“Jack,” he said, “the baas is very bad. You must go back to Morgenstern’s and take this.”
He handed the tied-up paper to the Kaffir, who took it, turned it over, and then handed it back, looking at his young master in the most helplessly stupid way.
Dyke repeated the order, and pointed toward the direction from which they had come, forcing the letter into Jack’s hand.
It was returned, though, the next moment.
“Jack bring wagon all alone,” he said.
“Yes, I know; but you must go back again. Take plenty of mealies, and go to Morgenstern’s and give him that.”
“Jack bring wagon all alone,” the black said again; and try how Dyke would, he did not seem as if he could make the Kaffir understand.
In despair he turned to Tanta Sal, and in other words bade her tell her husband go back at once; that he might take a horse if he thought he could ride one; if not, he must walk back to Morgenstern’s, and carry the letter, and tell him that the baas was bad.
“Baas Joe go die,” said the woman, nodding her head.
“No, no; he will live if we help,” cried Dyke wildly. “Now, tell Jack he must go back at once, as soon as he has had some mealies.”