"She has annexed land," the cool, dispassionate voice admitted--"she continues to annex. Wherever we have settled, she has followed and turned us out. She can do this--because of the power behind,--her strength lies across the seas." "Oh, come!" he said, and regretted his ignorance of South African history. "It is quite elementary knowledge that the Netherlands sold the Cape Colony to Britain in the early part of the nineteenth century." A cold little smile crossed her features. "Oh! yes," she said; "we were sold--we know that--after hundreds of us had bled for the land. They sold us because they knew they couldn't hold the land. Then we left the colony which we had founded at the Cape a century and a half before, and trekked as far as Natal. When we had made that colony, the British annexed it... It was always trekking and then annexation and then trekking once more. We left the coast and struck inland, and crossed the Orange River in search anew of a home. Again we were driven on--beyond the Vaal. There we founded our Republic." The low, evenly modulated voice never raised its tones, but an increasing bitterness crept into them at this point. "The Transvaal was rich in minerals. That was sufficient. The Transvaal was annexed by the British. But the Boers were stronger now, and they could endure this persecution no longer. They fought for their Republic, and bought it again dearly with their blood at Majuba Hill. But the feeling of insecurity remained. There was friction between the two white races, and jealousy, and much bitterness. Still you coveted our land. You never rested until, backed by the power across the seas, you fought again for it--and won." Matheson was amazed. When the quiet voice ceased speaking, in the pause that followed, the shrill noise of the crickets broke with disconcerting insistence and troubled the ears. Only Andreas Krige moved. He did not speak; he stood up abruptly, and pocketed his pipe, and went inside, passing his sister without appearing to notice her. Matheson was interested, intensely interested--and hurt. "Isn't all this you have been telling me a distortion of facts?" he asked. "No," she answered. "It is just a bald summary of the principal events in the history of the Colony since its beginning." "I am sorry I am so ignorant of these things," he said. "A man ought to read up the history of a country before he visits it. I'm at a disadvantage. That only matters in as far as it prevents my answering you. I am hearing only your side. You have made out a good case... There's always injustice where the interests of races conflict. If one went back far enough, _I_ imagine one would find the greatest injustice has been meted out to the natives." "Oh, the natives!" Her voice sounded her contempt. "You British always fall back on the natives. It's your unfailing retort that you administer more wisely and more humanely than we do."