ings) here and _bymakaars_ there. Silly folk, they all
run one after the other like sheep. But there it is, Captain, and I tell
you there will be fighting before long, and then our people will shoot
those poor _rooibaatjes_ of yours like buck, and take the land back.
Poor things! I could weep when I think of it."

John smiled at this melancholy prognostication, and was about to explain
what a poor show all the Boers in the Transvaal would make in front of a
few British regiments, when he was astonished by a sudden change in his
friend's manner. Dropping his enormous paw on to his shoulder, Coetzee
broke into a burst of somewhat forced merriment, the cause of which,
though John did not guess it at the moment, was that he had just
perceived Frank Muller, who was in Wakkerstroom with a waggon-load of
corn to grind at the mill, standing within five yards, and apparently
intensely interested in flipping at the flies with a cowrie made of the
tail of a vilderbeeste, but in reality listening to Coetzee's talk with
all his ears.

"Ha, ha! _nef_ (nephew)," said old Coetzee to the astonished John, "no
wonder you like Mooifontein--there are other _mooi_ (pretty) things
there beside the water. How often do you _opsit_ (sit up at night) with
Uncle Croft's pretty girl, eh? I'm not quite as blind as an ant-bear
yet. I saw her blush when you spoke to her just now. I saw her. Well,
well, it is a pretty game for a young man, isn't it, _nef_ Frank?" (this
was addressed to Muller). "I'll be bound the Captain here 'burns a long
candle' with pretty Bessie every night, eh, Frank? I hope you ain't
jealous, _nef_? My _vrouw_ told me some time ago that you were sweet in
that direction yourself;" and he stopped at last, out of breath,
looking anxiously towards Muller for an answer, while John, who had
been somewhat overwhelmed at this flood of bucolic chaff, gave a sigh
of relief. As for Muller, he behaved in a curious manner. Instead of
laughing, as the jolly old Boer had intended that he should, although
Coetzee could not see it, his face had been growing blacker and blacker;
and now that the flow of language ceased, with a savage ejaculation
which John could not catch, but which he appeared to throw at his
(John's) head, he turned on his heel and went off towards the courtyard
of the inn.

"Almighty!" said old Hans, wiping his face with a red cotton
pocket-handkerchief; "I have put my foot into a big hole. That stink-cat
Muller heard all th