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Giraffe Hunters

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<h3>Chapter Sixty Three.</h3> <h4>“The Dutchman’s Fireside.”</h4> A few more days’ journey brought them into a neighbourhood inhabited by several Dutch “boers.” They were now travelling upon a track dignified by the name of “road,” which only benefited them so far as between the rivers it conducted them without difficulty from one crossing-place to another. For the first time in several months they saw fields under cultivation by white labour, and were able to procure a substance called “bread.” One evening, as they were preparing to encamp near the habitation of a well-to-do appearing boer, they received an invitation from the proprietor to make his house their home for the night. A heavy cold rain had been falling most part of the day, and to all appearance the weather would be no better during the night. The invitation was gladly accepted, and the travellers, grouped around the wide hearth of the boer’s kitchen fire, were enjoying that sense of happiness we all feel to a greater or less extent when perfectly secure from a storm heard raging without. The horses and cattle had been driven under large sheds. The young giraffes were secured in a place by themselves. Congo, Swartboy, and the Makololo were in a hut near by, with some Hottentot servants of the baas boer. Their host was a free-hearted, cheerful sort of fellow, only too thankful that circumstances had given him some guests to entertain him. His tobacco was of the best quality, and the supply of “Cape Smoke”—the native peach brandy—was apparently unlimited. According to his own account, he had been a great hunter during his youth; and there was nothing he liked better than to relate incidents of his own adventures in the chase, or to listen to the tales of others. The only fault he had to find with our heroes was, that they were too moderate in the use of his “Cape Smoke.” He was a convivial man,—one who knew of nothing better to do after a long day’s work than getting what is termed “jolly” in the company of friends. He did not care to imbibe alone, and he declared that nothing looked worse than that, except to see a man drinking too often in the presence of others, when they refused to do justice to his generosity. According to his own account, he had been hard at work on his farm throughout all that day, and in the rain. Why, then, should he not cheer himself after such protracted exposure? The “smoke” was the very thing to do it. His guests were welcome to the best his house could afford, and all the compensation he would ask in return for his hospitality would be the satisfaction of seeing them make themselves at home. On the part of the boer there was a strong determination to make his guests intoxicated; but this was not observed by them. They only believed that his hospitality was pushed a little too far,—so much so as to be rather annoying. But this was a fault they had observed in many, who were only trying to put on their best behaviour, and, considering its unselfishness, it could be readily excused. Notwithstanding the many hardships Groot Willem and his companions had endured in their various excursions, they had never deemed it necessary to use ardent spirits to excess; and the frequent and earnest entreaties of the boer, backed by his fat and rather good-looking “vrow,” could not induce them to depart from their usual practice of abstemiousness. The boer pretended to be sorry at his inability to entertain his youthful guests. Notwithstanding his assertions to the contrary, however, the hunters passed a long and pleasant evening by his fireside. The supper provided for them, as well as everything else, except some of their host’s hunting stories, was very good. It was so seldom that the man had an opportunity of entertaining guests, that it seemed ingratitude on their part to deprive him of the pleasure he enjoyed; and, yielding to his solicitations, they did not retire until a late hour. But there had been one chapter in the conversation of the evening to which none of our adventurers listened with much pleasure. It was a statement made by the boer, after he had partaken of several glasses of the “smoke.” “Ish ver shorry you go get the money for the two cameels,” said he. “Mine two bruders and mine vrow’s bruder stand chance to lose it now. Ish ver shorry for them, you know.” On further conversation it was discovered that his two brothers and a brother of his wife had left for the north seven months before, on a hunting excursion, their principal object being to procure the two young giraffes for which the reward of five hundred pounds had been offered. They were to visit the country of the Bakwains, and had taken with them a native servant who belonged to that tribe. Their return was hourly expected, and had been so for more than a month, though nothing had been heard of them since their departure. It was but natural that the boer should prefer that his own kinsmen might obtain the reward, instead of a party of strangers; and his having so candidly expressed his regrets in that regard was rather a circumstance in his favour. His guests ascribed it to his open, straightforward manner, made a little more free by application of the “smoke.” It was not until an old Dutch clock in a corner of the kitchen had struck two, that the young men—who pleaded their fatigue after a long day’s march—were allowed to retire to their beds. They were shown into a large room, where a good soft couch had been prepared for each of them. Their arduous journeying seemed nearly over; for they had reached a place where people slept with their faces screened from the faint light of the stars, and without depending on the nature of the earth beneath them for the quality of their couch. <hr /></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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