languages are a stiff job. Sesuto is the chief hereabouts, and
I'm told once you've got that it's easy to get the Zulu. Then
there's the thing the Shangaans speak - Baronga, I think they
call it. I've got a Christian Kaffir living up in one of the huts
who comes every morning to talk to me for an hour. You'd
better join me.'

I promised, and in the sweet-smelling dust crossed the road
to the store. Japp was still sleeping, so I got a bowl of mealie
porridge from Zeeta and went to bed.


Japp was sober next morning and made me some kind of
apology. He had chronic lumbago, he said, and 'to go on the bust'
now and then was the best cure for it. Then he proceeded to
initiate me into my duties in a tone of exaggerated friendliness.
'I took a fancy to you the first time I clapped eyes on
you,' he said. 'You and me will be good friends, Crawfurd, I
can see that. You're a spirited young fellow, and you'll stand
no nonsense. The Dutch about here are a slim lot, and the
Kaffirs are slimmer. Trust no man, that's my motto. The firm
know that, and I've had their confidence for forty years.'

The first day or two things went well enough. There was no
doubt that, properly handled, a fine trade could be done in
Blaauwildebeestefontein. The countryside was crawling with
natives, and great strings used to come through from Shangaan
territory on the way to the Rand mines. Besides, there was
business to be done with the Dutch farmers, especially with
the tobacco, which I foresaw could be worked up into a