“Yes, very good on the whole, thanks. It’s rather dry up Colesberg way, and the locusts have been bad there, but my oxen were in good order, and I came through quick.”
He had just returned from a transport-riding trip up the country.
“H’m! By the way, did your father manage to get back his horses?”
“No. He and Bob followed them as far as Tembani. The fellows had got a forged pass (Note 1) and walked through right under the agent’s nose. After that the spoors separated; the thieves had taken two of the horses in the direction of the Tambookie country, the other towards Sandili’s; and, of course, at every kraal they inquired at—for the spoor was soon lost—the headmen did their best to put them on the wrong track, although they set up to be no end sympathetic. We’ve got a spy down in the Gaika location, but a fat lot of good he’ll do; he’s sure to be in league with the rest,” growled Will, who was not in the best of humours.
“No, you can’t do much when the whole country is in league against you. We’re quite at their mercy. I’m afraid you’ll never see a hoof of them again,” said the older man.
“Of course not. Three as good all-round horses as we ever had on the place, though Bles was a dev—er—a brute for bucking, at times. By-the-bye, Mr Brathwaite, there seems to be an awful lot of stock-lifting going on just now. Seven of Dirk van Heerden’s best cows cleared off last week, and not a head of them has he been able to get back, except one which had dislocated its shoulder, and the niggers assegaied it to save its life.”
“Well, it’s time to count the sheep. You’ll stay to night, Will?”
He was delighted.
“Er—thanks—I—er, that is—”
“All right. Better put your horse in the enclosure; only mind the bird.”