“Yes: go and begin milking the cows. I’ll send Tant to you directly.”
The man showed his teeth, and stood shaking his head.
To his utter astonishment Dyke shifted his grasp, and caught him by the throat with one hand, and shook his fist in his face.
“Look here,” he said; “you can understand English when you like, and you’ve got to understand it now. Baas Joe’s sick.”
“Baas Joe go die,” said the man.
“Baas Joe go live,” cried Dyke fiercely, “and he’ll flog you well if you don’t behave yourself. You go and milk those two cows, and then feed the ostriches and horses, or I’ll fetch Duke to watch you, so look out.”
Jack’s jaw dropped at the mention of the dog, and he hurried away; while Dyke, after a glance at the wagon, which stood just where it had been dragged with its load, was about to re-enter the house, when he caught sight of three Kaffirs watching him from beyond one of the ostrich-pens.
“Who are you?” he said to himself. “What do they want?”
He went quickly toward them, but they turned and fled as hard as they could go, assegai in hand, and the boy stopped and watched them for some time, thinking very seriously, for he began to divine what it all meant.
“They have heard from Tant that Joe is dying, and I suppose I’m nobody. They are hanging about to share everything in the place with our two; but—”