May shook his head very solemnly, and then begged the “Masters” to follow him, and he would show them who had lifted the pistol.
The bushman led them through a mass of tangled underwood, to a copse all interlaced with wreaths of starry jessamine and wild convolvulus, and softly putting aside a geranium-bush, entered the covert, followed by the others.
Bending low, and creeping after him, they found themselves soon in the centre of the thicket, surprised to see scattered about fragments of bread and meat, and some broken bottles; in short, these were the débris of a meal eaten on the spot.
Lifting up a bough, May showed them a young Kafir stretched on the grass, and wrapped in profound repose; near him were three assegais. He lay with his head supported by his dusky arm, his dark and finely-moulded limbs offering a study for the sculptor. But the frame looked worn, and his hair, long neglected, was of its natural hue, instead of a dull red, from the clay usually employed in adorning it.
Frankfort and Ormsby did not at once recognise the young Kafir servant, Zoonah, whom they had seen at the Dutchman’s farm, but May informed them who the sleeper was.
Frankfort, surprised at the bushman’s want of caution, placed his forefinger on his lips to enjoin silence.
May pointed to an empty bottle near the Kafir, and, taking it up, turned it upside down with a knowing wink, as he proved that it was empty.
“But,” said Ormsby, “when the rascal wakes he will be off; and, as he has been lurking about for no good, we had better secure him; he would soon outrun the dogs. Some fellows would shoot him, and serve him right; he would murder us if he dare.”
“No, master, no,” replied May; “a Kafir won’t kill you to get nothing by you; he would, if he could, sell your skin; but he don’t want to make a row for nothing; it’s all different when his blood is up. The dog has been hanging about our spoor (track) ready to steal all he can get, and he’s making his way to his own people to tell them, perhaps, that there ain’t red men enough in the country to keep it. Master Ormsby said this himself to Vanbloem, and I heard this fellow tell the other Kafir, who does not understand English.”
“By George!” exclaimed Ormsby, “who would have thought the rascal was ‘so wide awake;’ but will his people believe him?”