The Settler and the Savage | Page 7

region of the southern hemisphere, while the yelling cries of jackals and the funereal moaning of spotted hyenas, with an occasional distant roar from the king of beasts, formed an appropriate lullaby.
CHAPTER TWO.
INTRODUCES A CAPE DUTCHMAN AND HIS FAMILY, AND SHOWS THE UNCERTAINTY OF HUMAN PLANS.
The break of day found Charlie Considine and Hans Marais galloping lightly over the karroo towards a range of mountains which, on the previous evening, had appeared like a faint line of blue on the horizon.
The sun was just rising in a blaze of splendour, giving promise of an oppressive day, when the horsemen topped a ridge beyond which lay the primitive buildings of a frontier farm.
Considine uttered an exclamation of surprise, and looked inquiringly at his companion.
"My father's farm," said Hans, drawing rein and advancing at a foot-pace.
"A lovely spot," returned his companion, "but I cannot say much for the buildings."
"They are well suited to their purpose nevertheless," said Hans; "besides, would it be wise to build fine houses for Kafirs to burn?"
"Is being burnt by Kafirs the necessary end of all frontier farms?" asked Considine, with a smile.
"Not the necessary, but the probable end. Many a one has been burnt in times gone by, and many a one will be burnt again, if the Government and people in England do not recognise and admit the two great facts, that the interest as well as the main desire of the frontier settler is peace, while the chief delight as well as business of the Kafir is war. But I suppose that you, being an Englishman, will not believe that until conviction is forced on you by experience.--Come, I will introduce you to one of those colonists who are supposed to be such discontented fire-eaters; I think he will receive you hospitably."
The young farmer put spurs to his horse as he spoke, and dashed away over the plain, closely followed by his new friend, who was not sorry to drop the conversation, being almost entirely ignorant of the merits of the question raised.
The style of the group of buildings to which they drew near was not entirely unfamiliar to Considine, for he had passed one or two similar farms, belonging to Cape Dutchmen, on his trip from the sea-coast to the interior. There were about this farm, however, a few prominent points of difference. The cottages, being built of sun-dried bricks, were little better than mud-huts, but there were more of them than Considine had hitherto seen on such farms, and the chief dwelling, in particular, displayed some touches of taste which betokened superior refinement in the inhabitants. The group lay in a hollow on the margin of an insignificant stream, whose course through the plain was marked by a thick belt of beautiful mimosa-bushes. Close to the houses, these mimosas, large enough to merit the title of trees, formed a green setting in which the farm appeared to nestle as if desirous of escaping the sunshine. A few cactus shrubs and aloes were scattered about in rear of the principal dwelling, in the midst of which stood several mud-huts resembling gigantic bee-hives. In these dwelt some of the Hottentot and other servants of the farm, while, a little to the right of them, on a high mound, were situated the kraals or enclosures for cattle and sheep. About fifty yards farther off, a clump of tall trees indicated the position of a garden, whose fruit-trees were laden with the blossoms or beginnings of a rich crop of peaches, lemons, oranges, apricots, figs, pears, plums, apples, pomegranates, and many other fruits and vegetables. This bright and fruitful gem, in the midst of the brown and apparently barren karroo, was chiefly due to the existence of a large enclosure or dam which the thrifty farmer had constructed about half a mile from the homestead, and the clear waters of which shimmered in the centre of the picture, even when prolonged drought had quite dried up the bed of its parent stream. The peaceful beauty of the scene was completed by its grand background of blue mountains.
A tall, powerful, middle-aged man, in a coarse cloth jacket, leathern trousers or "crackers," and a broad-brimmed home-made hat, issued from the chief dwelling-house as the horsemen galloped up and drew rein. The sons of the family and a number of barking dogs also greeted them. Hans and Considine sprang to the ground, while two or three of the eleven brothers, of various ages--also in leathern crackers, but without coats or hats--came forward, kicked the dogs, and led the horses away.
"Let me introduce a stranger, father, whom I have found--lost in the karroo," said Hans.
"Welcome to Eden! Come in, come in," said Mynheer Conrad Marais heartily, as he shook his visitor by the hand.
Considine suitably acknowledged the hospitable greeting and followed