“I would speak with the Baas, or with you, it is the same thing,” she answered, “and for this reason. I go upon a journey; for myself I have the good black horse which the Baas gave me after I had ridden to warn you in Tiger Kloof yonder, the one that I cured of sickness. But I need another beast to carry pots and food and my servant Zinti, who accompanies me. There is the brown mule which you use little because he is vicious, but he is very strong and Zinti does not fear him. Will you sell him to me for the two cows I earned from the Kaffir whose wife I saved when the snake bit her? He is worth three, but I have no more to offer.”
“Whither do you wish to journey, Sihamba?” I asked.
“I follow my mistress to the dorp,” she answered.
“Did she bid you follow her, Sihamba?”
“No! is it likely that she would think of me at such a time, or care whether I come or go? Fear not, I shall not trouble her, or put her to cost; I shall follow, but I shall not be seen until I am wanted.”
Now I had made up my mind to gainsay Sihamba, not that I could find any fault with her plan, but because if such arrangements are to be made, I like to make them myself, as is the business of the head of the house. I think Sihamba guessed this; at any rate she answered me before I spoke, and that in an odd way, namely, by looking first at the swallow’s nest, then at the blooming bough of the peach tree, and lastly into the far distances of air.
“It was the black crow that drove the hawk away,” she said, reflectively, as though she were thinking of something else, “though I think, for my eyes are better than yours, that the hawk killed the crow, or perhaps they killed each other; at the least I saw them falling to the earth beyond the crest of the mountain.”
At this I was about to break in angrily, for if there was one thing in the world I hated it was Sihamba’s nonsense about birds and omens and such things, whereof, indeed, I had had enough on the previous night, when she made that lump Jan believe that he saw visions in a bowl of water. And yet I did not—for the black crow’s sake. The cruel hawk had seized the swallow which I loved, and borne it away to devour it in its eyrie, and it was the crow that saved it. Well, the things that happened among birds might happen among men, who also prey upon each other, and—but I could not bear the thought.
“Take the mule, Sihamba,” I said; “I will answer for it to the Baas. As for the two cows, they can run with the other cattle till your return.”
“I thank you, Mother of Swallow,” she answered, and turned to go, when I stopped her and asked: