"Yes," said Guy quickly, his colour heightened with the interest and excitement of the discovery; "it is so. You shall be my ’boy,’ and I will be your baas, and try to be a good baas to you, as my father was. What wages did he give you?" "He gave me one pound a month and my _skorf_ [food], baas," replied Poeskop, "and sometimes some old clothes when I wanted them." "Well, I’ll do the same," returned Guy cheerfully; "and I am sure we shall be good friends." Poeskop smiled a huge smile at this speech, showing a set of splendid teeth, which for the moment strongly illuminated his quaint and decidedly ugly visage. "That is very good, my young baas," he said, his face still beaming with pleasure; "and I shall show you what I promised to show to your father"--he glanced round again, as if fearing to be overheard--"the Gold Kloof. It is there!" He stretched a forefinger into the air, pointing north-eastward. "And you will find plenty gold, enough for you all; and you will make Poeskop rich too, and buy him cattle, and set him up as a farmer." It was now arranged that the Bushman should at once join the outfit. They walked with him to the wagon outside the town, and introduced him to the other servants. Had he a gun? asked Mr. Blakeney. Yes; he had a gun, concealed not far away. He would get it that night, and put it in the wagon. It was a Martini carbine, given to him by Baas Hardcastle, and in good condition; but he wanted ammunition. This Mr. Blakeney promised to procure for him; and they left the little man at his supper as happy as a king. Next morning Poeskop turned up at the hotel in good time, as Mr. Blakeney had told him to do. It was after breakfast; and they were talking in front of the place, the three Englishmen asking the little Bushman all sorts of questions as to their route, the kind of country they would pass through, the prospects of game (which Poeskop told them were first-rate), and so forth. "Poeskop," presently queried Mr. Blakeney, "how long will it take us, trekking steadily and with good oxen (which I have got), to reach the kloof?" "About six weeks, baas," replied the Bushman. "It is far, and the way is hard." "I had thought of getting another wagon," continued Mr. Blakeney. "It will be rather a squeeze for myself and the two young masters here to get into one at night. What say you, Poeskop? Can we manage with two easily?"