The Vee-Boers: A Tale of Adventure in Southern Africa

The Vee-Boers: A Tale of Adventure in Southern Africa
Mayne Reid

Mayne Reid

The Vee-Boers: A Tale of Adventure in Southern Africa

Chapter One.

On the Karoo

A vast plain, seemingly bounded but by the horizon; treeless, save where a solitary cameel-doorn[1 - The “cameel-doorn,” literally, camel-thorn, is a species of acacia, whose tender shoots and leaves are the favourite food of the cameleopard, or giraffe. It is a common and characteristic tree in most districts of southern Africa, having pinnate leaves, and, like most of the acacia tribe, bright yellow blossoms.] spreads its feathered leaves, or a clump of arborescent aloes, mingled with rigid-stemmed euphorbias, breaks the continuity of its outline. These types of desert vegetation but proclaim its sterility, which is further evinced by tufts of whiteish withered grass, growing thinly between them.

Over it three waggons are moving; immense vehicles with bodies above four yards in length, surrounded by an arching of bamboo canes covered with canvas. To each is attached eight pairs of long-horned oxen, with a driver seated on the box, who flourishes a whip, in length like a fishing-rod; another on foot alongside, wielding the terrible jambok, while at the head of the extended team marches the “foreloper,” reim in hand, guiding the oxen along the track.

Half a score horsemen ride here and there upon the flanks, with three others in advance; and bringing up the rear is a drove of milch cows – some with calves at the foot – and a flock of fat-tailed sheep, their tails full fifty pounds in weight, and trailing on the ground.

The cows and sheep are in charge of ten or a dozen dark-skinned herdsmen, most of them all but naked; while a like number of large wolfish-looking dogs completes the list of living things visible outside the waggons. But, were the end curtains raised, under their tilts would be seen women with children – of both sexes and all ages – in each the members of a single family, its male head excepted.

Of the last there are three, corresponding to the number of the waggons, of which they are the respective proprietors – the three men riding in advance. Their names, Jan Van Dorn, Hans Blom, and Klaas Rynwald. All Dutch names, and Dutch are they who bear them, at least by descent, for the scene is Southern Africa, and they are Boers.

Not of the ordinary class, though, as may be told by their large accompaniment of unattached cattle and sheep – over a hundred of the former, and three times as many of the latter. These, with other signs well-known to South Africans, proclaim them to be Vee-Boers [2 - “Vee-boers” are distinguished from other Boers by their special employment being the grazing and raising of cattle. To this they devote themselves exclusively, as the stockmen of Australia, and the ranchmen of Western America. They have no fixed habitation, flitting about from place to place with their flocks wherever the pasture tempts them, and making house and home of their huge trek-waggons, just as the “cheap jacks” of England. They have tents also, and sometimes erect rude huts.].

They are far away from any settlement of civilised or white men, the nearest being their own frontier town, Zoutpansberg, in the Transvaal, from which they are distant full three hundred miles northward. Nor are they in Transvaalian territory, but that of the Tebelé, beyond the Limpopo river, and journeying on north.

Why they are there calls for explanation, and a word will suffice. The world has of late heard much of the Transvaal Republic and its brave people; how distasteful to them was annexation to the English Government; indeed, so repugnant, that many plucked up the rooftrees they had but lately planted, and were off again, scarce thinking or caring whither, so long as they got beyond the reach of British rule.

It is on record – a painful one – that many of those political fugitives passed through hardships scarce conceivable, and not a few perished by the way – miserably perished, the victims of fatigue, hunger, and thirst. And it is of just such a party we purpose giving account of, their journeyings, adventures, and dangers, by flood and by field.

The time was just after the annexation, and our Vee-Boers, as introduced to the reader, were weeks away from their abandoned homes in the Transvaal.

That they had permission to enter the territory of the Tebelé, might be taken for granted, otherwise they would have been on dangerous ground. For its powerful and despotic chief was not the man to allow intrusion into his dominions, even by peaceful travellers.

But they had his leave, backed by invitation, not only to pass through, but make permanent home in them, if they wished. Jan Van Dorn, the “baas” [3 - “Baas,” master. It is synonymous with the “boss” of the Southern United States, which, no doubt, was carried thither by the slave negroes who had had dealings with the Dutch of South Africa.] of the migrating party, an old jäger, had, in bygone days, hunted all over the Tebelé country, smoked the pipe of peace with Moselekatse himself, and so established a friendship still existing. In one of his expeditions he had discovered a magnificent grazing country – a very paradise for the Vee-Boer – and it was for this they were now making.

They were journeying by night, or rather early morning, before daybreak. It was not their habit to lie late; but just then they had more than one reason for being up betimes and moving. It was in the Torrid Zone, where travelling by day is oft a very torture, especially over a plain such as that they were crossing.

They had entered upon a track of karoo[4 - The “karoos” of Southern Africa may be compared with our moorlands, only more extended in area, and with a different sort of vegetation. Heaths of many beautiful species are among their characteristic plants, as all may know who take a pride in the keeping of hothouses.] , which they knew to extend for more than 100 miles; treeless, shadeless, and without water, save here and there in pools, or natural cisterns, at long distances apart. Besides, no rain had fallen on it for months, and like as not the water reservoirs would all be dried up. Not strange, then, their travelling by night, as by day; for it was life or death to them to get across the karoo.

Luckily they were favoured by moonlight, with stars in a clear, unclouded sky, which insured them against straying from the practicable route. And as their guide, a Hottentot, by name Smutz knew every inch of it, they had confidence in his piloting.

So on they moved, noiselessly, save when now and then crack of whip, the sharp snap of a jambok (Note 5), or the ejaculations of the men wielding this formidable instrument of animal torture, disturbed the stillness of the night. More rarely was it broken by the rumble of wheels, these for the most part being fellies deep in soft, yielding sand.

Chapter Two.

A Weird Spectacle

Going at a slow crawl in profound silence, the huge vehicles, with their dark bodies and white tilts, the long serried line of yoked oxen extended in advance of them, would have presented a strange mystifying spectacle to one not knowing what it was. Weird and ghostlike under the silvery light of the moon, a native of the country, where such had never been seen before, viewing it from a distance, might have imagined it some monster of a world unknown.

But before morning came, the travellers were themselves witnesses of a spectacle common enough in that same district, yet, in seeming, quite as strange and mysterious as that of the waggon-train.

Proceeding in the opposite direction, and at no great distance off, appeared a number of dark forms, one following the other in single file. Immense creatures they were; each nearly as large as any of the waggons, but, unlike these, living and breathing. For they were elephants – a troop on the march – nigh threescore in number, their line extending for hundreds and hundreds of yards across the karoo. They were passing on silent as spectres, the tread of the ponderous pachyderm being noiseless as that of a cat. Even on stony ground it is scarce distinguishable at the shortest distance, and on that sand-bestrewed plain it made not the slightest sound to betray their presence.

Adding to their spectral appearance were the long, withered grass-tufts and karoo bushes, white as if coated with hoar frost. These concealing their stride, they seemed to glide along as boats upon water, propelled by some invisible agency, acting underneath.

To the Vee-Boers, as much hunters as herdsmen, it was a tempting, tantalising sight, and under other circumstances the silence of the night would have been broken by the cracking of shots. But they knew that to attack the elephants might infuriate and bring them in charge upon the waggon-train, which would surely be its destruction. [5 - Elephants often march in single file – indeed, it is their common way – the sagacity of these animals telling them they are thus less exposed to danger. Often, too, a party of hunters, especially Vee-Boers, well acquainted with the habits of the great pachyderms, will allow them to pass unmolested, to be pursued and attacked farther on. A charge of infuriated elephants on a camp might result in its wholesale destruction.] So they resisted the temptation, and let the herd pass on; the two parties, silent and weird-like as ever, gradually widening the space between, till at length they were beyond sight of one another.

Soon after daylight declared itself; but it brought no rest to the now wearied wayfarers – not even when the sun had risen high above the horizon. For they had failed to come across any water, and halting without that were worse than keeping on. Already suffering from thirst, it would but prolong their suffering to make stop or stay.

Several of the so-called cisterns, or natural tanks, had been passed, and as many pools, but all were dry, or with only just enough moisture to keep the mud in their bottoms. Remaining by these would be rest neither to them nor the animals, now needing water as much or more than themselves.

Another element also contributed to their torture – heat. As the sun mounted higher in the firmament, this became excessive; so sultry that men and animals were perspiring at every pore; while on the ground, hot as the floor of a baker’s oven, it was painful to set foot.

The shoeless natives – Hottentots and Caffres alike – suffered especially, notwithstanding the soles of their feet being callous, and hard as horn. Some were seen to adopt a singular plan for keeping them cool – by a plaster of mud, taken from the waterless but still moist pools, applying it poultice-fashion, and at intervals damping them with the juice of the euphorbia, and other succulent plants.

Equally odd, and more amusing, was the behaviour of the dogs. They would make a rush ahead of the waggons; dive under a bush, tussock of grass, or anything giving shade; and there lie panting till the train got past. Then, rising reluctantly, they would stand for a time contemplating the heated surface of sand, afraid to set paw upon it; whine piteously; and finally, with a plunge, start off afresh, dash past the waggons, and repeat the performance as before.

Thus on over the sun-parched plain moved the party of migrant Boers; but not now silent as in the night. What with oxen bellowing, cows lowing in response to their bawling calves, sheep bleating, and dogs howling, there was noise enough, and a surfeit of it.

And mingling with these cries of distress, at intervals came the crack of a whip, loud as the report of a pistol, and the shouts of the drivers urging their oxen on.

As if to add to their difficulty, they had entered upon a tract thickly overgrown with waaght-een-beetje[6 - “Waaght-een-beetje” is the Dutch synonym for “Wait-a-bit.” The tree or bush, so quaintly designated, is another of the many species of South African acacias having spines sharp as fish-hooks and so set as to hold on whatever they have caught, requiring skill, with an expenditure of time, to get clear of them. It is the acacia detinens of the botanists.]; while those of them who were on foot, had their ankles lacerated by the “grapple-plant.” [7 - The “Grapple-plant” (uncaria procumbens) is a creeper, with beautiful purple blossoms and a fruit beset with hooked spines that readily catch on to the clothes, or even the skin. It is very troublesome to the barefooted natives who may have occasion to pass over ground where it grows.]

Retarded by these various obstructions, they made but slow progress; less than three miles an hour – the orthodox rate of speed made by South African travellers “on trek;” and it had come to be a struggle painful as it was perilous. Fearfully dispiriting too; since they knew not when or how it was to end. Their sole hope rested on a large pond or lake their guide told them of, and which he had never known to go dry. But it was still over ten miles distant, which meant at least four hours of time – an appalling prospect in their then condition; men, horses, and oxen, all athirst, all tottering in their steps. There was no help for it, no alternative, but keep on; and on they kept.

Chapter Three.

A Battue of Lions

It was well on in the afternoon when the travellers perceived a dark belt rising above the plain at a long distance off, but directly on their line of march. A glad sight to their eyes, as they could tell it to be timber, and knew they would there find the vley[8 - “Vley.” The synonym in Dutch for a lake of limited extent – a pond, or pool.] of which their guide had fore-warned them. The prospect of water, shade, and rest, all at the same time, and all so much needed, inspired them to renewed speed; and the ponderous waggons seemed to move more lightly along, while their conductors were merrier – drivers, after jambok men, and forelopers. Even the dumb animals, becoming infected with the same spirit, partook of the general rejoicing, as though they also knew that relief was near.

Yet was it far off as ever. The promise that cheered them was not to be fulfilled. On reaching the timber at the point where the vley was, or should have been, they found this too dried up, as all the others. In its bed were only pebbles and white sand, from which were reflected the rays of the setting sun, as from a sheet of frosted snow! So much for their hopes of water; and as for shade, the trees proved to be mopanes[9 - The “mopane” is a tree belonging to the family of “banhinias,” with pinnate leaves set point upwards, so that the sun glints down between, and scarce any shade is given by the tree, even when in full foliage.] whose leaves grow vertically on the branches, and, like the eucalypti of Australia, afford no more protection from the sun than would a network of wire!

Nor was this the worst. Scarce had they come to a stop by the wood’s edge, when they heard issuing out of it a noise well-known both to themselves and their animals, and by both equally dreaded. For it was the roar of the lion; not one lion, but more like a score of them, roaring together, as if each was doing its best to outroar all the rest. The place appeared to be infested with the formidable brutes – a very lair of them; and the fearful fracas they were making caused horses, oxen, cows – in short, every four-footed creature in the train to dance affrightedly about as though no longer feeling fatigue. To ordinary travellers the noise, with its attendant dangers, would have been appalling; and even among them there was momentary alarm. But they were Boers of the Transvaal, of courage proverbial and historic; still more, Vee-Boers, who are as much hunters as graziers, and little regard to the lion’s roar. It was only because of there being such a chorus of it, that they were for a time taken back.

Soon recovering themselves, however, there was a general rush towards the waggons, in which they habitually kept their roers[10 - “Roer.” The sort of gun in common use among the South African Dutch. It is a single barrel of great length and carry far.]; when, each armed himself with one of these long guns, front was made to the foe, still giving tongue, though as yet unseen.

Not for long were the lions chary about putting in an appearance. Soon their tawny skins were seen glistening among the trunks of the mopanes zigzagging from point to point, and at each slant drawing nigher to the spot where the waggons had drawn up.

It was now seen that there were quite twenty of them, or more; while the intonation of their cries – full of fury and menace – told of the intended attack. Had they made it on the moment, and simultaneously, it would have been all up with the travellers – at the very least would there have been wholesale destruction among their animals.

But, luckily for them, the lion does not always attack on the instant; more often making approach progressively, and with the caution of the common cat, as most others of the felidae. Probably had the prey they contemplated springing on been a party of naked natives, with no other defence than their skin shields, the leeuws[11 - “Leeuw.” The Boers’ name for the “king of beasts.”] would have acted differently. But seeing before them that strange array – the waggons with their white tilts, a spectacle in all likelihood new to them – it was but natural they should feel shy about beginning the assault. It could not be actual fear, a feeling unknown to the African lion, in those districts where it is unaccustomed to meet the white man, with his death-dealing weapons; more like was it mystification at sight of the huge vehicles larger than elephants, and which, for all the lions knew, might be also living things, and far more dangerous.

Whether from this, or whatever cause, the great felines hesitated to make approach, though gradually drawing nigher, as the confidence became strengthened by their receiving no hurt from the singular monsters that had intruded upon their domain.

This up to a certain moment; then they were saluted by a sound louder than that they were themselves making, as the Vee-Boers poured a volley upon them, which silenced half their number, by dropping them dead in their tracks.

The rest did not retreat, but stood their ground, to all appearance more mystified than ever. They had heard thunder, and seen lightning, but never with an accompaniment of smoke, such as they now saw, wondering what it all meant. And while still unresolved, and hesitating how to act, the thick blue mist, which for a while had screened them, drifted aside, to be replaced by another and similar screen as the reloaded raw blazed forth again.

After the second volley, only two or three live lions remained upon the ground; these seeming wounded, as they went limping off among the mopanes.