Old Hendrik's Tales

by Arthur Owen Vaughan

The children took up the subject. “Is it goin’ to be just so big wide, Ou’ Ta’?” asked little Annie.

“Well, Ainkye,” answered Old Hendrik, “p’r’aps it ain’t a-goin’ to be yust so wide’s it was when Ou’ Jackalse danced de war-dance, and Ou’ Mensefreiter hit hisse’f on a rock into no bigger’n a water-millon; but it’s a-goin’ to be too full fo’ your daddy to go yust sa’nterin’ troo it.”

“Oh, Ou’ Ta’, you never told us about that Mensefreiter at all,” cried the little girl reproachfully.

“Didn’t I now?” cried Old Hendrik. “Well, I’d ought to anyhow, ’cause it was mighty tough times for Ou’ Jackalse an’ Ou’ Wolf dem days. Besides, dis is de same drift right hyer below.

“You see,” he went on, squaring himself on the sack of mealies which served him for a seat, “times was hard wid all sorts of folk dat year. De rinderpest come along, an’ it just clean out all de game an’ de buck, till Ou’ Jackalse an’ Ou’ Wolf dey may hunt all day an’ dey may hunt all week an’ Sunday, an’ den dey won’t get de shadda of a buck. Dey ha’ to keep on a-drinkin’ water to keep deir tummies from growin’ front an’ back togeder.”

“An what did Missis Jackalse an’ little Ainkye Jackalse do for sometin’ to eat, then?” asked Annie anxiously.

“Oh, dere was no Missis Jackalse den,” answered the old Hottentot cheerily. “Dis was long ’fore that Dis was when Ou’ Jackalse an’ Ou’ Wolf was young fellas, an’ don’t only go roun’ upsittin’ wid de nices’ young misses dey can hear of. An’ it stand ’em in han’ to be young fellas an’ to had no fam’lies; ’cause de young fellas can scratch all day if dey like an’ den dere ain’t nawtin’ to eat.

“Well, you knows Ou’ Jackalse is mighty slim a-gettin’ scoff if dere’s anybody else has some, but it wahnt no use waitin’ to steal what oder folk ain’t polished off, ’cause dere ain’t nawtin’ for oder folk to begin on, let alone to leave for him to sneak it. He yust ha’ to hump hisse’f an’ rustle roun’ if he’s a-gun’ to get anytin’. An’ dis is where Ou’ Jackalse’s bein’ so smart come in handy. Ou’ Wolf he keeps a-gauntin’ an’ a-wobblin’ on ahter de buck he tink he might see over de nex’ rise, but Ou’ Jackalse he yust keep his eye skinned to size up what’s on de yonder side de ridge.

“Well, by’n’by he sees a farm where dere’s a patch o’ to’acco wanted ’tendin’ to mighty bad, an’ de farmer he’s a-leanin’ on de gate an’ first a-lookin’ at de row an’ den a-lookin’ at de hoe, as if fo’ one ting he can’t make up his mind where he’s a-gun’ to begin, an’ as if for anoder ting he can’t yust settle if he’s goin’ to start at all dis mawnin’ nohow.

“Ou’ Jackalse he look, an’ he sit down, an’ he ’gun to brush de grass behin’ him wid his tail, sort o’ slow an’ like he’s tinkin’ pretty deep. He can’t eat tobacco; he know dat, but de man what work in de to’acco he can eat sometin’, an’ sometin’ a long shot better’n to’acco—he eat scoff. So Ou’ Jackalse he make up his mind an’ down he go to de farmer.