“Baas Joe die?” she said.
“Look here!” roared Dyke fiercely: “don’t you say that to me again. No—No—No—No!”
Tanta Sal stared at him and shook her head.
“Breakfast!” cried Dyke laconically.
That she understood, and Dyke hurried away to take a sharp glance round before going back to his brother’s side.
It was needed. The cows were not milked, and not likely to be; the horses had not been fed, and the ostriches were clamouring for food.
Just then he saw Jack peeping at him from round the corner of one of the sheds; but as soon as he caught sight of his young master, he drew back.
Instead of going on, Dyke darted round to the other side of the building, knowing full well that if he ran after him, Jack would dash off more quickly than he could. So stopping and creeping on over the sand, he peeped round and saw the man before him just about to perform the same act. Consequently Dyke was able to pounce upon the Kaffir, whom he seized by the waist-cloth.
“Here, I want you,” he cried sternly, and in a gruff voice which he hardly knew for his own.
“Baas want?”