His last shout, like the bellow10 of a bull, was an uproarious good-bye to Jock. And Jock seemed to know it was something of an occasion, for, as he stood before me looking down the road at the receding11 waggons and the dancing figure of Jim, his ears were cocked, his head was tilted13 a little sideways, and his tail stirred gently. It was at least a friendly nod in return!
A couple of weeks later I heard from my friend: “You will be interested to hear that that lunatic of yours reached his kraal all right; but that’s not his fault. He is a holy terror. I have never known such a restless animal: he is like a change in the weather—you seem to feel him everywhere, upsetting everything and every one the whole time. I suppose you hammered him into his place and kept him there; but I wouldn’t have him at a gift. It is not that there was anything really wrong; only there was no rest, no peace.
“But he’s a gay fighter! That was a treat: I never laughed so much in my life. Below the Devil’s Kantoor we met a lot of waggons from Lydenburg, and he had a row with one of the drivers, a lanky14 nigger with dandy-patched clothes. The boy wouldn’t fight—just yelled blue murder while Jim walloped him. I heard the yells and the whacks15, like the beating of carpets, and there was Jim laying it on all over him—legs, head, back, and arms—with a sort of ferocious17 satisfaction, every whack16 being accompanied by a husky suppressed shout: ‘Fight, Shangaan! Fight!’ But the other fellow was not on for fighting; he floundered about, yelled for mercy and help, and tried to run away; but Jim simply played round him—one spring put him alongside each time. I felt sorry for the long nigger and was going to interfere19 and save him, but just then one of his pals20 called out to their gang to come along and help, and ran for his sticks. It was rare fun then. Jim dropped the patched fellow and went like a charging lion straight for the waggons where the gang were swarming21 for their sticks, letting out right and left whenever he saw a nigger, whether they wanted to fight or not; and in about five seconds the whole lot were heading for the bush with Jim in full chase.
“Goodness knows what the row was about. As far as I can make out from your heathen, it is because the other boy is a Shangaan and reads the Bible. Jim says this boy—Sam is his name—worked for you and ran away. Sam says it is not true, and that he never even heard of you, and that Jim is a stranger to him. There’s something wrong in this, though, because when the row began, Sam first tried to pacify22 your lunatic, and I heard him sing out in answer to the first few licks, ‘Kahle, Umganaam; Kahle, Makokel’!’ (Gently, friend; gently, Makokel’.) ‘Wow, Makokela, y’ ou bulala mena!’ (Wow, Makokela, you will kill me.) He knew Jim right enough; that was evident. But it didn’t help him; he had to skip for it all the same. I was glad to pay the noble Jim off and drop him at his kraal. Sam was laid up when we left.”
It is better to skip the change from the old life to the new—when the luck, as we called it, was all out, when each straw seemed the last for the camel’s breaking back, and there was always still another to come. But the turn came at last, and the ‘long arm of coincidence’ reached out to make the ‘impossible’ a matter of fact. It is better to skip all that: for it is not the story of Jock, and it concerns him only so far that in the end it made our parting unavoidable.
When the turn did come it was strange, and at times almost bewildering, to realise that the things one had struggled hardest against and regarded as the worst of bad luck were blessings23 in disguise and were all for the best. So the new life began and the old was put away; but the new life, for all its brighter and wider outlook and work of another class, for all the charm that makes Barberton now a cherished memory to all who knew the early days, was not all happy. The new life had its hours of darkness too; of almost unbearable24 ‘trek25 fever’; of restless, sleepless26, longing27 for the old life; of ‘home-sickness’ for the veld, the freedom, the roaming, the nights by the fire, and the days in the bush! Now and again would come a sleepless night with its endless procession of scenes, in which some remembered from the past were interlinked with others imagined for the future; and here and there in these long waking dreams came stabs of memory—flashes of lightning vividness: the head and staring eyes of the koodoo bull, as we had stood for a portion of a second face to face; the yawning mouth of the maddened crocodile; the mamba and its beady hateful eyes, as it swept by before the bush fire. And there were others too that struck another chord: the cattle, the poor dumb beasts that had worked and died: stepping-stones in a man’s career; the ‘books,’ the ‘chalk and blackboard’ of the school—used, discarded, and forgotten! No, they were not forgotten; and the memory of the last trek was one long mute reproach on their behalf: they had paved the roadway for the Juggernaut man.
All that was left of the old life was Jock; and soon there was no place for him. He could not always be with me; and when left behind he was miserable28, leading a life that was utterly29 strange to him, without interest and among strangers. While I was in Barberton he accompanied me everywhere, but—absurd as it seems—there was a constant danger for him there, greater though less glorious than those he faced so lightly in the veld. His deafness, which passed almost unnoticed and did not seem to handicap him at all in the veld, became a serious danger in camp. For a long time he had been unable to hear a sound, but he could feel sounds: that is to say, he was quick to notice anything that caused a vibration30. In the early days of his deafness I had been worried by the thought that he would be run over while lying asleep near or under the waggons, and the boys were always on the look-out to stir him up; but we soon found that this was not necessary. At the first movement he would feel the vibration and jump up. Jim realised this well enough, for when wishing to direct his attention to strange dogs or Shangaans, the villain31 could always dodge32 me by stamping or hammering on the ground, and Jock always looked up: he seemed to know the difference between the sounds he could ignore, such as chopping wood, and those that he ought to notice.
In camp—Barberton in those days was reckoned a mining camp, and was always referred to as ‘camp’—the danger was due to the number of sounds. He would stand behind me as I stopped in the street, and sometimes lie down and snooze if the wait was a long one; and the poor old fellow must have thought it a sad falling off, a weary monotonous33 change from the real life of the veld. At first he was very watchful34, and every rumbling35 wheel or horse’s footfall drew his alert little eyes round to the danger point; but the traffic and noise were almost continuous and one sound ran into another; and thus he became careless or puzzled and on several occasions had narrowly escaped being run over or trodden on.
Once, in desperation after a bad scare, I tried chaining him up, and although his injured reproachful look hurt, it did not weaken me: I had hardened my heart to do it, and it was for his own sake. At lunch-time he was still squatting36 at the full length of the chain, off the mat and straw, and with his head hanging in the most hopeless dejected attitude one could imagine. It was too much for me—the dog really felt it; and when I released him there was no rejoicing in his freedom as the hated collar and chain dropped off: he turned from me without a sign or sound of any sort, and walking off slowly, lay down some ten yards away with his head resting on his paws! He went to think—not to sleep.
I felt abominably37 guilty, and was conscious of wanting to make up for it all the afternoon.
Once I took him out to Fig12 Tree Creek38 fifteen miles away, and left him with a prospector39 friend at whose camp in the hills it seemed he would be much better off and much happier. When I got back to Barberton that night he was waiting for me, with a tag of chewed rope hanging round his neck, not the least ashamed of himself, but openly rejoicing in the meeting and evidently never doubting that I was equally pleased. And he was quite right there.
But it could not go on. One day as he lay asleep behind me, a loaded waggon coming sharply round a corner as nearly as possible passed over him. The wheel was within inches of his back as he lay asleep in the sand: there was no chance to grab—it was a rush and a kick that saved him; and he rolled over under the waggon, and found his own way out between the wheels.
A few days after this Ted4 passed through Barberton, and I handed Jock over to him, to keep and to care for until I had a better and safer home for him.
One day some two years later there turned up at my quarters an old friend of the transport days—Harry40 Williams—he had been away on a long trek ‘up north’ to look for some supposed mine of fabulous41 richness of which there had been vague and secret reports from natives. He stayed with me for some days, and one evening after the bout18 of fever and ague had passed off and rest and good feeding had begun to pull him round, he told us the story of their search. It was a trip of much adventure, but it was the end of his story that interested me most; and that is all that need be told here.
They had failed to find the mine; the native who was supposed to know all about it had deserted42, with all he could carry off; they were short of food and money, and out of medicines; the delays had been great; they were two hundred miles from any white men; there was no road but their own erratic43 track through the bush; the rains had begun and the fever season set in; the cattle—they had one waggon and span—were worn-out; the fever had gripped them, and of the six white men, three were dead, one dying, and two only able to crawl; most of their boys had deserted; one umfaan fit for work, and the driver—then delirious44 with fever—completed the party.
The long journey was almost over; and they were only a few treks45 from the store and camp for which they were making; but they were so stricken and helpless it seemed as though that little was too much, and they must die within reach of help. The driver, a big Zulu, was then raving46 mad; he had twice run off into the bush and been lost for hours. Precious time and waning47 strength were spent in the search, and with infinite effort and much good luck they had found him and induced him to return. On the second occasion they had enticed48 him on to the waggon and, as he lay half unconscious between bursts of delirium49, had tied him down flat on his back, with wrists and ankles fastened to the buck-rails. It was all they could do to save him: they had barely strength to climb up and pour water into his mouth from time to time.
It was midday then, and their dying comrade was so far gone that they decided50 to abandon one trek and wait for evening, to allow him to die in peace. Later on, when they thought it was all over, they tried to scrape out a grave for him, and began to pull out one old blanket to wrap round him in place of a shroud51 and coffin52. It was then that the man opened his eyes and faintly shook his head; so they inspanned as best they could and made another trek. I met the man some years afterwards, and he told me he had heard all they said, but could only remember one thing, and that was Harry’s remark, that ‘two gin-cases were not enough for a coffin, so they would have to take one of the blankets instead.’
In the morning they went on again. It was then at most two treks more to their destination; but they were too weak to work or walk, and the cattle were left to crawl along undriven; but after half an hour’s trekking53, they reached a bad drift where the waggon stuck; the cattle would not face the pull. The two tottering54 trembling white men did their best, but neither had strength to use the whip; the umfaan led the oxen this way and that, but there was no more effort in them. The water had given out, and the despairing helpless men saw death from thirst awaiting them within a few hours’ trek of help; and to add to the horror of it all, the Zulu driver, with thirst aggravating55 his delirium, was a raving lunatic—struggling and wrenching56 at his bonds until the waggon rattled57, and uttering maniac58 yells and gabbling incessantly59.
Hours had gone by in hopeless effort; but the oxen stood out at all angles, and no two would pull together in answer to the feeble efforts of the fainting men. Then there came a lull60 in the shouts from the waggon and in answer to the little voorlooper’s warning shout, “Pas op, Baas!” (Look out, Master!), the white men looked round and saw the Zulu driver up on his knees freeing himself from the reims. In another moment he was standing61 up full height—a magnificent but most unwelcome sight: there was a thin line of froth along the half-opened mouth; the deep-set eyes glared out under eyebrows62 and forehead bunched into frowning wrinkles, as for a few seconds he leaned forward like a lion about to spring and scanned the men and oxen before him; and then as they watched him in breathless silence, he sprang lightly off the waggon, picked up a small dry stick as he landed, and ran up along the span.
He spoke63 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 spurns64 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 hissed65 out, and all the sounds and terms the cattle knew shot at them—low-pitched and with intense repression—he ran along the span, crouching66 low all the time like a savage67 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 intensity68—and the animal swung back into line again.
Then out of the silence that followed came an electrifying69 yell to the span: every bullock leaned to its yoke6, 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 twig70 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 intervals71 of lordly ease at his kraal where the wives and cattle stayed and prospered72.
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1
waggons
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| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
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waggon
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| n.运货马车，运货车；敞篷车箱 | |
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resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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yoke
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| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
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yokes
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| 轭( yoke的名词复数 )； 奴役； 轭形扁担； 上衣抵肩 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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bellow
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| v.吼叫，怒吼；大声发出，大声喝道 | |
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receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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fig
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| n.无花果(树) | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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whacks
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| n.重击声( whack的名词复数 )；不正常；有毛病v.重击，使劲打( whack的第三人称单数 ) | |
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whack
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| v.敲击，重打，瓜分；n.重击，重打，尝试，一份 | |
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ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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21
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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pacify
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| vt.使(某人)平静(或息怒)；抚慰 | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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trek
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| vi.作长途艰辛的旅行；n.长途艰苦的旅行 | |
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sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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vibration
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| n.颤动，振动；摆动 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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36
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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abominably
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| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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prospector
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| n.探矿者 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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42
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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43
erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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45
treks
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| n.远距离行走 ( trek的名词复数 )；长途跋涉，艰难的旅程（尤指在山区）v.艰苦跋涉，徒步旅行( trek的第三人称单数 )；（尤指在山中）远足，徒步旅行，游山玩水 | |
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46
raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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47
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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48
enticed
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| 诱惑，怂恿( entice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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50
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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53
trekking
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| v.艰苦跋涉，徒步旅行( trek的现在分词 )；（尤指在山中）远足，徒步旅行，游山玩水 | |
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54
tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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wrenching
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| n.修截苗根，苗木铲根（铲根时苗木不起土或部分起土）v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的现在分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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maniac
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| n.精神癫狂的人；疯子 | |
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incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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lull
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| v.使安静，使入睡，缓和，哄骗；n.暂停，间歇 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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spurns
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| v.一脚踢开，拒绝接受( spurn的第三人称单数 ) | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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electrifying
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| v.使电气化( electrify的现在分词 )；使兴奋 | |
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twig
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| n.小树枝，嫩枝；v.理解 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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prospered
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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