a half (ten miles) from Mooifontein. Can you hold a rifle, Captain? You
look like a bit of a hunter."

"Oh, yes, Meinheer!" said John, delighted at the prospect of some
shooting.

"Ah, I thought so. All you English are sportsmen, though you don't know
how to kill buck. Well now, you take _Oom_ Croft's light Scotch cart and
two good horses, and come over to my place--not to-morrow, for my wife's
cousin is coming to see us, and an old cat she is, but rich; she has a
thousand pounds in gold in the waggon-box under her bed--nor the next
day, for it is the Lord's day, and one can't shoot creatures on the
Lord's day--but Monday, yes, Monday. You will be there by eight o'clock,
and you shall see how to kill vilderbeeste. Almighty! now what can that
jackal Frank Muller have meant? Ah! he is the devil of a man," and,
shaking his head ponderously, the jolly old Boer departed, and presently
John saw him riding away upon a fat little shooting-pony which cannot
have weighed much more than himself, but that cantered off with him on
his fifteen-mile journey as though he were a feather-weight.



CHAPTER IX

JANTJE'S STORY

Shortly after the old Boer had gone, John went into the yard of the
hotel to see to the inspanning of the Cape cart, where his attention
was at once arrested by the sight of a row in active progress--at least,
from the crowd of Kafirs and idlers and the angry sounds and curses