"Oh! you want to see me run, do you?" said Hans, skipping back a few
yards with wonderful agility. "Then look!"

Thus speaking he lowered his head and charged like a buffalo. Fair
in the middle he caught that white man, causing him to double up, fly
backwards and land with a most resounding splash in the deepest part of
the muddy sluit. Here I may remark that, as his shins are the weakest,
a Hottentot's head is by far the hardest and most dangerous part of him.
Indeed it seems to partake of the nature of a cannon ball, for,
without more than temporary disturbance to its possessor, I have seen a
half-loaded wagon go over one of them on a muddy road.

Having delivered this home thrust Hans bolted round a corner and
disappeared, while I waited trembling to see what happened to his
adversary. To my relief nearly a minute later he crept out of the sluit
covered with mud and dripping with water and hobbled off slowly down the
street, his head so near his feet that he looked as though he had been
folded in two, and his hands pressed upon what I believe is medically
known as the diaphragm. Then I also went upon my way roaring with
laughter. Often I have heard Hottentots called the lowest of mankind,
but, reflected I, they can at any rate be good friends to those who
treat them well--a fact of which I was to have further proof ere long.

By the time I reached my house and had filled my pipe and sat myself
down in the dilapidated cane chair on the veranda, that natural reaction
set in which so often follows rejoicing at the escape from a great
danger. It was true that no one believed I had cheated them over that
thrice-accursed gold mine, but how about other matters?