He excited Oscar's mirth every hour in the day, especially when he addressed him as "me lord."
Although Paddy had kissed the blarney stone, there was no blarney about this. He thought that every man who came to Africa to hunt must of necessity be an English nobleman, for he did not believe that anybody else had money to spend in that way.
The offer of ten pounds for the faithful performance of his duties as cook almost took his breath away.
While Oscar was engaged in making ready for his departure two interesting incidents happened.
The first was the arrival of Barlow and his man Thomas, both of whom lived in Maritzburg. They came seated in their rattletrap of a wagon, and drawn by their span of crow-bait oxen, which acted all the time as if they were on the lookout for an excuse to become "rusty."
The driver's arms must have ached, for he was compelled to belabor them continually in order to keep them in motion.
Barlow and his man were not long in finding out how things were going, and when they saw Oscar's outfit, which was fully as expensive and as complete in all its details as any they had ever seen before, they became all the more determined that they would compel him to sell out, so that they could purchase it for a mere tithe of its value.
But they did not know how wary and resolute a boy they had to deal with.
Acting upon Judge Donahue's advice, Oscar put his oxen and horses into the pound every night, and taking Paddy O'Brian into his confidence, ordered him to sleep in the wagon.
Paddy, being always ready for a row, willingly complied, and it would have given him the greatest pleasure to break the head of anybody who ventured to tamper with that vehicle or its cargo.