it this evening?"

The Kaffir shook his head, and then lowered it upon one hand, making a
piteous grimace.

"Jack sick, bad," he said.

"Jack no sick bad," cried Tanta, leaping up angrily.

As she spoke, she raised one broad black foot, and gave her husband a
sharp thrust in the ribs, with the result that he rolled over and then
jumped up furiously to retaliate.

"Ah, would you!" cried Dyke; and the dog, which had followed him, began
to growl. "Yes, you hit her, and I'll set Duke at you," cried Dyke.
"Can't you see he's ashamed?"

Jack growled fiercely, and his wife reseated herself upon her heels, and
went on stirring the egg again, laughing merrily the while.

"No sick bad," she said; and then wanting to say something more, she
rattled off a series of words, all oom and click, for Jack's benefit,
the Kaffir listening the while.

The egg was soon after declared to be done, and formed a very
satisfactory omelette-like addition to the hard biltong and mealie cake
which formed the ostrich-farmers' dinner.

"I'd a deal rather we'd shot an antelope, Joe," said Dyke, as he ground
away at the biltong, that popular South African delicacy, formed by
cutting fresh meat into long strips, and drying them in the sun before
the flesh has time to go bad--a capital plan in a torrid country, where
decomposition is rapid and salt none too plentiful; but it has its
drawbacks, and is best suited to the taste of those who appreciate the
chewing of leather with a superlatively high flavour of game.

"Yes, it is time we had some fresh meat, old chap," said Emson
good-humouredly. "After that slice of luck with the birds, we'll try
for some guinea-fowl or a springbok in the morning."

"I wish we had a river nearer where we could fish," said Dyke, as he
worked away at the dried meat.

"Yes, it would be handy, if we could catch any fish; but we usen't to
get a great many--not enough to live on--in the old days at home."

"Not often," said Dyke. "I say, it is tough."

"Well, yes. A well-beaten-out piece would not make a bad shoe sole,
little un. But about that fishing? It would take a great many of those
sticklebacks you always would fish for with a worm to make a dish."

"Well, they used to bite, and that's more than your carp would, Joe.
Why, you only used to catch about one a month."

"But, then, look at the size. One did make a dish."

"Yes, of only head and bones. Ugh! I'd rather eat biltong."

Emson laughed g