"Well, Peter, you fought the battle and mastered yourself, and there is no reason why you should not do it again. It is better to be a free man than a slave."
"How slave, master?" Peter asked puzzled.
"Every man is a slave who allows himself to be mastered by drink. It is of no use to say, 'I will only have a drop.' It is ten times more difficult to stop then than it is at first. Now, Peter, you have done me a great service—a very great service, but I shall have done you quite as good a one if I can persuade you to give up drink altogether. Then when I part from you, I shall be always able to think of you as doing well among your own people, instead of working in rags somewhere for a day's pay."
"Peter will try, master; he will try hard. Every time he smells gin, he will say to himself, 'Baas Yorke tell me, that ruin me if I touch it; and him say true, I will not touch it.'"
"That is right, Peter."
"Shall I smash the bottle now, baas?"
"Smash it when we get into camp. It is good for medicine, but very bad as drink. We may have to sleep near the river, and perhaps in wet clothes. Besides, it is better for you to carry it with you without touching it. You see that you have begun to get the better of it. I shall not say no to you if you ask me for some, but it will please me very much if you don't. Now, let us eat our biscuit."
When they had finished their simple meal, Yorke said: "I have had my sleep out, and it is evident that you cannot have slept much, therefore you may as well get a good sleep before we start. I will keep watch."
Late in the afternoon. Yorke saw the Boers straggling back. They had no doubt come to the conclusion that he and those with him were not hiding out on the plain.