"Well, I will put it at three weeks," said Mark, "and by that time I hope we shall be a couple of hundred miles farther up the country, with the ponies and the waggons and the teams of oxen all with us in travelling trim, right away in the wild country, where there's no settlement--not a house--nothing but here and there one of the blacks' camps--kraals, as they call them; eh, Dean?" "Yes, that's right." "Well, then, at the end of that time--oh, I shall make it a month--" The man drew a deep breath. "And then my father will have a quiet chat with the doctor and take his opinion. He always goes by Dr Robertson's opinion, doesn't he, Dean?" "Always," said his cousin. "And then he'll what slang people call sack you. You sailors don't say sack, do you?" "No, sir," said the man sadly. "When I was in the Royal Navy we used to call it being paid off." "Well, it doesn't matter," said Mark. "Then of course when we are hundreds of miles from everywhere my father will pay you off." "Oh, no, sir," said the man earnestly, "I don't expect no pay." "Never mind what you expect. My father, I say, will tell you to be off and shift for yourself and get back to that moist oven of a port the best way you can. Won't he, Dean?" Dean caught his cousin's eye, and said decisively, "Yes, of course. That's just like uncle;" and by means of an effort he kept his face straight, looking, as Mark afterwards told him, like a badly carved piece of solid mahogany. "Yes, sir," said the man sadly; "and I daresay I shall be able to steer my way right enough, and for all his kindness I shall be very thankful, and--" "Yah!" shouted Mark. "Didn't I tell you that if ever you spoke again like that I'd--I'd--" "I beg your pardon, sir." "This chap's very weak still in his head, Dean, or else he would not dare to think that an English gentleman would behave like a cad. There, man Dan--no, I mean Dan Mann--just make up your mind that you are in for this trip with all its troubles and hard work." "Do you mean it, sir?" cried the man, and he looked from one to the other. "Mean it? Why, of course we do. So never say anything about it again. Ah, here come father and the doctor. Would you like to ask them if what we say is true?" "Not now, sir," said the man. "I am a bit weak still, more shaky than I thought." The poor fellow's voice sounded very husky during the last few words, and he hurried away, watched by the boys. "I say, Dean, he's better," said Mark. "He could not walk like that a fortnight ago. Do you know, I begin to like that chap. He's rather comic looking, but he is such a regular sailor." "Yes," said Dean, "with quite a sailor's frank boyish sort of way." "Like you, eh?" said Mark. "Get out! Don't chaff. Present company always excepted. I wasn't thinking about you. But I say, didn't he take it all in as innocent as could be about uncle setting him adrift out in the wilds?" "Yes.--Well, father, how many bullocks have you bought?"