The Golden Rock Part 38

They piled fresh wood on the fires, then mounted to the waggon-box, and tried the range of the light over the oxen. At the radiance they turned their heads, and their large eyes shone reflected. Webster pushed back the slide, and they sat waiting--the one with his finger on the trigger of his Express, and the other with the lantern, which sent up a steaming vapour into his face, and a faint reflection s.h.i.+ning upon his gleaming eyes.

Presently, just beyond the fence on the right, there broke out a booming roar that made the air vibrate, and brought the oxen to their feet. It died away in a hollow growl, and was repeated again and again from different quarters. The oxen bunched together, and Miss Anstrade knocked against the tent, while Hume called out from his lair beneath the waggon.

"It's all right," said Webster, "the fires are burning, and we are prepared."

Hume crept out, and finding that the back of the waggon was unprotected, he hung a lantern there, and then went back to his couch, with the muzzle of his rifle pointing into the light thus thrown.

Klaas called out to his oxen by name to soothe them, and at the sound of his voice the two great red-and-white wheelers laid down with a grunt.

For a time there was a spell of stillness, more disquieting than the terrific chorus that had awakened far-off echoes from every roving troop of jackals.

"De leeuw talk now," whispered Klaas.

"Talk--what about?"

"They tell what they do. The young ones wait over there and shout; the old man creep round on this side, say nothing, and jump over."

"And you think they are settling that plan now?"

"Yoh, sieur; they make plan, bymby begin work. See, there!"

A second burst of roaring made the ground tremble, and the movement and the vibration in the air seemed to communicate more quickly the terror in the sound. It swelled and fell, and rose again, and at each pause the after-growl came in more threatening and ferocious.

"There, baas," said the Gaika, in a thrilling whisper, dropping his long hand in a fierce grasp on Webster's arm.

"What?" asked Webster, raising his rifle, and looking eagerly to the left.

"He jumped just now. Is the baas ready?"

"Yes."

The slide was opened, and the brilliant light, released, shot out into the darkness beyond the fires, and, under the steady hand of the Gaika, swept along the fence, throwing out the white scars on the broken branches. It crept back again, and the two men, with eager eyes and every nerve alert, followed the beam for sign of the fierce visitor.

Three times the light swept over the ground, and Webster levelled his rifle; but just then the lamp was held still and the Kaffir made a slight noise, while his breathing became quicker.

Webster followed the light in vain.

"What is it?" he whispered.

"Skit, baas, skit!" said the Kaffir.

"I can see nothing."

"There, there, sieur!" pointing with his a.s.segai.

Suddenly out of the path of the light, near the ground, and apparently detached from any object, glared two b.a.l.l.s of yellow fire, and at the same time came a low growl.

Guided now by these two luminous...o...b.., Webster saw a faint outline on the yellow ground.

The Kaffir clicked with his tongue impatiently.

Webster sighted between the eyes and fired.

Upon the report there followed a savage roar, and the next moment the waggon shook to the thud of some great body hurled against it.

There was a shriek from the waggon, then a m.u.f.fled report.

"What is it?" shouted Hume, as he crept out from under the waggon. He caught the lantern and rushed round, just as Webster had slipped another cartridge into his rifle. The uproar was terrific. The oxen bellowed as they strained at their rheims, the lions beyond the fence roared, and from beside the waggon there rose a series of blood-curdling growls and coughs. Both guns flashed out together and the a.s.sailant laid stretched out. It was a huge yellow-maned lion, still gasping. The Kaffir drove his a.s.segai into the heaving body, and then both Hume and Webster rushed to the waggon.

"Are you all right?" they cried.

She drew the canvas flap on one side and looked out, with her hair falling forward in heavy coils.

"What was it?" she asked.

"A wounded lion sprang upon the waggon tent."

"Is anyone hurt?"

"No; but the lion is dead."

"I thought something dreadful had happened, and fired as much from terror as anything."

Hume rolled the great body over and examined it.

"Your bullet went home, at any rate, Miss Laura, and you have killed your first lion."

"Let me see." She drew her wraps about her, and was about to descend, when, with a shudder and a nervous laugh, she crept back, dismayed by the darkness.

The three men now walked round the enclosure, fired a couple of chance shots, restarted the fires, and returned to their posts. The uproar had subsided, and was succeeded by another spell of oppressive silence, broken at lessening intervals by a vague sound, which grew in volume, but not in distinctness, and before which the other sounds did not revive. As it grew louder it took on a rhythmical beat not unpleasant.

"It sounds like a human voice," said Webster.

"Yes, it is a black man chanting, eh, Klaas?"

"Eweh, inkose, he sings as he walks;" and so speaking, the Kaffir stretched himself by the fire and drew his blanket over his head.

"He evidently fears no danger," remarked Webster.

"I don't know," said Hume, and stirred the Gaika; "what manner of man can this be who walks abroad in the night, making sign of his presence to the lions?"

"It is the wizard," replied the Gaika solemnly, "and it is not well to look on him. Even the beasts quit his path;" and once again he pulled the blanket over his head.

The man approached rapidly, and now the deep chest notes rolling forth in a rough melody took shape from the mighty volume of sound, and now he was at the fence; and now, with a cry of "Layate," he leaped the thorns--a wonderful bound--and still chanting, he came up to the waggon, paused a moment at the body of the lion, then stepped to the fire, and stood there with the glow upon his tall form and in his smouldering eyes. A black man he was, of gigantic mould, with a tiger skin knotted by the fore-paws round his neck, and with a ma.s.s of bone necklets that clattered at every movement. On his forehead was a large ball of hair, behind which rose two eagle's feathers, and he carried a bundle of sticks and a.s.segais, while from his shoulder hung a large skin bag.

"Who are you, and what is your business?" asked Hume, after looking intently at the stranger.

The man shook his head, and his wild, roving eyes, s.h.i.+fting uneasily like those of an animal, glanced from object to object, dwelling at last upon the rolled-up figure of Klaas. Him, presently, he prodded with the b.u.t.t of an a.s.segai, and grinned till his white teeth gleamed.

"Stand up, Klaas," said Hume sternly, and the Gaika, with a sullen look, rose, and gradually raised his eyes from the feet to the dreaded face.