man, although they did call him an “African Talleyrand.” If it had not been so would every native from the Cape to the Zambesi have known and revered his name, as perhaps that of no other white man has been revered? But I must get on with my tale and leave historical discussions to others more fitted to deal with them.
We had a very pleasant dinner that night, although I was so ashamed of my clothes with smart uniforms and white ties all about me, and Anscombe kept fidgeting his feet because he was suffering agony from his new pumps which were a size too small. Everybody was in the best of spirits, for from all directions came the news that the Annexation was well received and that the danger of any trouble had passed away. Ah! if we had only known what the end of it would be!
It was on our way back to the wagon that I chanced to mention to Anscombe that there was still a herd of buffalo within a few days’ trek of Lydenburg, of which I had shot two not a month before.
“Are there, by Jove!” he said. “As it happens I never got a buffalo; always I just missed them in one sense or another, and I can’t leave Africa with a pair of bought horns. Let’s go there and shoot some.”
I shook my head and replied that I had been idling long enough and must try to make some money, news at which he seemed very disappointed.
“Look here,” he said, “forgive me for mentioning it, but business is business. If you’ll come you shan’t be a loser.”
Again I shook my head, whereat he looked more disappointed than before.
“Very well,” he exclaimed, “then I must go alone. For kill a buffalo I will; that is unless the buffalo kills me, in which case my blood will be on your hands.”
I don’t know why, but at that moment there came into my mind a conviction that if he did go alone a buffalo or something would kill him and that then I should be sorry all my life.
“They are dangerous brutes, much worse than lions,” I said.
“And yet you, who pretend to have a conscience, would expose me to their rage unprotected and alone,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye which I could see even by moonlight. “Oh! Quatermain, how I have been mistaken in your character.”
“Look here, Mr. Anscombe,” I said, “it’s no use. I cannot possibly go on a shooting expedition with you just now. Only to-day I have heard from Natal that my boy is not well and must undergo an operation which will lay him up for quite six weeks, and may be dangerous. So I must get down to Durban before it takes place. After that I have a contract in Matabeleland whence you have just come, to take charge of a trading store there for a year; also perhaps to try to shoot a little ivory for myself. So I am fully booked up till, let us say, October, 1878, that is for about eighteen months, by which time I daresay I shall be dead.”
“Eighteen months,” replied this cool young man. “That will suit me very well. I will go on to India as I intended, then home for a bit and will meet you on the 1st of October, 1878, after which we will proceed to the Lydenburg district and shoot those buffalo, or if they have departed, other buffalo. Is it a bargain?”
I stared at him, thinking that the Administrator’s champagne had got into his head.
“Nonsense,” I exclaimed. “Who knows where you will be in eighteen months? Why, by that time you will have forgotten all about me.”
“If I am alive and well, on the 1st of October, 1878, I shall be exactly where I am now, upon this very square in Pretoria, with a wagon, or wagons, prepared for a hunting trip. But as not unnaturally you have doubts upon that point, I am prepared to pay forfeit if I fail, or even if circumstances cause you to fail.”
Here he took a cheque-book from his letter-case and spread it out on the little table in the tent, on which there were ink and a pen, adding—
“Now, Mr. Quatermain, will it meet your views if I fill this up for £250?”
“No,” I answered; “taking everything into consideration the sum is excessive. But if you do not mind facing the risks of my non-appearance, to say nothing of your own, you may make it #50.”
“You are very moderate in your demands,” he said as he handed me the cheque which I put in my pocket, reflecting that it would just pay for my son’s operation.
“And you are very foolish in your offers,” I replied. “Tell me, why do you make such crack-brained arrangements?”
“I don’t quite know. Something in me seems to say that we shall make this expedition and that it will have a very important effect upon my life. Mind you, it is to be to the Lydenburg district and nowhere else. And now I am tired, so let’s turn in.”
Next morning we parted and went our separate ways.
CHAPTER II. — MR. MARNHAM
So much for preliminaries, now for the story.
The eighteen months had gone by, bringing with them to me their share of adventure, weal and woe, with all of which at present I have no concern. Behold me arriving very hot and tired in the post-cart from Kimberley, whither I had gone to invest what I had saved out of my Matabeleland contract in a very promising speculation whereof, today, the promise remains and no more. I had been obliged to leave Kimberly in a great hurry, before I ought indeed, because of the silly bargain which I have just recorded. Of course I was sure that I should never see Mr. Anscombe again, especially as I had heard nothing of him during all this while, and had no reason to suppose that he was in Africa. Still I had taken his £50 and he might come. Also I have always prided myself upon keeping an appointment.
The post-cart halted with a jerk in front of the European Hotel, and I crawled, dusty and tired, from its interior, to find myself face to face with Anscombe, who was smoking a pipe upon the stoep!
“Hullo, Quatermain,” he said in his pleasant, drawling voice, “here you are, up to time. I have been making bets with these five gentlemen,” and he nodded at a group of loungers on the stoep, “as to whether you would or would not appear, I putting ten to one on you in drinks. Therefore you must now consume five whiskies and sodas, which will save them from consuming fifty and a subsequent appearance at the Police Court.”
I laughed and said I would be their debtor to the extent of one, which was duly produced.
After it was drunk Anscombe and I had a chat. He said that he had been to India, shot, or shot at whatever game he meant to kill there, visited his relations in England and thence proceeded to keep his appointment with me in Africa. At Durban he had fitted himself out in a regal way with two wagons, full teams, and some spare oxen, and trekked to Pretoria where he had arrived a few days before. Now he was ready to start for the Lydenburg district and look for those buffalo.
“But,” I said, “the buffalo probably long ago departed. Also there has been a war with Sekukuni, the Basuto chief who rules all that country, which remains undecided, although I believe some kind of a peace has been patched up. This may make hunting in this neighborhood dangerous. Why not try some other ground, to the north of the Transvaal, for instance?”
“Quatermain,” he answered, “I have come all the
