But prickly pear thorns are not picked out of a man’s mouth in one day, especially after they have been planted there in such a wholesale manner, as was the case with Van der Tromp. For days after those thorns would intrude themselves upon the attention of the teacher. Every time he would make sure that not a single thorn was left in his mouth. But suddenly, every half hour or so, while Van der Tromp was eating, singing, or speaking, an expression of agony would pass over his countenance as another of those little demon thorns would make itself felt. And then every other occupation would be suspended while that little thorn was being hunted for.
Of course, Fritz did not think, or expect, his little joke to turn out such a serious matter for the poor teacher. The most he hoped for was that the teacher would pluck the prickly pear, and thus feel the thorns. He never thought that Van der Tromp would bite the fruit. When he saw the agony of Van der Tromp, he was genuinely sorry, and apologised most humbly, but I am afraid he was never forgiven.
CHAPTER III
GOLD BEYOND THE DREAM OF AVARICE—DESPISED
The following day Steve and Fritz went for another walk, farther this time, but alone. Van der Tromp was still occupied in digging out prickly pear thorns.
During the night a heavy thunder storm had raged; the air was pure and fresh, so that the young men walked far out into the veld, as they enjoyed the bright face Nature had put on after the storm.
When they had walked some distance, they met a herder herding some sheep belonging to Fritz’s father. He came up to them, and showed Fritz a bar of metal two feet long and about one inch in diameter, more or less, as it was of irregular thickness.
‘See, baas, what a nice piece of brass I found. The rain of last night had washed it clean, so that I saw it shining amongst the rocks.’
Steve took it from him and examined it closely, and felt the weight of it.
‘Where did you get this, boy?’ he asked.