Thus Colvin Kershaw to his henchman, Gert Bondelzwart. The latter was a bastard Griqua—an elderly man, of good height and powerful build. He had taken part in the Langeberg rising, but had been “slim” enough to slip away just in time, and had contrived to put a large section of country between himself and the scene of his former misdeeds. At this man Colvin’s neighbours looked askew. He had “schelm” writ large all over his yellow personality, they declared. Colvin himself thought them likely to be right; but then Gert suited him. He was a good servant, and had never given him any trouble. Moreover, he had an idea that the fellow had, for some unaccountable reason, conceived an attachment for himself. Anyway, he did not choose to part with him to please anybody.
“Did you hear what I said, Gert?”
“Ja, sir.”
“Then why the devil don’t you answer, and go and do what I tell you, instead of standing there shaking your silly head as if a bee had stung you in the ear?”
“Krantz Kop is up at the far end of the berg, sir. Boer menschen up there very kwaai.”
“Well? What’s that to you? I didn’t say I wanted an after-rider.”
“Gideon Roux very schelm Boer, sir. Strange things happen at Krantz Kop.”
“Oh, go away, Gert. Get in Aasvogel from the camp—no, he’s still in the stable. Well, give him another bundle, so long.”
“What am I to ride, sir?”
“You to ride? Confound you, I said I didn’t want an after-rider.”