The man explained.
“The floor is the right place for Englishmen and Kafirs,” said the old lady, “but after all he is a man, and perhaps sore with riding. Englishmen always get sore when they try to ride.” Then with startling energy she shouted out:
“Sit!”
“I will show the rooibaatje that he is not the only one with a voice,” she added by way of explanation.
A subdued sniggle followed this sally of wit, during which John took his seat with such native grace as he could command, which at the moment was not much.
“Dear me!” she went on presently, for she was a bit of a humorist, “he looks very dirty and pale, doesn’t he? I suppose the poor thing has been hiding in the ant-bear holes with nothing to eat. I am told that up in the Drakensberg yonder the ant-bear holes are full of Englishmen. They had rather starve in them than come out, for fear lest they should meet a Boer.”
This provoked another snigger, and then the young ladies took up the ball.
“Are you hungry, rooibaatje?” asked one in English.
John was boiling with fury, but he was also starving, so he answered that he was.
“Tie his hands behind him, and let us see if he can catch in his mouth, like a dog,” suggested a gentle youth.