Old Hendrik's Tales

by Arthur Owen Vaughan

“Course not!” retorted Hendrik, a little scornfully. “Ain’t he a king? Kings don’t mind cows. Not him. He yust make all de animals try deir turn at it, but dese t’ree wand’ry ones dey’d keep gettin’ away, an’ den de animal dat come home wid dem t’ree missin’—well, he’d be a-missin’ too, an’ Ole King Lion he’d be dat much fatter.

“Well, it come Little Hahsie’s turn at last—Klein Hahsie, dat you call Little Hare, dat skellum Little Hare—but he yust prance out behind dem cows in de mawnin’ wid a high ole hop an a skip. He’d show ’em about mindin’ five bally ole cows, he would, ses he. He sticks a green twig in his mouf, an’ he biffs his ole hat down over his eyes, an’ he gets dem cows down in a hook o’ de river an’ squots down on a little koppiekie to watch ’em, all nice an’ all right. ‘Mind five ole cows,’ ses he; ‘by de jimminy, gi’e me sometin’ easier—if dere is any.’

“Well, it did look all serene-o, wid him dis side of ’em an’ de river bent all round ’em on de oder sides, an’ plenty o’ grass an’ water an’ nice trees about. ‘Sho,’ ses he, ‘dem cows stray off? Dey’s got mo’ sense,’ ses he.

“It was yust sich a easy yob dat in a while his eye ’gun a-wanderin’ round to see what else dere is dere besides de cows an’ de rest of it. An’ fust he sees a little bushiekie, wid green leaves like he swears he ain’t seen afore, or leastways he ain’t ’xamined much; so o’ course he hops over to dat an’ pretends to tas’e it, an feel it, an’ turn it over gen’ally.

“Den he sees de blesbuck wanderin’ past, wid de teenty little buckies whimperin’ an’ nosin’ ahter deir mammies, an’ fust he squot an’ watch ’em, an’ den he get to feelin’ cussed, an’ he fair hop round ’em to scare ’em an’ make ’em flurry, till deir mammies turn round an’ chase him out o’ dat. Next he slant his eye at de spruit an’ tinks he’ll yust sa’nter down an’ frow stones at Ou’ Sculpat, de Tortoise, an’ ax him what’s his latest time for a mile wid a flyin’ start. Den he can hear Ou’ Sculpat use some rocky ole words.

“But when he gets down to de spruit Ou’ Sculpat ain’t dere at all, an’ dat make him hoppin’ mad. He’s yust dat mad he chucks stones into de water an’ savages de reeds for anoder five minutes on end. Den he looks up an’ dere he sees de honey-bird a-whickerin’ about. ‘Whatto!’ ses Hahsie. ‘Dere’s honey somewheres. Here’s on to it like one man.’

“Well, he hops on ahter de honey-bird, an’ he hops on an’ on, tinkin’ every mile he’s gun’ to get to dat honey soon. An’ den here comes a man ridin’ along, an’ he sees de honey-bird too, an’ he ’gins to folio’ as well. Hahsie looks at him once, an’ he sizes his face up. ‘Dat lets me out,’ ses he to hisse’f. ‘Dat face ain’t a-gun’ to stand me gettin’ any o’ dat honey. I’d about better turn back.’

“So he turns back, but de day’s got dat hot an’ de shade under de little bushiekies is dat cool, he tinks he’ll rest him a little while an’ den go on agen. Wid dat he finds a nice bush an’ squots him down. An’ you know what’s bound to happen den—he pop off to sleep.

“Along in de afternoon, when de day gets a bit cooler, he wake up an’ open his eyes. ‘Hello!’ ses he, ‘where’s dem cows by dis time?’ Den he rub his eyes an’ he grin. ‘One ting anyhow,’ ses he, ‘if Ole King Lion don’t eat again till he eat me for dis, den he’s mighty liable to die o’ starvation.’

“But when he gets back to de hook o’ de river, dere’s de two quiet ole cows all right, but de t’ree wand’ry ones—well, dey’s wandered. He look round an’ round, an’ he hop dis way an’ dat, but he don’t find hide nor hair o’ dem t’ree, till at last it’s about time to be startin’ for de kraal wid dese two. He takes one more long ole look round, but it ain’t no use, it don’t find dem cows, an’ so he starts dese two for home.