m Cape Town, they came up with a large wagon stuck
in a mud-hole. There was quite a party of Boers, Hottentots, Kafirs,
round it, armed with whips, shamboks, and oaths, lashing and cursing
without intermission, or any good effect; and there were the wretched
beasts straining in vain at their choking yokes, moaning with anguish,
trembling with terror, their poor mild eyes dilated with agony and fear,
and often, when the blows of the cruel shamboks cut open their bleeding
flesh, they bellowed to Heaven their miserable and vain protest against
this devil's work.

Then the past opened its stores, and lent Christopher a word.

"BARBARIANS!" he roared, and seized a gigantic Kafir by the throat,
just as his shambok descended for the hundredth time. There was a mighty
struggle, as of two Titans; dust flew round the combatants in a cloud; a
whirling of big bodies, and down they both went with an awful thud, the
Saxon uppermost, by Nature's law.

The Kafir's companions, amazed at first, began to roll their eyes and
draw a knife or two; but Dick ran forward, and said, "Don't hurt him: he
is wrong HERE."

This representation pacified them more readily than one might have
expected. Dick added hastily, "We'll get you out of the hole OUR way,
and cry quits."

The proposal was favorably received, and the next minute Christopher and
Ucatella at one wheel, and Dick and the Hottentot at the other, with no
other help than two pointed iron bars bought for their shepherds, had
effected what sixteen oxen could not. To do this Dick Dale had bared his
arm to the shoulder; it was a stalwart limb, like his sister's, and he
now held it out all swollen and corded, and slapped it with his other
hand. "Look'ee here, you chaps," said he: "the worst use a man can put
that there to is to go cutting out a poor beast's heart for not doing
more than he can. You are good fellows, you Kafirs; but I think you have
sworn never to put your shoulder to a wheel. But, bless your poor silly
hearts, a little strength put on at the right place is better than a
deal at the wrong."

"You hear that, you Kafir chaps?" inquired Ucatella, a little
arrogantly--for a Kafir.

The Kafirs, who had stood quite silent to imbibe these remarks, bowed
their heads with all the dignity and politeness of Roman senators,
Spanish grandees, etc.; and one of the party replied gravely, "The words
of the white man are always wise."

"And his arm blanked* strong," said Christopher's