“It’s all ready, John,” she said.
“That’s right, my dear,” said my father; and then, as if to himself, “I might have known.” Turning to the short, thick-set Dutch Boer in charge of the wagon, father told him to go to the big wagon-sheet supported on poles, which we used for a dining-room, and then clapped the big black on the shoulder, bidding him go too.
“Get two spades, Val,” he said as soon as the men were gone; “and you, Bob, come off that bundle of trees. It wasn’t sent all these thousands of miles by ship and wagon to make you a horse.”
I fetched the spades while my father went on unpacking the little trees, Bob being set to help by unlacing the string from the pleasant-smelling Russian mats. Before the new arrivals were cast loose, the big black, with a tremendous sandwich of bread and bacon, had joined us, and showed at once that he meant to help. After taking a big bite, he put his sandwich down while he carried trees to the places where they were to be planted, and after putting them down, returned for another bite, giving me a grin every time.
Then the spades were taken up; and by that time the Boer had eaten and drunk as much as he could, and gone to sit on the big chest in front of the wagon, where he filled his pipe and began to smoke, never offering to help, but watching us with his eyes half-closed.
“Here, steady, nigger!” said my father, smiling; “we’re not going to bury bullocks. Little holes like this just where I put in these pegs.—You keep him in hand, Val. I never saw such a strong fellow before.”
The great black fellow grinned and dug away, making the rich and soft dry earth fly as he turned it out; while he laughed with delight every time I checked him, and followed me to another place.
By that time he had finished his sandwich, and a thought occurred to me.
“Here, Bob,” I said; “put down those pegs”—for he was marching about with us, looking very serious, with the bundle of pegs under his arm. “Go and ask Aunt Jenny to cut another big bit of bread and a very large slice of bacon, and bring ’em here.”
Bob ran off, and the big black looked at me, threw back his head, and laughed, and laughed again, as he drove the spade deeply into the rich loamy soil; and when the bread and bacon came he laughed, and bit with those great white teeth of his, and munched and chewed like the lying-down oxen, and dug and dug, till my father said, “No more to-night,” and bade me carry in the spades.