“No,” I said promptly. “Joeboy can.”
“Wouldn’t do,” said my companion, upon second thoughts. “Those beasts are singing all over the place sometimes, and they might lead us wrong.”
“So would the cry of any animal.”
“Yes,” said Denham thoughtfully. “I don’t know, though. Here, can you suggest something?”
“I can’t do it; but Joeboy can roar like a lion splendidly.”
“Wouldn’t that scare and stampede the bullocks?”
“Oh no,” I said; “the cry would cheat the Boers, perhaps; the bullocks would know better—wouldn’t they, Joeboy?”
“Um? Big trek-ox laugh, and say ‘Gammon,’” replied the black, showing his glistening teeth.
“Very well, then; when you are getting within earshot let Joeboy give three roars half-a-minute apart.”
“Right,” I said.—“You understand, Joeboy?”