“Yes,” I answered; “but, mynheer, be so good as to have those geese collected and put upon one side. I don’t want them mixed up with mine, if I am lucky enough to bring any down.”
He nodded, and some Kaffirs were sent to bring in the geese. Several of these, I noted, were still flapping and had to have their necks twisted, but at the time I did not go to look at them. While this was being done I called to Retief, and begged him to examine the powder and bullets I was about to use.
“What’s the good?” he asked, looking at me curiously. “Powder is powder, and a bullet is a bullet.”
“None, I dare say. Still, oblige me by looking at them, my uncle.”
Then at my bidding Hans took six bullets and placed them in his hand, begging him to return them to us as they were wanted.
“They must be a great deal smaller than Hernan’s,” said Retief, “who, being stronger, uses a heavier gun.”
“Yes,” I answered briefly, as Hans put the charge of powder into the rifle, and drove home the wad. Then, taking a bullet from Retief’s hand, he rammed that down on to the top of it, capped the gun, and handed it to me.
By now the geese were coming thick, for the flight was at its full. Only, either because some of those that had already passed had sighted the Kaffirs collecting the fallen birds and risen—an example which the others noted from afar and followed—or because in an unknown way warning of their danger had been conveyed to them, they were flying higher and faster than the first arrivals.
“You will have the worst of it, Allan,” said Retief. “It should have been shot and shot about.”
“Perhaps,” I answered, “but that can’t be helped now.”