“Are you going to unload?” asked Walter. “That Boer says he doesn’t want anything.”
“Oh, he don’t know whether he does or not,” replied Mack. “That’s what they all say at first, only they generally say it in a more friendly manner. Wait till the women see what I have to show them, and perhaps he will change his mind.”
“He’s a surly old rascal,” said Eugene.
“That’s true,” answered Mack. “I don’t much like the way he welcomed us. We must make a friend of him if we can, for he’s a field cornet.”
“What’s that?”
“A sort of magistrate. He’s a big man here, and the other farmers will be likely to do just as he does. If he treats us well and trades with us, the others will do the same; but if he holds off and acts sulky, we might as well pack up and go on to the Griquas, for we shall get no cattle.”
“What do you suppose makes him act so?” asked Bob. “The others have all seemed glad to see us.”
“Oh, he knows that we want ivory as well as cattle, and he is afraid we’ll sell guns and powder to the natives. He may take it into his stupid head to tell us that we mustn’t go any farther.”
“What will we do in that case?”
“Pay no attention to him. He can’t raise men enough in the settlement to turn us back—our twelve men would make a pretty good show drawn up in line—and before he can send off for help, we’ll be miles in the Griqua country, where he dare not follow us. I don’t much like that move either.”