Jock of the Bushveld

He spoke to the after-ox by name as he passed; called to another, and touched it into place; thrust his way between the next one and the dazed white man standing near it, tossing him aside with a brush of his arm, as a ploughshare spurns a sod; and then they saw how the boy’s madness had taken him. His work and his span had called to him in his delirium; and he had answered. With low mutterings, short words hissed out, and all the sounds and terms the cattle knew shot at them – low-pitched and with intense repression – he ran along the span, crouching low all the time like a savage stealing up for murderous attack.

The two white men stood back and watched.

Reaching the front oxen, he grasped the leading reim and pulled them round until they stood level for the straight pull out; then down the other side of the span he ran with cat-like tread and activity, talking to each and straightening them up as he had done with the others; and when he reached the waggon again, he turned sharply and overlooked the span. One ox had swung round and stood out of line; there was a pause of seconds, and then the big Zulu called to the ox by name – not loudly but in a deep low tone, husky with intensity – and the animal swung back into line again.

Then out of the silence that followed came an electrifying yell to the span: every bullock leaned to its yoke, and the waggon went out with a rush.

And he drove them at a half-trot all the way to the store: without water; without help; without consciousness; the little dry twig still in his hand, and only his masterful intensity and knowledge of his work and span to see him through.

“A mad troublesome savage,” said Harry Williams, “but one of the very best. Anyhow, we thought so; he saved us!”

There was something very familiar in this, and it was with a queer feeling of pride and excitement that I asked:

“Did he ever say to you ‘My catchum lion ’live’?”

“By gum! You know him? Jim: Jim Makokel’!”

“Indeed I do. Good old Jim!”

Years afterwards Jim was still a driver, working when necessary, fighting when possible, and enjoying intervals of lordly ease at his kraal where the wives and cattle stayed and prospered.

Chapter Twenty Seven.

His Duty

And Jock?

But I never saw my dog again. For a year or so he lived something of the old veld life, trekking and hunting; from time to time I heard of him from Ted and others: stories seemed to gather easily about him as they do about certain people, and many knew Jock and were glad to bring news of him. The things they thought wonderful and admirable made pleasant news for them to tell and welcome news to me, and they were heard with contented pride, but without surprise, as “just like him”: there was nothing more to be said.

One day I received word from Ted that he was off to Scotland for a few months and had left Jock with another old friend, Tom Barnett – Tom, at whose store under the Big Fig Tree, Seedling lies buried; and although I was glad that he had been left with a good friend like Tom, who would care for him as well as any one could, the life there was not of the kind to suit him. For a few months it would not matter; but I had no idea of letting him end his days as a watch-dog at a trader’s store in the kaffir country. Tom’s trouble was with thieves; for the natives about there were not a good lot, and their dogs were worse. When Jock saw or scented them, they had the poorest sort of luck or chance: he fought to kill, and not as town dogs fight; he had learnt his work in a hard school, and he never stopped or slackened until the work was done; so his fame soon spread and it brought Tom more peace than he had enjoyed for many a day. Natives no longer wandered at will into the reed-enclosed yard; kaffir dogs ceased to sneak into the store and through the house, stealing everything they could get. Jock took up his place at the door, and hungry mongrels watched him from a distance or sneaked up a little closer when from time to time he trotted round to the yard at the back of the building to see how things were going there.

All that was well enough during the day; but the trouble occurred at night. The kaffirs were too scared to risk being caught by him, but the dogs from the surrounding kraals prowled about after dark, scavenging and thieving where they could; and what angered Tom most of all was the killing of his fowls. The yard at the back of the store was enclosed by a fence of close-packed reeds, and in the middle of the yard stood the fowl-house with a clear space of bare ground all round it. On many occasions kaffir dogs had found their way through the reed fence and killed fowls perching about the yard, and several times they had burgled the fowl-house itself. In spite of Jock’s presence and reputation, this night robbing still continued, for while he slept peacefully in front of the store, the robbers would do their work at the back. Poor old fellow! They were many and he was one; they prowled night and day, and he had to sleep sometimes; they were watchful and he was deaf; so he had no chance at all unless he saw or scented them.

There were two small windows looking out on to the yard, but no door in the back of the building; thus, in order to get into the yard, it was necessary to go out of the front door and round the side of the house. On many occasions Tom, roused by the screaming of the fowls, had seized his gun and run round to get a shot at the thieves; but the time so lost was enough for a kaffir dog, and the noise made in opening the reed gate gave ample warning of his coming.

The result was that Tom generally had all his trouble for nothing; but it was not always so. Several times he roused Jock as he ran out, and invariably got some satisfaction out of what followed; once Jock caught one of the thieves struggling to force a way through the fence and held on to the hind leg until Tom came up with the gun; on other occasions he had caught them in the yard; on others, again, he had run them down in the bush and finished it off there without help or hindrance.

That was the kind of life to which Jock seemed to have settled down.

He was then in the very prime of life, and I still hoped to get him back to me some day to a home where he would end his days in peace. Yet it seemed impossible to picture him in a life of ease and idleness – a watch-dog in a house sleeping away his life on a mat, his only excitement keeping off strange kaffirs and stray dogs, or burrowing for rats and moles in a garden, with old age, deafness, and infirmities growing year by year to make his end miserable. I had often thought that it might have been better had he died fighting – hanging on with his indomitable pluck and tenacity, tackling something with all the odds against him; doing his duty and his best as he had always done – and died as Rocky’s dog had died. If on that last day of our hunting together he had got at the lioness, and gone under in the hopeless fight; if the sable bull had caught and finished him with one of the scythe-like sweeps of the scimitar horns; if he could have died – like Nelson – in the hour of victory! Would it not have been better for him – happier for me? Often I thought so. For to fade slowly away; to lose his strength and fire and intelligence; to outlive his character, and no longer be himself! No, that could not be happiness!

Well, Jock is dead! Jock, the innocent cause of Seedling’s downfall and death, lies buried under the same big Fig Tree: the graves stand side by side. He died, as he lived – true to his trust; and this is how it happened, as it was faithfully told to me:

It was a bright moonlight night – Think of the scores we had spent together, the mild glorious nights of the Bushveld! – and once more Tom was roused by a clatter of falling boxes and the wild screams of fowls in the yard. Only the night before the thieves had beaten him again; but this time he was determined to be even with them. Jumping out of bed he opened the little window looking out on to the fowl-house, and, with his gun resting on the sill, waited for the thief. He waited long and patiently; and by-and-by the screaming of the fowls subsided enough for him to hear the gurgling and scratching about in the fowl-house, and he settled down to a still longer watch; evidently the kaffir dog was enjoying his stolen meal in there.

“Go on! Finish it!” Tom muttered grimly; “I’ll have you this time if I wait till morning!”

So he stood at the window waiting and watching, until every sound had died away outside. He listened intently: there was not a stir; there was nothing to be seen in the moonlit yard; nothing to be heard; not even a breath of air to rustle the leaves in the big fig tree.

Then, in the same dead stillness the dim form of a dog appeared in the doorway, stepped softly out of the fowl-house, and stood in the deep shadow of the little porch. Tom lifted the gun slowly and took careful aim. When the smoke cleared away, the figure of the dog lay still, stretched out on the ground where it had stood; and Tom went back to bed, satisfied.

The morning sun slanting across the yard shone in Tom’s eyes as he pushed the reed gate open and made his way towards the fowl-house. Under the porch, where the sunlight touched it, something shone like burnished gold.

He was stretched on his side – it might have been in sleep; but on the snow-white chest there was one red spot.

And inside the fowl-house lay the kaffir dog – dead.

Jock had done his duty.

The End

Chapter Twenty Eight.

Notes

Snake stories are proverbially an ‘uncommercial risk’ for those who value a reputation for truthfulness. Hailstorms are scarcely less disastrous; hence these notes!

Mamba. – This is believed to be the largest and swiftest of the deadly snakes, and one of the most wantonly vicious. The late Dr Colenso (Bishop of Zululand) in his Zulu dictionary describes them as attaining a length of twelve feet, and capable of chasing a man on horseback. The writer has seen several of this length, and has heard of measurements up to fourteen feet (which, however, were not sufficiently verified); he has also often heard stories of men on horseback being chased by black mambas, but has never met the man himself, nor succeeded in eliciting the important facts as to pace and distance. However that may be, the movements of a mamba, even on open ground, are, as the writer has several times observed, so incredibly swift as to leave no other impression on the mind than that of having witnessed a magical disappearance. How often and how far they ‘travel on their tails,’ whether it is a continuous movement or merely a momentary uprising to command a view, and what length or what proportion of the body is on the ground for support or propulsion, the writer has no means of knowing: during the Zulu war an Imperial officer was bitten by a mamba while on horseback and died immediately.

Hailstorms. – Bad hailstorms occur every year in South Africa, but they do not last long (ten minutes is enough to destroy everything that stands). The distances are immense, and the area of disturbance is usually a narrow strip; hence, except when one strikes a town, very few people ever witness them. This summer hailstorms were more general and more severe in the Transvaal than for some time past. A bad storm baffles description. The size of the hailstones is only one of the factors – a strong wind enormously increases the destructiveness; yet some idea may be gathered from the size of the stones. The writer took a plaster cast of one picked up at Zuurfontein (near Johannesburg), in November 1906, which measured 4.5 inches long, 3.5 wide and 1.125 inches thick – a slab of white ice. In the Hekpoort Valley (near Johannesburg) and in Barberton, about the same date, the veld was like a glacier; the hail lay like snow, inches deep, and during the worst spells the general run of the hailstones varied in size from pigeons’ eggs to hens’ eggs; but the big ones, the crash of whose individual blows was distinctly heard through the general roar, are described as ‘bigger than cricket balls’ and ‘the size of breakfast cups,’ generally with an elongation or tail – like a balloon. Sheep and buck were killed, and full-grown cattle so battered that some were useless and others died of the injuries; wooden doors were broken in, the panels being completely shattered; corrugated iron roofs were perforated, and in some cases the hailstones drove completely through them. The writer photographed a portion of a roof in Barberton which had suffered thus, and saw plaster casts – formed by pouring plaster of Paris into the indentations which two hailstones had made in a flower bed – in diameter equalling, respectively, tennis and cricket balls.

Near Harrismith, O.R.C., in 1903, two herd boys with a troop of about a hundred goats and calves were caught by the hail. The boys and all the stock, except one old goat, were killed.

Chapter Twenty Nine.

Glossary

NOTE. —The spelling of Cape Dutch and native names is in many cases not to be determined by recognised authority. The pronunciation cannot be quite accurately suggested through the medium of English. The figures of weights and measurements of animals are gathered from many sources, and refer only to first-class specimens. The weights are necessarily approximate.

AASVOGEL (d), a vulture (literally. carrion bird).

ANT-BEAR, AARDVARK (d) (Orycteropus jifer).

ANT-HEAP, mound made by termites or ‘white ants.’ Usually formed by one colony of ants; about two to four feet in base diameter and height, but often in certain localities very much larger. The writer photographed one this year near the scene of the Last Hunt, eighteen feet base diameter and ten feet high, and another in Rhodesia which formed a complete background for a travelling waggonette and six mules. In both cases these mounds were ‘deserted cities,’ and trees, probably fifty to one hundred years old, were growing out of them.

ASSEGAI (pronounced ass-e-guy) (n), native spear.

BAAS (d), master.

BANSELA (pronounced baan-sé-la) (n), a present.

BEKER (pronounced beaker) (d), a cup.

BILLY, a small tin utensil with lid and handle, used for boiling water.

BUCK-SAIL, tarpaulin used for covering transport waggons, which are known as buck-waggons.

BUFFALO, Cape buffalo (Bos Caffer). Height, 5 feet 6 inches; weight, possibly 1000 pounds; horns, 48 inches from tip to tip and 36 inches each in length on curve.

BULTONG, or Biltong (pronounced biltong) (n), meat cut in strips, slightly salted, and dried in the open air.

BUSH BUCK, a medium-sized but very courageous antelope (Tragelaphus scriptus). Height, 3 feet; weight, 130 pounds; horns (male only), 18 inches.

BUSH VELD, properly Bosch veld (d), bush country; also called Low Veld and Low Country.

CANE-RAT (Thryonomys swinderentanus).

CETYWAYO (see Ketshwayo).

CHAKA, properly Tshaka (n), the first of the great Zulu kings and founder of the Zulu military power.

DASSIE (pronounced daas-ey) (d), rock-rabbit; coney (Procavia (Hyrax) capensis) (literally. little badger).

DINGAAN, properly Dingan (e) (n), the second of the great Zulu kings; brother, murderer, and successor of Chaka.

DISSELBOOM (d), the pole of a vehicle.

DONGA (n), a gully or dry watercourse with steep banks.

DOUGH-BOYS, scones; frequently unleavened dough baked in coals; also ash-cakes, roaster cookies, stick-in-the-gizzards, veld-bricks, etc.

DRIFT (d), a ford.

DUIKER (pronounced in English dyker, in Dutch dayker) (d), a small antelope found throughout Africa (Cephalophus grimmi). Gross weight, 30 to 40 pounds; height, 28 inches; horns, 5.5 inches. (literally diver, so called from its habit of disappearing and re-appearing in low scrub in a succession of bounds when it first starts running).

GO’WAY BIRD, the grey plantain eater (Schizorbis concolor).

HARTEBEESTE (pronounced haar-te-beast) (d), a large antelope, of which there are several varieties, varying in gross weight from 300 to 500 pounds; height, 48 inches; horns, 24 inches.

HIGH VELD, properly Hoogeveld (d), high country; the plateau, about 5000 to 6000 feet above sea-level.

HONEY-BIRD, the honey guide (several species; family, Indicatoriae).

HONEY-SUCKER, sun bird (several species; family, Nectariniidae).

HORSE-SICKNESS, a lung affection prevalent during summer in low-lying parts; generally fatal; caused by microbes introduced in the blood by some insect.

IMPALA (n), an antelope (Aepyceros melampus); habitat, Bushveld; weight, 140 pounds; horns, up to 20 inches, straight.

IMPI (pronounced impey) (n), an army or body of armed natives gathered for or engaged in war.

INDUNA (pronounced in-doo-nah) (n), a head-man, captain, or chief, great or petty.

INKOS (pronounced in-kós – ‘os’ as in verbose) (n), chief; used as a term of respect in address or salutation.

INSPAN, properly Enspan (d), to yoke up, harness up, or hitch up.

ISANDHL’WANA, also ’SANDHL’WANA, incorrectly Isandula (pronounced saan-shle-waá-na), meaning ‘the little hand’, the hill which gave the name to the battle in which the 24th Regiment was annihilated in the Zulu War, 1879.

KAFFIR CORN, sorghum.

KAHLE (pronounced kaa-shle, corrupted in kitchen-Kaffir to ‘gaashly’) (n), gently, carefully, pleasantly, well. ‘Hamba kahle,’ farewell, go in peace. ‘Hlala (pronounced shlala) kahle,’ farewell, stay in peace.

KEHLA (pronounced keh-shlaa) (n), a native of certain age and position entitled to wear the head ring. Dutch, ring kop– ring head.

KERRIE, or KIRRIE, native sticks used for fighting, frequently knobbed; hence, knob-kerrie.

KETSHWAYO (pronounced ketsh-wy-o), incorrectly Cetywayo, fourth and last of the great Zulu kings.

KLIPSPRINGER (d), a small antelope, in appearance and habit rather like chamois (Oreotragus saltator) (literally. a rock-jumper).

KLOOF (d), a gorge.

KNEEHALTER (d), to couple the head to one fore leg by a reim or strap attached to the halter, closely enough to prevent the animal from moving fast.

KNOORHAAN, commonly, but incorrectly, Koorhaan or Koraan, (d), the smaller bustard (literally scolding cock).

KOODOO, properly KUDU (n) (Strepsiceros capensis). Habitat, rugged bushy country. Height, 5 feet; weight, 600 pounds; horns, up to 48 inches straight, and 66 inches on curve.

KOPJE (pronounced copy) (d), a hill (literally a little head).

KRAAL (pronounced in English crawl) (d), an enclosure for cattle, sheep, etc, a corral; also a collection of native huts, the home of a family, the village of a chief or tribe.

KRANS (d), often spelt KRANTZ (German) (D. krans, a circlet or crown), a precipitous face or coronet of rock on a hill or mountain.

LAGAVAAN, a huge water lizard, the monitor. Cape Dutch, lagewaan (pure Dutch, laguaan) (Varanus niloticus). Maximum length up to 8 feet.

LOOPER, round shot for fowling-piece, about four times the size of buck shot.

MARULA, in Zulu UMGANO, a tree which furnishes soft white wood, which is carved into bowls, spoons, etc; fruit eaten or fermented for drink (Sclerocarya caffra).

MEERKAT (d), a small animal of the mongoose kind (properly applied to Suricata tetradactyla, but loosely to several species).

MIDDLEVELD, properly MIDDELVELD (d), the mixed country lying between the High veld and the Bushveld.

NEK-STROP (d), the neck-strap, or reim, which, attached to the yokeskeys, keeps the yoke in place.

NIX (d), nothing (from D. niets).

ORIBI (n), a small antelope (Ourebia scoparia). Weight, 30 pounds; height, 24 inches; horns, 6 inches.

OUTSPAN, properly UITSPAN (d), to unyoke or unharness; also the camp where one has outspanned, and places where it is customary, or by law permitted, to outspan.

PAUW (pronounced pow) (d), the great bustard (literally peacock).

PANDA, properly ’MPANDE (n), the third of the great Zulu kings.

PEZULU (n), on top, up, above.

PARTRIDGE, PHEASANT, names applied somewhat loosely to various species of francolin.

POORT (pronounced pooh-rt) (d), a gap or gorge in a range of hills (literally gate).

QUAGGA, ZEBRA (correctly applied to Equus quagga, now extinct, but still applied to the various species of zebra found in South Africa).

REIM (pronounced reem) (d), a stout strip of raw hide.

REIMPJE (pronounced reempy) (d), a small reim.

RIETBUCK, properly (d) Rietbok (pronounced reet-buck), reed buck (Cervicapra arundinum). Height, 3 feet 6 inches; gross weight, 140 pounds; horns, male only, up to 16 inches.

SABLE ANTELOPE (Hippotragus niger; Dutch, zwaart witpens). Habitat, bushveld. Height, 4 feet 6 inches; weight, 350 pounds; horns, up to 48 inches on curve.

SAKUBONA (n), Zulu equivalent of ‘Good-day.’

SALTED HORSE, one which has had horse-sickness, and is thus considered immune (as in small-pox); hence ‘salted’ is freely used colloquially as meaning acclimatised, tough, hardened, etc.

SCHANS (pronounced skaans) (d), a stone or earth breastwork for defence, very common in old native wars.

SCHELM (d), a rascal; like Scotch skellum.

SCHERM (pronounced skarem) a protection of bush or trees, usually against wild animals.

SJAMBOK (pronounced in English shambok, in Dutch saam-bok) (d), tapering raw-hide whip made from rhinoceros, hippopotamus, or giraffe skin.

SKEY (pronounced skay), a yokeskey; short for Dutch jukskei.

SLOOT (d), a ditch.

SPAN (d), a team.

SPOOR (d), footprints; also a trail of man, animal, or vehicle.

SPRINGBUCK, properly SPRINGBOK (d), a small antelope (Antidorcas (Gazella) euchore). Habitat, high veld and other open grass country. Height, 30 inches; weight, up to 90 pounds; horns, 19 inches (literally. jumping buck).

SPRUIT (pronounced sprait; also commonly, but incorrectly, sproot) (d), a stream.

SQUIRREL, or TREE Rat, native name ’MCHINAAND (Funisciurus palliatus).

STEMBUCK (Cape Dutch, stembok or steinbok, from the pure Dutch steenbok, the Alpine ibex), a small antelope (Raphicerus campestais). Height, 22 inches; weight, 25 pounds; horns, 5 inches.

STOEP (pronounced stoop) (d), a raised promenade or paved verandah in front or at sides of a house.

TAMBUKI GRASS, also TAMBOOKIE, and sometimes TAMBUTI (n), a very rank grass; in places reaches 15 feet high and stem diameter half inch.

TICK, or RHINOCEROS, BIRD, the ‘ox-pecker’ (Buphaga Africana).

TIGER. In South Africa the leopard is generally called a tiger; first so described by the Dutch —tijger.

TOCK-TOCKIE, a slow-moving beetle, incapable of flight. Gets its name from its means of signalling by rapping the abdomen on the ground (tenebrionid beetle of the genus Psammodes).

TREK (d) (literally to pull), to move off or go on a journey; a journey, an expedition —eg, the Great Trek (or exodus of Boers from Cape Colony, 1836-48); also, and commonly, the time, distance, or journey from one outspan to another.

TREK GEAR, the traction gear, chain, yokes, etc, of a waggon. The Boer pioneers had no chains, and used reims plaited into a stout ‘rope’; hence trek-touw, or pulling-rope.

TSESSEBE, an antelope, one of the hartebeeste family (Damaliscus lunatus; Dutch, bastard hartebeeste). Height, 48 inches; weight. 300 pounds; horns, 15 inches.

TSETSE FLY, a grey fly, little larger than the common house-fly, whose bite is fatal to domesticated animals.

TWIGGLE, little people’s word for the excited movement of a small dog’s tail, believed to be a combination of wriggle and twiddle.

UMFAAN (n), a boy.

UMGANAAM (n), my friend.

UMLUNGU (n), the native word to describe a white man.

VELD (pronounced felt) (d), the open or unoccupied country; uncultivated or grazing land.