X.

_THE BANK-NOTE._

"SLOW and steady" was assuredly the Boer's motto. The formal leave-takings, the blessings and the charges delivered by Van Niepert to every member of his daughter's family before he set a foot in the stirrup, took up so much time that Jack grew tired of being alone. His pop-gun was his first resource, but his ammunition was soon exhausted, and Zyl did not appear to gather up the scattered peas; so he waited until the scarred Kafir put in an appearance with his bowl of milk. Not understanding what it was he wanted, she brought him his father's coat. As she held it out to him, Jack saw for the first time that Vickel had torn the lining.

He took it from her hand in much dismay, wondering whether he were man enough to mend it. As he turned it over, a letter fell out from between the cloth and the lining. It had never been opened; but it must have been shaking about in the inside of the coat a long while, for the edges of the envelope were worn through and let the contents fall out. The letter was addressed to the "Rev. Astley Bourke," and that was all. Jack unfolded the note, and found a flimsy piece of paper folded in it, on which was printed, "Bank of England."

"Can this be a bank-note?" thought Jack, for he had seen one when his father sold his wool. He felt now he was making a grand discovery, and read the note very carefully.

"The Honourable Mrs. Featherstone presents her compliments to the Rev. Astley Bourke, and in answer to his application encloses a bank-note for £50.

"HAWKSWOOD HALL, NOTTINGHAM."

Of course it was the word Nottingham caught Jack's eye, for it made him think of his grandfather. But he did not consider it wise to let the Kafir see the bank-note, so he slipped it under his pillow until he was left alone. But unfortunately Jack's precaution failed, for the Kafir would not have known what it was if she had seen it, but Otto did; and just as Jack had taken out the note and spread it before him on the sheet to examine it more thoroughly, Tante Milligen, happening to meet Otto, sent him to set Jack's mind at ease.

Walt had gone with his grandfather part of the way, so the German was once again the only English-speaking individual on the farm.

As he poked his way into the loft to deliver Tante Milligen's message, he caught sight of the note, and watched Jack slip it out of sight. He said nothing, but "Bank of England," "fifty pounds," rang in his head for days.

[Illustration: VICKEL AND HER MASTER.]

The German did not stay long. When Jack found himself alone once more, he packed up his treasure very carefully, knotting it in the handkerchief with Mr. Algarkirke's card and the sixpence the younger Niepert had given to him.

"I must keep it very carefully till father comes back," he thought. "I wonder whom it belongs to? Fifty pounds is such a lot of money; wouldn't father be glad if it were his?" Then he turned over and tried to sleep; but the responsibility of so large a sum of money under his pillow would not let him rest.

The very wind seemed singing "the Rev. Astley Bourke." At last he sat upright, and once more taking out his treasure, looked for the date. He could read it clearly in the brilliant moonlight, and counting the intervening months on his fingers, satisfied himself that the letter was written nearly two years ago.

"How odd that Mr. Algarkirke never found it," reflected Jack, "for it must have been in the lining of the coat all the while he had it. I wonder where he is now. Father did not altogether like him; but he said he could trust Van Immerseel, for he took such care of everything in the waggon, all the more because father was a stranger to him, and I must do the same."

After Jack had cleared up his mind and decided what he ought to do in the matter, sleep became possible once more. He dreamed of running over the sea with the bank-note in his hand, to ask his grandfather if the Rev. Astley Bourke lived at Nottingham.

The next day Jack was dressed by the Kafir in the grotesque garments the Black Antelope had found for him. Then she got him on her back and carried him down the ladder into the sit-kamé, and laid him down on Sannie's sheep-skin. He had found a bit of string in the loft, and tied his treasures round his neck under the blouse.

Everybody came and looked at him, and spoke encouragingly in Dutch. But he had nothing to do but to count the plum-stones in the floor and the beams in the ceiling, for the other children were sent out of the way to keep him quiet; but this did not last long.

Little Sannie was the first to make her way to him. She came waddling in like a fat little duck, with both hands full of sweeties, which she wanted him to share.

The next morning Zyl stood at the foot of the ladder with a look of business about him, waiting for Jack's appearance. Jack was looking much better and feeling stronger. He found he could dispense with the old Kafir's services, and walked down the ladder himself.

Having at last got hold of Jack's hand, Zyl led him off in triumph to the three-cornered seat in his own little garden. The grassy thatch on the old umbrella had been well watered, thus adding a refreshing coolness to the quiet nook. A pile of newly-cut sods were prepared for a footstool, and a heap of juicy oranges for their mutual enjoyment.

A few such days brought back the colour to Jack's cheek, and the sparkle of returning health to his hollow eyes. Then Zyl and Genderen laid their heads together and evolved a grand scheme.

A little hand-carriage was constructed with Walt's help, very much resembling a wash-trough on wheels. A pillow and an old cloak of Tante Milligen's were placed in it, before Jack was asked if he would like a drive.

Zyl was horse and Sannie driver, whilst Genderen walked sedately by its side with a branch of a milk-bush in her hand, flicking away the flies with its long waxen leaves.

"Ah! Neu yah trek!" shouted Zyl, and away they went towards the sheep-kraals.

Now and then they stopped to rest, when Sannie played in the waving tambouki grass, and gathered bunches of the yellow bitto flower and bright bluebell; and Genderen pointed to the tiny black insects with red stripes which made that bunch of yellow flowers their mimic city. Then Zyl discovered a veritable ant-palace, out of which the valiant inhabitants were marching to make war on their encroaching neighbours. So eager was he to watch the pitched battle which ensued, that he approached too near the insect squadron, and got a sting for his temerity.

How odd it seemed not to be able to talk in the same language to each other. Genderen, in her slow, quiet fashion, was trying to teach Jack the Dutch names of the different things they passed, and to repeat his English ones. Their mutual mistakes called forth such bursts of laughter that there was no lack of fun amongst them. That was obviously intelligible all round. Jack had recourse to pantomime, in which he was growing very expert, imitating what he wanted to describe just as children do in the game of "dumb actions."

Then Zyl once more began his shout of "Ah! Neu yah trek!" And the little cavalcade again set forward, until they came in sight of Otto's hut and the vast multitude of sheep dotting the red karroo.

As they drew nearer, the shepherd's dogs came leaping and bounding towards them with short, joyous barks of welcome.

Zyl was for harnessing them to Jack's car, and rushed off to borrow a rope of Otto. But Genderen shook her head, and reminded him they were to rest in the shepherd's hut, where a basket of fruit and roaster-cakes would be waiting for them.

Otto himself came trotting up on his shaggy pony. He had locked the door of his hut when he left it in the morning; but the basket Genderen expected to find had been duly left on the step by one of the Kafir boys. The German pressed them to enter, and lifted Jack out of his carriage.

The hut was built of wattle and clay, with a fireplace and one window. Jack was eager to go in, for he thought perhaps his father could build them such another; it could not cost anything so much as their house which was burned down.

Genderen began to unpack the basket, and spread its contents on Otto's little table. As a matter of course, he was invited to take his share. But to find seats for so large a party was more than he knew how to manage, seeing he could boast of but one chair, and that he offered to Genderen. He had no bedstead, but a sort of hammock swung across the end of the hut. He began to clear the top of his box, which usually served him as a side-table.

Jack suddenly stepped forward, for there lay his lost knife.

"Please, Mr. Otto," he began.

But the German turned to him with a frown. "I'll have no meddling with my things," he answered in a threatening tone.

Jack was silent; he saw it was useless to remonstrate, for the German would give his own version to Van Immerseel.

"And, I am sure," thought Jack, "a man who would take my knife would not be above telling a lie; and I could not explain to anybody it was mine any more than I could about the poor Black Antelope."

Still Jack had one more question he wanted to ask the shepherd, so he said quickly, "We are not going to meddle with any of your things, Mr. Otto," with an emphasis on the "your" that made the German bristle all over like a porcupine setting up its quills.

But he was a little disarmed when Jack continued undismayed, "But please, Mr. Otto, can you tell me when the schoolmaster will come again?"

This was a vital question for Jack, and he waited breathlessly for the answer. But Otto either could not or would not tell him.

After a while Zyl set up his unearthly shout of, "Ah! Neu yah trek!" and although Otto flatly refused to let his dogs be transferred into post-horses, the return journey was as blithe as the outgoing.

Of course, the dogs obeyed their master's whistle, and accompanied him until they had a good view of the sheep. Perceiving that their customary charges were all right, and that nothing particular was required of them, they rushed back to the children with one accord, feeling themselves in duty bound to see their young friends well on their homeward way. Up they came, with their curly ears well back and their bushy tails wagging with delight. Their eyes were bright with the pleasure of stolen liberty, as they bounded round the children, saying as plainly as dogs always can to those who try to understand them, "We know we shall catch it if we are caught, but we'll risk it just this once for you, you dears."

Then hands were licked and shaggy heads were fondled, and hairy and rosy lips exchanged their mutual kisses, Jack at last becoming emboldened to take his share in this overflow of caressing love.

Suddenly the oldest of these curly guards laid his keen head to the ground, and catching the echo of a far-off whistle, gave a look to his companions. Away they flew, raising a cloud of sand behind them, and leaving the children breathless with laughter.

The next day they made an excursion in an opposite direction, towards the rocks. All thought of danger from the free Kafirs was now set at rest.

"It was proved the thieves had come from civilized, not from savage life. More shame to them!" thought Jack. "If I had only been big enough to shoulder a rifle behind father, we should have been a match for them. Next time we'll see."

Away he walked, resolved to try his strength and make Sannie ride. By dint of persistency he carried his point, but was glad to compromise the matter and make frequent exchanges, which Genderen approved, observing, "Des is wohl" (that is well), as she felt proud of the success of their experiment, for Jack was getting well now as fast as he could.

They ate their fruit and cakes in what the Dutch children called a "kloof,"—that is, a narrow cleft in the nearest mass of rock, down which in time of rain a dashing cataract thundered, fed by a mountain stream. But the burning sunshine of that African summer had dried-up the fall to a few trickling drops.

A deep indented line of whitening sand divided the bottom of the valley. High overhead the precipitous rocks arose like the walls of a giant stronghold; and the tiny water-drops which oozed so slowly from their fractured sides fell with a musical sound on the smooth, flat stones at their feet—stones which had been polished to their present smoothness by the drip of ages. In this cool retreat, beneath the grateful shadow of the rocks, there grew a quivering tree. There was no one to tell Jack its nature or its name, but he gazed upon it in an ecstasy of delight and wonder. Lower down the bank of the dried-up stream a clump of young mimosas gave shelter to a covey of wild guinea-fowl.

As the children advanced, running and shouting to each other in their glee, the shy and timid guinea-chicks were frightened, and rising from the flat-crowned bushes, took their flight to the safer shelter of the rocks.

Off went Genderen and Zyl on the quest for eggs, creeping on their hands and knees where the tangle of underwood would have barred their progress. To such bird-nesting Jack had been a stranger; but after Genderen had shown him the first nest she had discovered, with its circle of dark pointed eggs, he comprehended their object and joined in the eager pursuit. Sannie was left to enjoy a nap in the little carriage, which they had drawn up beneath the shadow of the quivering tree.

Again and again Jack put his hand to his breast to be sure that weighty responsibility, the Bank of England note, was safe in his handkerchief. He was growing tired with the scrambling and the scratches, so he went back to the sleeping Sannie, and gathering a handful of rushes which grew upon the margin of the dried-up stream, plaited them into a small flat basket, just big enough to hold his treasure. He sewed the top together with a long and flexible rush, so that no one could catch a glimpse of even the white handkerchief, in which the letter and its important contents were wrapped up. Then he tied it round his neck once more, and satisfied at last that he had made it really safe, lay down by Sannie to rest. He had no idea that the little snoring bundle had slept with one eye open, and was very curious as to his proceedings, until she stretched out both her fat baby hands and pulled his shirt, inquiring with an infantine lisp that was almost irresistible to Jack, "Was is das?"

He took her on his knee, and with the remains of the rushes wove her a basket for her very own.

In that cool retreat the summer hours flew swiftly by, and the children never thought of returning; for Genderen had found a nest of tiny guinea-chicks, and Zyl had lined the empty luncheon-basket with soft dry grass to receive them. Genderen placed them in it with a careful hand, delighted with the prospect of carrying home so excellent a find.

As she extricated herself from the thicket, she saw a little bit of a scarlet blanket clinging to a mimosa leaf. A sudden thought struck her. She turned back, parted the branches, and looked eagerly between them. She saw a heap of gathered grass, crushed and pressed, as if it had been the sleeping-place of some wild animal. Genderen brushed her hand across her eyes, and stooping down, picked up a brass-headed pin she herself had given to the poor Black Antelope.

Here, then, was her retreat. Could she be hiding here still?

"No; she was on her way to her own country," persisted Zyl; "but they could not leave the kloof without a search."

Up and down the dried-up bed of the watercourse, on to every accessible ledge to be discovered on its rocky sides, went Zyl, prodding with a broken branch from the quivering tree into every hole and crevice, where it was possible and even where it was not possible for their hare-like friend to hide; but all in vain. The cold, hard rocks only echoed back the much loved name Zyl persisted in shouting at the very top of his voice.

"It is of no use," said Genderen sorrowfully. "When we get home, father will send the men with the dogs, and perhaps they will hurt her."

"They must bring me back with them," interposed Zyl, "to show them where she slept. Mind you don't describe it so that they can find it without me, Gen; and if they flog her, they will have to flog me first, that's all."

Having reached this decision, they ran across to Jack, who recognized the bit of scarlet blanket and the brass pin in a minute. He had felt too weak to take part in the search, but shared their grief at its failure. Zyl pointed out one source of comfort: poor Blackie would not starve with guinea-fowls' eggs to suck and the pure rock-water to drink. This was their consolation.

Zyl insisted upon Jack riding home, although Jack was sure Sannie could not walk so far; but there were the eggs to be conveyed, and Sannie might break them. Zyl was dogged, so Jack gave in and let Zyl tuck him up in his carriage. Then the Dutch boy brought an armful of grass, which he kneaded into a sort of nest on Jack's lap, and in this the eggs were piled. Genderen placed her precious basket of living chicks in his right hand, for she had a heavier task to perform in carrying Sannie.

Under such circumstances, their progress was of the slowest; and before they had progressed half a mile, they encountered Otto, who had come in search of them.

He had gone up to the house by chance, and finding Tante Milligen in a state of great anxiety because the children had not returned, he volunteered to ride round and look for them. He took up Genderen behind him and Sannie before him; but he left the boys to their own devices, knowing well that no power on earth could make Zyl quicken his pace and risk his eggs.

Sannie was delighted to find herself on the neck of Otto's horse, with his arm round her waist, holding her safe and fast. So she chattered on in her innocent way, half to herself and half to him. He was thinking more of Genderen's heavy sighs (for he knew she was dreading her mother's anger) than of Sannie's prattle, until she asked him to give her letters and paper to put in her basket like those Jack Treby kept in his. Then he lent a very earnest ear, asking her many questions.