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 late opponent, from whose mind, however, all resentment had vanished. * I take this very useful expression from a delightful volume by Mr. Boyle. Thus spake the Kafirs; yet to this day never hath a man of all their tribe put his shoulder to a wheel, so strong is custom in South Africa; probably in all Africa; since I remember St. Augustin found it stronger than he liked, at Carthage. Ucatella went to Phoebe, and said, “Missy, my child is good and brave.” “Bother you and your child!” said poor Phoebe. “To think of his flying at a giant like that, and you letting of him. I'm all of a tremble from head to foot:” and Phoebe relieved herself with a cry. “Oh, missy!” said Ucatella. “There, never mind me. Do go and look after your child, and keep him out of more mischief. I wish we were safe at Dale's Kloof, I do.” Ucatella complied, and went botanizing with Dr. Staines; but that gentleman, in the course of his scientific researches into camomile flowers and blasted heath, which were all that lovely region afforded, suddenly succumbed and stretched out his limbs, and said, sleepily, “Good-night--U--cat--” and was off into the land of Nod. The wagon, which, by the way, had passed the larger but slower vehicle, found him fast asleep, and Ucatella standing by him as ordered, motionless and grand.