The Gold Kloof. H. A. Bryden

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СКАЧАТЬ go with you, we might kill two birds with one stone: go round by sea, and so save much time; and after we have had a hunt for the treasure, pick up a lot of cattle and bring them overland. Meanwhile I'll have a talk with your aunt, and hear what she thinks about it all."

      Mrs. Blakeney was a great believer in her brother; and her vote went for the expedition, little as she liked the prospect of parting from her husband for five or six months. Finally Mr. Blakeney's mind was made up: he determined to go, at all events, as far as Mossamedes. If Poeskop were found, well and good: they would go on with the search. If he were not found, they would go south, buy cattle in Damaraland and Ovampoland, and take them across to Bechuanaland by the Trek Boer route, viâ Lake Ngami. No sooner was the expedition settled upon than Guy begged his uncle to let Tom accompany them. This Mr. Blakeney refused; Tom, he said, must remain at home to look after his mother and sisters. But, as the lads pointed out, Mr. Blakeney's partner and cousin, George Forster, was coming across to live at Bamborough and take up the management of affairs during his absence. For weeks the lads moved heaven and earth to accomplish their purpose. They at length won over Mrs. Blakeney; and after she had joined for a few days in the siege, Mr. Blakeney gave way. It was settled that Tom was to go, and the two cousins were overjoyed. After much consideration, Mr. Blakeney decided not to take a mining engineer, as suggested by his brother-in-law. He himself had spent two years on the Lydenburg goldfields, in the Eastern Transvaal, in his younger days, and had a fair knowledge of gold and gold formations; he had learned assaying also. On the whole, they all deemed it wiser not to impart the secret to any one out of their own family.

      Towards the middle of May the party went down by rail to Cape Town, and thence by sea to Mossamedes. Ostensibly they were on a cattle-trading expedition; even George Forster was not let into the secret of the gold search. It would be too ridiculous if the quest turned out an unsuccessful one, and the gold vanished into thin air. Moreover, Mr. Blakeney deemed it unwise to make any mention of gold at all; the merest whisper of it might get about, and set others upon the alert. They kept the secret, therefore, severely to themselves. In pursuance of his expressed intention of bringing home some cattle, Mr. Blakeney took with him as wagon-drivers and herds four of his most reliable natives. These were-Jan Kokerboom, a Koranna; Seleti and Mangwalaan, two Bechuanas of the Barolong clan; and September, a Zulu. They were all good herdsmen and horse-masters, fair shots, and, barring various idiosyncrasies and prejudices peculiar to their tribes, steady and reliable men. Jan Kokerboom was a capital cook, a generally handy man, a good rider and shot, and a first-class hunter. After a fairly prosperous voyage of a week, during the early part of which the natives suffered a good deal from sea-sickness, the ship dropped anchor in Little Fish Bay, off Mossamedes, and the party landed. Their hunting ponies, four in all, which they had brought with them from Bamborough, were safely got ashore.

      Mossamedes is, compared with other Portuguese towns on the African coast, rather a pleasant little place. It is built of white stone, and has a picturesque esplanade, lined with palm trees, running along the frontage to the bay. The country surrounding is not very inviting, that to the east and south being, like the littoral of Damaraland and Namaqualand, almost completely desert.

      Having passed their baggage at the Custom House with somewhat greater ease than they expected-thanks mainly to a judicious use by Mr. Blakeney of palm oil-they went up the town, and found fairly comfortable quarters at the principal hotel. Here they remained for a week without being able to find any trace of the native known as Poeskop. At the hotel, the proprietor remembered Mr. Hardcastle, who had stayed with him. He remembered also his Bushman servant Poeskop, but neither he nor any of his people had seen him lately in the town. While they were thus waiting, Mr. Blakeney was by no means idle. He spoke with various Trek Boers who were in the place; bought an excellent tent-wagon for £80; four fairly good horses, wiry, but in low condition-a useful addition to their stud; and a span of serviceable oxen. These would in any case be necessary to them, even if Poeskop failed to put in an appearance. The native servants were then dispatched to the commonage outside the town, where a camp was formed, and the horses and cattle were turned out for grazing. The wagon was thoroughly cleaned out, repaired, and painted, and various cooking utensils necessary for the trek were purchased.

      On the evening of the seventh day of their stay in Mossamedes the little party of English were sitting, half an hour before dinner, near the landing-place. Mr. Blakeney spent much time there; for he had an idea that if the Bushman, Poeskop, came to Mossamedes at all, he would make his way to the shore, and be on the lookout for his old master.

      "Pater," said Tom, kicking his heels against the low wall on which he sat, "I begin to think the man Poeskop is a solar myth, and I am revolving in my mind a theory by which he can be explained away."

      The lad had a roguish smile on his face, at which his father in turn could not help laughing.

      "Well, fire away!" replied Mr. Blakeney. "What's your theory?"

      "Well, I'll shortly explain," went on Tom. "I consider you and Guy have brought me out here under false pretences. The whole thing is a Barney. I've been thinking it all out for days past. Poeskop is clearly a non-existent person; and here is my theory of his non-existence!"

      At this instant, from behind a great pile of stores which lay stacked on the landing-place, there appeared, just in front of them, the short figure of a native. He was a queer, dwarfish-looking little man, with high cheek-bones, a narrow chin, and yellowish skin. His eyes slanted upwards like a Chinaman's; curious, dark, bloodshot eyes they were, with a singular droop of the lids and innumerable wrinkles at the corners. This odd figure was dressed in an old store suit of faded moleskin, a ragged shirt, and a very battered, broad-brimmed hat. A pair of velschoens covered the man's feet. Before Tom, who stared open-mouthed at the apparition, could proceed with his theory, the little man's sharp eyes had run rapidly over the group before him. He looked, as it were expectantly, into the countenance of each. His eyes lingered longest on the face of Guy, and then fell instantly to the middle of the boy's waist. Stretching out his right forefinger, he pointed, with a gesture of strange energy and earnestness, at the watch-chain which Guy wore: it was his father's, and the green jade ornament depended from it.

      Mr. Blakeney had watched the man keenly.

      "Poeskop?" he said quietly.

      "Ja; Poeskop," returned the native instantly, looking furtively about him. "Vaar is de baas-Baas Hartcassel?"

      Mr. Blakeney could not refrain from his little triumph over Tom, who sat utterly confounded.

      "Tom, my boy!" he said, with a hearty laugh, "your solar myth is instantly exploded. Here is the essential man, Poeskop himself!"

      And indeed it was Poeskop. Speaking in Dutch, Mr. Blakeney explained to the strange little figure before them what had happened. The Bushman followed the story closely, nodding his head, and throwing in a "Ja, ja!" now and again, as it were rounding off the various points. When Mr. Blakeney ceased, he spoke.

      "Ja," he said, "I am Poeskop. I came here to meet my Baas Hartcassel, and I am sad because of the news I hear. Never mind; if I cannot be his 'boy' longer, I will be his son's 'boy.' And I will tell you all I know, and take you to the place where-" [here he glanced suspiciously round him, with eyes that searched keenly beneath their droop] " – where my baas wanted me to take him. I see that the young baas is truly the son of my old baas: he has the same blue eyes, and the same look, and the same coloured hair, and though he is young he walks just as walked his father. I saw him yesterday, and watched him; and again to-day I watched him; and now I have seen the steenje-the little stone of the fish-and I am sure. Well, I am glad indeed. I will be the young baas's 'boy,' and wait upon him and hunt for him, as I did for his father. Is it not so?" he asked, looking inquiringly first at Mr. Blakeney, then at Guy.

      "Yes," said Guy quickly, his colour heightened with the interest and excitement of the discovery; "it is so. You shall be my 'boy,' and I will be your baas, and try to be a good baas to you, as my father was. What wages did he give you?"

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