The company around the pit was then joined by a party not hitherto on the ground. It consisted of Hans with Swartboy and the other followers of the expedition. They had extracted the tusks of their elephant, lashed them with rheims to the pack-saddles of two horses, and brought them along.
“What is all this about?” asked Hans. “Can’t you kill that elephant? I’ve heard several shots.”
“They will not allow us to try,” replied Groot Willem. “A chief is trying to kill it with an old musket, and will neither allow me to fire, nor that well-armed gentleman standing near him.” Willem pointed to him who carried the gun without a lock.
At this moment, a communication was made to the Kaffir by the native chief. Annoyed at his want of success, he had some doubts as to his weapon being what had been represented by the smouse from whom he had purchased it. He wished to make a comparison of its destructive power with one of their guns, and Groot Willem was invited to take a shot at the elephant.
“But, baas Willem,” said Congo, as he finished this communication, “you not do that, you not shoot the elephant.”
“Why?” asked Willem, in surprise.
“You kill um with you roer, and then they want from you. They want it, and sure take it.”
“Take what—the elephant?”
“No, baas Willem, the roer,” answered the Kaffir.
Though not afraid of having his gun taken from him, Groot Willem and his companions were unwilling to have any difficulty with the blacks; and the invitation of the chief was courteously declined. The excuse made was that, after the failure of the great man himself, any similar attempts on their part would certainly be unsuccessful.