At last the time came.
“Home, little un?” said Emson laconically.
“Yes: Old England now,” said the great strapping fellow six feet high. “Everything has changed, and I don’t like the people who come always hanging about.”
So they rode away one day, with Duke and the Kaffir at the head of the team, and Tanta Sal seated in the wagon-box behind, smiling and happy at the thought of the change, and giving the two young lions in their cage a scrap from time to time.
The homeward-bound pilgrims reached old Morgenstern’s farm, where they were warmly welcomed, Tanta Sal arriving just at the right time.
“Vor you see we are gedding ferry old beobles now, mein sohn,” said Morgenstern; “und as I am a ridge man, I do not like to zee mein old vomans vork zo hart.—Aha! und zo yo dake die gubs mit you?”
“Yes,” said Dyke, “we are going to try and get them to England as a present for the Zoo.”
“Zo!” said the old man.
Tanta Sal smiled contentedly when they rode off, a week later. She had no compunction about staying, while the Kaffir man was to come back with the empty wagon and team when the pilgrims reached the big town, from whence travelling was easy to the Cape.
And as the brothers mounted to go, Emson said: