“Then why were you pretending to interpret his language a few minutes ago?” asked Hendrik.
“I was trying to learn it,” answered Congo, in a tone conveying the belief that he had given a satisfactory answer.
“We have no time to stop here for you to learn a language,” said Hendrik. “And if you can’t converse with the man why did you not say so? How came you to tell us what he was saying a few minutes ago?”
The attention of all was now called to Swartboy, who seemed overpowered with joy.
It was some time before he was able to make himself understood; but at last he was heard to mutter:—
“I tole you that Congo was a ole fool. Now you all see for yourselfs. Look at ’im! Don’t he look four, five, six times fool. I tole ye so.”
“Can you understand what the chief says?” asked Groot Willem.
“Yaas, baas Willem; any Swartman know dat.”
“Then talk to him yourself. You know what we wish to learn from him.”
The Bushman’s features now assumed a quizzically comical expression; and from this the hunters saw that he had become serious.