"But
it's all going to be Dutch now! No more English!"

"All right," said Ingleborough; "but I want my supper very badly."

"Want to eat? Yes; come in! The vrouw says it is nearly ready."

"That's right; then let's have it."

"You can come in the house," continued the farmer, and Ingleborough
raised his eyebrows a little in surprise.

But a greater surprise awaited the pair on entering the mud-floored room
to find quite a decent meal awaiting them on the table, and their
sour-looking heavy hostess ready to wait on them with a kind of surly
civility.

The pair were too hungry to think of anything then but appeasing their
appetite, and they made a good meal, their host making no scruple about
bringing a stool to the table and taking a larger share than either.

He said little, but his little keen eyes examined everything in
connection with his visitors' costume, paying most heed to their
weapons, while his wife saw to the wants of all from time to time,
retiring at intervals to a second room which led out of the first and
seemed to have been added quite lately.

"You'll want to sleep soon?" said the farmer inquiringly, when the meal
was ended.

"Yes, the sooner the better," said Ingleborough, rising; an example
followed by West; "and we shall be off in the morning early. We'll take
a couple of these cakes."

The Boer nodded.

"Shall I sell you some biltong?" he said.

"Yes, certainly."

"I will have it ready. Where are you going now?"

"To look at the ponies."

"Oh, they are all well. My Kaffir has seen to them."

"But I suppose we are to sleep out there?" said Ingleborough.

"No," said the Boer; "you can sleep there," and he pointed to a
rough-looking bed in one corner of the room. "My Kaffir sleeps with the
horses. My vrouw and I sleep in the other room."

"Then as soon as we can we should like to turn this dining-room into our
bedroom," said Ingleborough.

"But we'll look at our ponies first."

The Boer grunted and proceeded to refill his pipe, while the two young
men went out and across to the rough shelter, where they found their
ponies looking evidently the better for a good feed, and the Kaffir
grinning and ready to pat their plumped-out figures, the ponies taking
the touch of his hand as a friendly caress.

"Eat a big lot," said the Kaffir, in the Boer tongue. "Ah, like this,"
and he held a native basket for their inspection, at the bottom of which
was a specimen of the corn w