“He’s been sent into the country,” said May, “as a spy, to take service, and find out all he can by lurking about the towns, and picking up news at canteens or shop-doors; and then he has come to the farm to keep his eye upon the cattle, and listen to every word that passes between the farmers and missionaries and travellers. His people will believe him fast enough, for they’ve been making ready for war these six months. Vanbloem’s Hottentots told me they had lost cattle lately, but could not account for it. This vagabond has been at the bottom of it, depend upon it.”
And May contemplated the sleeper as he would a mischievous animal; shaking his fist and making hideous grimaces over him.
“He will be up and at you, you little fool,” whispered Frankfort, surprised at the death-like repose of the Kafir, who scarcely seemed to breathe.
“He can’t rise, master,” replied May, with a low laugh; “first of all, he’s drunk, for I left some brandy in the bottle I pretended to throw away; and next, see the snake-bite in his leg: ‘No need to tie him up,’ said I, when I saw that. Ah, the schelm! here’s the top joint of his finger chopped off—he belongs to some of old Mawani’s people. Mawani wouldn’t let the Gaika Nazelu marry his daughter, so Nazelu attacked his kraal ten years ago, and marked all the boys this way, after killing the men, or cutting off their ears and hands.”
Frankfort and Ormsby shuddered as they discovered the snake-bite in the bend of Zoonah a knee, who, all unconscious and stupified, still slept on, in spite of May’s chattering and caperings round him.
Ormsby drew back with a start as the bushman lifted the reptile, which he had discovered, with its back broken, but with some remains of life, for it reared itself up, and fixed its filmy eyes on the young officer’s face; but Frankfort stepped briskly forward, and crushed its head.
Instinct roused the Kafir from his heavy slumber as May waved his assegai over him; but stupified, and sensible only of intense pain, he sunk back with a sullen air, keeping, however, a steady gaze on May.
This page only partly readable; about an inch down the right, missing.
“Poor wretch!” said Frankfort, “he must not, if we can help him. I have the cure of snake-bites; May, fetch the medicine-chest in my wagon.”
May took the proffered key, from which a shrill whistle ere he went in search of which, however, he put less faith tha Fitje’s coctions of herbs, which she had prepare as soon as she, good-hearted little that the young Kafir had been wounded tile. Plenty of healing roots and herb the spot—for God often plants the ai snakes most abound—and very soon t and his wife were at their task of huma ing Zoonah’s wound; May, while i bestowing on his patient a variety of ep Hottentot, Dutch, English, and Kafir la.