Spooks!--His eyes bulged, down dropped his brutal jaw. Rooted to where he clung, a-sweat with fright, The cramps of terror gripping at his maw. Spooks!--Pallid spooks! He shrieked away the sight Till the wide veld was reeling. Blurred and pale A spook arose, to follow on his trail. It glided nearer, nearer--nearer yet, Tall as the English mysi far away! His tongue stuck in his throat, and bleeding wet He saw the master sitting up at bay! He heard his name, he heard the still air crack, Then dropped astonished, wondering, on his back, Till every spook had vanished. Slink had gone To make a longer trek, where plains were dim. And haggard-eyed and worn, stern vengeance done, Beth huddled by the poor stiff clay of him She loved, the smoking weapon in her hand To scare the scavenger of carrion brand. The hours crawled by. Soaked through with thunder rains She kept her vigil, loosening her hair In shining masses o'er him. Wild refrains Of piteous croonings and of vague despair Crept to her lips, then died away, unsung, Hiding their tunes, her shattered dreams among. * * * * * Jan Rissik trekked him homeward. Half a day To Cellier's farmstead more. The patient team Of oxen, plodding slowly on their way, Bent to the nekstrop. Huick! a thin sharp gleam Of curling whip flicked at the leader, clean, Sure as a rapier thrust, and long and lean. The voorlooper strode on ahead. The boys Marched to the rhythm of a sing-song chaunt To ease their work. The wagon's lumbering noise, The cheering of the oxen, stormed the haunt Of nature. 'Neath the awning, broad and square Sat Rissik's vrouw, worn with maternal care. Her children nestled round her. Two hours yet! The Dutchman whistled as he jogged along In leisured haste. He licked his thick lips wet To loose his tune. A heavy winging throng Of gorging vultures, black as devil's brood, Rose swearing on the air, with protests crude. Some rotting beast! Jan Rissik raised his eyes To watch the swart aasvogel[B] in their flight, Cracking his whip to dissipate the flies That swarmed in thousands. Pestilential! Right Where his oxen wended, straight in front! He clambered from his seat with angry grunt, And pious prayer politely blended, sure The Powers above would note the quoted text, Nor heed the fact that while he prayed, he swore! His keen eyes swept the veld, grave and perplexed. Two mules strayed fettered by the reim, outspanned, A cart unhitched, stuck in the khaki sand.