hey had left, and
he hesitated.

'It's a lonely place, and they didn't like the life. You see, there
are few white men near, and young fellows want society. They
complained, and were moved on. But the firm didn't think the more of
them.'

I told him I had come out with the new schoolmaster.

'Yes,' he said reflectively, 'the school. That's been vacant pretty
often lately. What sort of fellow is this Wardlaw? Will he stay, I
wonder?'

'From all accounts,' I said, 'Blaauwildebeestefontein does not seem
popular.'

'It isn't. That's why we've got you out from home. The colonial-born
doesn't find it fit in with his idea of comfort. He wants society, and
he doesn't like too many natives. There's nothing up there but natives
and a few back-veld Dutchmen with native blood in them. You fellows
from home are less set on an easy life, or you wouldn't be here.'

There was something in Mr Colles's tone which made me risk another
question.

'What's the matter with the place? There must be more wrong with it
than loneliness to make everybody clear out. I have taken on this job,
and I mean to stick to it, so you needn't be afraid to tell me.'

The manager looked at me sharply. 'That's the way to talk, my lad.
You look as if you had a stiff back, so I'll be frank with you. There
is something about the place. It gives the ordinary man the jumps.
What it is, I don't know, and the men who come back don't know
themselves. I want you to find out for me. You'll be doing the firm
an enormous service if you can get on the track of it. It may be the
natives, or it may be the takhaars, or it may be something else. Only
old Japp can stick it out, and he's too old and doddering to care about
moving. I want you to keep your eyes skinned, and write privately to
me if you want any help. You're not out here for your health, I can
see, and here's a chance for you to get your foot on the ladder.

'Remember, I'm your friend,' he said to me again at the garden gate.
'Take my advice and lie very low. Don't talk, don't meddle with drink,
learn all you can of the native jabber, but don't let on you understand
a word. You're sure to get on the track of something. Good-bye, my
boy,' and he waved a fat hand to me.

That night I embarked on a cargo-boat which was going round the coast
to Delagoa Bay. It is a small world--at least for us far-wandering
Scots. For who should I find when I got on board but my old friend Tam
Dyk