IV.

_JAARSVELDT BY DAYLIGHT._

"OUT-SPAN by our gate," said Van Immersed to Mr. Treby. "In the morning we may find out which way the sheep were driven. What could you do single-handed in the open, suppose those fellows should return? I am off with Otto and the lads to my own sheep-kraals. When once such work begins, who knows where it may stop? Those black neighbours of ours won't catch me napping; but you are beaten out of time already. Turn in till daylight."

Otto duly translated, adding to his master's advice the comforting remark that the black beggars could not drive away the veldt.

So Jack's father decided to live in his waggon a day or two until he knew what course to take. The Boar's view of last night's proceedings was similar to the postman's, that he felt it would be unwise to risk returning to his burning farm at present. Until the ashes cooled, nothing could be done. He only wished Tottie was with them; but Tottie, who had seen the marauders pass while she lay hidden in the sloot, did not believe they were Kafirs at all, but a pack of half-caste thieves, who would make away with their booty as fast as they could, and never think of returning. When they were gone, she saw no reason why she should leave her hut.

Meanwhile some of the Boer's men had unyoked Mr. Treby's oxen and secured them for the night. His pleasant way of speaking was so different from the rough manners of the Boers, they helped him gladly. Whilst they were thus engaged "out-spanning," as they say in Africa, Walt Immerseel cut off the horns from the bull's head, and putting one in his own pocket, offered the other to Mr. Treby.

"With these we can make each other hear if anything occurs in the night," he said, and Otto repeated.

When the danger-signal was agreed upon, Walt marched off to play patrol on the other side of the sheep-kraals.

Jack was already in his grassy nest, and now his father lay down beside him.

"There is no word of comfort for us to-night, Jack," he said despondently. "Our Bible was on the shelf, wasn't it?"

"Yes," answered his boy; "so it is burnt. Everything must be burnt by this time—everything that was in the house, I mean, father."

"Yes, I am afraid so," was the gloomy answer. "We must fall back on memory. Tell me some verse or other, my dear, before we go to sleep."

Jack thought for a little while, and then he began repeat softly,—

"Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

"That's right," murmured his father. "Troubled and afraid! It is just what I am to-night; but it won't do. I can't see our way out of this; but the Lord will provide. Draw a little closer, Jack; let me have tight hold of you whilst we go to sleep."

The sleep they so sorely needed came at last; but it was broken before daybreak by the heavy tramp of the Boer and his son returning to the house, for with approaching daylight the fear of an attack from the thieves diminished.

"All right," shouted Walt Immerseel, very proud of the new English phrase he had beguiled the tedious night-watch by learning from Otto.

Mr. Treby waved his hat in reply; then the Boer stopped, and beckoning to Otto, who was following, came up to the waggon. He seated himself on the shaft, and entered into a long conversation; but as Jack was only half-awake, he could not understand what they were saying.

Walt had gone into the house, but he soon came back with a huge cup of steaming coffee and a plate of cold beef left from the last night's supper. Evidently the hospitable Boers did not mean to let the poor Englishman starve.

"Now, Jack," said his father as soon as they were alone, "I am going away with young Walt and his men to follow the sheep-tracks they saw yesterday, so I must leave you here. You will be quite safe, as all the farm people are astir, and they seem very kindly disposed. You must be a man, and take care of the few things we have saved. Tante Milligen has offered to look after you. Don't take offence at their queer ways. You were so tired last night you were almost cross. I have told them you would rather stay in the waggon, and we may not be gone long."

Jack felt a strange rising in his throat at the thought of being left behind, but he set his teeth hard. One thing he was quite sure about—he was not going to add to his father's trouble in any way; so he gulped back the rising tears, and answered bravely, "Never mind me, father; I shall get on somehow."

He drank a little coffee from his father's cup, and then lay down again in the dry grass. Mr. Treby covered him with the tattered remains of the blanket which had hooded Vickel, and then went to fetch a pail of water from the farm-pond. When he returned, Jack was fast asleep again.

His father took good care not to waken him. "The longer he sleeps the better," he said to himself. "It will do him good, and he will not miss me so much."

But Jack was sorely vexed when he roused at last to find his father fairly gone. With a stretch and a shake Jack got up, and gave Vickel her breakfast from the mealie sack; then he made himself a seat on the corner of the chest, much wondering what he should do for his own.

It was a glorious morning. He could hear the bleating of the calves in the farm-yard and the far-off tinkle from the sheepfold; but the big brown hills, with their rocky steeps, attracted the most of his attention, until he heard the shrill voices of the Kafir servants as they went about their daily work. Then Jack shrank back shyly, and contented himself with stroking Vickel's wings. It was grievous to see how her beautiful feathers were burnt and singed.

Jack tried to make her look a little better by brushing off the browned tips, when the tilt was suddenly parted at the back of the waggon and a smiling baby face peeped in; for when the Boer's children met at their early breakfast, they could talk of nothing but the little English boy. Zyl had already ascertained that he was still asleep in the waggon, and Genderen was looking forward to carrying him some breakfast. The presence of the little stranger seemed to them a very pleasant adventure. Jack's companion on the sheep-skin, baby Sannie, felt really aggrieved to think she was the only one in the household who had not seen him. But their mother charged them on no account to waken the poor child.

Still Zyl thought there could be no harm in letting his little sister have just one peep at their sleepy visitor. So when they ran out to play, he mounted her on his shoulder. Away they went through the gate, and climbing up the back of the waggon, startled Jack, who had never seen so young a child before. He paused in his grooming, lost in admiring surprise. It was a dear little face, in spite of its broad Dutch features, so sunburned and freckled; and the big blue eyes that stared at Jack looked so innocent under the mass of flaxen curls, which completely covered the low forehead, that he involuntarily exclaimed, "You little dear."

But Vickel was far from sharing her master's feelings. Her head was still full of thieves; and making a dart forward, she struck angrily at the infantine intruder. Zyl dragged his sister backwards, but Vickel had caught the blue-checked pinafore in her beak.

Jack was frightened. He sprang upon Vickel's back, and seizing her head with both his hands, tried to make her let it go. Zyl tugged with all his might; but Vickel was stronger than either of them. Zyl growled out something Jack could not understand. Little Sannie screamed vociferously. Before the boys could extricate the pinafore, it was torn to ribbons. Jack dared not release his bird, for fear she should fly on to Zyl, who had struck at her more than once with his clenched fists.

Sannie was more frightened than hurt. Zyl had tumbled her down on the ground whilst he tried to fasten the back of the tilt, for fear Vickel should swoop down upon them, in spite of Jack's endeavours to restrain her.

"Is your sister hurt?" asked Jack repeatedly, but Zyl only answered with angry snorts. He grasped Sannie's hand and ran off with her, banging the gate after them, whilst Jack alternately scolded and soothed his refractory pet.

"O Vickel," he groaned, "what have you done? That boy will tell his mother what a dreadful bird you've been; and then I don't know what will happen to us, and father is not here."

Jack laid his head on the ostrich's neck, and fairly sobbed in his dread of the consequences. The sound of a scolding voice in the farm-yard made him look up. As he was still perched on Vickel's back, he had a good view of the farm-house and its surroundings, through the slit which Vickel had made in the tilt on the previous day.

Sannie's screams had brought one of the Kafir maids to see what was the matter. She snatched the torn pinafore off the unfortunate little toddler, and held it up before Tante Milligen, whose head appeared above the half-door of the house at the same moment. The Dutch mother left her kneading trough, and tucking up the corner of her wide white apron, rushed out upon her youngest born, scolding and threatening at the top of her voice. Behind her crept Genderen, in her long blue and white checked pinafore reaching to the toes of her home-made sheep-skin shoes. The brown sun-kappje she was tying on very much resembled the head-gear of a Sister of Mercy.

Jack would have laughed at the grotesque figures before him if he had not been so full of consternation, a feeling which Genderen's pale face seemed to reciprocate.

"Footsack, Zyl," she cried.

And now Jack laughed in spite of his anxieties as the meaning of the queer Dutch word was made plain to him; for in accordance with his sister's advice, Zyl made a dart at the side gate into the farm-yard, but the Kafir maid frustrated his intention by setting her back against it.

The vocabulary of the scold in Dutch is by no means a limited one, and Tante Milligen seemed as if she would exhaust it all in her indignation at the state of Sannie's pinafore.

Poor Sannie's words were rendered unintelligible by her sobs; and Zyl was caught beyond all hope of escape. He stood before his angry mother, stolid and sullen as a young buffalo, and never opened his lips, whilst she knocked their heads together until Genderen began to cry in sympathy. But not one word of excuse or complaint would the Dutch boy utter.

How Jack's heart warmed to him, for he could so easily have told of Vickel and screened himself; but to see the baby struck was more than Jack could endure. He sprang off Vickel's back, and scooping great handfuls of mealies out of the hole in the sack, he left her eating them, and rushed to the gate. But Zyl, in his fear that the ostrich might follow him, had fastened it inside.

Jack knocked and shouted, "Mrs. Immerseel, Mrs. Immerseel, don't beat that poor little baby. Oh, pray don't. She could not help it. Let me in, and I'll tell you how it happened."

The Kafir maid opened the gate in answer to his summons; but, oh, it was dreadful to find no one could understand a single word he said. He marched up to Tante Milligen, and lifted his pent-house of a hat, as he had seen his father lift his, and held out his hand. But, alas, it looked so dirty, he drew it back again in disgust.

Although Jack's attempted explanations were all in vain, his sudden appearance created a diversion. Tante Milligen, supposing he had come to beg for a breakfast, smiled at him good-naturedly, and pointed to the kitchen-door. Jack shook his head, and tried to get between her and little Sannie.

"What can the child want?" thought the Dutch woman. "Something wrong with his father's beasts perhaps." So she sent her Kafir maid to see.

Off bounded Jack as soon as he perceived her destination, for he knew if he did not get to the waggon before her, Vickel would be sure to fly at her. He was white as ashes with fear as he scrambled on to the low, broad wheel, and stood with one eye on the ostrich and the other on the Kafir.

Jack half hoped, as they were both African born, they might take to each other. He was right so far; the Kafir was too wise to interfere with his bird, and Vickel, who was still quietly feeding, took no notice of her. The maid looked all round, saw that the oxen were quietly grazing, and feeling convinced there was nothing amiss, turned to Jack. He did not like the queer black creature, with her bare arms and legs, to stare at him so. She was not like his yellow-faced Tottie, who always wore a woman's gown, and on Sundays a clean white cap as well; and from this semi-savage, in her scarlet blanket, he shrank. Why wouldn't she go away?

It was very horrid to be stared at, so Jack got into the waggon to escape from those glittering, bead-like eyes, and away went the Kafir singing.

Her song called forth a burst of laughter from a Hottentot herdsman, who was coming to lead the oxen to water. Happily for Jack, he could speak a little English.

"No like de Black Antelope," he said with a grin; "much she likee you. Listen how she go, making songs of 'Dis pretty Ingleese lamb, left alone on de wide, wide veldt.'"

Then Jack laughed in his turn, and was rather glad to hear that she had gone to fetch him some breakfast.

But he could not forget little Sannie. Standing up tip-toe on the top of the chest, he once more reconnoitred the entrance to Jaarsveldt through the slit in the tilt.

Zyl had disappeared, but Genderen was trying to comfort to comfort her little sister. She took her in her arms and carried her round the farm-yard, holding her up to watch the little pigs tumbling one over another in their play. But it was of no use; the pitiful sobs continued. Then Genderen brought her outside the gate to try the diversion of a little walk, pointing out the Englishman's waggon, and trying to teach her to call "Jock! Jock Trairbee!"

Of course, poor Sannie only screamed the louder, and struggling from her sister's arms, ran away. Genderen's freckled face was pink with fatigue.

Jack ran to her help with his "Illustrated News." But Sannie would not look at him; so he took out the loose picture that was folded in it and spread it before them on the grass, with a nod to Genderen, and ran off.

It was happiness to Jack to watch the delight of the sisters from his peep-hole, as they cuddled together with the picture on their knees. There they sat, sucking the thumb of one hand, and tracing with the other the different figures in the picture.

When the Black Antelope returned with a bowl of milk and a hot roaster-cake, Jack felt unable to enjoy his breakfast and do full justice to Tante Milligen's hospitality. His head was aching and his hands were hot, so he sank down in his grassy nest to read his "Illustrated News," and was nearly falling asleep when a great stone was aimed at Vickel's head.

Jack was up in a moment, ready to defend his pet, for he caught sight of Zyl picking up a second stone under the garden wall.

With a great shout of defiance the two boys rushed at each other, and in spite of all Jack's father had said, a fight between English and Dutch was imminent. But Genderen's brown sun-kappje suddenly appeared on the scene, with the Hottentot cow-keeper behind it. The sister was evidently warning and her follower threatening the unmanageable youngster with "ein lecker slaat" when the "oom" came back, if he persisted in annoying the English boy. Zyl bent his head as if he were a young goat about to butt, but never uttered a word even to his sister.

He might throw stones at Vickel by way of revenge for her attack; but, for all that, he was not going to tell tales. Jack grew hot and cold by turns, for he thought there would be no mercy for his bird if it were known that she was the true culprit who had torn the pinafore, and his gratitude to Zyl for so doggedly holding his tongue got the better of his anger. The arm he had raised to strike the stone front the Dutch boy's hand went lovingly round his neck instead. Jack drew himself up beside him with a look at Genderen which said, "We two understand other; just let us alone, please."

Zyl gave him the queerest of glances from the corner of his eye. It was becoming evident to his slow intellect that Jack, having shared in the scrape, was ready to take his share in the punishment also. He rather liked that, and the grip which he gave Jack's other hand was as hearty as it was crushing.