The Giraffe Hunters Part 23

The Matabili had already examined the position and appeared confident of success. They had at last brought their game to bay, and were only resting from the fatigue of the long chase before taking steps to "carry the fortress."

It was bright daylight as they advanced to the a.s.sault. Dividing themselves into two parties, they made a rush at the open s.p.a.ces by the ends of the barricade. A fierce conflict came on which lasted for some ten minutes, and at length resulted in the a.s.sailants being forced to retreat, after leaving several of their warriors dead in the gaps.

But this temporary victory was not obtained without loss. Eight of the Makololo had also fallen dead, while several others were severely wounded.

Macora's features began to a.s.sume an anxious and troubled expression.

Knowing that an enemy of superior force to his own was before him, that all means of retreat was now cut off, and that an attempt to enter the enclosure had nearly proved successful, he could not avoid feeling a gloomy foreboding for the fate of his people.

He knew too well the disposition of the Matabili to suppose that they would easily relinquish their design.

Fear of Moselekatse's displeasure on account of the losses they had already sustained, as well as the prospect of plunder, would inspire them with the determination to fight on as long as there was the slightest hope of obtaining a victory.

No a.s.sistance could be expected from other tribes of the Makololo in less than three days. Could his position be maintained for that time?

As the chief looked at the dead and wounded lying around him, this question could not be answered in a satisfactory manner. His foes were too numerous, and repeated attempts would in the end enable them to succeed.

This was the belief of the Makololo chief; and, notwithstanding his confidence in the wisdom and strategic prowess of the white hunters, he was now in a state of great anxiety.

Two hours after the attack the only Matabili in sight were those they had killed, but for all that it was well known that the survivors were not far off.

Night descended over the scene. The camp-fires of the enemy could be distinguished through the darkness; but that signified nothing.

Morning found our adventurers still undisturbed. To all appearance Moselekatse's warriors, yielding to despair, had returned to their chief, to suffer the punishment that would certainly follow from their permitting themselves to be defeated.

This was the belief of the white hunters, who now earnestly urged Macora to make no further delay, but hasten on towards his countrymen.

This advice the chief positively refused to follow. He admitted the superiority of his allies in the arts of hunting and even war, but in a knowledge of the character of Moselekatse and his warriors he knew himself to be their superior. He was now in a position where he and his people might successfully sustain themselves, and he disliked leaving it, lest they should fall into some ambuscade of the enemy. Had he not had reasons for expecting a.s.sistance, the case might have been different, but confident that aid would be immediately sent to him, he thought it better to remain where they were.

Believing that there was a possibility of the chief being in the right, Groot Willem and his companions of course consented to remain; not, however, without stipulations.

If within thirty-six hours there was no appearance of either friends or enemies, Macora promised that he would continue the march towards his country.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

NOT QUITE TOO LATE.

The stipulated time pa.s.sed, and nothing was seen of the Matabili; neither was anything known of the result of the mission of Sindo and his companions.

The young hunters were now quite certain that their enemies had relinquished the idea of conquering a band protected by the intellects and weapons of white men, and that they had returned home.

With this opinion, that of the chief did not quite coincide.

Nevertheless, according to the agreement, he commenced making preparations for departure.

The cattle were driven out of the enclosure, and again started along the track, all acting as drovers, and urging the animals onward with as much energy as if they believed that the enemy was in close pursuit. To Groot Willem and his companions there was something very inconsistent in the conduct of the Makololo.

They fought like brave men when forced to face the foe but now that no enemy was near, they exhibited every sign of cowardice!

At Willem's request, Congo asked the chief for an explanation of this unaccountable behaviour.

Macora admitted the truth of what was said, but added that his white friends would see nothing strange in it, if they were only better acquainted with the strategy of Moselekatse and his warriors.

The precaution of keeping scouts in the rear was not neglected; and, a few hours after the march had commenced, one of these brought the news that the Matabili were in pursuit.

As Macora had supposed, they had been waiting for him to forsake a position so favourable for defence.

As the white hunters had now experienced the advantage of receiving the pursuers in a fortified place, Hendrik and Arend, spurring their horses, rode some distance in advance of the herds, for the purpose of selecting a second battle-field.

In finding this, fortune refused to favour them for the second time.

The country through which they were now pa.s.sing was an open plain, presenting no natural advantages for anything but a "fair field and no favour." This was not what they required.

"We have gone far enough," said Hendrik, after galloping about a mile.

"Our friends can hardly reach this place before being overtaken. We must turn back to them."

"Of course we must," mechanically replied Arend, who was earnestly gazing across the plain.

Hendrik turned his eyes in the same direction, and to his surprise saw from twenty to thirty men coming rapidly towards them.

"We are going to be surrounded!" said Arend, as he turned his horse to retreat.

Without further speech, the two galloped back to their companions.

"Macora was right," said Hendrik, as he joined Groot Willem and Hans.

"We should not have left the place where we were able to keep these Matabili at bay. We have made a mistake."

While Macora was being informed that warriors had been seen ahead, several of the scouts driven in reported that a large body of the Matabili was rapidly approaching from the rear. For a moment Hans, Hendrik, and Arend were not quite certain that the white traders they had met the day before were much to blame for withdrawing from the scene of danger. To them life seemed of too much value to be relinquished without some powerful reason.

Hopes long and dearly cherished were now before the minds of our young adventurers. They could not avoid thinking of their own safety. But they had too much honour to think of deserting the brave Makololo, whom they themselves had been instrumental in bringing into trouble.

They all looked to Groot Willem, who would not abandon the brave chief, to whom they were so much indebted,--not even to save his own life.

They faltered no longer. Macora's fate should be theirs.

The chief was now urged to order a halt of his people; and, in compliance with the request, he gave a shout that might have been heard nearly a mile off.

It was answered by several of those in advance, who were driving the cattle; but amongst the many responsive voices was one that all recognised with a frenzied joy.

The sound of that particular voice was heard at a great distance, and only indistinctly, but on hearing it the Makololo commenced leaping about the ground like lunatics, several of them shouting, "Sindo!

Sindo!"

All hastened forward as fast as their limbs could carry them, and in a few minutes after were met by a large party of Makololo warriors, who communicated the pleasing intelligence that more were coming up close behind.

Sindo and his companions had succeeded in the accomplishment of their mission.

Ma-Mochisane, just at that crisis, chanced to be on a visit to the southern part of her dominions, and to have with her many warriors of different tribes of her people.

Macora, a friend of her childhood, was remembered. The desire of aiding him was backed by the hereditary hatred for the Matabili, and not a moment was lost in despatching a party of chosen fighting men to his a.s.sistance.