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Updated: June 14, 2025
And from then on he climbed at intervals to the higher swellings of the gully edge and scanned the tundra. Twice he saw men, and from their movements he concluded their enemies believed they were hidden somewhere on the tundra not far from the range-houses. Three-quarters of an hour later they came to the end of the shallow ravine, and half a mile of level plain lay between them and the kloof.
But the Krugersdorpers, formerly notorious for their rough behaviour, were now the most orderly, and did not descend before all the men were collected. The kloof was strewn with bodies of khakies, who were sent up as reinforcement and pitilessly shot down by the burghers. The little stream of water was red with blood, so that we could not even quench our thirst.
Besides the oxen and fifteen wagons, was a mule team with the officers in charge. Three days after leaving Cape Town, the train drove into Wellington, fifty miles north. Soon after they entered the mountain, Bain's Kloof. They had great difficulty passing over this road through the mountains. Frequently they were obliged to double the ox teams on a single wagon in order to climb some steep ascent.
Ghost Kloof, I call it, and no Eskimo will enter it. The bones of dead men lie up there." "Never prospected it?" persisted Stampede. "Never." Alan heard the other's grunt of disgust. "You're reindeer-crazy," he grumbled. "There's gold in this canyon. Twice I've found it where there were dead men's bones. They bring me good luck." "But these were Eskimos. They didn't come for gold." "I know it.
She bent down and kissed my brow, while Anscombe took my hand. "Now you know," she answered. "We are both of us alive and well." "Thank God!" I exclaimed. "Kaatje swore that she saw you dead and buried." "One sees strange things in the Black Kloof," replied Anscombe speaking for the first time, "and much has happened to us since we were parted, to which you are not strong enough to listen now.
On horseback I made my way in easy stages up to the Rand. Here happened one of those incidents, which, although small in itself, alters the course of one's life. What took place when I rode into a small town on the Rand known as Doorn Kloof one chilly misty morning, was written in the bowl of fate. Doorn Kloof is well named; it means "the hoof of the Devil."
Whilst the soldiers were constructing this litter, he called two men of the Swamp-dwellers, who had their homes upon the banks of the Tugela, and promising them a reward, bade them run to his town, Mafooti, and tell his head man there to come at once with thirty of the best soldiers, and to hide them in the bush of the kloof above Ramah, where he would join them that night.
The volunteers returned, after a hard fight, with a body past any human judgments. Kloof, Daimamoto, Sheffield, and Beziers, all of whom had lost their lives in the battle with the Beni Harb, were soon buried on the beach by the hungry, thirsty, sand-penetrated Legionaries.
Soon it led us into other spoor, that of a whole herd of thirty or forty beasts indeed, which made our task quite easy, at least till we came to harder ground, for the animals had gone a long way. An hour or more later, when we were about seven miles from the river, I perceived ahead of us, for we were now almost at the foot of the hills, a cool and densely-wooded kloof.
There is a kloof on the Boer's farm where mimosa-trees grow. There, in the kloof, you shall find your oxen yes, five days' journey from here you will find them all. I say all, my father, except three only the big black Africander ox, the little red Zulu ox with one horn, and the speckled ox. You shall not find these, for they have died in the snow. Send, and you will find the others. No, no!
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