Oom Hans now turned to the trembling Jew, who stood quaking with clasped hands, afraid to run, and afraid to stay.
‘My God, these Boers are terrible when angry,’ he muttered.
‘What do you say?’ roared Oom Hans.
‘I say, sir, that the Boers are the best people in the world, and that the English are dogs.’
‘Say that again, and I shall send a bullet through you in a moment. The English, sir, are our friends, while they live at peace with us, so be careful what you say.’
‘The English are a good people, sir. Oh, yes, they will always be the best friends of the Boers.’
‘Silence, you dog! You say that because you are afraid of my gun. Now, look here, is that your horse there?’
‘Yes, sir, I will make you a present of him, if you want him.’
‘Silence! I will count ten to give you time to get on your horse, and ten to get out of gunshot, after that I fire.’
‘Oh, but, sir, I come to do pisness; I bring you lots of monies. Just listen one word.’