There was; and Congo was the first to discover it. The man had gone in the direction of the river.
“Water, water!” exclaimed the Kaffir; “he want water.”
The truth of this remark was soon made evident; for, on following the stranger with their eyes, they saw him rush into the stream, plunge his head under water and commence filling himself in the same manner as he would have done, had his body been a bottle!
Hendrik and Arend, having heard the reports of the roer, feared that something might have gone wrong, and galloped forward, leaving Hans and Swartboy to bring up the pack-horses.
They reached the scene just as the African, after having quenched his thirst, had returned to the tree where the young hunter and Congo had remained.
Without taking the slightest notice of either of the others, the man walked up to Groot Willem, and, with an air of dignity, natural to most semi-barbarous people, began making a speech. Grateful for having been relieved from his imprisonment, he evidently believed that duty required him to say something, whether it might be understood or not.
“Can you understand him, Congo?” asked Willem.
“Yaas, a little I can,” answered the Kaffir; and in his own peculiar manner he interpreted what the African had to say.
It was simply that he owed his life to Groot Willem, and that the latter had only to ask for whatever he required, and it should be given him.
“That is certainly promising a good deal,” said the sarcastic Hendrik, “and I hope that Willem will not be too greedy in his request, but will leave something for the rest of mankind.”