"Oh, Kgar! Sis!" cried the sisters; and at this his mother told him amiably to shut his mouth and go to sleep.
But though she put out the lantern the talk still went on intermittently until replaced by snores.
The boys and the transport-drivers all lay wrapped in their blankets, snoring too. Only afar the oxen could be heard moving as they grazed, and the bell on the neck of one of them clanked restlessly. The fires had died down to dim red spots. The watcher in the bushes was the only one awake in the camp. She feared that if she slept the family in the wagon might be up and away. Her mind was made up to accompany that good-natured-looking woman and her family to Pretoria, since that was where they were bound for. She would follow the wagons and join them when a long way from Bloemfontein, and her tale would be that she belonged to a wagon which had gone on in front. She would pretend that she had got lost, and ask to be taken on to rejoin her relations in Pretoria.
At about eleven o'clock the moon rose, but no one stirred in the camp. Suddenly the figure of a man arose, took a long whip from the side of a wagon, unwound it, walked a little way from the camp, swung it whistling softly round his head for a moment, then sent a frightful report ringing across the veldt. Afterwards he lay down again until a great crackling and trampling and shouting told that the oxen were in the camp with their herders hooting and yelling round them. In a moment other still figures were on their feet; a clamour arose of voices shouting, wooden yokes clattering, dissel-booms creaking; bullocks were called at by their names and sworn at individually:
"Rooi-nek! Yoh Skelpot! com an da!" (Redneck! You tortoise! come on there!)
"Viljoen! Wat makeer jij?" (Viljoen! What's wrong with you?)
Loud blows and kicks were heard and demands for missing oxen.
"Jan, war is de Vaal-pans?" (John, where is the yellow-belly?)
"Ek saal yoh net now slaan, jou faarbont." (I'll strike you in a minute, you baseborn.)
"De verdomder Swart-kop!"