nderful shot with a rifle--he never
misses."

"I will have the man tried for attempted murder," said John, bringing
the butt-end of his rifle down with a bang on to the bottom of the cart.
"A villain like that shall not go scot-free."

Jantje grinned. "It is no use, Baas. He would get off, for I am the
only witness. A jury won't believe a black man in this country, and they
would never punish a Boer for shooting at an Englishman. No, Baas! you
should lie up one day in the veldt where he is going to pass and shoot
_him_. That is what I would do if I dared."

CHAPTER XI

ON THE BRINK

For a few weeks after John Niel's adventure at the shooting-party no
event of any importance occurred at Mooifontein. Day followed day in
charming monotony, for, whatever "gay worldlings" may think, monotony
is as full of charm as a dreamy summer afternoon. "Happy is the country
that has no history," says the voice of wisdom, and the same remark
maybe made with even more truth of the individual. To get up in the
morning conscious of health and strength, to pursue the common round and
daily task till evening comes, and finally to go to bed pleasantly tired
and sleep the sleep of the just, is the true secret of happiness. Fierce
excitements, excursions, and alarms do not conduce either to mental or
physical well-being, and it is for this reason that we find that those
whose lives have been chiefly concerned with them crave the most after
the quiet round of domestic life. When they get it, often, it is true,
they pant for the ardours of the fray whereof the dim and distant sounds
are echoing through the spaces of their heart, in the same way that the
countries without a history are sometimes anxious to write one in their
own blood. But that is a principle of Nature, who will allow of no
standing still among her subjects, and who has ordained that strife of
one sort or another shall be the absolute condition of existence.

On the whole, John found that the life of a South African farmer came
well up to his expectations. He had ample occupation; indeed, what
between ostriches, horses, cattle, sheep, and crops, he was rather over
than under occupied. Nor was he much troubled by the lack of civilised
society, for he was a man who read a great deal, and books could be
ordered from Durban and Cape Town, while the weekly mail brought with it
a sufficient supply of papers. On Sundays he always read the political
articles in the "Saturday Rev