Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1890-02-08

tece ana hands, one would scarcely have
believed that this was the same child
that Indaba-x -ximbi and had dragged for
hour after hour through the burning,
wSterless desert.
1--WE must breakfast alone, Mr.. Allan,
she said; my father is % upset by your
arrival that he will not get up yet. Oh,
you cannot tell how thankful I am that
you have come have been 90 anxious
about him Of late. He grows weaker
and weaker; Il seems to me as though
the strength were ebbing away from
him. Now he scarcely leaves the kraal;
have TO manage everything about the
farm. and he does nothing but read and
think"
Just then Hendrika entered, bearing q
jug Of coffee in one hand and Of milk In
the other, which she sat down upon the
table, casting look Of little love at me
as she did 90.
''Be careful, Hendrika; YOU are spill.
ing the coffee," said Stella. Don't you
wonder how we come to have coffee
here, Mr.. Allan? I will tell you've
grow It. That was my idea. Oh,
have lots Of things to show you. You
don't know what we have managed to
do In the time that we have been here.
You see, we have plenty OF labor, for
the people about look upon my father as
thsir chief"
EYES," I said, "but how do you get
all Of these luxuries Of civilization" and
pointed to the books, the crockery, and
the knives and forks.
Every simply. Most Of the books my
father brought with him when he first
trekked into the wilds; there was nearly
a wagon load Of them. But every three
years we have sent an expedition Of
these wagons right down to Port Natal.
The wagons are loaded with ivory and
other goods, and come back with all
kinds Of things that have been sent out
from England for us. You see, although
we live in this wild place, we are not al
together cut off. We can send runners
to Natal and back In three months, and
the wagons get there and back in a year."
"Have you ever been with the wag.
onsf" 1 asked.
"Since was child have never been
moro than thirty miles from Babyan's
Peak" she answered. "Do you know,
Mr.. Allan, that you are, with one ex-
ception, the first Englishman that I
have known out Of book. suppose
that must seem very wild and savage
to you, but have had one advantage
q good education. My father has taught
me everything, and perhaps know
some things that you don't. can read
Era,rak ,,I 4
think that my fathers first idea was to
let me run wild altogether, but he gave
It up"
"And don't you wish to 60 into the
worldY' I asked.
Sometimes" she said, "when I get
lonely. But perhaps my father is right
perhaps It would frighten and bewil-
der me. At any rate, he would never
return to civilization. 1t is his idea, you
know. though am sure do not know
where he got it from, nor why he cannot
bear that our name should be spoken.
In short, Mr.. Quatermain, we do not
make our lives; we must take them ms
we find them. Have you done your
breakfast Let us go out and will
show you our domain"
rose and went to my sleeping place
to fetch my hat. When I returned, Mr..
Carson-for, after all, that was his name,
though he would never allow it to be
spoken-had come into the hut. He felt
better now, he said, and would accom-
pany us on our walk if Stella would give
him an arm.
So we started, and after us came
Hendrika with Tota and old Indaba-
zimbi, whom / found sitting outside as
fresh as paint. Nothing could tire that
old man.
The view from the platform was al
most as beautiful as that from the lower
ground looking up to the peak. The
marble kraals, as have said, faced west,
consequently all the upper terrace lay in
the shadow of the great peak till nearly II
o'clock in the morning, which was great
advantage in that warm latitude. First
we walked through the garden, which
was beautifully cultivated, and one of
the most productive that ! ever saw.
There were three or four natives work
ing in it, and they all saluted my host as
"Baba," or father. Then we visited the
other two groups of marble huts. One
Of these was used for stables and out
buildings, the other as storehouses, the
center hut having been, however, turned
into chapel. Mr.. Carson was not or
dained, but he earnestly tried to convert
tho natives, most of whom were refugees
who had come to him for shelter, and he
had practiced the more elementary rites
Of the church for solong that think he
began to believe that he really was
clergyman. For instance, he always
those of his people who would
to homogeneous existence, and
baptized their children.
When we had examined these wonder
full remains of antiquity, the marble huts,
and admired the orange trees, the vines
and fruits which thrive like weeds in this
soil and climate, we descended
to the next platform and saw the farming
operations in full swing. think that 1t
was the best farm / have ever seen in
Africa. There was ample water for pur-
poses of irrigation, the grass lands below
gave pasturage for hundreds of head of
cattle and horses, and, for natives, the
people were most industrious. More
over, the whole place was managed by
Mr.. Carson on the cooperative system;
he only took tithe of the produce-in-
deed, in this land of teeming plenty,
what was he to do with more? Conse-
quently the tribemen, who, by the way,
called themselves the "Children Of
Thomas" Were able to accumulate con.
siderable wealth. All their disputes were
to their "father," and he also
was judge of offenses and crimes. Some
were punished by imprisonment, whip
ping and loss of goods, other and graver
transgressions by expulsion from the
fiat which to one of these
favored natives must have seemed as
heavy as the decree that drove Adam
from the Garden of Eden,