“Kanu,—have you seen the island where the prison is?”
“Yes,—it is far away across the water. If the water were land it would take half a day to walk to it.”
After some further discussion it was finally agreed that next day Kanu was to leave Elsie on the mountain and continue his search for the Governor’s residence alone. So at break of day the Bushman stole down the mountain side and continued his quest. At length he met one who vouchsafed a reply to his question. This was a blind Hottentot beggar whom he met being led by a little child to the street-corner where he was wont to ply his trade.
“The Governor,” replied the beggar, with an air of superiority, “lives at Rondebosch, which is at the other side of the mountain, at this time of the year. I know this, because my niece, who is a washerwoman and washes for his coachman, told me so.”
“Is it against the law to ask where the Governor lives?”
“No,—why should it be against the law?”
“Then one cannot be whipped for asking?”
“Whipped? no; what an idea. But there are many things a Hottentot can get whipped for, all the same.”
“What kind of things?” asked Kanu, starting.
“Oh, plenty; stealing, for instance, or getting drunk, or being found in a garden at night. But who are you and where do you come from?”