e of emergency; no cart or other means of
conveyance to remove their goods from the spot on which they had been
left; no doctor in case of sickness; no minister in cases either of joy
or sorrow--except indeed (and it was a blessed exception) Him who came
to our world "not to be ministered unto, but to minister."
Strong in the comfort that this assurance gave, Edwin Brook shook off
the lethargy that had been stealing over him, and set about the duties
of the present hour. The tent had to be pitched, the trunks and boxes
conveyed into it, a fire kindled, the kettle boiled, the goods and
chattels piled and secured from the weather, firewood cut to prepare for
the night-bivouac, etcetera.
Much of this work was already in progress, for George Dally,--with that
ready resource and quiet capacity of adaptation to circumstances which
he had displayed on the voyage out and on the journey to the location,--
had already kindled a fire, sent Scholtz to cut firewood, and was busy
erecting the tent when Brook joined him.
"That's right, George," he said, seizing a tent-peg and mallet; "we have
plenty to do here, and no time to waste."
"Very true, sir," replied George, touching his cap, for George was an
innately respectful man--respectful to _all_, though with a strong
tendency to humorous impudence; "very true, sir; that's just what I
thought when I see you a-meditatin', so I went to work at once without
wastin' any time."
"Is zat enough?" asked Scholtz, staggering up at the moment with a heavy
load of firewood, which he threw on the ground.
The question was put to George, for whom the big German had a special
regard, and whose orders he consequently obeyed with unquestioning
alacrity, although George had no special right to command.
"Enough!" exclaimed George, with a look of surprise, "why, _zat_ is not
enough to scare a weasel with, much less a elephant or a--a
platzicumroggijoo."
George was ignorant of South African zoology, and possessed inventive
powers.
"Bring ten times as much," he added; "we shall have to keep a blazin'
bonfire agoin' all night."
Scholtz re-shouldered his axe, and went off to the jungle with a broad
grin on his broader countenance.
He was a man who did not spare himself, yet of a temperament that kicked
at useless labour, and of a size that forbade the idea of compulsion,
but George Dally could have led him with a packthread to do anything.
Before he had reached the jungle, and whil
|