Max gave Nathan a month’s notice of leaving next day. As, however, he had drawn his salary by the quarter, Nathan insisted on three months’ notice being given. In this Max had to acquiesce, but he did so with a very bad grace.
Up to Friday morning Koos Bester had no opportunity of carrying out his intention of giving Gert Gemsbok a thrashing on the quiet. By Thursday night he had quite given up the idea. His slow mind had gradually come to recognise that he had better leave the old Hottentot alone—this in spite of Nathan’s daily promptings on the subject. The old man looked so frail and bent. Some unrecognised remnant of chivalry in the Boer’s nature made him dimly see that for a man of his strength to attack one who would be as a child in his hands would be base and cowardly. But Willem, whom he had loved as more than a brother, had been done to death by this baboon-like creature. Then for a few minutes the face of Koos would darken with the desire for revenge. He began to long for the time of departure, so as to be away from the temptation to do the deed that he loathed and longed for the doing of at the same time.
Friday morning came, and after breakfast Nathan and Koos departed from Namies in the cart drawn by the six smart mules. The road led around the kopjes to the westward, so the cart was out of sight of the camps a few minutes after the start.
The distance to Koos Bester’s camp would take two short days to accomplish, but could not possibly be accomplished in one. The dunes were avoided on this route by passing over the point where the red-hot hand had been amputated and the stump frayed away by the winds of centuries. After travelling a mile or so they passed over some ground where a lot of shallow gullies, which carried off the occasional thunderstorm drainage from the kopjes, intersected each other. A flock of sheep could be seen grazing a few hundred yards to the right of the road, amongst the gullies. Between them and the road could be seen the figure of a man sitting on a doubled-down tussock of “twa” grass.
Koos felt the blood rise to his brain, but he averted his eyes from the figure and sucked violently at his pipe. Nathan pulled at the reins, and the mules came to a standstill. Just then the man arose from the tussock and disappeared over the edge of one of the gullies.
“Koos, my son, there’s your chance.”
“Never mind; I’ll let the old vagabond alone to-day. I haven’t got a sjambok with me, and that whip of yours wouldn’t hurt him enough. Drive on.”
“Rot! man alive; let’s have some sport. Give him a taste of those pretty little feet of yours. Go on, I’ll see fair play.”
Koos alighted from the cart and began adjusting a part of the harness which had got out of gear. Then he walked back and put his foot on the step preparatory to climbing in.
“What! ain’t you going to give it to him? Well, you most likely won’t have another chance; I’ve told Max to give him the sack as soon as ever he can get another boy, so he’ll likely be gone by the time we return.”