“Get up,” he said sternly, and as the boy did not move at once he jerked him to his feet.
“Yoh!” he exclaimed, with a look of astonishment.
“Now walk;” and Frank pointed to the clump of bushes; and the Kaffir, understanding from the gesture, sullenly went forward.
“What is it?” asked Webster, coming out of the shelter with Miss Anstrade.
“I’m about to teach this fellow a lesson, which he needs, as he is evidently under the impression that we are greenhorns.”
The whole party continued, the black suspicious and sullen, Miss Anstrade and Webster curious, and Hume with his brows knitted. On reaching the bush the Kaffir stopped and pointed to the oxen, which were grazing contentedly.
Hume glanced back to the waggon, took in the direction taken by the two horsemen, then rounded the bush, and walked straight across to a point beyond the ridge which intercepted the road. There he stopped, and catching the black by his arm, directed his attention to hoof-marks in the dust, and the spoor of an in-toed native foot.
“What did you say to the baas?” he asked.
The Kaffir put on an innocent look, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Measure his foot, Jim!”