Part 44 (2/2)
”Don't shake light out!” was the answer. ”Olebo going make big fire, roast Tant' Ann! Big fat witch, soon burn!”
As the Kaffir finished he lowered one hand, leaving the match blazing brightly, and he was in the act of leaning in to apply it to the little heap of matches he had placed upon the loose straw mattress, when a sharp s.n.a.t.c.h at his shoulder jerked him back, and the burning splint dropped to the ground.
”Ah-h-ah!” growled the man savagely, and he drew another match across the box he still held.
”None of that!” growled Ingleborough sternly.
”Wicked old witch!” said the black, in remonstrance. ”Burn Olebo!
Don't give him enough to eat! No good!”
”You come along,” cried West. ”I can hear the Boers coming fast. Now then, lead the horses clear of the pens!”
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
NIGHT ON THE VELDT.
The Kaffir grunted, and began what Ingleborough afterwards called ”chuntering,” but he obeyed at once, leading the ponies at a quick walk in and out amongst several ostrich enclosures, till they were quite a quarter of a mile from the farm, from which there came the buzz of voices and the occasional stamp of a horse on the still night air.
”No more wire fence!” said their guide, and indicating that they should urge the ponies forward he took his s.h.i.+eld and spears from Ingleborough, caught hold of the mane of West's pony, and then as they broke into a canter, ran lightly by the animal's side, talking softly, and now and then breaking out into a merry laugh.
”Ought burn Tant' Ann!” he said. ”Wicked old witch! Very fat! Make her good vrouw!”
”I'm afraid Jack's morals are sadly in need of improvement, lad,” said Ingleborough at last.
”What a horrible idea!” replied West, with a shudder; ”and the worst of it is that the fellow seems to consider that it would have been a good piece of fun.”
”Yes, it is his nature to, as we are told of the bears and lions in the poems of Dr Watts. I dare say the old woman had been a horrible tyrant to the poor fellow!”
”But the hideous revenge!”
”Which hasn't come off, my lad! But the black scoundrel's ideas are shocking in the extreme, and I would not a.s.sociate with him much in the future. Here! Hi! Olebo, stop!”
The young man drew rein, and the black looked up enquiringly.
”Lie down and listen for the Boers!”
The Kaffir nodded, and trotted a dozen yards away from the side of the ponies, threw himself down, listened, jumped up, and repeated the performance three times at greater distances before returning.
”No hear!” he said. ”Gone other way.”
”It would be safe then to strike a match and look at the compa.s.s,”
suggested West, and, taking out his box, he struck a light, shaded it in his slouch hat, and then held the little pocket compa.s.s to it.
”Well, which way are we going?”
”Due east.”
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