“As his only chance, Lieutenant Moodie turned round, and leveled his gun at the largest elephant; but unfortunately the powder was damp, and the gun hung fire, till he was in the act of taking it from his shoulder, when it went off, and the ball merely grazed the side of the elephant’s head. The animal halted for an instant, and then made a furious charge upon him. He fell; whether struck down by the elephant’s trunk he can not say. The elephant then thrust at him as he lay, with his tusk; fortunately it had but one, and more fortunately it missed its mark, plowing up the ground within an inch of Mr. Moodie’s body.

  “The animal then caught him up with its trunk by his middle, and dashed him down between his fore-feet to tread him to death. Once it pressed so heavily on his chest, that all his bones bent under the weight, but somehow or other, whether from the animal being in a state of alarm, it never contrived to have its whole weight upon him; for Mr. Moodie had never lost his recollection, and kept twisting his body and his limbs, so as to prevent it from obtaining a direct tread upon him. While he was in this state of distress, another officer and a Hottentot hunter came up to his assistance, and fired several shots at the animal, which was severely wounded, and the other three took to their heels. At last the one which had possession of Mr. Moodie turned round, and giving him a cuff with its fore-feet followed the rest. Mr. Moodie got up, picked up his gun, and staggered away as fast as his aching bones would permit him. He met his brother, who had just been informed by one of the Hottentots, who had seen him under the elephant, that he was killed.”

  “Well, that was an escape,” observed Wilmot.

  “What made it more remarkable was, that he had hardly time to explain to his brother his miraculous preservation, before he witnessed the death of one of the hunters, a soldier, who had attracted the notice of a large male elephant which had been driven out of the jungle. The fierce animal gave chase to him, and caught him immediately under the height where Mr. Moodie and his brother were standing, carried the poor fellow for some distance on his trunk, then threw him down, and stamping upon him until he was quite dead, left the body for a short time. The elephant then returned, as if to make sure of its destruction; for it kneeled down on the body, and kneaded it with his fore-legs; then, rising, it seized it again with its trunk, carried it to the edge of the jungle, and hurled it into the bushes.”

  “Dreadful! I had no idea that there was such danger in an elephant-hunt; yet I must say,” continued Alexander, “that, although it may appear foolishness, it only makes me more anxious to have one.”

  “Well, as we advance, you will have no want of opportunity; but it will be better to get the Caffres to join us, which they will with great delight.”

  “Why, they have no weapons, except their spears.”

  “None; but they will attack him with great success, as you will see; they watch their opportunity as he passes, get behind, and drive their spears into his body until the animal is exhausted from loss of blood, and they are so quick that the elephant seldom is able to destroy one of them. They consider the elephant of as high rank as one of their kings, and it is very laughable to hear them, as they wound him, beg pardon of him, and cry out, ‘Great man, don’t be angry; great captain, don’t kill us,’”

  “But how is it that they can approach so terrible an animal without destruction?”

  “It is because they do approach quite close to him. An elephant sees but badly, except straight before him, and he turns with difficulty. The Caffres are within three feet of his tail or flank when they attack, and they attack him in the elephant-paths, which are too narrow for the animal to turn without difficulty; the great risk that they run is from another elephant breaking out to the assistance of the one attacked.”

  “The animals do assist each other, then?”

  “Yes; there was a remarkable instance of it in the affair of Lieutenant Moodie. I mentioned that it was a large male elephant which killed the soldier just after Mr. Moodie’s escape. Shortly afterward a shot from one of the hunters broke the fore-leg of this animal, and prevented him from running, and there it stood to be fired at. The female elephant, which was in the jungle, witnessing the distress of its mate, regardless of her own danger, immediately rushed out to his assistance, chasing away the hunters, and walked round and round her mate, constantly returning to his side, and caressing him. When the male attempted to walk, she had the sagacity to place her flank against the wounded side, so as to support him, and help him along. At last the female received a severe wound, and staggered into the bush, where she fell; and the male was soon after laid prostrate by the side of the poor soldier whom he had killed.”

  “There is something very touching in the last portion of your story, Swinton,” observed Alexander; “it really makes one feel a sort of respect for such intelligent and reasoning animals.”

  “I think the first portion of the story ought to teach you to respect them also,” said the Major. “Seriously, however, I quite agree with you; their sagacity, as my Indian experience has taught me, is wonderful; — but here comes supper, and I am not sorry for it.”

  “Nor I,” replied Alexander. “To-morrow we shall be at the missionary station, if the guides are correct. I am very anxious to get there, I must say. Does not the chief of the Amakosa tribe live close to the Mission-house, — Hinza, as they call him?”

  “Yes,” replied Swinton, “he does, and we must have a present ready for him, for I think it would be advisable to ask an escort of his warriors to go with us after we leave the Mission.”

  “Yes, it will be quite as well,” replied the Major, “and then we shall have some elephant-hunting: but Bremen tells me that there are plenty of hippopotami in the river there, close to the Mission.”

  “Water-elephants,” replied Swinton; “I suppose you will not leave them alone?”

  “Certainly not if our commander-in-chief will allow us to stop.”

  “I think your commander-in-chief,” replied Wilmot, “is just as anxious to have a day’s sport with them as you are, Major; so you will certainly have his permission.”

  “I think we ought to put Omrah on a horse. He is a nice light weight for a spare horse, if required.”

  “Not a bad idea,” replied Alexander. “What a tiger he would make for a cab in the park!”

  “More like a monkey,” replied the Major; “but it is time to go to bed; so, good-night.”

  CHAPTER XI.

  The caravan proceeded on the following morning, and by noon they arrived at the Mission station of Butterworth, which was about one hundred and forty miles from the colonial boundaries. This station had only been settled about three years, but even in that short time it wore an air of civilization strongly contrasted with the savage country around it. The Mission-house was little better than a large cottage, it is true, and the church a sort of barn; but it was surrounded by neat Caffre huts and gardens full of produce.

  On the arrival of the caravan, Mr. S., the missionary, came out to meet the travelers, and to welcome them. He had been informed that they would call at the station, and bring some articles which had been sent for. It hardly need be said that, meeting at such a place, and in such a country, the parties soon became on intimate terms. Mr. S. offered them beds and accommodation in his house, but our travelers refused; they were well satisfied with their own; and having unyoked their oxen, and turned them out to graze with those belonging to the station, they accepted the missionary’s invitation to join his repast.

  Alexander having stated the object of his expedition, requested the advice of Mr. S. as to his further proceedings, and asked him whether it would not be advisable to see the Caffre king, and make him a present. This Mr. S. strongly advised them to do; and to ask for a party of Caffres to accompany the caravan, which would not only insure them safety, but would prove in many respects very useful. All that would be necessary would be to find them in food and to promise them a present, if they conducted themselves well. “You are aware,” continued he, “that Hinza’s domain only extends as far as the Bashee or St. John’s River, and you will have to proceed beyond that; but with some of the Caffre warriors you will have no difficulty, as the tribes further will not only fear your strength, but also the anger of Hinza, should they commit any depredation. But things, I regret to say, do not look very peaceable just now.”

  “Indeed! what is the quarrel, and with whom?”

  “Hinza has quarreled with a powerful neighboring chief of the name of Voosani, who reigns over the Tambookie tribes, about some cattle, which are the grand cause of quarrels in these countries, and both parties are preparing for war. But whether it will take place is doubtful, as they are both threatened with a more powerful enemy, and may probably be compelled to unite, in order to defend themselves.”

  “And who may that be?”

  “Quetoo, the chief of the Amaquibi, is in arms with a large force, and threatens the other tribes to the northward of us; if he conquers them, he will certainly come down here. He was formerly one of Chaka’s generals, and is, like him, renowned for slaughter. At present he is too far to the northward to interfere with you, but I should advise you to lose no time in effecting your mission; for should he advance, you will be compelled to retreat immediately. I had better send to Hinza to-morrow to let him know that strangers have come and wish to see him, that they may make him a present. That notice will bring him fast enough; not but that he well knows you are here, and has known that you have been in his country long ago.”

  “It will be as well, after the information you have given us,” said Mr. Swinton.

  “What is your opinion of the Caffres, Mr. S., now that you have resided so long with them?”

  “They are, for heathens, a fine nation, — bold, frank, and, if any thing is confided to them, scrupulously honest; but cattle-stealing is certainly not considered a crime among them, although it is punished as one. Speaking as a minister of the Gospel, I should say they are the most difficult nation to have any thing to do with that it ever has been my lot to visit. They have no religion whatever; they have no idols; and no idea of the existence of a God. When I have talked to them about God, their reply is, ‘Where is he? show him to me.’”

  “But have they no superstitions?”

  “They believe in necromancy, and have their conjurers, who do much harm, and are our chief opponents, as we weaken their influence, and consequently their profits. If cattle are stolen, they are referred to. If a chief is sick, they are sent for to know who has bewitched him; they must of course mention some innocent person, who is sacrificed immediately. If the country is parched from want of rain, which it so frequently is, then the conjurers are in great demand: they are sent for to produce rain. If, after all their pretended mysteries, the rain does not fall so as to save their reputation, they give some plausible reason, generally ending, however, in the sacrifice of some innocent individual; and thus they go on, making excuses after excuses until the rain does fall, and they obtain all the credit of it. I need hardly say that these people are our greatest enemies.”

  “Are you satisfied with the success which you have had?”

  “Yes, I am, when I consider the difficulty to be surmounted. Nothing but the Divine assistance could have produced such effects as have already taken place. The chiefs are to a man opposed to us.”

  “Why so?”

  “Because Christianity strikes at the root of their sensuality; it was the same when it was first preached by our Divine Master. The riches of a Caffre consist not only in his cattle, but in the number of his wives, who are all his slaves. To tell them that polygamy is unlawful and wrong, is therefore almost as much as to tell them that it is not right to hold a large herd of cattle; and as the chiefs are of course the opulent of the nation, they oppose us. You observe in Caffreland, as elsewhere, it is ‘hard for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.’ I have asked the chiefs why they will not come to church, and their reply has been, ‘The great word is calculated to lessen our pleasures and diminish the number of our wives; to this we can never consent,’”

  “But still you say you have made some progress.”

  “If I have, let it be ascribed to the Lord, and not to me and my otherwise useless endeavors; it must be His doing; and without His aid and assistance, the difficulties would have been insurmountable. It is for me only to bear in mind the scriptural injunction, ‘In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand; for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good.’”

  “But have they no idea whatever of a Supreme Being, either bad or good? have they no idea, as some of the African tribes have, of the devil?”

  “None; and in their language they have no word to express the idea of the Deity; they swear by their kings of former days as great chiefs, but no more. Now if they had any religion whatever, you might, by pointing out to them the falsity and absurdity of that religion, and putting it in juxtaposition with revealed Truth, have some hold upon their minds; but we have not even that advantage.”

  “But can not you make an impression upon their minds by referring to the wonders of nature, — by asking them who made the sun and stars? Surely they might be induced to reflect by such a method.”

  “I have tried it a hundred times, and they have laughed at me for my fables, as they have termed them. One of the chiefs told me to hold my tongue, that his people might not think me mad. The Scriptures, indeed, teach us that, without the aid of direct revelation, men are also without excuse if they fail to attain to a certain knowledge of the Deity,— ‘even his eternal power and God-head,’ — by a devout contemplation of the visible world, which with all its wonders is spread out before them as an open volume. But beyond this, all knowledge of the origin or manner of creation is derived, not from the deductions of human reasoning, but from the Divine testimony; for it is expressly said, ‘Through faith we understand that the worlds were made by the word of God.’”

  “Nevertheless you must admit that, among the civilized nations of Europe, many who deny revelation, and treat the Bible as a fable, acknowledge that the world must have been made by a Supreme Power.”

  “My dear sir, many affect to deny the truth of revelation out of pride and folly, who still in their consciences can not but believe it. Here, there being no belief in a Deity, they will not be persuaded that the world was made by one. Indeed, we have much to contend with, and perhaps one of the greatest difficulties is in the translation of the Scriptures. I sit down with an interpreter who can not read a single word, and with perhaps a most erroneous and imperfect knowledge of divine things. We open the sacred volume, and it is first translated into barbarous Dutch to the Caffre interpreter, who then has to tell us how that Dutch is to be put into the Caffre language. Now you may imagine what mistakes may arise. I have found out lately that I have been stating the very contrary to what I would have said. With this translation, I stand up to read a portion of the Word of God, for my interpreter can not read, and hence any slight defect or change in a syllable may give altogether a different sense from what I desire to inculcate.”

  “That must indeed be a great difficulty, and require a long residence and full acquaintance with the language to overcome.”

  “And even then not overcome, for the language has no words to express abstract ideas; but the Lord works after His own way, and at His own season.”

  “You do not then despair of success?”

  “God forbid; I should be indeed a most unworthy servant of our Divine Master, if I so far distrusted His power. No; much good has been already done, as you will perceive when we meet to-morrow to perform Divine service; but there is much more to do, and, with His blessing, will in His own good time be perfected; but I have duties to attend to which call me away for the present; I shall therefore wish you good-night. At all events, the Mission has had one good effect: you are perfectly safe from Caffre violence and Caffre robbery. This homage is paid to it even by their kings and chiefs.”

  “I will say, that if we are only to judge by the little we have seen, the Mission appears to have done good,” observed the Major. “In the first place, we are no longer persecuted, as we have been during our journey, for presents; and, as you may observe, many of the Caffres about are clothed in European fashions, and those who have nothing but their national undress, I may call it, wear it as decently as they can.”

  “I made the same observation,” said Alexander. “I am most anxious for to-morrow, as I wish to see how the Caffres behave; and really, when you consider all the difficulties which Mr. S. has mentioned, it is wonderful that he and those who have embraced the same calling should persevere as they do.”

  “My dear Wilmot,” replied Mr. Swinton, “a missionary, even of the most humble class, is a person of no ordinary mind; he does not rely upon himself or upon his own exertions, — he relies not upon others, or upon the assistance of this world; if he did, he would, as you say, soon abandon his task in despair. No; he is supported, he is encouraged, he is pressed on by faith — faith in Him who never deserts those who trust and believe in Him; he knows that, if it is His pleasure, the task will be easy, but at the same time that it must be at His own good time. Convinced of this, supported by this, encouraged by this, and venturing his life for this, he toils on, in full assurance that if he fails another is to succeed, — that if he becomes a martyr, his blood will moisten the arid soil from which the future seed will spring. A missionary may be low in birth, low in education, as many are; but he must be a man of exalted mind, — what in any other pursuit we might term an enthusiast; and in this spreading of the Divine word, he merits respect for his fervor, his courage, and self-devotion; his willingness, if the Lord should so think fit, to accept the crown of martyrdom.”

  “You are right, Swinton; nothing but what you have described could impel a man to pass a life of privation and danger among a savage race — leaving all, and following his Master in the true apostolic sense. Well, they will have their reward.”