“Um!” said the great fellow; “dat’s all right.”
“But you would be so much use to my father, Joe, to manage the bullocks in the wagon.”
“No,” he said. “No bullock. Boer boy take ’em all away. Boss John no got nothing soon.”
“You are sure my father said you were to go with me, Joeboy?” I said after a few minutes’ pause.
“Um,” he said, nodding his head fiercely. “Say, ‘Take care my boy, Joeboy.’ Joeboy take care Boss Val.”
He caught up his shield and sprang to his feet, with the assagais trembling in his big hand, looking as if he could be a terrible adversary in a close conflict, though helpless against modern weapons of war.
This thought made me think of myself and my own position.
“Very well, Joeboy. I say you shall come with me.”
He nodded.
“But you’ll have to lend me one of your assagais till I can get a rifle.”