Our African Driver

BY

J. H. SPETTIGUE

 'Here comes the wagon to be packed!' called the children, as with a creak and groan of wheels, and shouts from the Kafirs, it was brought lumbering to the door.

'The vor-chiest is ready, Lang-Jan,' said Mrs. Gilbert, coming to the door. 'Everything that can, had better be put in place to-night.'

'Ja, Meeses,' agreed Jan. 'It's a long trek from this here place to the town in one day, and I will start early, while the stars are still out.' Lang-Jan was our driver, so called to distinguish him from the numerous other Jans about the place.

The distinction was appropriate, for he looked very tall and slim, though it might be the contrast with his wife's massive build that gave him a false presentment. He was more proud of her bulk than of his own height, and used to jeer at his Hottentot leader for the scraggy appearance of _his_ weaker half, possibly with the kindly intention of reducing the number, or severity, of the poor creature's beatings.

I do not believe Jan ever beat his wife, though I think she was as lazy a woman as could be found. Perhaps he got most of his rations provided from the house, and was not dependent on her for his comfort.

However, he seemed to me to have a Mark Tapley temper; the more unendurable the weather got, the cheerier he grew with his guttural and yet limpid cries to the oxen, and his brisk steps by their side.

There was one thing, however, he could not see in patience--an amateur who had borrowed his whip with the proud intention of 'helping to drive' letting the end of four yards of lash draggle over the dewy karoo, thereby making it limp and reducing its power to clack in the approved fashion.

       *       *       *       *       *

An Early Start

'We had better sleep in the wagon, then we shall not be disturbed so early,' cried one of the children; but we older people preferred the idea of half a night's rest indoors to lying awake on the cartels in the wagon listening to the tossings and complaints of others.

We had been staying by the sea, and were now to journey homewards. Long before daylight, the noise of the oxen and clank of trek-chain told that inspanning was begun, and those of us who were to form the wagon party sprang out of bed and made a hurried toilet, while the Kafir women carried off the feather-beds and blankets, to stow in their allotted places in the wagon.

Mr. Gilbert and his wife, with the younger children, were to follow in a four-horse Cape-cart.

'Isn't it too dark to be trekking?' he called from his window.

'The roads is good down here,' said Jan. 'I can see enough'; and he hurried his leader, and got us under way without more ado.

       *       *       *       *       *

We had the front curtain of the tent rolled up, and sat about on the boxes in silence for some time, listening to the plash of the sea upon the beach, every minute somebody giving a yawn.

'I cannot think why Lang-Jan is hurrying on so,' said Constance at last, 'unless he thinks it will be a very hot day again. The oxen gave out as we were coming down, and we had to outspan about five miles off.'

'I was cross,' said a younger sister.

'You need not tell us that. We have not forgotten,' laughed another.

'Well, I thought I could hear the sea, and I had been meaning to run down and have a bathe directly we stopped. It was enough to make one cross. And then that stupid old Kafir and Jan over the outspan money, and our none of us being able to find any change. I believe Jan was glad we couldn't pay.'

'Jan resents having to pay outspan money: he will wriggle out of it if he can,' said Constance.

We had gone the first three or four miles with plenty of noise, clack of whip and shout at team, but this gradually subsided, and with a warning to April, the leader, to have the oxen well in the middle of the road and to keep right on, Jan sank into such silence as was possible.

Constance rose, and began to fumble for her purse.

We heard a stealthy order to April to run, and the whip sounded again about one ox and another, while we were tipped about in all directions as the team suddenly put on a tremendous spurt.

In the dim light we could see the outlines of a hut close by the road, and a Kafir sprang out of the doorway towards us shouting for his money. Jan took no notice, but whipped and shouted and trotted along as if his were the only voice upraised.

'Stop, Jan, stop!' called Constance.

But Jan was suddenly deaf. The other man was not, however, and he ran along after us, followed by a string of undressed children, shouting and gesticulating wildly.

'Jan, I insist upon stopping,' called Constance. 'April, stop the oxen.'

In spite of all the noise Jan was making, April could not fail to hear the indignant cry of his young mistress, and presently the wagon was halted. Jan hastily popped the whip into the wagon and turned back to confront his enemy.

'What do you mean by stopping a wagon in the road like this? Outspan money? We have not outspanned and are not going to on your starved old veldt.'

'Jan, Jan, you know very well we are owing him two shillings from the last time we passed,' said Constance.

The stranger Kafir tried to get to the wagon, but Jan barred the passage. He changed his tactics. 'Come, let's fight for it,' he cried, casting his hat and scarlet head-handkerchief into the karoo out of the way.

This offer was declined without thanks. 'I shan't fight. The money is mine,' protested the other, encouraged by finding his demand was allowed by the ladies.

'April, leave the oxen and come here,' called Constance. 'Give this money to him.'

Jan's Principles

This was done at last, to Jan's grief. 'Ah, Mees Constance! Why didn't you let me fight him? he was only a little thieving Fingo dog! I didn't outspan in sight of his old hut, and he must have come sneaking around and seen us, and never said he would have money till it was too late.'

'Well, Jan, and why should our oxen eat up the grass and drink out of the dam without our paying?' asked Constance; but Jan only muttered, 'Thief! Dog!' and got away from the scene of his defeat with speed.

'That was why we were obliged to start in the middle of the night: Jan wanted to slip by here before the wagon could be recognised,' said Constance. Jan had made a stand for his principles, though his mistress's perverted sense of justice had prevented his being able to carry them out. By the time we stopped for breakfast he had quite recovered his spirits; and when he found he had got his party well away from the place without another hateful demand, he seemed to have forgotten his hard fate in the early morning. When we reached the town we lost sight of Jan and his wagon for a couple of days, and took up our abode at an hotel.

       *       *       *       *       *

A change had taken place in our party when we collected for the second and longer part of our journey. Mr. Gilbert had gone home with some of the younger ones the day before, while his wife had stayed in town to take the rest of us to a ball.

We were all tired as we reached the wagon, with our minds running on the purchases we had made, and lingering regretfully on some we had not.

Lang-Jan and April hurried off to fetch the oxen as soon as we appeared; and Mrs. Gilbert began to go through the stores.

'Those two Kafirs have eaten up our butter!' she exclaimed indignantly. 'I saw what was left when you came, and thought it might not be quite enough. It is lucky I did, and have bought some more, or we should have had none at all. I cannot let such a thing as their taking our provisions pass without notice.--Jan,' she said, when he returned, 'you have taken my butter.'

'Oh, Meeses!' exclaimed Jan, as if such a thing was quite out of the question, 'not me. It must ha' bin April.'

'No, Meeses--not me, Jan,' said April.

'It was both of you, I have no doubt,' said Mrs. Gilbert severely.

'Oh, Meeses, April, April!' cried Jan, shaking his head.

'No, it was Jan,' protested the leader, again.

Jan burst into a roar of laughter, like a naughty child owning up. 'Oh! ja, Meeses! It was me. I looked at that tin of butter and then I said to April, 'I must have some of that lovely butter, whatever comes of it,' and then between us, it's all gone.'

It seemed impossible to deal with the offence gravely after that. 'I shall know I must not leave any in the wagon another time,' said the mistress; and we scrambled into our places to be out of the way while the work of inspanning went on.

A Fiery Day

The morning turned into a fiery day. The air shimmered blindingly above the veldt, and the white road, inches deep in dust, trailed ahead like an endless serpent. We panted and gasped under the shelter of the tent; April abandoned his post and climbed up in the back compartment of the wagon, but Jan grew more and more lively.

He tightened his waist-belt and ran by the side of his team, encouraging them by voice and example.

He wore an old soft felt hat, with a perfectly abject brim, above his scarlet handkerchief, and every quarter of a mile he would take it off and put the ostrich feather that adorned one side straight up, and attempt to pinch the limp brim into shape.

In spite of his cheerful snatches of song, and his encouraging cries, the poor beasts showed more and more signs of distress, till at last Jan turned to Mrs. Gilbert and said, 'The poor oxen is just done up. We must outspan till it gets cooler.'

'What, outspan in this pitiless place, with not a house, or a tree, or water to be got at!' cried one of the girls.

'There is a water-hole down there,' said Jan, pointing to a dip in the ground not far off.

'Yes,' said Mrs. Gilbert, 'I have been down there on horseback.'

The wagon was drawn off the road, and the weary oxen let loose, while we stretched ourselves on the cartels, but found the heat too great to let us recover any of our lost sleep.

After a time some of us, thinking any change must be for the better, dragged ourselves out into the glare, and went to look at the pool of water. But though a few prickly pears and mimosa bushes grew around, it was not an inviting spot to rest in, and we laboured back across the scorching ground to the wagon, our only benefit being more thankfulness for its shelter.

April had gone off to see that the oxen did not wander too far. Jan lighted a fire, made coffee for us, and broiled some meat and green mealie cobs.

We felt better after our meal, though we had not been hungry for it. Then, to my surprise, Jan settled down to enjoy his share, as close to the fire as he could. I do not know if the burning scrub made a little motion in the air, or if Jan, by roasting one half of his body, felt the other cooler by contrast.

Presently I saw, coming slowly across the veldt, a white-haired Kafir, carrying a weakly lamb in his arms. He made straight for Jan and sat down beside him.

Constance, who was looking out too, roused herself and gave a little laugh. 'Caught,' she said, and I knew what she meant.

At first the palaver seemed amiable enough, and we saw Jan even go the length of making a present of grilled mutton--chiefly bone, but not all.

'An attempt at bribery,' murmured Constance.

In about half an hour we heard the inevitable demand. One might have thought Jan had never heard of outspan money, instead of its being a familiar and heating subject with him. When at last the claim was made clear to him, he asked the name of the Baas, and expressed the greatest surprise that any man could be so mean as to ask for money, just because poor souls had to wait by the road till it got cool, when it was too hot even for the oxen to eat anything.

The explanation that the place was such a convenient distance from town, that if nothing was charged the Baas would have nothing left for his own flocks and herds, was badly received, as was also the reminder that if it was too hot for the oxen to eat much, they would drink all the same. The two argued for an hour, Jan emphatic and expostulating, the old Kafir calm, feeling both right and law were on his side.

'We shan't Pay'

At length, Jan surprised us by announcing, 'We shan't pay. Your Baas won't expect money from me anyhow, if he does from other people.'

'Why not?' exclaimed the other in surprise, for Jan spoke with conviction.

'My Baas' wife is cousin to your Baas' wife, so of course we're free on his veldt.'

We laughed, but the collector remarked that he would go and inquire. So he marched up to the wagon, followed closely by Lang-Jan, in fear of treachery, and asked Mrs. Gilbert if it was true, and being informed that the ladies were related, he retired at once, and Jan triumphantly accompanied him back to the fire.

I thought Jan would be happy now the wicked had ceased from troubling, but the storm had its after-roll. He now expressed indignation that two shillings had been demanded. If such an iniquitous claim was made at all, one shilling was all that should be asked for.

They harried this point till the stranger asked Jan what odds it was to him--he did not pay the money.

'Don't I pay the money?' cried Jan. 'Isn't it taken out of my very hand?'

'Oh, ja! But it comes out of the Baas' pocket.'

'It comes out of my very hand,' reiterated Jan, springing up; and fetching his whip, he gave three tremendous clacks with it, the signal to April, that could be heard a mile away in the still air, to bring back the oxen; and the baffled enemy picked up his lamb and retired from action.

Jan was jubilant, and cheerfully agreed to Mrs. Gilbert's suggestions as to the best camping-place for the night.

But I think his triumph was demoralising for him. As evening settled down and we were getting towards our resting-place, we passed by a rare thing--a long wooden fence; and we soon saw that Jan and April were freely helping themselves to the dry wood, and stowing it at the sides of the wagon to save themselves the trouble of collecting any later.

'Jan,' called his mistress, 'you must not steal that wood. The man it belongs to told the Baas he lost so much that he should put somebody to watch, and have any one who was caught taken before Mr. Huntly.'

'April,' shouted Jan, laughing, 'look out for old Huntly. The Meeses says we must stop it.'

Later, when we had outspanned for the night, and they had broiled our sausages, and made the coffee with chuckling anticipation of remainders, they made such a fire as scared Mrs. Gilbert, lest they should set the dry karoo around alight.

'Here, April, we must beat it down a bit. The Meeses is feared we shall set the moon afire,' laughed Jan, laying about him with a will, as the flames leaped heavenward.

The next morning he had to cross a river, and pay toll at the bridge. Why Lang-Jan never objected to that, I do not know, but he came quite meekly for the money. His mistress had not the exact sum, and Jan was some time inside the toll-house, which was also a store.

On emerging, he shouted and whipped up his oxen, and off we lumbered.

When we came to a hill, and our pace was sufficiently slackened for speech, Mrs. Gilbert called to him, 'Jan, where is my change?'

'Oh, Meeses!' exclaimed Jan, quite unabashed; 'I took the change in tobacco!'