good boy! Always obey orders." But all the same the deliberate crawl of the bullocks made both the lads terribly impatient. "I wish you had got your whip, Buck," said Dean. "Oh, I don't know, sir. Let 'em alone. It's their way. They are going willing enough, and they have had a nasty night. I never give them a touch up only when I see one lazy and won't pull. Then it's crick crack, and I let go at a fly on his back." At last, though, the span belonging to the second waggon had taken their places, and Dunn Brown was at the front waiting for the sonorous "Trek!" which Buck Denham roared out, accompanied by a rifle-like report of his tremendous whip, when Dunn threw up his hands, stepped right before the team, and stopped them. "What game do you call that?" roared Buck, from where he was seated on the waggon chest. "Too--late," sighed the white foreloper, and he drew out his scissors to begin his morning apology for a shave. "Can't you see, Buck?" cried Mark. "Come along, Dean. Just think of that!" For, slowly trudging along, Bob Bacon appeared, bending low under his burden, giving his fellow-keeper a comfortable pick-a-back, having carried him all the way from where he had been found lying helpless, and apparently now not much the worse for his novel ride. "Bravo, Bob!" cried Mark, as he and his cousin ran up to meet them. "Why, you haven't carried Peter all this way?" "Phew! Arn't it hot, sir! Not carried him? Well, what do you call this?" "How are you, Peter?" asked Dean. "Very bad, sir." "Oh, don't say very," cried Mark. "You will be better when you have had some breakfast." "Hope so, sir," said the man, with a groan; and he was carefully carried to the first waggon, in front of which Dan had already begun to busy himself raking the fire together and getting water on to boil, while as soon as the doctor had seen to his patient and had had him laid upon a blanket, he joined Sir James and the boys to look round while breakfast was being prepared, and examine the traces of the night's encounter. There lay one huge lion, stretched out and stiffening fast, showing the blood-stained marks of its wound, and a short distance beyond were the torn and horribly mutilated bodies of two of the bullocks, not very far apart, one of them quite dead, the other gazing up appealingly in the faces of those who approached him, and ready to salute them with a piteous bellow. "Poor brute," said the doctor, taking a revolver from his belt, and walking close up to the wounded bullock, he placed the muzzle right in the centre of its forehead as the poor beast raised its head feebly, and fired. "Oh!" ejaculated the boys, as if with one breath, and while the poor animal's head was beginning to subside back to the blood-stained grass upon which it had lain the doctor fired again, and the mutilated animal sank back motionless with a deep, heavy sigh. "An act of mercy," said the doctor quietly. "Yes," said Sir James gravely. "It seems cruel, boys, but it would have been far worse to have left him there to be tortured by the flies and attacked by vultures and hyaenas." By this time Buck Denham had come up, and while the two boys were still mentally hesitating as to the mercy of the act, which seemed terribly repellent, he said, "That's right, boss. I just ketched sight of a couple of those owry birds coming along, and if it hadn't been for the trees they would have been at work before now. I'd bet a pipe of tobacco that a pack of those laughing beauties the hyaenas are following the crows and will be hard at work as soon as we are on the trek." Farther in the forest Mak soon found the body of the other lion, which had left its trail as it crawled away to die; but it was still warm, and had hardly had time to stiffen, looking still so life-like with its unglazed eyes that it was approached rather nervously, every rifle in the party being directed at the huge brute. But no trigger was drawn, for proof was given at once of its power to do mischief having lapsed by the action of the black, who leaped upon it with a shout and indulged himself with a sort of dance of triumph. "Here, you come off," cried Buck. "Spoor. Spoor." The black nodded, and stooping low he began to quarter the ground and point out footprint after footprint, till the driver gave it as his opinion that they had been attacked by quite a large party of the savage beasts. "You see, gen'lemen, there's the big pads and some about half the size. I should say that there was a couple of families been scenting my bullocks. Seems to me like two lionesses and their half-grown cubs." "But the two big lions?" said Mark eagerly. "Oh, I wasn't counting them in, sir," said Buck. "We have shot them and the she's, and the young 'uns have got away, and like enough one or two of them has carried bullets with them." "But do you think they are near?" asked Dean. "Maybe yes, sir; maybe no; but I should say it would be just as well to start as soon as we have had braxfas' and get as far on as we can before night." Just then there was a hail from the waggons in Dan's familiar tones, to announce breakfast, and soon after its hasty despatch the blacks were at work skinning the lions, aided by Dunn Brown, while Buck Denham, with the assistance of Dan and Bob Bacon, had a busy time in securing some of the choicest portions of the bullock that had been shot, the doctor superintending. Later on, before they started, the Hottentot and the two blacks were allowed to cut off as many strips of the beef as they pleased, to hang on the first waggon for drying in the sun. _ |
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