“Humph! I don’t see much difference in it,” said Lennox, taking up a few grains and following his friend’s example.
“No?” said the Boer, chuckling as he scooped up a double handful and tossed it up, to shine like gold in the light. “You are not a farmer, and have not grown thousands of sacks of it. I have.”
He drew the mouth of the sack together again and tied it with its white string, when it too was borne off through the open doorway to follow its predecessors.
“That roof sound?” said the Boer, pointing up at the corrugated iron sheeting.
“Oh yes, that’s all right,” said the sergeant.
“Good,” said the Boer. “Pity to let rain come through on grain like that. Make it swell and shoot.”
The first wagon was emptied and the second begun, the Boers working splendidly till it was nearly emptied; and then the cornet turned to Captain Roby.
“Don’t you want some left out,” he said, “to use at once?”
“Yes,” said the captain; “leave out six, and we’ll hand them over to the bakers and cooks.”
Three of the white-tied and three of the black-tied sacks were selected by the field-cornet, who told his men to shoulder them, and they were borne off at once to the iron-roofed hut which was used as a store. Then the wagons being emptied, they were drawn on one side, and the captain turned to consult Lennox about what hut was to be apportioned to the Boers for quarters.