“No Doppie here. Over this way and that way.”
I yielded to his guidance, with my heart throbbing heavily now; but the feeling of excitement returned as I began to act, and in a few minutes I found that something big and dark had loomed up in front, which I knew to be a great tilted wagon.
Joeboy bore to the left, and we walked silently on together till we had passed the rears of six of the great vehicles drawn up at a fair distance apart, but pretty regularly side by side. I now realised that, though the wagons, as seen through the glass, had appeared to be in touch with the Boer troops, they really formed a line some distance in front.
From that moment everything seemed to be like a curious waking dream, in which I was the chief actor; for, passing the last tail and going forward, I walked with Joeboy to the front, all being silent about the wagons. From beyond these came the peculiarly soft, chewing sound of working jaws; and I made out, partly by hearing and partly by the peculiar but not unpleasant odour, that there were the teams in their places, all the great oxen crouching down, from the pair on either side of the dissel-boom or pole to the foremost couple right in front, pair after pair, along the trek-tow—that is, the great rope which, for the team, serves as a continuation of the pole.
“Um?” whispered Joeboy as I stood listening to the dull cud-chewing of the resting beasts. “Now make um come out.”
I hesitated for a moment or two; then I made the great effort to play my part as I felt it ought to be acted, and stood alongside the black and close up to the wagon, between the wheels. Then taking a long breath, and wondering at myself the while, I stooped down so that my voice might go well beneath; but paused as I was about to speak, for I could hear in duplicate a deep guttural snore. At that moment Joeboy pinched my arm; and, drawing a deep breath, I growled out in the best imitation I could of the Boer Dutch:
“Now then; rouse up, you lazy black beggars! Rouse up and trek!”
My heart sank as the last word passed my lips.
“Suppose they are not Kaffirs?” I thought.
There was not a sound, and Joeboy again pinched my arm.