Diamond Dyke: The Lone Farm on the Veldt - Story of South African AdventureFenn, George Manville
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Diamond Dyke: The Lone Farm on the Veldt - Story of South African Adventure
Fenn, George Manville
Adventure stories; South Africa -- Fiction
"Todt, dead--vall ashleep, and neffer wake oop no more. Ah, vell, I am
zorry for den pig bruder. He ist a ver goot mans. He bay for all he
puy at mein shdore, und dot is vot die oder beobles do not alvays do.--
Frau," he continued, as they entered the homely and rather untidy but
scrupulously clean house, "dis ist mein younger vrient: you dake him und
wash him, und make him a pig evening's eating, vor he has gom a long way
do zee us, und he will shday as long as he like."
Frau Morgenstern, a big, fat woman, greeted him warmly, and confined her
washing to giving him a tin bucket, a lump of coarse yellow soap, and a
piece of canvas perfectly clean, but coarse enough to make a sack.
That bucket of water was delicious, and so was the hearty meal which
followed, and after being assured by the hearty old German that the
cattle were properly tended, and seeing to Breezy himself--an act which
brought the old trader's fat hand down upon his back with "Goot poy:
alvays dake gare of your goot horse youzelf,"--the house was re-entered,
the door shut, and the host stood up, closed his eyes, and said a prayer
in his native tongue, ending by blessing Dyke in true patriarchal
fashion.
That night Dyke slept as he had not slept for weeks, and woke up the
next morning wondering that he could feel so fresh and well, and
expecting to see Kaffir Jack at the other end of the wagon, curled up in
a blanket; but though the dog was in his old quarters, Jack was absent,
and Dyke supposed that he was asleep beneath.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
A RESTING-PLACE.
"You are petter as offer you vas, heh?" cried the old trader, thrusting
his face in between the canvas curtains of the wagon end. "Yes, quite
well. Good-morning."
"Ach zo. It is a goot mornings. Ant how is der tog? You vill say how
to you are to dem alt Oom Morgenstern. He is goot tog ten, and getting
himself mended ferry quickly. How vas it he shall pe scratch and pite
all ofer hims, heh?"
The old man patted and stroked the dog with his big fat hand, as he
spoke in a soft soothing tone, which had the effect of making him the
best of friends with Duke, who whined and licked at the hand, and kept
up a regular throbbing pat-pat-pat upon the floor of the wagon.
"Ach yes, ten, he is a ferry goot togs, and he shall pe effer zo much
petter zoon. Ant zo der pig spotty gat gom und dake him, heh?"
"Yes, poor fellow, one of the great brutes pounced upon him suddenly,
and fetched him from right under the wagon," said Dyke. "You were bad,
weren't you, Duke, old chap?"
The dog threw up his head and uttered a loud howl, and then began to
lick the cuts torn by the leopard's sharp claws.
"Ach! he vas pad, den," said the old man. "But das ist goot vizzick for
goots und pites. Der tog's tongue ist as goot as his tooses ist pad.
Ant zo you zhoot hims, heh?"
"What!--the leopard?" said Dyke. "Yes, I shot and hit him, I suppose;
but I was afraid of hitting the dog. I fired, though, as a last
chance."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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