ome amusement, but I had laid a stern and uncompromising embargo upon
any approach even to practical joking. So he would roam off with a
rifle or shot gun, and although I was anxious lest he should get into
some mischief or other yet he seemed not to. Now he welcomed the idea
of clearing out, when we talked things over. To my surprise he
propounded an idea when I was telling him how our trade had come to a
standstill.

"What if that sweep whose head I punched should be at the bottom of it?"
he said. "Dolf Norbury, I mean?"

I thought there might be something in it. However if it were true, he
was bound to have gone to work in some such way that it would be
impossible to prove anything, and even if we did, it was hard to see
what we could do.

"Do? Why call round and punch his head again, of course," he answered
briskly.

"That wouldn't help us to recover our trade. Besides Dolf Norbury isn't
the sort to let himself be caught that way twice running. This time it
would be a case of shooting on sight."

"That's a game two can play at," said Falkner.

"Yes," I answered, "but in this case it's a game in which he holds all
the hand. It's clear that he has some following, and we have a lot of
cattle to drive. Well, while we were settling accounts with him his, or
rather Mawendhlela's, rips would have no trouble in clearing these off
to some part of the country where we should never see a hoof of them
again."

"But would they have the cheek to do that?"

"Wouldn't they? And this is a time when neither the King nor any of the
chiefs would be over-keen to interfere in a quarrel between two white
men. Let them settle it themselves is what would be said and meanwhile
we should have lost all we came up for."

"Damn!"

"I echo that sentiment most fervently, but it can't be helped," I said.
"As it is I've a notion we shall have to round up our belongings extra
tight till we are clear of the country."

"Oh well. Let's make the best of it and sit tight here a week or so
longer, Glanton. I'm beginning to enjoy this shooting among rocks.
These klip-springers are such cute little devils. It's more fun
shooting them than it used to be markhor, and nothing like the fag."

Falkner was a capital shot with rifle and bird gun alike, and one of his
good points was that he was a keen and thorough sportsman. That being
the case he had been able to find game up here where one less keen would
have given up in disgust,