d the voices.
One was that of the Major's nephew, and it was raised in fine old
British imprecation. The other was that of a native, and was volubly
expostulative--in its own tongue. Then I came in view of their owners,
and heard at the same time another sound--that of a hard smack, followed
by another. For background to the scene the fence and gate of a
sheep-kraal.

The native was a youth, similar to those who had called at my store that
afternoon. Unarmed he was no sort of match for the powerful and
scientific onslaught of his chastiser. He had nimbly skipped out of
harm's way and was volubly pouring forth abuse and threats of vengeance.

"What on earth--Are you at it again, Sewin?" I sung out. "Great Scott,
man, you'll never keep a boy on the place at this rate! What's the row
this time?"

"Hallo Glanton! That you? Row? Only that when I tell this cheeky
silly idiot to do anything he stands and grins and doesn't do it. So I
went for him."

The tailing off of the remark was not quite suitable for publication, so
I omit it.

"That all he did?" I said, rather shortly, for I was out of patience
with this young fool.

"All? Isn't that enough? Damn his cheek! What business has he to grin
at me?"

"Well you wouldn't have had him scowl, would you?"

"I'd have hammered him to pulp if he had."

"Just so. You may as well give up all idea of farming here at this
rate, Sewin, if you intend to keep on on that tack. The fellow didn't
do it, because in all probability he hadn't the ghost of a notion what
you were telling him to do. Here. I'll put it to him."

I did so. It was even as I had expected. The boy didn't understand a
word of English, and young Sewin couldn't speak a word of Zulu--or at
any rate a sentence. I talked to him, but it was not much use. He
would leave, he declared. He was not going to stand being punched. If
he had had an assegai or a stick perhaps the other would not have had
things all his own way, he added meaningly.

In secret I sympathised with him, but did not choose to say so. What I
did say was:

"And you would spend some years--in chains--mending the roads and
quarrying stones for the Government? That would be a poor sort of
satisfaction, would it not?"

"_Au_! I am not a dog," he answered sullenly. "Tyingoza is my chief.
But if the Government says I am to stand being beaten I shall cross
Umzinyati this very night, and go and _konza_ to Cetywayo. Now, thi