MAGGIE'S BUTTER.

King Country Chronicle, Volume IV, Issue 292, 7 September 1910, Page 3

MAGGIE'S BUTTER.

A TRANSVAAL TALE. In the Zoutpansberg District in the Transvaal there is a small "alluvial" field. The camp which sprang up when the diggings were first discovered, is a very little one. And for two reasons—The Reitpan, as it was called, was too far from Johannesburg, and the road thither was too rough and too full of danger and hardship tc attract the usual "capitalist" or the syndicate man, whilst the general scepticism regarding "alluvial," which is the characteristic of the South African goldfields, prevented anything in the shape of a rush ic the direction of these diggings. The natural consequence was that the few diggers who had pitched their tents, or built their mud-houses and reed-huts in the reedy depression, enjoyed something like a monopoly. It is true the nuggets were not large, nor were they extraordinarily plentiful. Still, the fields on the whole paid very well, and industrious, steady diggers like young George Carlton found it quite worth their while to stick there. He had bceD among the earliest to arrive, and was accompanied by his bonnie young wife,, Maggie, who, with true British pluck, refused to stay in Cape Town while her husband toiled and suffered hardships fourteen hundred miles away. Thinking only of his wife, George had at first refused to listen to her suggestion, but overcome by her pleading, and his own love, h< at last was persuaded' to bring hei with him, and after eight weeks of weary travelling they landed at the alluvial diggings at Reitpan. In all conscience the life was rough enough, and although Maggie was as strong a young ?ady as ever travelled a South African veldt, yet she often, in her husband's absence, had a good cry to herself. But, brave girl as she was, her tears were dried and her face smiling long before her husband returned from his work, tired and scorched by the sun. When they first arrived they had lived in a tent but George managed to build a very decent reed hut, which was warmei at night and cooler by day. He alsc gave her a black boy to attend to the "house" ; in fact, he did everything in his power to make her as comfortable as he possibly could He had been fairly lucky in his finds and in the bottom of his trunk there lay a regular layer of nuggets waiting for the first opportunity to be sent down to the bank at Johannesburg. George had never intended to stay at the diggings one moment longer than the identical moment when the value of his finds exceeded a sum he had fixed upon in his mind as necessary to enable him to buy a snug 'little business in a down-country town. He had almost reached that sum when he was stricken down with the fever, and for days lay in a semi-unconscious condition. Pool Maggie wore herself out with her attention to her husband, who recovered from his half-unconsciousness, only to talk in his delirium: about his little hoard of nuggets. Maggie had thus a new terror added to her life. She was afraid that some of the other diggers would hear of their gold and rob them of it, for there were in Reitpan, as in every mining camp in the world, a number of unscrupulous blackguards who would have taken every ounce without the slightest compunction. Accordingly Maggie refused all offers of assistance, and waited on her husband day and night. At lavst he began to mend, and it was then that she was able to get a little rest. When George rose from his bed he was thin and yellow, and Maggie made him promise that as soon as he was strong enough they would leave the place, and try to tlo with what they had already got. George was not sorry to agree to this proposal, and his wife began to make preparations for leaving. She was in the midst of packing up some dresses when Bushman, her Kaffir M boy," mysteriously entered the room and as mysteriously beckoned her out. She slipped away without being perceived by George, and when she got outside the house Bushman was waiting for her. "Missis," he said, with that command of English which is one of the leading features of the Kaffir race, "listen. You know old baas Helleiby that lives by the fontein. ' An' you know the young black-haired devil. Well, last night I was in Jenny's bar, and I heard 'cm say something as they came out, and I follered 'em, and I heard " Here Bushman's voice went down to a whisper, and poor Maggie presently went back into the house as pale as death would have made her. Bushman's story Ivid been a very simple one. Old Hellerby and the "black haired devil" had arranged to ioh the house that night, as they were certain that there was gold somewhere about it. They had been watching George for some time previous to his illness, and had noticed that he had not sent away anything to Johannesburg, and accordingly they had come to the conclusion that the gold must be still in the house. In pursuance of their plan they turned up that very evening to inquire how George's health was. With a start Maggie raw them enter : but her unsuspecting husband-, knowing nothing whatever of their mission, received thorn cordially, and soon had a brimming cup of coffee set before them. On the table was a small keg of imported Danish butter, which had arrived that very morning, and into which the knives of the guests were very freely plunged as they laid it on thick upon their bread. As for Maggie she could scarcely eat anything, and her power of speech almost deserted bcr i but, afraid to alarm ter

husband, she strove to appear as im-oiK2i'n<v-i as if her guests were the no-t respectable of gcntlem :n. The iao\ h'.iicd ir.sn had small, Mack, bendy i:y;'s st behind a pair oi hiuje red rh::k ■ o;v\=, and Maggie felt her self fascinated by his face, knowing as she did the errand upon which he had come. How she managed to keep her composure she never could afterwards' imagine, and when she saw Jim's revolver handle sticking out of his jacket pocket, as if ready for use, she felt ready to faint. She was not afraid for herself ; like most, women her courage seemed to rise with her danger, but when she looked at her husband's pale, thin face, and then at the murderous blackguards opposite, she could stand it no lonsrcr. "Let them ransack the house rather than injure him," she thought. At last she rose and said, "George dear, I'm going off to sec Mrs. flrownlce (the only other woman in the camp); will you come with me ?" "'At this time of night ! Certainly not," said George. "B;;t 1 must go," said Maggie. "But, Maggie " said. George. "Do come, George," Maggie pleaded-, in despair, at the same time giving him a look straight in the eyes. "It's perfect nonsense," replied George. "At this time of night, it will kill me." At the same time he could not help wondering what she was up to. "If I had such a <ine young woman for wife, I would go like a shot, George," said old Hellerby. "What do you think. Jim ?" Naturally enough Jim was just as anxious as old Hellerby to get George out of the way. Very few men care to commit murder if they can attain their object without it. To their relief Georgs grumblingly consented, and when he had got his coat on they all left the house. After they had gone some distance the two men excused themselves, and, as Maggie very well knew, went straight back to the reed hut. She, however, was only too glad to get George safely away. '"Now, darling tell me what's up?" But she was afraid he would return immediately and try to protect his gold, and perhaps lose his life as well as his nuggets, and so she evaded his question and put him off. But whilst at Mrs. Brownlee's he was very restless, and it took Maggie all her time to keep him there. She was fairly successful though, and it was long after midnight ere they once more set out for their own house. Then a new fear struck her. How would he stand the loss of the gold ? Should she tell him and prepare him for it, or should she wait until'they had gone into the house? She decided on the latter course. The first thing that met their view was the box in which they used to keep the gold lying on its side on the floor. The whole place was in disorder, as if a complete search had taken place. "Oh, my gold, my gold !" groaned George, as he staggered to a chair. "Wait a minute ! Wait a minute !" screamed Maggie, as she plunged her pretty, white arm into the butterkeg and drew out a handful of nuggets. "It's all safe ! It's all safe, darling !" she said, clapping her hands. "I put it all in the bottom of the keg this very morning." The thieves had never thought of Maggie's butter.—W. B. Ryall.