"Nod anoder vort. I am going to shmoke mein bibe.--Ah, you bube, Van d.y.k.e, you laugh pecause I preak him last night! You d.i.n.k I haf nod G.o.d anoder? Ha, ha! I haf G.o.d zigs, und one made of wood zo as he gannod preak.--Now, mein tear vrient Yoseph Emzon, led me rest und enshoy myself.--You bube, go und dell dot plack vomans do gook me a goot tinner. I zhall go und shmoke mein bibe und shdudy close long, shdupid-looking pirts, und you gan both gom und dalk do me."

Old Morgenstern had his own way, sitting about in different parts of the farm where there were suitable resting-places, and longest in the chasm of the granite by the water spring in the kopje.

"So dis vas a vavoride blace of yours, eh, bube?" he said, as he sat and smoked in the shade.

"Yes; it is so nice, and moist, and cool."

"Ja, zo. You are nod a shtupid poy at all. Bood look here, dot vos a goot tinner: und I enshoy him mooch pecause I shall nod ged anoder dill I go pack to mein old vomans. Now I do nod d.i.n.k you and der pig bruder vill shdop ferry long at Kopfontein. You will go pack to Angleland."

"Oh yes, some day, of course," said d.y.k.e.

"Ja, zo. When you haf vound blenty of shdones. When you go pack, you vill nod dake dot voman?"

"Oh no! Poor old Tanta Sal; we shall be sorry to leave her behind."

"Den you do nod go to leave her pehind. You shall gom py me to go home.--Ah, heim! mein vaterland! I zhall neffer go pack to her, bube: I am doo alt und d.i.c.k. I shall go vrom here do der great vaterland--do Himmel, I hope. Bood you shall bring Tanta Sal to alt Oom Morgenstern.

My alt vomans shall pe fery goot to her, und she shall gook tinners, und help. Bood she vill haf to vear more glothes. Mein alt voman vill nod led her go apout like dot."

The next morning that plan regarding Tanta Sal's future was ratified, subject to the woman's agreement, and Emson thought that as they would go very slowly, he might be able to sit upon his horse, and ride with old Morgenstern for a few miles on his long round.

The old man beamed with satisfaction, and Emson and d.y.k.e mounted, and walked their horses, one on each side of the wagon-box, where the old fellow sat holding his big whip.

They went to the first water, where the oxen were refreshed, a good six miles from Kopfontein, and then departed, the old man blessing them both in patriarchal manner, ending by kissing d.y.k.e on each cheek.

"Dill we meed again, mein sohn," he said, and the great team of oxen slowly moved away, guided by the two Kaffir boys.

Emson and d.y.k.e sat watching the wagon for some time, but the old man did not look back, and as d.y.k.e sat gazing, he said to himself:

"I suppose it is the German custom. It seems queer to me, but I don't think I minded it so much just then."

"What are you thinking about, little un?" said Emson huskily.

"That old Morgenstern must be a very good old man. I wish he wouldn't kiss me, all the same, and make me laugh at his ways."

"It is only at his words and looks, d.y.k.e. G.o.d bless him! We neither of us smile at him in our hearts."

The sun was setting as they walked their horses up toward the shabby-looking corrugated iron buildings; but now, in the evening light, everything seemed glorified, and they drew rein to look around, neither speaking for some time.

It was d.y.k.e who broke the silence.

"You are tired out and done up, Joe," he said. "Let's get in, so that you can have some tea, and lie down and rest."

Emson started from his reverie, and there was a bright light in his eyes, a smile upon his lip, which made d.y.k.e's heart leap with pleasure, while, when he spoke, his words sounded almost as they did of old.

"Tired, little un," he said, "and so stiff that you'll have to help me off the horse; but it is the good, honest weariness that makes rest one of the greatest pleasures of life. Look here, old chap, I feel as if I am going to be a man again."

He held out his hand, which d.y.k.e caught and gripped without a word, listening as his brother went on.

"We've found wealth, little un, and I suppose that is good, but it seems to me like nothing compared to health and strength. One wants to have been pulled down very low to know what he is worth."

d.y.k.e said nothing, but sat looking round him still at the wide veldt, and skies one scene of glory, as the sun illumined the great granite kopje, and seemed to crown it with rays of gold.

"Joe, old chap," he said at last, "I used to sit over there and sulk, and hate the hot old place and everything here, but--I don't think I shall like to leave it after all."

"The time for leaving has not come yet, boy," said Emson quietly. "We shall see. At present it is home."

It was three years later when they rode away, with their wagon lightly laden with the curiosities they wished to take back. The stones they had collected were safely there before, sent home from time to time.

For old Morgenstern had prophesied correctly. The news had spread fast enough, and by degrees the country was overrun, and a busy city sprang up not many miles away. They saw it with sorrow, certainly not from sordid motives--for within three months of the night when the old man visited Kopfontein, d.y.k.e and his brother had picked up here and there all they cared to seek--but from a liking for the quiet life and their home on the veldt.

But as it grew more and more changed, the time seemed to draw nearer for saying good-bye to the little farm, where, from old a.s.sociations, they still bred ostriches, and with far better fortune, leading a simple life, tended by Tanta Sal and a Kaffir whom they found that they could trust.

At last the time came.

"Home, little un?" said Emson laconically.

"Yes: Old England now," said the great strapping fellow six feet high.

"Everything has changed, and I don't like the people who come always hanging about."

So they rode away one day, with Duke and the Kaffir at the head of the team, and Tanta Sal seated in the wagon-box behind, smiling and happy at the thought of the change, and giving the two young lions in their cage a sc.r.a.p from time to time.

The homeward-bound pilgrims reached old Morgenstern's farm, where they were warmly welcomed, Tanta Sal arriving just at the right time.

"Vor you see we are gedding ferry old beobles now, mein sohn," said Morgenstern; "und as I am a ridge man, I do not like to zee mein old vomans vork zo hart.--Aha! und zo yo dake die gubs mit you?"

"Yes," said d.y.k.e, "we are going to try and get them to England as a present for the Zoo."

"Zo!" said the old man.

Tanta Sal smiled contentedly when they rode off, a week later. She had no compunction about staying, while the Kaffir man was to come back with the empty wagon and team when the pilgrims reached the big town, from whence travelling was easy to the Cape.

And as the brothers mounted to go, Emson said:

"This is cutting the last string, little un?"

The stalwart "little un" nodded his head gravely.

"Yes, old chap," he said, "but the Kopfontein of the past is gone. It only lives in one's memory now."

They turned to look back--their wagon slowly crawling on in front, with the patient oxen, fat and sleek, following the black vorloper-- homeward-bound; and as they sat in their saddles they could see the old German standing by the place with his wife, waving their hands, and d.y.k.e almost fancied he could hear the old man saying, as he had said at parting:

"You are young und shdrong, und you haf die vorlt pefore you. Mein alt vomans und I are goming nearly do der endt. I do not zay dry und do goot mit vot you dake avay, vor I know you vill. Vonce more, mein sohns--goot-pye."

Just then Duke gave a sharp bark, as if to say, "Come on!"

"Right, old dog," cried d.y.k.e. "Now, then, for home!"

THE END.