“For my part I think there are enough of us already,” said the young girl, looking troubled, for she was Swart Piet’s last Kaffir wife, and did not desire to be supplanted by a new favourite. “But be silent, I hear Bull-Head coming on his horse,” and she began to work very hard at cutting the wands. A few minutes later Zinti saw Swart Piet himself ride up to the women, who saluted him, calling him “Chief” and “Husband.” “You are idle,” he said, eyeing them angrily. “These wands are tough to cut, husband,” murmured the young woman in excuse. “Still you must cut them quicker, girl,” he answered, “if you would not learn how one of them feels upon your back. It will go hard with all of you if the big hut is not finished in seven days from now.” “We will do our best,” said the girl, “but who is to dwell in the hut when it is done?” “Not you, be sure of that,” he answered, roughly, “nor any black woman, for I am weary of you, one and all. Listen: I go to-morrow with my servants to fetch a chieftainess, a white lady, to rule over you, but if any of you speak a word of her presence here you will pay for it, for I shall turn you away to starve. Do you understand?” “We hear you, husband,” they replied, somewhat sullenly, for now they understood that this new wife would be a mistress, and not a sister to them. “Then be careful that you do not forget my words, and—hearken—so soon as you have cut a full load of hut-poles, let two of you carry them up to the krantz yonder, where they are wanted, but be careful that no one sees you going in or coming out.” “We hear you, husband,” they said again, whereon Swart Piet turned and rode away.