put upon his back before a lot of Kafirs and
white folk too. Perhaps that Jantje is sober by now. I will go and
call him, and we will hear what this story is about his father and his
mother."

Presently he returned followed by the ragged, dirty-faced little
Hottentot, who, looking very miserable and ashamed of himself, took off
his hat and squatted down on the drive, in the full glare of the African
sun, to the effects of which he appeared to be totally impervious.

"Now, Jantje, listen to me," said the old man. "Yesterday you got drunk
again. Well, I'm not going to talk about that now, except to say that if
I hear of your being drunk once more--you leave this place."

"Yes, Baas," said the Hottentot meekly. "I was drunk, though not very; I
only had half a bottle of Cape smoke."

"By getting drunk you made a quarrel with Baas Muller, so that blows
passed between Baas Muller and the Baas here on your account, which was
more than you are worth. Now when Baas Muller had struck you, you said
that he had shot your father and your mother. Was that a lie, or what
did you mean by saying it?"

"It was no lie, Baas," answered the Hottentot excitedly. "I have said
it once, and I will say it again. Listen, Baas, and I will tell you the
story. When I was young--so tall"--and he held his hand high enough
to indicate a Tottie of about fourteen years of age--"we, that is,
my father, my mother, my uncle--a very old man, older than the Baas"
(pointing to Silas Croft)--"were _bijwoners_ (authorised squatters) on
a place belonging to old Jacob Muller, Baas Frank's father, down in
Lydenburg yonder. It was a bush-veldt farm, and old Jacob used to come
down there with his cattle from the High veldt in the winter when there
was no grass in the High veldt, and with him came the Englishwoman, his
wife, and the young Baas Frank--the Baas we saw yesterday."

"How long was all this ago?" asked Mr. Croft.

Jantje counted on his fingers for some seconds, and then held up his
hand and opened it four times in succession. "So," he said, "twenty
years last winter. Baas Frank was young then, he had only a little down
upon his chin. One year when _Oom_ Jacob went away, after the first
rains, he left six oxen that were too _poor_ (thin) to go, with
my father, and told him to look after them as though they were his
children. But the oxen were bewitched. Three of them took the lung-sick
and died, a lion got one, a snake got one, and one ate 'tulip' and