Part 21 (1/2)

”And curled himself up, and went to sleep.”

”Das vas der best of all, mein young vrient. Aha! Goot tog, den. You let me zee how you vas pad. I am your master's vrient; das ist zo.”

He advanced his hand to where Duke lay just inside the canvas, and the dog gave the skin on which he lay two thumps with his tail.

”Das ist goot,” said the old German trader. ”Ach! yaas; you haf been pite on dem pack, und scratch, scratch along bofe your zides; boot you are a prave tog, and zoon be guite well again.”

Duke's tail performed quite a fantasia now, and he uttered a low whine and licked at the great, fat, friendly hand which patted his head.

”Und now vere is der poy?”

”Get into the wagon,” said d.y.k.e; and the German climbed in, followed by d.y.k.e, and stooped down over the figure of Kaffir Jack, who lay on a blanket, with his head toward the front part of the wagon, through which opening the evening light still streamed.

The Kaffir's head was tied-up with a bandage formed of the sleeve of a s.h.i.+rt cut off at the shoulder, split up lengthwise at the seams, tied together so as to make it long enough, and this was stained with blood, evidently days old.

The Boer gazed down at the Kaffir, and Jack gazed up at him, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up his face in the most piteous fas.h.i.+on.

This scrutiny on both sides went on for some time in a silence which was at last broken by the Kaffir uttering a dismal groan which went right to d.y.k.e's heart.

”Ah,” said the trader softly, ”boor vellow! How you vas?”

Jack uttered a more dismal groan than before.

”Ah, vas it den? Boor mans! you zeem as bad as neffer can be. You doomble off dem vagon, und dread on your vace like dot?”

”Oh!” groaned Jack. ”Baas killum.”

”Did he den. Der baas kill der boor vellow dead?” Then suddenly changing his tone from one full of soft sympathy to a burst of fierce anger, he roared out: ”Dunder und lightning! You get oot of dis, you oogly black, idle tog. You got sore head, und lazy as big bullock. Out you vas!”

He accompanied the fierce words with a sharp kick, and Jack bounded up and sprang clear over the wagon-box, to stand out on the trampled ground, staring wildly.

”Ah, you vait till I gom und get das 'noceros whip, und make you tance, you lazy tog. You go take den pferd to water, or you haf no zopper to-night. Roon!”

d.y.k.e stood staring at the change that had come over the Kaffir, who ran to where the horse was tied, unfastened the rein, and led him off without a word.

The old trader chuckled.

”I know whad is der madder mit dose poy. He is guide well as neffer vas, und lie und shleep and say he gannod vork a leedle pid. How game he do domble und gut den kopf?”

d.y.k.e coloured.

”He did not tumble,” said the boy. ”I hit him.”

”Zo? Mit dem shd.i.c.k?”

”No,” faltered d.y.k.e; ”with the barrel of my gun.”

”Ach! das ist not goot. You mide break den gun. Der whip handle is der bess. Why you vas. .h.i.t him on dem het?”

”He would not see to the bullocks. Almost directly after we had started--I mean the next day--he got at the meat and ate all there was.”