Chapter Nine.Why Old Jackal slinks his Tail.The little girl was full of excitement. Driving home with her mother from the “dorp,” she had seen Ou’ Jackalse himself—Mynheer Jackal—slinking across the veldt, and all the tales Old Hendrik had told her about him crowded her mind as she watched him. She could hardly contain herself now, as she stood before the old Hottentot pouring forth the story. There was only one regret in it—“He must have been in some trouble, Ou’ Ta’,” said she; “’cause all the time I watched him his tail was right down. I watched and I watched to see if it wouldn’t stick up, ’cause then I’d know he was thinking of a plan; but it never did.”Old Hendrik smiled. “So his tail was a-hangin’ an’ a-slinkin’ ahter him, was it? An’ didn’t he look back at you over his shoulder as he went?”“Yes, he did,” answered Annie, still more eager at finding how well Old Hendrik knew the ways and doings of Ou’ Jackalse. “I kept hoping he was thinking of fetching Ou’ Wolf to work for us, then I could tell Ou’ Wolf not to trust him any more, no matter what he said.”Old Hendrik’s delight bubbled into a jeering shake of the head and a half laugh of derision over the subject as he repeated the name—“Ou’ Jackalse, hey! Ou’ Jackalse!”“But you needn’t to be feared he’s a-gun’ to get Ou’ Wolf into much more trouble nowadays, Ainkye,” went on the old Hottentot. “He ain’t a-gun’ to get de best o’ so many more folks, not since he went to get even wid Young Tink Tinky, de littlest bird on de veldt. Little Missis Tinky got Ou’ Mammy Reyer, de Crane, to he’p her, an’ dat made all de difference. You seen how he slunk his tail along behind him?—well, dat’s why. He’s a-tinkin’ o’ what happened den, an’ he looked at you over his shoulder, wonderin’ all de time weder you’d heerd de tale or not. It happened dis while or two back, an’ since den he ain’t bin near so sa’cy as he used to was.”“Oh, poor Old Jackalse!” cried the little girl, “what did happen? Do tell me, Ou’ Ta’.”“Well,” began Old Hendrik, “if ever you sees Ou’ Jackalse tryin’ to fool Ou’ Wolf into trouble agen, you don’t ha’ to say on’y yust one ting. You’s on’y got to ask him how he likes eggs, an’ den see if he don’t turn round an fair slink off wid his tail draggin’. Dat’s where de trouble come in, he would go ahter eggs.“You ’members me tellin’ you how Young Tink Tinky bested Ou’ Jackalse when de birds wantto choose a King for demselves? Well, Ou’ Jackalse he never forgot dat, an’ he was al’ays a-studyin’ how he’s a-gun’ to get even, but he couldn’t find de way nohow till at last he sees Missis Tinky a-sittin’ on de nest, an’ he knows by dat dere’s eggs dere. ‘Dat’s me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘Eggs is de ting I does like—an’ here’s some. Watch me teach dat Young Tinky dis time.’“Now dere was a t’orn-tree like dis,”—here Old Hendrik indicated the mimosa under which he sat,—“an’ dis t’orn-tree was a-growin close beside de river, an’ a willow-tree dat was bigger yet was a-hangin’ over de t’orn. In dat t’orn-tree Young Tinky build his nest, an ahter de eggs is all laid, an’ his missis is well an’ comfy settled into sittin’ on ’em, Young Tink he offs to look for scoff for hisse’f an’ de missis. Den’s de time when Ou’ Jackalse is a-watchin’ him, an’ as soon as he’s gone, here comes Jackalse to de bottom o’ de t’orn-tree an’ begins to scratch on de bark—scratch! scratch! scratch!“Little Missis Tinky she look down out o de nest. ‘Who’s dere?’ ses she.“‘Me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.“‘What you want?’ ses Missis Tinky, all in a tremble.“‘Want dem eggs you got,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, wid his hair up. ‘You better be sharp about it too.’“‘Well, you ain’t a-gun’ to get ’em,’ flutter Missis Tinky; but she’s yust dat frighten’ she cahnt har’ly speak.“‘Please yourse’f,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse; ‘but if you don’t drop me down a egg dis minute, den I’s a-comin’up, an’ if I once does come up dere, den I’s a-gun’ to eat you first as well as de eggs. Make a hurry now—drop one!’“Little missis she get sich a scrik when Ou’ Jackalse ses he’s a-comin’ up dat she yust go all a-flitty flutty, an’ dere ain’t no two ways about it, she hatto drop him one egg to save de rest. So out she pull it an down she drop it, right into Ou’ Jackalse mouf, where he stand on his back legs wid his front feets agen de tree. An’ as soon as he feel it in his mouf he yust gullup it down, an’ off he go for dat day. ‘I’ll make dis ting last a bit,’ ses he to hisse’f.“Well, little Missis Tinky she’s in dat terr’ble way she cahnt har’ly sit still till Young Tinky comes home, an’ as soon’s ever she sees him she burst out a-cryin’ an’ a-tellin’ him what happened.“‘What! An’ you b’lieve sich a fool tale as dat about him climbin’ de tree,’ ses Young Tinky, fair fightin’ mad at de way he lose dat egg. ‘He cahnt climb dis tree, not if he break his neck a-tryin’.’“But Young Tinky he sees it ain’t no use; it ain’t a-gun’ to he’p his missis for him to shout an’ talk about it. ‘Never you mind dis time, little missis,’ ses he. ‘To-morrow you can go an’ look for de scoff, an’ I stay at home an’ wait for Ou’ Jackalse. I’ll show him what’s what dis time, too,’ ses he. An’ his missis she stop cryin’, dough she cahnt stop lookin’ where dat one egg ought to be.“Well, de nex’ day Young Tinky he stop at home an’ sit on de nest while his missis went for scoff, an’ it ain’t but a while or two ’fore along comes Ou’ Jackalse to de foot o’ de tree-scratch! scratch! scratch!“Young Tinky he ain’t a-lettin’ Ou’ Jackalse see who’s at home to-day; he yust on’y slant half o’ one eye down at him. ‘Who’s dere?’ ses he.“‘Me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.“‘An’ what you want scratchin’ dere?’ ses Tinky.“‘Anoder egg, an’ you best be sharp about it,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.“‘Well, you’s yust about got all de eggs you’s a-gun’ to get here,’ ses Tinky, stickin’ all his head an’ shoulders out for Jackalse to have a good look at him.“‘Oh, it’s you, is it?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, showin’ his teef. ‘Well, if you won’t drop darie egg down in one minute, den I’s a-comin’ up an’ eat you all up—bones, beak an’ feders!’“‘Come up den,’ ses Young Tinky, hoppin’ out onto a branch. ‘Yust you come up here if you darse, you hairy skellum you,’ squeak Tinky, hoppin’ up an’ down an’ flickin’ his wings like he’s fair a-gun’ to peck de eyes out o’ de hull fam’ly o’ de Jackalses. ‘You try it on, Mister Ou’ Jackalse, an’ see what I’s do to you!’ an’ Tinky swells hisse’f into a reg’lar ole rage as he tink o’ dat egg yestiday an’ his little missis frighten’ to deaf nearly.“Dat make Ou’ Jackalse in sich a wax dat he spurt out de word he didn’t mean to. ‘I on’y wish I could yust come up dis tree to you. I’d scoff you down in yust one gullup an’ your eggses ahter you,’ ses he, a-rampin’ an’ a-tearin’.“‘You ses dat,’ squeak young Tinky, ‘but I knows better. It’s not you cahnt—it’s you dahnt. But I’ll teach you to frighten poor little mammickies into givin’ you deir eggses, you skellum! skellum! skellum!’“Ou’ Jackalse he get dat mad, a-snappin’ an’ a-snarlin’ while he listen, dat he fair turn away an’ slant out o’ dat, an’ Young Tinky is yust dat conceited of hisse’f he cahnt har’ly wait till his missis comes home ’fore he begin a-tellin’ her dat’s de way she ought to done yestiday. An’ Missis Tink she listen an’ she tink she’ll do de same herse’f now, if ever Ou’ Jackalse trouble her agen.“So de nex’ day Young Tinky he go ahter de scoff, an’ his missis she sit on de eggs, tinkin’ it’s all right now. But Ou’ Jackalse he’d bin a-watchin’, an’ he know’s who’s a-gone an who’s a-stop at home, an in about no time he’s at de foot o’ darie t’orn-tree agen, an’ de same ole scratch! scratch! scratch! at it.“Little Missis Tink she stick her head out an’ she start to tell him to get out o’ dat, in de biggest voice she’s got. But she hadn’t more dan got out de first two words dan she see his teef where he bare ’em all round, white an’ yammerin’, an’ he look dat savage an’ murderin’ dat de rest o’ de words stuck fast in her froat, an’ she fair chattered wid fright.“‘Down wi’ darie egg, else I’ll come an’ tear you into smitchies,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.“Missis Tinky nearly drop out o’ de nest wid de scrik she got; but she tink o’ what Tink Tinky say, an’ she squeak it out. ‘You cahnt come up dis tree if you try,’ ses she.“‘Cahnt I?’ ses he, all hair an’ spiky. ‘Yust see me half try!’ an’ he gives de biggest yump he ever make in his life, an’ it scrape him a couple o’ yards up de tree stem.“Little missis she fair gi’en one big squawk an’ tink she’s all gone—eggs, nest, an’ all. ‘Is you a-gun’ to drop me dat egg?’ shouts Ou’ Jackalse.“‘Yes, yes. Here it is! Take it, take it!’ squeak de little missis, an’ she drop out de one egg to him.“Ou’ Jackalse he ketch dat egg an’ he gulp it down an’ off he go agen. ‘Nex’ time I come you better drop one quicker. I ain’t a-gun’ to ax twice no more,’ ses he.“Well, as soon as he go, little Missis Tinky she cry like her heart break, an’ she cahnt sit dere on de dest at all. Anyhow she’s feared to wait till Young Tinky comes home, ’cause she don’t know what he’ll say when he finds anoder egg gone, an’ she’s in dat misery dat she don’t know what to do. Den she tink of her Aunt, Ou’ Reyer, de Blue Crane, an’ she fly off to her where she’s a-fis’in’ in de reeds, an’ she yust up an’ tell her de hull tale of it.“‘So darie Ou’ Jackalse’s up to his tricks agen, is he?’ ses Ou’ Reyer. ‘Well, he’s meddle wid de birds before, an’ dis time we’ll teach him to don’t do it no more. Now you yust go home an’ sit on de nest agen, an’ I’ll come in a minute or two—den well be ready for him.’“Little missis she go back, an’ in a minute or two Ou’ Reyer follows, an’ she hide herse’f in de top o’ de willow-tree over de nest. ‘Now for Ou’ Jackalse,’ ses she.“Well, it ain’t but a little while rill here come Ou’ Jackalse agen, wid de same ole scratch! scratch! scratch! an’ de same ole terr’fyin’ words—‘Drop me down anoder egg or I’ll come up an’ eat you,’ ses he.“‘Make like you’s a-gun’ to drop him one,’ whispers Ou’ Reyer; an’ little Missis Tinky she make like she’s a-doin’ it.“Ou’ Jackalse he rise up on his hine legs, an’ he put his paws agen de tree, an’ he open his mouf an’ shut his eyes, an’ he fair feel de taste o’ dat egg a’ready. An’ den, yust den, Ou’ Reyer she lean out over Missis Tinky an’ she open her big long beak, an’, swock! she drop a great big bull-frog right into Ou’ Jackalse’s froat.“Wow! but dere was a chokin’ an’ a squeal-in’ den. Ou’ Jackalse he yump an’ he roll, an’ he fling hisse’f along de ground a-tryin’ to cough up darie fat bull-frog, an’ darie ou’ bull-frog he puff an’ he wiggle an’ he slip down an’ down till dere he is in Ou’ Jackalse’s tummy, a-hoppin’ an’ a-floppin’ an’ a-croakin’ an’ a-gloakin’ till Ou’ Jackalse is yust dat scared dat he light out f’m dere plump across de scenery. An’ he go dat fast he yust hit de high places as he went an’ never touch’ de low. I tell you Ou’ Jackalse was scared.“He don’t stop nudder till he’s yust dat puffed out dat he roll over an’ over like a shot hare, an’ he’s so long a-gettin’ over it dat he forget what day it happen in. Ever since den, too, de birds all click deir beakses at him, an’ chatter at him, an’ ax him how he likes Tinky eggs; an’ dat’s what make him so shamed he ain’t never cocked up his tail no more—he yust cahnt do it.”“And serve him right,” cried all the children in chorus.Old Hendrik only shook his head.
The little girl was full of excitement. Driving home with her mother from the “dorp,” she had seen Ou’ Jackalse himself—Mynheer Jackal—slinking across the veldt, and all the tales Old Hendrik had told her about him crowded her mind as she watched him. She could hardly contain herself now, as she stood before the old Hottentot pouring forth the story. There was only one regret in it—“He must have been in some trouble, Ou’ Ta’,” said she; “’cause all the time I watched him his tail was right down. I watched and I watched to see if it wouldn’t stick up, ’cause then I’d know he was thinking of a plan; but it never did.”
Old Hendrik smiled. “So his tail was a-hangin’ an’ a-slinkin’ ahter him, was it? An’ didn’t he look back at you over his shoulder as he went?”
“Yes, he did,” answered Annie, still more eager at finding how well Old Hendrik knew the ways and doings of Ou’ Jackalse. “I kept hoping he was thinking of fetching Ou’ Wolf to work for us, then I could tell Ou’ Wolf not to trust him any more, no matter what he said.”
Old Hendrik’s delight bubbled into a jeering shake of the head and a half laugh of derision over the subject as he repeated the name—“Ou’ Jackalse, hey! Ou’ Jackalse!”
“But you needn’t to be feared he’s a-gun’ to get Ou’ Wolf into much more trouble nowadays, Ainkye,” went on the old Hottentot. “He ain’t a-gun’ to get de best o’ so many more folks, not since he went to get even wid Young Tink Tinky, de littlest bird on de veldt. Little Missis Tinky got Ou’ Mammy Reyer, de Crane, to he’p her, an’ dat made all de difference. You seen how he slunk his tail along behind him?—well, dat’s why. He’s a-tinkin’ o’ what happened den, an’ he looked at you over his shoulder, wonderin’ all de time weder you’d heerd de tale or not. It happened dis while or two back, an’ since den he ain’t bin near so sa’cy as he used to was.”
“Oh, poor Old Jackalse!” cried the little girl, “what did happen? Do tell me, Ou’ Ta’.”
“Well,” began Old Hendrik, “if ever you sees Ou’ Jackalse tryin’ to fool Ou’ Wolf into trouble agen, you don’t ha’ to say on’y yust one ting. You’s on’y got to ask him how he likes eggs, an’ den see if he don’t turn round an fair slink off wid his tail draggin’. Dat’s where de trouble come in, he would go ahter eggs.
“You ’members me tellin’ you how Young Tink Tinky bested Ou’ Jackalse when de birds wantto choose a King for demselves? Well, Ou’ Jackalse he never forgot dat, an’ he was al’ays a-studyin’ how he’s a-gun’ to get even, but he couldn’t find de way nohow till at last he sees Missis Tinky a-sittin’ on de nest, an’ he knows by dat dere’s eggs dere. ‘Dat’s me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘Eggs is de ting I does like—an’ here’s some. Watch me teach dat Young Tinky dis time.’
“Now dere was a t’orn-tree like dis,”—here Old Hendrik indicated the mimosa under which he sat,—“an’ dis t’orn-tree was a-growin close beside de river, an’ a willow-tree dat was bigger yet was a-hangin’ over de t’orn. In dat t’orn-tree Young Tinky build his nest, an ahter de eggs is all laid, an’ his missis is well an’ comfy settled into sittin’ on ’em, Young Tink he offs to look for scoff for hisse’f an’ de missis. Den’s de time when Ou’ Jackalse is a-watchin’ him, an’ as soon as he’s gone, here comes Jackalse to de bottom o’ de t’orn-tree an’ begins to scratch on de bark—scratch! scratch! scratch!
“Little Missis Tinky she look down out o de nest. ‘Who’s dere?’ ses she.
“‘Me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.
“‘What you want?’ ses Missis Tinky, all in a tremble.
“‘Want dem eggs you got,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, wid his hair up. ‘You better be sharp about it too.’
“‘Well, you ain’t a-gun’ to get ’em,’ flutter Missis Tinky; but she’s yust dat frighten’ she cahnt har’ly speak.
“‘Please yourse’f,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse; ‘but if you don’t drop me down a egg dis minute, den I’s a-comin’up, an’ if I once does come up dere, den I’s a-gun’ to eat you first as well as de eggs. Make a hurry now—drop one!’
“Little missis she get sich a scrik when Ou’ Jackalse ses he’s a-comin’ up dat she yust go all a-flitty flutty, an’ dere ain’t no two ways about it, she hatto drop him one egg to save de rest. So out she pull it an down she drop it, right into Ou’ Jackalse mouf, where he stand on his back legs wid his front feets agen de tree. An’ as soon as he feel it in his mouf he yust gullup it down, an’ off he go for dat day. ‘I’ll make dis ting last a bit,’ ses he to hisse’f.
“Well, little Missis Tinky she’s in dat terr’ble way she cahnt har’ly sit still till Young Tinky comes home, an’ as soon’s ever she sees him she burst out a-cryin’ an’ a-tellin’ him what happened.
“‘What! An’ you b’lieve sich a fool tale as dat about him climbin’ de tree,’ ses Young Tinky, fair fightin’ mad at de way he lose dat egg. ‘He cahnt climb dis tree, not if he break his neck a-tryin’.’
“But Young Tinky he sees it ain’t no use; it ain’t a-gun’ to he’p his missis for him to shout an’ talk about it. ‘Never you mind dis time, little missis,’ ses he. ‘To-morrow you can go an’ look for de scoff, an’ I stay at home an’ wait for Ou’ Jackalse. I’ll show him what’s what dis time, too,’ ses he. An’ his missis she stop cryin’, dough she cahnt stop lookin’ where dat one egg ought to be.
“Well, de nex’ day Young Tinky he stop at home an’ sit on de nest while his missis went for scoff, an’ it ain’t but a while or two ’fore along comes Ou’ Jackalse to de foot o’ de tree-scratch! scratch! scratch!
“Young Tinky he ain’t a-lettin’ Ou’ Jackalse see who’s at home to-day; he yust on’y slant half o’ one eye down at him. ‘Who’s dere?’ ses he.
“‘Me,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.
“‘An’ what you want scratchin’ dere?’ ses Tinky.
“‘Anoder egg, an’ you best be sharp about it,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.
“‘Well, you’s yust about got all de eggs you’s a-gun’ to get here,’ ses Tinky, stickin’ all his head an’ shoulders out for Jackalse to have a good look at him.
“‘Oh, it’s you, is it?’ ses Ou’ Jackalse, showin’ his teef. ‘Well, if you won’t drop darie egg down in one minute, den I’s a-comin’ up an’ eat you all up—bones, beak an’ feders!’
“‘Come up den,’ ses Young Tinky, hoppin’ out onto a branch. ‘Yust you come up here if you darse, you hairy skellum you,’ squeak Tinky, hoppin’ up an’ down an’ flickin’ his wings like he’s fair a-gun’ to peck de eyes out o’ de hull fam’ly o’ de Jackalses. ‘You try it on, Mister Ou’ Jackalse, an’ see what I’s do to you!’ an’ Tinky swells hisse’f into a reg’lar ole rage as he tink o’ dat egg yestiday an’ his little missis frighten’ to deaf nearly.
“Dat make Ou’ Jackalse in sich a wax dat he spurt out de word he didn’t mean to. ‘I on’y wish I could yust come up dis tree to you. I’d scoff you down in yust one gullup an’ your eggses ahter you,’ ses he, a-rampin’ an’ a-tearin’.
“‘You ses dat,’ squeak young Tinky, ‘but I knows better. It’s not you cahnt—it’s you dahnt. But I’ll teach you to frighten poor little mammickies into givin’ you deir eggses, you skellum! skellum! skellum!’
“Ou’ Jackalse he get dat mad, a-snappin’ an’ a-snarlin’ while he listen, dat he fair turn away an’ slant out o’ dat, an’ Young Tinky is yust dat conceited of hisse’f he cahnt har’ly wait till his missis comes home ’fore he begin a-tellin’ her dat’s de way she ought to done yestiday. An’ Missis Tink she listen an’ she tink she’ll do de same herse’f now, if ever Ou’ Jackalse trouble her agen.
“So de nex’ day Young Tinky he go ahter de scoff, an’ his missis she sit on de eggs, tinkin’ it’s all right now. But Ou’ Jackalse he’d bin a-watchin’, an’ he know’s who’s a-gone an who’s a-stop at home, an in about no time he’s at de foot o’ darie t’orn-tree agen, an’ de same ole scratch! scratch! scratch! at it.
“Little Missis Tink she stick her head out an’ she start to tell him to get out o’ dat, in de biggest voice she’s got. But she hadn’t more dan got out de first two words dan she see his teef where he bare ’em all round, white an’ yammerin’, an’ he look dat savage an’ murderin’ dat de rest o’ de words stuck fast in her froat, an’ she fair chattered wid fright.
“‘Down wi’ darie egg, else I’ll come an’ tear you into smitchies,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse.
“Missis Tinky nearly drop out o’ de nest wid de scrik she got; but she tink o’ what Tink Tinky say, an’ she squeak it out. ‘You cahnt come up dis tree if you try,’ ses she.
“‘Cahnt I?’ ses he, all hair an’ spiky. ‘Yust see me half try!’ an’ he gives de biggest yump he ever make in his life, an’ it scrape him a couple o’ yards up de tree stem.
“Little missis she fair gi’en one big squawk an’ tink she’s all gone—eggs, nest, an’ all. ‘Is you a-gun’ to drop me dat egg?’ shouts Ou’ Jackalse.
“‘Yes, yes. Here it is! Take it, take it!’ squeak de little missis, an’ she drop out de one egg to him.
“Ou’ Jackalse he ketch dat egg an’ he gulp it down an’ off he go agen. ‘Nex’ time I come you better drop one quicker. I ain’t a-gun’ to ax twice no more,’ ses he.
“Well, as soon as he go, little Missis Tinky she cry like her heart break, an’ she cahnt sit dere on de dest at all. Anyhow she’s feared to wait till Young Tinky comes home, ’cause she don’t know what he’ll say when he finds anoder egg gone, an’ she’s in dat misery dat she don’t know what to do. Den she tink of her Aunt, Ou’ Reyer, de Blue Crane, an’ she fly off to her where she’s a-fis’in’ in de reeds, an’ she yust up an’ tell her de hull tale of it.
“‘So darie Ou’ Jackalse’s up to his tricks agen, is he?’ ses Ou’ Reyer. ‘Well, he’s meddle wid de birds before, an’ dis time we’ll teach him to don’t do it no more. Now you yust go home an’ sit on de nest agen, an’ I’ll come in a minute or two—den well be ready for him.’
“Little missis she go back, an’ in a minute or two Ou’ Reyer follows, an’ she hide herse’f in de top o’ de willow-tree over de nest. ‘Now for Ou’ Jackalse,’ ses she.
“Well, it ain’t but a little while rill here come Ou’ Jackalse agen, wid de same ole scratch! scratch! scratch! an’ de same ole terr’fyin’ words—‘Drop me down anoder egg or I’ll come up an’ eat you,’ ses he.
“‘Make like you’s a-gun’ to drop him one,’ whispers Ou’ Reyer; an’ little Missis Tinky she make like she’s a-doin’ it.
“Ou’ Jackalse he rise up on his hine legs, an’ he put his paws agen de tree, an’ he open his mouf an’ shut his eyes, an’ he fair feel de taste o’ dat egg a’ready. An’ den, yust den, Ou’ Reyer she lean out over Missis Tinky an’ she open her big long beak, an’, swock! she drop a great big bull-frog right into Ou’ Jackalse’s froat.
“Wow! but dere was a chokin’ an’ a squeal-in’ den. Ou’ Jackalse he yump an’ he roll, an’ he fling hisse’f along de ground a-tryin’ to cough up darie fat bull-frog, an’ darie ou’ bull-frog he puff an’ he wiggle an’ he slip down an’ down till dere he is in Ou’ Jackalse’s tummy, a-hoppin’ an’ a-floppin’ an’ a-croakin’ an’ a-gloakin’ till Ou’ Jackalse is yust dat scared dat he light out f’m dere plump across de scenery. An’ he go dat fast he yust hit de high places as he went an’ never touch’ de low. I tell you Ou’ Jackalse was scared.
“He don’t stop nudder till he’s yust dat puffed out dat he roll over an’ over like a shot hare, an’ he’s so long a-gettin’ over it dat he forget what day it happen in. Ever since den, too, de birds all click deir beakses at him, an’ chatter at him, an’ ax him how he likes Tinky eggs; an’ dat’s what make him so shamed he ain’t never cocked up his tail no more—he yust cahnt do it.”
“And serve him right,” cried all the children in chorus.
Old Hendrik only shook his head.
Chapter Ten.Why Little Hare has such a Short Tail.Old Hendrik was standing by the corner of the house, milking pail in hand, watching the slow procession of the cows homeward from the veldt. The calves in the kraal clamoured insistently to hasten their mammies home; those mammies answered now and then with a patient bellow of assurance as they continued their placid pace, and Old Hendrik seemed to be as vacant of thought or stir as they. But when little Annie came strolling out to enjoy the never-staling delight of seeing the headlong rush of each calf in turn to its mammy, the old Hottentot looked down at her and begun without further warning. “Ole King Lion had five cows, an’ t’ree o’ dem was wild an’ wand’ry.”“Oh!” cried Annie, “I never heard of that. And what did he do with them, Ou’ Ta’?”“Why, milk ’em, o’ course,” returned Old Hendrik. “What else? An’ some o’ de milk his ole missis an’ de kleinkies drink, an’ some he drink hisse’f. De rest he make de butter wid to grease all deir ole noses.”“Oh, how funny!” cried Annie in huge delight. “And did he mind them himself?”“Course not!” retorted Hendrik, a little scornfully. “Ain’t he a king? Kings don’t mind cows. Not him. He yust make all de animals try deir turn at it, but dese t’ree wand’ry ones dey’d keep gettin’ away, an’ den de animal dat come home wid dem t’ree missin’—well, he’d be a-missin’ too, an’ Ole King Lion he’d be dat much fatter.“Well, it come Little Hahsie’s turn at last—Klein Hahsie, dat you call Little Hare, dat skellum Little Hare—but he yust prance out behind dem cows in de mawnin’ wid a high ole hop an a skip. He’d show ’em about mindin’ five bally ole cows, he would, ses he. He sticks a green twig in his mouf, an’ he biffs his ole hat down over his eyes, an’ he gets dem cows down in a hook o’ de river an’ squots down on a little koppiekie to watch ’em, all nice an’ all right. ‘Mind five ole cows,’ ses he; ‘by de jimminy, gi’e me sometin’ easier—if dere is any.’“Well, it did look all serene-o, wid him dis side of ’em an’ de river bent all round ’em on de oder sides, an’ plenty o’ grass an’ water an’ nice trees about. ‘Sho,’ ses he, ‘dem cows stray off? Dey’s got mo’ sense,’ ses he.“It was yust sich a easy yob dat in a while his eye ’gun a-wanderin’ round to see what else dere is dere besides de cows an’ de rest of it. An’ fust he sees a little bushiekie, wid green leaves like he swears he ain’t seen afore, or leastways he ain’t ’xamined much; so o’ course he hops over to dat an’ pretends to tas’e it, an feel it, an’ turn it over gen’ally.“Den he sees de blesbuck wanderin’ past, wid de teenty little buckies whimperin’ an’ nosin’ ahter deir mammies, an’ fust he squot an’ watch ’em, an’ den he get to feelin’ cussed, an’ he fair hop round ’em to scare ’em an’ make ’em flurry, till deir mammies turn round an’ chase him out o’ dat. Next he slant his eye at de spruit an’ tinks he’ll yust sa’nter down an’ frow stones at Ou’ Sculpat, de Tortoise, an’ ax him what’s his latest time for a mile wid a flyin’ start. Den he can hear Ou’ Sculpat use some rocky ole words.“But when he gets down to de spruit Ou’ Sculpat ain’t dere at all, an’ dat make him hoppin’ mad. He’s yust dat mad he chucks stones into de water an’ savages de reeds for anoder five minutes on end. Den he looks up an’ dere he sees de honey-bird a-whickerin’ about. ‘Whatto!’ ses Hahsie. ‘Dere’s honey somewheres. Here’s on to it like one man.’“Well, he hops on ahter de honey-bird, an’ he hops on an’ on, tinkin’ every mile he’s gun’ to get to dat honey soon. An’ den here comes a man ridin’ along, an’ he sees de honey-bird too, an’ he ’gins to folio’ as well. Hahsie looks at him once, an’ he sizes his face up. ‘Dat lets me out,’ ses he to hisse’f. ‘Dat face ain’t a-gun’ to stand me gettin’ any o’ dat honey. I’d about better turn back.’“So he turns back, but de day’s got dat hot an’ de shade under de little bushiekies is dat cool, he tinks he’ll rest him a little while an’ den go on agen. Wid dat he finds a nice bush an’ squots him down. An’ you know what’s bound to happen den—he pop off to sleep.“Along in de afternoon, when de day gets a bit cooler, he wake up an’ open his eyes. ‘Hello!’ ses he, ‘where’s dem cows by dis time?’ Den he rub his eyes an’ he grin. ‘One ting anyhow,’ ses he, ‘if Ole King Lion don’t eat again till he eat me for dis, den he’s mighty liable to die o’ starvation.’“But when he gets back to de hook o’ de river, dere’s de two quiet ole cows all right, but de t’ree wand’ry ones—well, dey’s wandered. He look round an’ round, an’ he hop dis way an’ dat, but he don’t find hide nor hair o’ dem t’ree, till at last it’s about time to be startin’ for de kraal wid dese two. He takes one more long ole look round, but it ain’t no use, it don’t find dem cows, an’ so he starts dese two for home.“He ain’t a-goin’ far wid ’em dough. He yust folio’s on till de two can see de kraal, an’ den he pops back to de place where de oders was lost. Now dere was a long ole, rocky ole, bushy ole island in de river dere, wid rocks stickin’ up all de way across de water to it, so Little Hahsie can cross wid some tall hoppin’. An’ he crossed, you bet he crossed mighty smart—an’ he find him a snug little place all in a patch o’ big boulders an’ bushes an’ trees. ‘Here’s me,’ ses he, ‘till I sees what’s a-goin’ to happen.’“Well, he ain’t dere very long ’fore here comes Ole King Lion, yust a-gur-r-rowlin’ an’ a-pur-rowlin an’ a-singin’ out, ‘Where’s dat Klein Hahsie dat went out so high an’ smarty dis mawnin’? Lemme yust find him, dat’s all!’ You bet Little Hahsie lie low den, an’ wish dere was big wings to him as well as long legs an’ short ’uns.“But Ole King Lion couldn’t find him. He ramp an’ he stamp, an’ he squot down like he’s goin’ to be sick an’ brings up a whackin’ ole roar dat fair shakes de island, but he don’t start Little Hahsie, ’cause Little Hahsie’s too tremblin’ to shift a foot, an’ by’n’by King Lion he go off to roar up some oder spot. ‘Dat’s a bit more like what I likes,’ ses Hahsie den.“So at last it come dark, an’ de lion was far enough off, an’ Little Hahsie hop out to stretch his legs an’ tink a bit. ‘But I wonder how I’ll do now when I goes back home to-morro’,’ ses he.“Well, to-morro’ come, an’ Hahsie he tink dis way an’ dat way, but he make so little out of it dat he stop anoder night on de island, an’ he ’gin to feel mighty longin’ for home, I tell you. An’ nex’ day it on’y got worse, till it got dat bad about sundown he yust couldn’t stand it no longer. ‘Here’s off home,’ ses he, ‘an’ chance de chips. I’ll bet I’ll manage somehow.’“In a while he gets home to King Lion’s place, an’ it’s as dark as billy-o, an’ he squots down by de end o’ de barn to see what’s happenin’. By’n’by out comes his ole missis f’m de kitchen where she’s a-washin’ up ahter supper. ‘Sh—shee!’ ses he, as low as he could for her to hear him.“She tink she know dat sound, an’ she come up to him to see who it was, an’ she yust open her mouf to let out one big squeal, but he nabs her by de ear in time. ‘If you don’t stop dat row, ole missis,’ ses he, ‘I’ll bite your long fool ears off,’ ses he.“‘But we all tink you was dead,’ ses she.“‘Hmp!’ ses he; ‘an’ I s’pose you’s a’ready got anoder ole man in your eye?’ ses he.“‘I hain’t,’ ses she. ‘One’s enough if he’s bin like you. But when Ole King Lion found de t’ree cows yestiday, an’ you wasn’t wid ’em, he made sure you was dead.’“‘An’ was he sorry?’ axes Hahsie.“‘Yes; he said it was sich a waste o’ meat, him not gettin’ you to eat,’ ses she.“‘Him he blowed!’ ses Hahsie. ‘You go an’ bring me out sometin’ nice to eat, an’ den I’ll see about him. He may be big an’ ugly, but he ain’t so smart as some folk I knows.’“Well, his missis she bring him out a mealie pap pot wid lots in it yet, an’ some milk, an’ he tucks a fair ole little lot inside him. ‘Dat’s all right,’ ses he when he finis’. ‘Now, you yust fetch me de rake, an’ den skip back an’ leave de kitchen door open.’“She fetches de rake an’ hands it to him. ‘But what’s you goin’ to do wid dat?’ ses she.“‘Get out o’ dis an’ shut up, or I’ll do it to you instead!’ ses he, makin’ a comb at her wid de rake, till she fair flew back to de kitchen.“Well, he looks at de lights in de winda, an’ he tinks o’ de good ole times he’s had dere, an’ den he fair lands into hisse’f wid dat rake. He tears all his clo’es an’ he tears all his hair, an’ he gashes big streaks in his face an’ his hands an’ his ribses, till he looks like he’s yust fell into a big ole mimosa an’ bin drag’ out by de heels. Den he stagger into de kitchen an’ drop on de floor all of a heap. ‘Where’s Ou’ Doctor Jackalse?’ ses he—‘bring Ou’ Jackalse, for I’s yust about gone up.’“His wife yust gi’en one big ole squeal an’ all de house was upside down. Here dey all comes a runnin’ an’ a yappin’, an’ here’s King Lion troo ’em all. ‘Hello, you skellum,’ ses he, ‘where come yeh from now?’“Little Hahsie opens one eye an’ looks at him. ‘From where dem t’ree cows horn me nea’ly to deaf, ’cause I stopped ’em wanderin’,’ ses he. ‘I yust got here to-night to see my ole missis agen ’fore I pegs out.’“‘Allah Crachty now!’ ses King Lion, ‘ain’t dat funny! But where’s darie Ou’ Jackalse? Let’s have dis Hahsie doctored in less’n two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’“So dey puts Little Hahsie to bed, an’ Ou’ Jackalse turn everybody out o’ de room while he can ’xamine him. He look him over, an’ he turn him over, an’ he feel him over, an’ den—well den, Ou’ Jackalse he wink at Ole Hahsie, slow an’ solemn, an’ Ole Hahsie he wink at Ou’ Jackalse half a-grinnin’.“‘I tink you’ back’s pretty bad,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘I ’specs you’ll ha’ to stop in bed dese nex’ days or two, an’ nice bits o’ scoff to tempt your appetite.’“‘Yes,’ ses Hahsie. ‘A bit o’ sugar cane or a water-millon now ’ud do me pretty fine.’“So Little Hahsie has to stop in bed for a week, an’ all de time his wife’s a-grumblin’ at him ’cause she has to wait on him, an tellin’ him she’ll tell King Lion. An’ Hahsie tells her she’d yust better do it, dat’s all. But all dis time he’s s’posed to a-ketched sich a fair ole cold dat he cahnt har’ly whisper, an’ his back’s dat bad he cahnt har’ly bend it.“Well, come de end o’ de week an’ King Lion ’gun to smell a rat. ‘To-day you can go an’ work in de to’acco lands,’ ses he.“Little Hahsie don’t like dat, but he has to go an’ git hold. He lifts dat hoe, an’ he look at dat row, an’ he squint out on de grass alongside an’ see a nice round Aard-Vark hole. But he don’t look de oder way, else he’d a-seen King Lion hidin’ hisse’f to watch him. ‘To’acco hoein’s worse’n watchin’ cows,’ ses Hahsie, as he bent his back an’ put his hoe to work.“Now de day was yust de sort o’ day for makin’ you feel good, an’ Hahsie hadn’t hoed ten yards ’fore he forgot all about everytin’ but wishin’ he was out on de veldt. An’ all de time King Lion in his hidin’ place was watchin’ an’ watchin’ till at last he stick his head up an’ shout out—‘Hahsie! Klein Hahsie!’“‘Here I is!’ ses Hahsie, clear out an’ yumpin’ up, forgettin’ dat cold an’ dat sore back he’s s’posed to be sick wid.“King Lion he ses yust one word—‘Ho!’ ses he, an’ he make a forty mile spring to ketch Ole Hahsie.“An’ Hahsie he ses on’y one word too—‘Oh!’ ses he, an’ he make a fifty mile dive for darie Aard-Vark hole, an’ he drops down it out o’ sight yust as Ole King Lion claws de tail off him, all but de stump.“‘By jimminy! dat skellum!’ ses King Lion outside.“‘Allah Crachty! dat close shave!’ ses Hahsie inside.“Well, King Lion he waited an’ he waited, but it wahnt no use at all, for Klein Hahsie he didn’t wait two shakes, but he sets to work an’ digs out at anoder place, a long way off in de mealies, an’ pops off over de sky line dat way. But he’s mighty careful to keep out of Ole King Lion’s way since den, for he got sich a scare dat time dat he hain’t never manage to grow a long tail agen, like he used to have afore.“An’ if you want’s to know yust what a hairy ole scare he got,” continued Old Hendrik, “you notice him nex’ time you sees him. You’ll see a white patch on his tail—dat’s gone white wid de fright he got when de great big claws was a-grabbin’ de rest o’ de tail off. But here’s de cows, an’ I’s got to get to de milkin’,” broke off the old story-teller, swinging his pail and starting for the kraal.
Old Hendrik was standing by the corner of the house, milking pail in hand, watching the slow procession of the cows homeward from the veldt. The calves in the kraal clamoured insistently to hasten their mammies home; those mammies answered now and then with a patient bellow of assurance as they continued their placid pace, and Old Hendrik seemed to be as vacant of thought or stir as they. But when little Annie came strolling out to enjoy the never-staling delight of seeing the headlong rush of each calf in turn to its mammy, the old Hottentot looked down at her and begun without further warning. “Ole King Lion had five cows, an’ t’ree o’ dem was wild an’ wand’ry.”
“Oh!” cried Annie, “I never heard of that. And what did he do with them, Ou’ Ta’?”
“Why, milk ’em, o’ course,” returned Old Hendrik. “What else? An’ some o’ de milk his ole missis an’ de kleinkies drink, an’ some he drink hisse’f. De rest he make de butter wid to grease all deir ole noses.”
“Oh, how funny!” cried Annie in huge delight. “And did he mind them himself?”
“Course not!” retorted Hendrik, a little scornfully. “Ain’t he a king? Kings don’t mind cows. Not him. He yust make all de animals try deir turn at it, but dese t’ree wand’ry ones dey’d keep gettin’ away, an’ den de animal dat come home wid dem t’ree missin’—well, he’d be a-missin’ too, an’ Ole King Lion he’d be dat much fatter.
“Well, it come Little Hahsie’s turn at last—Klein Hahsie, dat you call Little Hare, dat skellum Little Hare—but he yust prance out behind dem cows in de mawnin’ wid a high ole hop an a skip. He’d show ’em about mindin’ five bally ole cows, he would, ses he. He sticks a green twig in his mouf, an’ he biffs his ole hat down over his eyes, an’ he gets dem cows down in a hook o’ de river an’ squots down on a little koppiekie to watch ’em, all nice an’ all right. ‘Mind five ole cows,’ ses he; ‘by de jimminy, gi’e me sometin’ easier—if dere is any.’
“Well, it did look all serene-o, wid him dis side of ’em an’ de river bent all round ’em on de oder sides, an’ plenty o’ grass an’ water an’ nice trees about. ‘Sho,’ ses he, ‘dem cows stray off? Dey’s got mo’ sense,’ ses he.
“It was yust sich a easy yob dat in a while his eye ’gun a-wanderin’ round to see what else dere is dere besides de cows an’ de rest of it. An’ fust he sees a little bushiekie, wid green leaves like he swears he ain’t seen afore, or leastways he ain’t ’xamined much; so o’ course he hops over to dat an’ pretends to tas’e it, an feel it, an’ turn it over gen’ally.
“Den he sees de blesbuck wanderin’ past, wid de teenty little buckies whimperin’ an’ nosin’ ahter deir mammies, an’ fust he squot an’ watch ’em, an’ den he get to feelin’ cussed, an’ he fair hop round ’em to scare ’em an’ make ’em flurry, till deir mammies turn round an’ chase him out o’ dat. Next he slant his eye at de spruit an’ tinks he’ll yust sa’nter down an’ frow stones at Ou’ Sculpat, de Tortoise, an’ ax him what’s his latest time for a mile wid a flyin’ start. Den he can hear Ou’ Sculpat use some rocky ole words.
“But when he gets down to de spruit Ou’ Sculpat ain’t dere at all, an’ dat make him hoppin’ mad. He’s yust dat mad he chucks stones into de water an’ savages de reeds for anoder five minutes on end. Den he looks up an’ dere he sees de honey-bird a-whickerin’ about. ‘Whatto!’ ses Hahsie. ‘Dere’s honey somewheres. Here’s on to it like one man.’
“Well, he hops on ahter de honey-bird, an’ he hops on an’ on, tinkin’ every mile he’s gun’ to get to dat honey soon. An’ den here comes a man ridin’ along, an’ he sees de honey-bird too, an’ he ’gins to folio’ as well. Hahsie looks at him once, an’ he sizes his face up. ‘Dat lets me out,’ ses he to hisse’f. ‘Dat face ain’t a-gun’ to stand me gettin’ any o’ dat honey. I’d about better turn back.’
“So he turns back, but de day’s got dat hot an’ de shade under de little bushiekies is dat cool, he tinks he’ll rest him a little while an’ den go on agen. Wid dat he finds a nice bush an’ squots him down. An’ you know what’s bound to happen den—he pop off to sleep.
“Along in de afternoon, when de day gets a bit cooler, he wake up an’ open his eyes. ‘Hello!’ ses he, ‘where’s dem cows by dis time?’ Den he rub his eyes an’ he grin. ‘One ting anyhow,’ ses he, ‘if Ole King Lion don’t eat again till he eat me for dis, den he’s mighty liable to die o’ starvation.’
“But when he gets back to de hook o’ de river, dere’s de two quiet ole cows all right, but de t’ree wand’ry ones—well, dey’s wandered. He look round an’ round, an’ he hop dis way an’ dat, but he don’t find hide nor hair o’ dem t’ree, till at last it’s about time to be startin’ for de kraal wid dese two. He takes one more long ole look round, but it ain’t no use, it don’t find dem cows, an’ so he starts dese two for home.
“He ain’t a-goin’ far wid ’em dough. He yust folio’s on till de two can see de kraal, an’ den he pops back to de place where de oders was lost. Now dere was a long ole, rocky ole, bushy ole island in de river dere, wid rocks stickin’ up all de way across de water to it, so Little Hahsie can cross wid some tall hoppin’. An’ he crossed, you bet he crossed mighty smart—an’ he find him a snug little place all in a patch o’ big boulders an’ bushes an’ trees. ‘Here’s me,’ ses he, ‘till I sees what’s a-goin’ to happen.’
“Well, he ain’t dere very long ’fore here comes Ole King Lion, yust a-gur-r-rowlin’ an’ a-pur-rowlin an’ a-singin’ out, ‘Where’s dat Klein Hahsie dat went out so high an’ smarty dis mawnin’? Lemme yust find him, dat’s all!’ You bet Little Hahsie lie low den, an’ wish dere was big wings to him as well as long legs an’ short ’uns.
“But Ole King Lion couldn’t find him. He ramp an’ he stamp, an’ he squot down like he’s goin’ to be sick an’ brings up a whackin’ ole roar dat fair shakes de island, but he don’t start Little Hahsie, ’cause Little Hahsie’s too tremblin’ to shift a foot, an’ by’n’by King Lion he go off to roar up some oder spot. ‘Dat’s a bit more like what I likes,’ ses Hahsie den.
“So at last it come dark, an’ de lion was far enough off, an’ Little Hahsie hop out to stretch his legs an’ tink a bit. ‘But I wonder how I’ll do now when I goes back home to-morro’,’ ses he.
“Well, to-morro’ come, an’ Hahsie he tink dis way an’ dat way, but he make so little out of it dat he stop anoder night on de island, an’ he ’gin to feel mighty longin’ for home, I tell you. An’ nex’ day it on’y got worse, till it got dat bad about sundown he yust couldn’t stand it no longer. ‘Here’s off home,’ ses he, ‘an’ chance de chips. I’ll bet I’ll manage somehow.’
“In a while he gets home to King Lion’s place, an’ it’s as dark as billy-o, an’ he squots down by de end o’ de barn to see what’s happenin’. By’n’by out comes his ole missis f’m de kitchen where she’s a-washin’ up ahter supper. ‘Sh—shee!’ ses he, as low as he could for her to hear him.
“She tink she know dat sound, an’ she come up to him to see who it was, an’ she yust open her mouf to let out one big squeal, but he nabs her by de ear in time. ‘If you don’t stop dat row, ole missis,’ ses he, ‘I’ll bite your long fool ears off,’ ses he.
“‘But we all tink you was dead,’ ses she.
“‘Hmp!’ ses he; ‘an’ I s’pose you’s a’ready got anoder ole man in your eye?’ ses he.
“‘I hain’t,’ ses she. ‘One’s enough if he’s bin like you. But when Ole King Lion found de t’ree cows yestiday, an’ you wasn’t wid ’em, he made sure you was dead.’
“‘An’ was he sorry?’ axes Hahsie.
“‘Yes; he said it was sich a waste o’ meat, him not gettin’ you to eat,’ ses she.
“‘Him he blowed!’ ses Hahsie. ‘You go an’ bring me out sometin’ nice to eat, an’ den I’ll see about him. He may be big an’ ugly, but he ain’t so smart as some folk I knows.’
“Well, his missis she bring him out a mealie pap pot wid lots in it yet, an’ some milk, an’ he tucks a fair ole little lot inside him. ‘Dat’s all right,’ ses he when he finis’. ‘Now, you yust fetch me de rake, an’ den skip back an’ leave de kitchen door open.’
“She fetches de rake an’ hands it to him. ‘But what’s you goin’ to do wid dat?’ ses she.
“‘Get out o’ dis an’ shut up, or I’ll do it to you instead!’ ses he, makin’ a comb at her wid de rake, till she fair flew back to de kitchen.
“Well, he looks at de lights in de winda, an’ he tinks o’ de good ole times he’s had dere, an’ den he fair lands into hisse’f wid dat rake. He tears all his clo’es an’ he tears all his hair, an’ he gashes big streaks in his face an’ his hands an’ his ribses, till he looks like he’s yust fell into a big ole mimosa an’ bin drag’ out by de heels. Den he stagger into de kitchen an’ drop on de floor all of a heap. ‘Where’s Ou’ Doctor Jackalse?’ ses he—‘bring Ou’ Jackalse, for I’s yust about gone up.’
“His wife yust gi’en one big ole squeal an’ all de house was upside down. Here dey all comes a runnin’ an’ a yappin’, an’ here’s King Lion troo ’em all. ‘Hello, you skellum,’ ses he, ‘where come yeh from now?’
“Little Hahsie opens one eye an’ looks at him. ‘From where dem t’ree cows horn me nea’ly to deaf, ’cause I stopped ’em wanderin’,’ ses he. ‘I yust got here to-night to see my ole missis agen ’fore I pegs out.’
“‘Allah Crachty now!’ ses King Lion, ‘ain’t dat funny! But where’s darie Ou’ Jackalse? Let’s have dis Hahsie doctored in less’n two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’
“So dey puts Little Hahsie to bed, an’ Ou’ Jackalse turn everybody out o’ de room while he can ’xamine him. He look him over, an’ he turn him over, an’ he feel him over, an’ den—well den, Ou’ Jackalse he wink at Ole Hahsie, slow an’ solemn, an’ Ole Hahsie he wink at Ou’ Jackalse half a-grinnin’.
“‘I tink you’ back’s pretty bad,’ ses Ou’ Jackalse. ‘I ’specs you’ll ha’ to stop in bed dese nex’ days or two, an’ nice bits o’ scoff to tempt your appetite.’
“‘Yes,’ ses Hahsie. ‘A bit o’ sugar cane or a water-millon now ’ud do me pretty fine.’
“So Little Hahsie has to stop in bed for a week, an’ all de time his wife’s a-grumblin’ at him ’cause she has to wait on him, an tellin’ him she’ll tell King Lion. An’ Hahsie tells her she’d yust better do it, dat’s all. But all dis time he’s s’posed to a-ketched sich a fair ole cold dat he cahnt har’ly whisper, an’ his back’s dat bad he cahnt har’ly bend it.
“Well, come de end o’ de week an’ King Lion ’gun to smell a rat. ‘To-day you can go an’ work in de to’acco lands,’ ses he.
“Little Hahsie don’t like dat, but he has to go an’ git hold. He lifts dat hoe, an’ he look at dat row, an’ he squint out on de grass alongside an’ see a nice round Aard-Vark hole. But he don’t look de oder way, else he’d a-seen King Lion hidin’ hisse’f to watch him. ‘To’acco hoein’s worse’n watchin’ cows,’ ses Hahsie, as he bent his back an’ put his hoe to work.
“Now de day was yust de sort o’ day for makin’ you feel good, an’ Hahsie hadn’t hoed ten yards ’fore he forgot all about everytin’ but wishin’ he was out on de veldt. An’ all de time King Lion in his hidin’ place was watchin’ an’ watchin’ till at last he stick his head up an’ shout out—‘Hahsie! Klein Hahsie!’
“‘Here I is!’ ses Hahsie, clear out an’ yumpin’ up, forgettin’ dat cold an’ dat sore back he’s s’posed to be sick wid.
“King Lion he ses yust one word—‘Ho!’ ses he, an’ he make a forty mile spring to ketch Ole Hahsie.
“An’ Hahsie he ses on’y one word too—‘Oh!’ ses he, an’ he make a fifty mile dive for darie Aard-Vark hole, an’ he drops down it out o’ sight yust as Ole King Lion claws de tail off him, all but de stump.
“‘By jimminy! dat skellum!’ ses King Lion outside.
“‘Allah Crachty! dat close shave!’ ses Hahsie inside.
“Well, King Lion he waited an’ he waited, but it wahnt no use at all, for Klein Hahsie he didn’t wait two shakes, but he sets to work an’ digs out at anoder place, a long way off in de mealies, an’ pops off over de sky line dat way. But he’s mighty careful to keep out of Ole King Lion’s way since den, for he got sich a scare dat time dat he hain’t never manage to grow a long tail agen, like he used to have afore.
“An’ if you want’s to know yust what a hairy ole scare he got,” continued Old Hendrik, “you notice him nex’ time you sees him. You’ll see a white patch on his tail—dat’s gone white wid de fright he got when de great big claws was a-grabbin’ de rest o’ de tail off. But here’s de cows, an’ I’s got to get to de milkin’,” broke off the old story-teller, swinging his pail and starting for the kraal.
Chapter Eleven.The Bargain for the Little Silver Fishes.The youngest of the three children had brought in a tortoise from the spruit behind the house, and was half-indignant and half-amused at the stolid refusal of Mr Tortoise to put out his head in response to any stroking of his shell, or to any shaking or bumping on the ground. “He’s just that cunning, Ou’ Ta’, I never did see anything like him,” cried the little boy to Old Hendrik.“Well, he is tink hisse’f mighty cunnin’ sometimes,” answered the old Hottentot genially. “But dere was once now, when Klein Hahsie want him to ketch him de little silver fis’es.”“Oh, but that Klein Hahsie—that Little Hare—he is just such a skellum!” broke in Annie.“Well,” hesitated Old Hendrik, “Little Hahsie he is a bit smart, but den he don’t get nob’dy’s bones broke anyhow. An’ besides, Ou’ Sculpat dere—de Tortoise—he was yust too lazy for ornament, let alone use.“It was a’ dis way. Little Hahsie he was a-hoppin’ an’ a-floppin’ along down de spruit one day, an’ he come to where de water was a-runnin’ clear an’ fine, an’ what should he see in de big water-hole but all de little silver fis’es yust a-glintin’ an’ a-twinklin’. Allah Crachty! he fair squot right down an’ watch ’em, dey look dat good an’ fine.“But Little Hahsie ain’t yust like a otter in de water, dough dere ain’t no otter of ’em all could beat him at wantin’ dem fis’es. So he squot, an’ he study, an’ he tink till at last he see Ou’ Sculpat a-danderin’ down, an’ makin’ no mo’ to do but fair flop right in to de water, an’ sort o’ hang in dere wid his nose yust out, like a bird might be a-hangin’ in de air wid his beak catchin’ on to a cloud.“Little Hahsie fair cock his one year at dat to see Ou’ Sculpat do it so easy, an’ so twenty-shillin’s-in-de-pound comfy like. ‘By jimminy, Sculpat, you looks at home all right,’ ses he.“‘I is,’ ses Sculpat, an’ he don’t take so much trouble as to turn his head when he speak to Little Hahsie behind him, much less to turn his body. He sort o’ shift one eye half-way round, an’ dat’s quite enough too, tink he.“‘An’ what does you do when you is at home?’ ax Hahsie.“‘Dis,’ ses Sculpat, an’ he don’t take de trouble to keep dat one eye half-way round, but let it swing back like a swivel.“Little Hahsie he flick his years like he tink someb’dy ought to yust kick de stuffin’ out o’ Sculpat. ‘But,’ ses he, ‘you has to eat What you do den?’“‘Eat,’ ses Sculpat—yust de one word.“‘Oh,’ ses Hahsie, like he’d like to do dat kickin’ hisse’f. ‘Den you does ha’ to shift yourse’f a bit sometimes.’“‘But I don’t,’ ses Sculpat. ‘I’s in my dinner now—dese water-weeds!’“‘Oh, you is, is you?’ ses Little Hahsie, an’ he’s yust dat hairy over it dat he biffs de ground wid his back leg an’ he yump over his own shadda. ‘You’s fair dat lazy you’d rader eat weeds, when all de time dem pretty little silver fis’es is a-twinklin’ an’ a-slantin’ roun’ you! Allah Crachty!’“‘What’s I want wid twinkly little fis’es?’ ses Sculpat. ‘Weeds is nice now, but fis’es—’“‘You can keep all de weeds if you gi’es me de fis’es!’ ses Hahsie, like he never did hear no such a fathead notion.“‘An’ how if I keeps all de weeds anyhow, an’ lets you do de same wid de twinkly little fis’es, hey?’ ses Sculpat, an’ his face kind o’ shine like he’d be a-grinnin’ if it wahnt too much trouble.“Little Hahsie squot down agen at dat What Ou’ Sculpat ses is yust so right flat an’ square dat Hahsie he feel right flat too. But he see de little silver fis’es a-flashin’ agen an’ he fair cahnt give up yet. ‘Dat’s a’ right,’ ses he; ‘but I’s got my good clo’es on, an’ dey won’t do to get wet. What say you now if you was to ketch me out a little string of ’em, hey?’“‘What ses I?’ ses Sculpat. ‘Rats!’“Little Hahsie he’s yust dat mad he pick up one foot to go, but he’s yust dat gone on dem fis’es dat he put anoder foot down to stop. ‘Look-a’-here,’ ses he. ‘If you ketch me out some o’ dem fis’, den I’ll fetch you lots o’ de nicest garden stuff from de farm yonder.’“‘Garden stuff!’ ses Sculpat. ‘Huh!—here’s weeds!’“‘An’ what if I eats up dem weeds?—what den?’ ses Hahsie.“‘Dere’s mo’ weeds in de nex’ water-hole,’ ses Sculpat.“‘But I’ll eat dem too,’ ses Little Hahsie.“Ou’ Sculpat he yust lift his head clear o’ de water, an’ he stick it straight up, and he laugh as quiet an as ghosty as if dat’s de richest ting he’s ever hear. ‘Oh! you yust go on an’ eat ’em,’ ses he. ‘Do go on an’ eat ’em—an’ by dat time your little tummy ’ll be swell’ an’ swell’ till you’s all blowed up like a poisoned pup. Ho, yis! you start in an’ eat ’em, do!’ an Ou’ Sculpat he laugh like he’s never a-gun’ to stop.“Dat make Little Hahsie dat huffy he fair snift agen. ‘You might laugh some mo’,’ ses he. ‘Why don’t you go on an’ laugh some mo’? You’ moufs big enough, an’ you’s ugly enough.’“‘But I ain’t half as ugly as you’d be if you eat all de water-weeds, or dropped in an’ tried to ketch de little twinkly fis’es,’ ses Sculpat; an’ he laugh agen worser an’ ghostier dan ever.“Dat stir up Little Hahsie till he’s fair clawin’ mad, but yust when you tink he’s ’gun to begin to ploppin’ out bad words, right den he seem to wilt down into quiet, an’ his face straighten out all de wrinkles like a boy when you gi’es him sixpence for sweets. He tinks dere’s anoder way, an’ all he ses is—‘All right, Sculpat. Good mawnin’,’ and he offs, an’ he don’t turn round needer, nor let on at all when he hear Ou’ Sculpat laughin’ some mo’ behind him. He on’y grin an’ grin.“But ’stead o’ goin’ home he goes off to see Ou’ Waxa, de Honey-bird. ‘I wants some honey,’ ses he.“‘So does I,’ ses Waxa; ‘an’ wouldn’t I like to get some too!’“‘But ain’t you got none?’ ses Little Hahsie, wid his bofe years cocked straight up wid s’prise. ‘Ain’t you got yust a leetle teenty bit? Yust a scrape o’ honey’ll do me.’“‘Dere’s de place where de honey was,’ ses Waxa, showin’ him de hole in de tree. ‘I ’specs dere’s all de scrape you wants—but I don’t know about de honey.’“‘De drippin’s ’ll do. What you’s dropped ’ll do me,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Ou’ Sculpat he ain’t never taste honey yet, so he won’t know de diffrence of a bit o’ dirt or two. De calabas’ I’ll put it in’ll look big all de same, weder dere’s lots o’ honey inside it or on’y one drop,’—an’ wid dat he pulls out a big calabasie wid a long bottle neck, an’ ’gins to scrape up de drippin’s what Ou’ Waxa drop when she pull de bits o’ de comb out o de tree.“Well, it come de nex’ day, an’ Ou’ Sculpat was dere in de water-hole, feelin’ de weeds agen his mouf an’ not takin’ de trouble to make up his mind weder he’ll eat or not, when here comes Klein Hahsie, yust a-hoppin’ an’ a-skippin’, wid a calabas’ in his one hand, an’ a-beatin’ it wid his toder like a drum. An’ all de time he’s a-keepin’ time wid singin’:—“Hahsie, Hahsie;Calabasie;Dum! Dum! Dam!“Ou’ Sculpat open his eyes at dat. He turn his head, an’ on dat Little Hahsie gives a extry kick an’ a stride. ‘Here you is, Sculpat!’ ses he. ‘Taste dis!’ an’ he sticks a long feder into de calabas’ an’ pulls it out wid a flouris’ an’ holds it up. ‘Open your mouf, an’ shut you’ eyes, an’ see what comes dat’s spiffin’ nice,’ ses he.“Ou’ Sculpat he wave hisse’f to de side o’ de pool like he dunno weder it’s wort while or not; but he comes out an’ he stick his head up an’ open his mouf an’ shut his eyes—an’ dat’s why he don’t see de grin come in Little Hahsie’s face, nor’ de double extry flouris’ he give de feder. Den Hahsie draw de feder troo Ou’ Sculpat’s mouf an’ out agen.“As soon as he taste dat honey Ou’ Sculpat’s eyes flew wide open an’ his mouf begun a-workin’ all ways at once. ‘Allah Crachty! but dat’s fair fine-o,’ ses he. ‘Yust gi’e me a little teenty bit more o’ dat, won’t you?’“‘Ah, now,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Yestiday when I ax you for some little fis’es you was mighty snifty. To-day I gi’es you some o’ my nice stuff an’ you ses—“Mo.” An’ I ses—“What for?”’“‘Well, I’ll gi’e you a fis’ if you gi’es me some more o’ dat,’ ses Sculpat.“‘Hoho!’ ses Hahsie. ‘Yestiday I offer’ to fetch you garden stuff an’ you ses you’s got weeds. S’pose I says now—“What do I want wid fis’es—I’s got honey?”—eh?’“Ou’ Sculpat he try to tink dat over, an’ dis time it’s Little Hahsie is a-grinnin’. ‘Yestiday you laugh’ at me,’ ses Hahsie. ‘What price you laugh at yourse’f to-day? You wouldn’t gi’e me what you had, but you want me to gi’e you what I got. What’s de difference, Sculpat?’“‘Honey,’ ses Sculpat; ‘an’ you’s got it. How many silver fis’es you want for dat calabas’ o’ honey?’“‘Ten,’ ses Hahsie.“‘Right,’ ses Sculpat. ‘You be here in half an hour an’ I’ll have de ten ready.’“Well, Little Hahsie he hop off wid de same ole drummin’ on de calabas’, an’ de same ole song, ‘Hahsie, Hahsie, Calabasie! Dum! Dum! Dum!’ Ou’ Sculpat he sets to work to ketch dem fis’es.”“But, Ou’ Ta’,” interrupted the eldest boy, “how does Ou’ Sculpat catch fish?”“Ah!” answered the old Hottentot slyly; “dat’s yust what Ou’ Sculpat ain’t never let anyb’dy see yet. Dat’s why he sent Klein Hahsie away till he done it. But anyhow, he ketched dese yere ten, an’ laid ’em out on de green o’ de grass, all white an’ shinin’ silver in de sun; dey looked mighty fine an’ tasty, I can tell you. An’ den along comes Little Hahsie agen wid de calabas’.“‘Here’s de fis’; where’s de honey?’ ses Ou’ Sculpat.“‘Here’s de honey: count de fis’,’ ses Hahsie.“Dey counted out de fis an’ dere was de ten a’ right, an’ one little one beside for bargain. ‘Dat’s de style,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Now open your mouf an’ shut your eyes an’ see if dis stuff ain’t rippin’ nice.’“Ou’ Sculpat he shut his eyes an’ he open his mouf, an’ Little Hahsie he flouris’ de feder out o’ de calabas’ wid a mighty ole twirl, an’ den he draw it troo Ou’ Sculpat’s mouf slow an’ slower till it come out across. Den he yabs it half-way down his froat an’ draw it back. ‘Dere!’ ses he. ‘Ain’t dat nice?’“Ou’ Sculpat he don’t say a word. He yust smack his lips an’ work his mouf an’ den plank it wide open for more.“Little Hahsie he sort o’ consider dat open mouf, an’ he grin into it, an’ he slant his eye into it like he’s lookin’ down it to see what Sculpat had for breakfas’, an’ he pat it under de chin, an’ den, while he’s a-considerin’ it some mo’, Ou’ Sculpat open his eyes an’ ketch ole Hahsie a-squintin’ down his gumses. ‘Well,’ ses he, ‘what about de rest of it?’“‘Dat’s exac’ly what I wants to know,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Dat’s why I’s a-lookin’ down your froat—to see where de rest is went to. Here’s me tipped up de calabas’, an’ den I rub a taste nicely in your mouf, an’ den I drop in all de rest, so you’d have a nice ten minutes suckin’ on it. It drop in a’ right, but, Allah Crachty! where’s it go to? Tell me dat, Sculpat, for dere ain’t no sign of it where I looked.’“Ou’ Sculpat stretch his eyes wide open at dat. ‘It must ha’ gone somewhere,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Hyer’s de calabas’ quite empty for you to see.’“Ou’ Sculpat cock his eye into de calabas’, but he cahnt see nawtin’ dere, an’ he look at Little Hahsie, an’ Little Hahsie look back like dis is de funniest merrikle ever was. Den Sculpat dive into de inside o’ his shell to see if p’r’aps de honey might ha’ got dere, but it ain’t; an’ at last he ses—‘What’s you goin’ to do about it?—you’s got de fis’es.’“‘An’ you’s got de honey,’ ses Little Hahsie.“‘Where’s it den?’ ses Sculpat.“‘I put it into dis end o’ you,’ ses Hahsie. ‘You’s de one to know what’s happen’ to it after dat.’“Ou’ Sculpat he consider a bit. ‘Well, I did feel sometin’ ticklin’ half-way down my froat,’ ses he, ‘but I didn’t feel it no furder.’“‘P’r’aps dat’s de way you’s made inside,’ ses Hahsie; ‘half-way down an’ den a drop.’“Ou’ Sculpat he didn’t say nawtin’ to dat; he stick to business. ‘When’s I to have some mo’?’ ses he.“‘When I wants more fis’,’ ses Hahsie, his big eyes fair a-shinin’ wid wonderin’ about dat honey still.“‘An’ when’s dat?’ ses Sculpat.“‘When I feels like I’d like some,’ ses Hahsie, an’ he don’t grin a bit.“‘To-morro’?’ axes Sculpat.“‘A’ right,’ ses Hahsie. ‘You have de fis’es ready an’ I’ll see about gettin’ some mo’ honey. So long, den,’—an’ Mr Hahsie he picks up de ten fis’es an’ de little one, an’ he offs.“Ou’ Sculpat watch him go a minute. ‘Dat stuff is taste rippin’,’ ses he. Den he flop into de water agen, but he don’t eat any weeds.“Well, de nex’ day dere’s Ou’ Sculpat ready wid de ten fis’es but dere ain’t no little one extry dis time, an’ hyer comes Hahsie wid de same ole drummin’ an’ singin’—‘Hahsie, Hahsie, Calabasie! Dum! Dum! Dum!’“But dis time when Ou’ Sculpat open his mouf an’ shut his eyes he don’t shut ’em; not quite; he keep one eye half-open. Dat’s de way he seen de gay old flouris’ Little Hahsie give de feder, an’ de little little drop o’ honey dere is on it too. Dat’s de way also he seen de grin on Little Hahsie’s face, when Hahsie’s a-lookin’ into his mouf, where he’s touchin’ spots here an’ dere wid de feder, an’ he get dat s’picious dat his one eye spring wide open—an’ dat’s de way Little Hahsie seen yust in time dat he’s a-lookin’.“But Little Hahsie he’s a gamey ole bird, an’ he don’t turn a hair nor let on in any sort o’ way. He yust holds de feder up like he’s waitin’, an’ he ain’t a bit astonish’ when Ou’ Sculpat lets de oder eye spring open too. ‘How’s de taste o’ dat, Sculpat?’ ses he.“‘It’s a-gun’ to taste better when dere’s more on top of it,’ ses Sculpat. ‘Come on wid de rest.’“‘Well,’ ses Hahsie, ‘you ain’t no picaninny. You don’t want me to stick a bib under your chin an’ feed you wid a feder. Here you is—take de calabas’ an’ eat de lot, an’ I’ll take de fis.’“Sculpat he take de calabas’, an’ Hahsie he pick up de fis’; but he ain’t got two skips away before Ou’ Sculpat sings out: ‘Hey yeh! Where’s-dis honey?’“‘Where you’s got it, in de calabas’,’ ses Hahsie.“‘Dat’s yust where I ain’t got it,’ ses Sculpat. ‘Dere’s de calabas’ an’ dere ain’t de honey; you look for yourse’f.’“Little Hahsie look dat astonish’—you never seen no sich astonishment. ‘Why,’ ses he, ‘I went to Ou’ Waxa, de Honey-bird, myse’f wid dat calabas’, so’s to be sure an’ get it full. An’ now I yust turns my back an’ you ses dere ain’t none in it!’“‘An’ dere was yestiday, too,’ ses Sculpat.“‘Yes,’ ses Hahsie, comin’ one step back. ‘Dere was yestiday; an’ I ’specs dat’s what’s de matter to-day, same as ’yestiday. You’s gulluped de lot down in one, an’ now you wants to bluff me out dat you ain’t had none.’“‘Dat sort o’ talk won’t do,’ ses Sculpat ‘Hyer’s de calabas’ an’ hyer ain’t no honey. You can look for yourse’f.’“Hahsie looks, an’ he cahnt see no mo’ inside dat calabas’ dan’ anyb’dy else can see de inside of any other bottle-neck calabas’. But he make like he’s fair astonish’, all de same. ‘By jimminy! it do look like it’s empty,’ ses he. ‘But I’ll tell you what, you let me have dat calabas’ agen, an’ I’ll take it back to Ou’ Waxa an’ ax her how it is dere ain’t no honey in it. An’ to-morro’ when you has de fis’es ready I’ll bring two lots o’ honey, one for to-day as well as to-morro’. I’ll ha’ to go quick, dough, if I’s gun’ to ketch Ou’ Waxa ’fore she go. So long, den,’ an’ he offs wid de calabas’ an de fis’ ’fore you can say rats!“Ou’ Sculpat ses on’y one ting: ‘To-morro’ I has de honey fust’. Den he ins to de water-hole an’ tinks.“Well, to-morro’ comes, an’ de ten fis’es dis time is all laid out in a wheel, wid deir little tails togeder an’ deir heads out, so dey look mighty fine in de sun. But dis time here come Little Hahsie widout no calabas’ at all. ‘Hello!’ ses Sculpat, ‘where’s de honey?’“‘Dat’s yust what Ou’ Waxa said when I took her de calabas’,’ ses Hahsie. ‘An’ dis time she ain’t a-trustin’ me wid de honey. You’s got to bring de fis’es an’ come wi’ me an’ get de honey from her yourse’f.’“‘Well,’ ses Sculpat, ‘I’s gun’ to see dis ting troo dis time. I’s comin’. Show de way, den,’ an’ he slings de fis’es two by two on his back an’ off dey pop.“Off dey pops an’ dey gets five yards on de road an’ Hahsie finds hisse’f a hundred yards ahead, so he squots an’ waits for Sculpat to come up. ‘You better to shift yourse’f a bit mo’ livelier,’ ses he.“Dey gets twenty yards furder, an’ Little Hahsie finds hisse’f hoppin’ along on his lonesome near out o’ sight ahead. ‘Allah Crachty!’ ses he, ‘I might do a sleep while I’s waitin’ like dis,’ an’ as soon as Ou’ Sculpat comes up—‘Is you goin’ to get dere to-day, or is it to-morro’?’ ses he.“But Ou’ Sculpat he ain’t got time for talkin’. He yust keep on flip-a-flipperin’ along de road, an’ Hahsie he starts wid him agen.“Well, dis time Hahsie gets clean out o’ sight over de rise, till after a while he comes tearin’ back, head fust, an’ his front legs havin all dey can do to keep out o’ de way o’ de hind ’uns. ‘Look-a’-hyer, I’s been over de rise, an’ dere’ll be no honey left by de time we get dere at dis rate.’“‘Ain’t I a-comin’?’ ses Sculpat.“‘Yes,’ snort Hahsie, ‘an’ so’s good times—but when? We’s a-gun’ to lose dat honey if we don’t do sometin’. Here,’ ses he, an’ he hops alongside Ou’ Sculpat. ‘Gi’e me de fis’es an’ I’ll go on an’ get de honey till you come,’ an’ ’fore Ou’ Sculpat can consider dat, Little Hahsie snatches de fis’es off his back. ‘You keep comin’ along till you gets dere,’ ses he, an’ off he scoot wid his legs goin’ yards long.“‘I’ll come along in time,’ ses Sculpat as Hahsie go over de rise. ‘I’ll keep on. I wants dat honey.’“Well, he did keep on,” concluded Old Hendrik. “He kep’ on an’ he kep’ on, over de rise an’ over de veldt. An’ he look about an he ax about, but—he ain’t never come along to dat honey yet. An’ he never will.”
The youngest of the three children had brought in a tortoise from the spruit behind the house, and was half-indignant and half-amused at the stolid refusal of Mr Tortoise to put out his head in response to any stroking of his shell, or to any shaking or bumping on the ground. “He’s just that cunning, Ou’ Ta’, I never did see anything like him,” cried the little boy to Old Hendrik.
“Well, he is tink hisse’f mighty cunnin’ sometimes,” answered the old Hottentot genially. “But dere was once now, when Klein Hahsie want him to ketch him de little silver fis’es.”
“Oh, but that Klein Hahsie—that Little Hare—he is just such a skellum!” broke in Annie.
“Well,” hesitated Old Hendrik, “Little Hahsie he is a bit smart, but den he don’t get nob’dy’s bones broke anyhow. An’ besides, Ou’ Sculpat dere—de Tortoise—he was yust too lazy for ornament, let alone use.
“It was a’ dis way. Little Hahsie he was a-hoppin’ an’ a-floppin’ along down de spruit one day, an’ he come to where de water was a-runnin’ clear an’ fine, an’ what should he see in de big water-hole but all de little silver fis’es yust a-glintin’ an’ a-twinklin’. Allah Crachty! he fair squot right down an’ watch ’em, dey look dat good an’ fine.
“But Little Hahsie ain’t yust like a otter in de water, dough dere ain’t no otter of ’em all could beat him at wantin’ dem fis’es. So he squot, an’ he study, an’ he tink till at last he see Ou’ Sculpat a-danderin’ down, an’ makin’ no mo’ to do but fair flop right in to de water, an’ sort o’ hang in dere wid his nose yust out, like a bird might be a-hangin’ in de air wid his beak catchin’ on to a cloud.
“Little Hahsie fair cock his one year at dat to see Ou’ Sculpat do it so easy, an’ so twenty-shillin’s-in-de-pound comfy like. ‘By jimminy, Sculpat, you looks at home all right,’ ses he.
“‘I is,’ ses Sculpat, an’ he don’t take so much trouble as to turn his head when he speak to Little Hahsie behind him, much less to turn his body. He sort o’ shift one eye half-way round, an’ dat’s quite enough too, tink he.
“‘An’ what does you do when you is at home?’ ax Hahsie.
“‘Dis,’ ses Sculpat, an’ he don’t take de trouble to keep dat one eye half-way round, but let it swing back like a swivel.
“Little Hahsie he flick his years like he tink someb’dy ought to yust kick de stuffin’ out o’ Sculpat. ‘But,’ ses he, ‘you has to eat What you do den?’
“‘Eat,’ ses Sculpat—yust de one word.
“‘Oh,’ ses Hahsie, like he’d like to do dat kickin’ hisse’f. ‘Den you does ha’ to shift yourse’f a bit sometimes.’
“‘But I don’t,’ ses Sculpat. ‘I’s in my dinner now—dese water-weeds!’
“‘Oh, you is, is you?’ ses Little Hahsie, an’ he’s yust dat hairy over it dat he biffs de ground wid his back leg an’ he yump over his own shadda. ‘You’s fair dat lazy you’d rader eat weeds, when all de time dem pretty little silver fis’es is a-twinklin’ an’ a-slantin’ roun’ you! Allah Crachty!’
“‘What’s I want wid twinkly little fis’es?’ ses Sculpat. ‘Weeds is nice now, but fis’es—’
“‘You can keep all de weeds if you gi’es me de fis’es!’ ses Hahsie, like he never did hear no such a fathead notion.
“‘An’ how if I keeps all de weeds anyhow, an’ lets you do de same wid de twinkly little fis’es, hey?’ ses Sculpat, an’ his face kind o’ shine like he’d be a-grinnin’ if it wahnt too much trouble.
“Little Hahsie squot down agen at dat What Ou’ Sculpat ses is yust so right flat an’ square dat Hahsie he feel right flat too. But he see de little silver fis’es a-flashin’ agen an’ he fair cahnt give up yet. ‘Dat’s a’ right,’ ses he; ‘but I’s got my good clo’es on, an’ dey won’t do to get wet. What say you now if you was to ketch me out a little string of ’em, hey?’
“‘What ses I?’ ses Sculpat. ‘Rats!’
“Little Hahsie he’s yust dat mad he pick up one foot to go, but he’s yust dat gone on dem fis’es dat he put anoder foot down to stop. ‘Look-a’-here,’ ses he. ‘If you ketch me out some o’ dem fis’, den I’ll fetch you lots o’ de nicest garden stuff from de farm yonder.’
“‘Garden stuff!’ ses Sculpat. ‘Huh!—here’s weeds!’
“‘An’ what if I eats up dem weeds?—what den?’ ses Hahsie.
“‘Dere’s mo’ weeds in de nex’ water-hole,’ ses Sculpat.
“‘But I’ll eat dem too,’ ses Little Hahsie.
“Ou’ Sculpat he yust lift his head clear o’ de water, an’ he stick it straight up, and he laugh as quiet an as ghosty as if dat’s de richest ting he’s ever hear. ‘Oh! you yust go on an’ eat ’em,’ ses he. ‘Do go on an’ eat ’em—an’ by dat time your little tummy ’ll be swell’ an’ swell’ till you’s all blowed up like a poisoned pup. Ho, yis! you start in an’ eat ’em, do!’ an Ou’ Sculpat he laugh like he’s never a-gun’ to stop.
“Dat make Little Hahsie dat huffy he fair snift agen. ‘You might laugh some mo’,’ ses he. ‘Why don’t you go on an’ laugh some mo’? You’ moufs big enough, an’ you’s ugly enough.’
“‘But I ain’t half as ugly as you’d be if you eat all de water-weeds, or dropped in an’ tried to ketch de little twinkly fis’es,’ ses Sculpat; an’ he laugh agen worser an’ ghostier dan ever.
“Dat stir up Little Hahsie till he’s fair clawin’ mad, but yust when you tink he’s ’gun to begin to ploppin’ out bad words, right den he seem to wilt down into quiet, an’ his face straighten out all de wrinkles like a boy when you gi’es him sixpence for sweets. He tinks dere’s anoder way, an’ all he ses is—‘All right, Sculpat. Good mawnin’,’ and he offs, an’ he don’t turn round needer, nor let on at all when he hear Ou’ Sculpat laughin’ some mo’ behind him. He on’y grin an’ grin.
“But ’stead o’ goin’ home he goes off to see Ou’ Waxa, de Honey-bird. ‘I wants some honey,’ ses he.
“‘So does I,’ ses Waxa; ‘an’ wouldn’t I like to get some too!’
“‘But ain’t you got none?’ ses Little Hahsie, wid his bofe years cocked straight up wid s’prise. ‘Ain’t you got yust a leetle teenty bit? Yust a scrape o’ honey’ll do me.’
“‘Dere’s de place where de honey was,’ ses Waxa, showin’ him de hole in de tree. ‘I ’specs dere’s all de scrape you wants—but I don’t know about de honey.’
“‘De drippin’s ’ll do. What you’s dropped ’ll do me,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Ou’ Sculpat he ain’t never taste honey yet, so he won’t know de diffrence of a bit o’ dirt or two. De calabas’ I’ll put it in’ll look big all de same, weder dere’s lots o’ honey inside it or on’y one drop,’—an’ wid dat he pulls out a big calabasie wid a long bottle neck, an’ ’gins to scrape up de drippin’s what Ou’ Waxa drop when she pull de bits o’ de comb out o de tree.
“Well, it come de nex’ day, an’ Ou’ Sculpat was dere in de water-hole, feelin’ de weeds agen his mouf an’ not takin’ de trouble to make up his mind weder he’ll eat or not, when here comes Klein Hahsie, yust a-hoppin’ an’ a-skippin’, wid a calabas’ in his one hand, an’ a-beatin’ it wid his toder like a drum. An’ all de time he’s a-keepin’ time wid singin’:—
“Hahsie, Hahsie;Calabasie;Dum! Dum! Dam!
“Hahsie, Hahsie;Calabasie;Dum! Dum! Dam!
“Ou’ Sculpat open his eyes at dat. He turn his head, an’ on dat Little Hahsie gives a extry kick an’ a stride. ‘Here you is, Sculpat!’ ses he. ‘Taste dis!’ an’ he sticks a long feder into de calabas’ an’ pulls it out wid a flouris’ an’ holds it up. ‘Open your mouf, an’ shut you’ eyes, an’ see what comes dat’s spiffin’ nice,’ ses he.
“Ou’ Sculpat he wave hisse’f to de side o’ de pool like he dunno weder it’s wort while or not; but he comes out an’ he stick his head up an’ open his mouf an’ shut his eyes—an’ dat’s why he don’t see de grin come in Little Hahsie’s face, nor’ de double extry flouris’ he give de feder. Den Hahsie draw de feder troo Ou’ Sculpat’s mouf an’ out agen.
“As soon as he taste dat honey Ou’ Sculpat’s eyes flew wide open an’ his mouf begun a-workin’ all ways at once. ‘Allah Crachty! but dat’s fair fine-o,’ ses he. ‘Yust gi’e me a little teenty bit more o’ dat, won’t you?’
“‘Ah, now,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Yestiday when I ax you for some little fis’es you was mighty snifty. To-day I gi’es you some o’ my nice stuff an’ you ses—“Mo.” An’ I ses—“What for?”’
“‘Well, I’ll gi’e you a fis’ if you gi’es me some more o’ dat,’ ses Sculpat.
“‘Hoho!’ ses Hahsie. ‘Yestiday I offer’ to fetch you garden stuff an’ you ses you’s got weeds. S’pose I says now—“What do I want wid fis’es—I’s got honey?”—eh?’
“Ou’ Sculpat he try to tink dat over, an’ dis time it’s Little Hahsie is a-grinnin’. ‘Yestiday you laugh’ at me,’ ses Hahsie. ‘What price you laugh at yourse’f to-day? You wouldn’t gi’e me what you had, but you want me to gi’e you what I got. What’s de difference, Sculpat?’
“‘Honey,’ ses Sculpat; ‘an’ you’s got it. How many silver fis’es you want for dat calabas’ o’ honey?’
“‘Ten,’ ses Hahsie.
“‘Right,’ ses Sculpat. ‘You be here in half an hour an’ I’ll have de ten ready.’
“Well, Little Hahsie he hop off wid de same ole drummin’ on de calabas’, an’ de same ole song, ‘Hahsie, Hahsie, Calabasie! Dum! Dum! Dum!’ Ou’ Sculpat he sets to work to ketch dem fis’es.”
“But, Ou’ Ta’,” interrupted the eldest boy, “how does Ou’ Sculpat catch fish?”
“Ah!” answered the old Hottentot slyly; “dat’s yust what Ou’ Sculpat ain’t never let anyb’dy see yet. Dat’s why he sent Klein Hahsie away till he done it. But anyhow, he ketched dese yere ten, an’ laid ’em out on de green o’ de grass, all white an’ shinin’ silver in de sun; dey looked mighty fine an’ tasty, I can tell you. An’ den along comes Little Hahsie agen wid de calabas’.
“‘Here’s de fis’; where’s de honey?’ ses Ou’ Sculpat.
“‘Here’s de honey: count de fis’,’ ses Hahsie.
“Dey counted out de fis an’ dere was de ten a’ right, an’ one little one beside for bargain. ‘Dat’s de style,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Now open your mouf an’ shut your eyes an’ see if dis stuff ain’t rippin’ nice.’
“Ou’ Sculpat he shut his eyes an’ he open his mouf, an’ Little Hahsie he flouris’ de feder out o’ de calabas’ wid a mighty ole twirl, an’ den he draw it troo Ou’ Sculpat’s mouf slow an’ slower till it come out across. Den he yabs it half-way down his froat an’ draw it back. ‘Dere!’ ses he. ‘Ain’t dat nice?’
“Ou’ Sculpat he don’t say a word. He yust smack his lips an’ work his mouf an’ den plank it wide open for more.
“Little Hahsie he sort o’ consider dat open mouf, an’ he grin into it, an’ he slant his eye into it like he’s lookin’ down it to see what Sculpat had for breakfas’, an’ he pat it under de chin, an’ den, while he’s a-considerin’ it some mo’, Ou’ Sculpat open his eyes an’ ketch ole Hahsie a-squintin’ down his gumses. ‘Well,’ ses he, ‘what about de rest of it?’
“‘Dat’s exac’ly what I wants to know,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Dat’s why I’s a-lookin’ down your froat—to see where de rest is went to. Here’s me tipped up de calabas’, an’ den I rub a taste nicely in your mouf, an’ den I drop in all de rest, so you’d have a nice ten minutes suckin’ on it. It drop in a’ right, but, Allah Crachty! where’s it go to? Tell me dat, Sculpat, for dere ain’t no sign of it where I looked.’
“Ou’ Sculpat stretch his eyes wide open at dat. ‘It must ha’ gone somewhere,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Hyer’s de calabas’ quite empty for you to see.’
“Ou’ Sculpat cock his eye into de calabas’, but he cahnt see nawtin’ dere, an’ he look at Little Hahsie, an’ Little Hahsie look back like dis is de funniest merrikle ever was. Den Sculpat dive into de inside o’ his shell to see if p’r’aps de honey might ha’ got dere, but it ain’t; an’ at last he ses—‘What’s you goin’ to do about it?—you’s got de fis’es.’
“‘An’ you’s got de honey,’ ses Little Hahsie.
“‘Where’s it den?’ ses Sculpat.
“‘I put it into dis end o’ you,’ ses Hahsie. ‘You’s de one to know what’s happen’ to it after dat.’
“Ou’ Sculpat he consider a bit. ‘Well, I did feel sometin’ ticklin’ half-way down my froat,’ ses he, ‘but I didn’t feel it no furder.’
“‘P’r’aps dat’s de way you’s made inside,’ ses Hahsie; ‘half-way down an’ den a drop.’
“Ou’ Sculpat he didn’t say nawtin’ to dat; he stick to business. ‘When’s I to have some mo’?’ ses he.
“‘When I wants more fis’,’ ses Hahsie, his big eyes fair a-shinin’ wid wonderin’ about dat honey still.
“‘An’ when’s dat?’ ses Sculpat.
“‘When I feels like I’d like some,’ ses Hahsie, an’ he don’t grin a bit.
“‘To-morro’?’ axes Sculpat.
“‘A’ right,’ ses Hahsie. ‘You have de fis’es ready an’ I’ll see about gettin’ some mo’ honey. So long, den,’—an’ Mr Hahsie he picks up de ten fis’es an’ de little one, an’ he offs.
“Ou’ Sculpat watch him go a minute. ‘Dat stuff is taste rippin’,’ ses he. Den he flop into de water agen, but he don’t eat any weeds.
“Well, de nex’ day dere’s Ou’ Sculpat ready wid de ten fis’es but dere ain’t no little one extry dis time, an’ hyer comes Hahsie wid de same ole drummin’ an’ singin’—‘Hahsie, Hahsie, Calabasie! Dum! Dum! Dum!’
“But dis time when Ou’ Sculpat open his mouf an’ shut his eyes he don’t shut ’em; not quite; he keep one eye half-open. Dat’s de way he seen de gay old flouris’ Little Hahsie give de feder, an’ de little little drop o’ honey dere is on it too. Dat’s de way also he seen de grin on Little Hahsie’s face, when Hahsie’s a-lookin’ into his mouf, where he’s touchin’ spots here an’ dere wid de feder, an’ he get dat s’picious dat his one eye spring wide open—an’ dat’s de way Little Hahsie seen yust in time dat he’s a-lookin’.
“But Little Hahsie he’s a gamey ole bird, an’ he don’t turn a hair nor let on in any sort o’ way. He yust holds de feder up like he’s waitin’, an’ he ain’t a bit astonish’ when Ou’ Sculpat lets de oder eye spring open too. ‘How’s de taste o’ dat, Sculpat?’ ses he.
“‘It’s a-gun’ to taste better when dere’s more on top of it,’ ses Sculpat. ‘Come on wid de rest.’
“‘Well,’ ses Hahsie, ‘you ain’t no picaninny. You don’t want me to stick a bib under your chin an’ feed you wid a feder. Here you is—take de calabas’ an’ eat de lot, an’ I’ll take de fis.’
“Sculpat he take de calabas’, an’ Hahsie he pick up de fis’; but he ain’t got two skips away before Ou’ Sculpat sings out: ‘Hey yeh! Where’s-dis honey?’
“‘Where you’s got it, in de calabas’,’ ses Hahsie.
“‘Dat’s yust where I ain’t got it,’ ses Sculpat. ‘Dere’s de calabas’ an’ dere ain’t de honey; you look for yourse’f.’
“Little Hahsie look dat astonish’—you never seen no sich astonishment. ‘Why,’ ses he, ‘I went to Ou’ Waxa, de Honey-bird, myse’f wid dat calabas’, so’s to be sure an’ get it full. An’ now I yust turns my back an’ you ses dere ain’t none in it!’
“‘An’ dere was yestiday, too,’ ses Sculpat.
“‘Yes,’ ses Hahsie, comin’ one step back. ‘Dere was yestiday; an’ I ’specs dat’s what’s de matter to-day, same as ’yestiday. You’s gulluped de lot down in one, an’ now you wants to bluff me out dat you ain’t had none.’
“‘Dat sort o’ talk won’t do,’ ses Sculpat ‘Hyer’s de calabas’ an’ hyer ain’t no honey. You can look for yourse’f.’
“Hahsie looks, an’ he cahnt see no mo’ inside dat calabas’ dan’ anyb’dy else can see de inside of any other bottle-neck calabas’. But he make like he’s fair astonish’, all de same. ‘By jimminy! it do look like it’s empty,’ ses he. ‘But I’ll tell you what, you let me have dat calabas’ agen, an’ I’ll take it back to Ou’ Waxa an’ ax her how it is dere ain’t no honey in it. An’ to-morro’ when you has de fis’es ready I’ll bring two lots o’ honey, one for to-day as well as to-morro’. I’ll ha’ to go quick, dough, if I’s gun’ to ketch Ou’ Waxa ’fore she go. So long, den,’ an’ he offs wid de calabas’ an de fis’ ’fore you can say rats!
“Ou’ Sculpat ses on’y one ting: ‘To-morro’ I has de honey fust’. Den he ins to de water-hole an’ tinks.
“Well, to-morro’ comes, an’ de ten fis’es dis time is all laid out in a wheel, wid deir little tails togeder an’ deir heads out, so dey look mighty fine in de sun. But dis time here come Little Hahsie widout no calabas’ at all. ‘Hello!’ ses Sculpat, ‘where’s de honey?’
“‘Dat’s yust what Ou’ Waxa said when I took her de calabas’,’ ses Hahsie. ‘An’ dis time she ain’t a-trustin’ me wid de honey. You’s got to bring de fis’es an’ come wi’ me an’ get de honey from her yourse’f.’
“‘Well,’ ses Sculpat, ‘I’s gun’ to see dis ting troo dis time. I’s comin’. Show de way, den,’ an’ he slings de fis’es two by two on his back an’ off dey pop.
“Off dey pops an’ dey gets five yards on de road an’ Hahsie finds hisse’f a hundred yards ahead, so he squots an’ waits for Sculpat to come up. ‘You better to shift yourse’f a bit mo’ livelier,’ ses he.
“Dey gets twenty yards furder, an’ Little Hahsie finds hisse’f hoppin’ along on his lonesome near out o’ sight ahead. ‘Allah Crachty!’ ses he, ‘I might do a sleep while I’s waitin’ like dis,’ an’ as soon as Ou’ Sculpat comes up—‘Is you goin’ to get dere to-day, or is it to-morro’?’ ses he.
“But Ou’ Sculpat he ain’t got time for talkin’. He yust keep on flip-a-flipperin’ along de road, an’ Hahsie he starts wid him agen.
“Well, dis time Hahsie gets clean out o’ sight over de rise, till after a while he comes tearin’ back, head fust, an’ his front legs havin all dey can do to keep out o’ de way o’ de hind ’uns. ‘Look-a’-hyer, I’s been over de rise, an’ dere’ll be no honey left by de time we get dere at dis rate.’
“‘Ain’t I a-comin’?’ ses Sculpat.
“‘Yes,’ snort Hahsie, ‘an’ so’s good times—but when? We’s a-gun’ to lose dat honey if we don’t do sometin’. Here,’ ses he, an’ he hops alongside Ou’ Sculpat. ‘Gi’e me de fis’es an’ I’ll go on an’ get de honey till you come,’ an’ ’fore Ou’ Sculpat can consider dat, Little Hahsie snatches de fis’es off his back. ‘You keep comin’ along till you gets dere,’ ses he, an’ off he scoot wid his legs goin’ yards long.
“‘I’ll come along in time,’ ses Sculpat as Hahsie go over de rise. ‘I’ll keep on. I wants dat honey.’
“Well, he did keep on,” concluded Old Hendrik. “He kep’ on an’ he kep’ on, over de rise an’ over de veldt. An’ he look about an he ax about, but—he ain’t never come along to dat honey yet. An’ he never will.”
Chapter Twelve.Why the Tortoise has no Hair on.“But,” demanded Annie of the old Hottentot, a couple of days later, “after that horrid Little Hare cheated Old Tortoise over the little twinkly fishes, what did Old Tortoise say next time he met him?”“What did Ou’ Sculpat say to Little Hahsie?” repeated Old Hendrik, with a sudden wide open laugh. “Well, Ainkye, he said a lot; you may bet he said a lot. He yust hatto say a lot ’cause what he ha’ to say wahnt true; an’ when you hain’t got de trufe to tell, den you has to use a mighty lot o’ words to make it stick.”“But surely Old Tortoise didn’t believe that Little Hare after what he’d done!” protested Annie.“Oh, but you hain’t never hear dat Little Hahsie talk when he’s a mind to butter some’dy down,” rejoined Old Hendrik. “Ou’ Sculpat’s one o’ dese people what wants to know ’fore dey b’lieves anytin’, an’ he was raungin’ round for blood an’ t’under lookin’ for Little Hahsie. Well, an’ he meet him, an’ de nex’ ting you knows dey’s yust ole chummies a-plantin’ peach-trees togeder. Dat’s fine, ain’t it? But den, de finis’ of it!—an’ de finis’ of it is, Ou’ Sculpat hain’t got no hair on him any mo’.”“Why! did tortoises ever have hair on?” demanded little Annie in blank astonishment.“O’ course dey had hair on,” retorted Old Hendrik, protesting at such astonishment in his hearer. “Ain’t his big broder, de otter, got hair on him yet? But Sculpat would get mix’ up wid Little Hahsie, an’ dere you is; he hain’t got no hair on him no more.”“Oh, how was that? Do tell us,” begged Annie.“Why, it was dis a-way,” went on Hendrik. “When dey did meet, an’ when Ou’ Sculpat finis’ talkin’ big, an’ Little Hahsie finis’ talkin’ butter, den Hahsie feel dat good an’ harum-scarum inside him dat he hop, an’ he skip, an’ he monkey off across de veldt till he come to a farm, an’ dere was de peach garden right in his way, wid de farm house a bit way off f’m it.“Well, Little Hahsie he squot an’ he sniff, an’ he tink about de dogs an’ de little boys dat frow stones; but he tink o’ de peaches too, an’ he feel yust dat cussed dat he’s a-gun’ to have a try at dem peaches if he lose his tail for it. He can see de fence is all aloes an’ prickly-pear, growin’ dat close dere ain’t room even for Ou’ Ringhals, de snake, to get troo, let alone a Hahsie; but dat ain’t a-gun’ to send him off widout peaches.“So he looks about, an’ dere’s a round stony koppie yust back o’ de house an’ garden, an’ he hop round an’ up de back side o’ dat koppie, an’ peep over to have a reglar look at tings. An’ under a tree at de foot o’ de koppie he sees two fat dogs a-sleepin’, an’ comin’ f’m de garden dere’s a little boy wid his daddy’s ole hat full o’ peaches; dese big, fine, girl’s-cheek peaches. An’ de boy goes an’ sets down under de tree.“Little Hahsie he look at de boy, an’ he look at de dogs. Den he look at de big stones, an’ de little bushes all down de side o’ de koppie, an his big eyes ’gin a-shinin’. ‘I knows how I’ll get dem peaches,’ ses he.“Well, he creep down de koppie troo de bushes an’ de stones till he’s right at de bottom an’ on’y about forty yards away from de little boy, an’ den he pop out right in front o’ him. He gi’es one hop an’ he gi’es two hop, an’ den all of a sudden he squot flat, like he’s yust seen de little boy an’ tinks de boy ain’t seen him. But dere’s one fair ole yell an’ one mighty ole yump f’m darie boy, an’ den he’s yust a-sikkin’ de dogs on to ketch dis hare.“Dat’s all Little Hahsie want. While de boy’s a-yellin’ an’ a-yumpin’, an’ while de dogs is a-wakin’ an’ a-lookin’ out to see what’s it all about all dat time Klein Hahsie’s yust a-makin’ a brown streak round dat koppie.“But he ain’t. He on’y make ten yards of it an’ den he’s out o’ sight round de corner. Dat’s far enough, an’ he yust gi’es one fair ole yump to one side, up de koppie, an’ squots down flat behind a stone till de dogs is rush past wid de little boy runnin’ all he know ahter ’em. Den Hahsie yust hop back to darie ole hatful o’ peaches under de tree, an’ pick it up an’ skip out o’ dat eatin peaches all de way.”“And what did the little boy do when he got back and found his peaches gone?” broke in Annie’s younger brother.“Well,” answered Hendrik, “I on’y heard about what Klein Hahsie done. Dey don’t say nawtin’ about what de boy done. But I ’specs he yust went back an’ got some mo’ peaches.“But about Klein Hahsie,” resumed he. “Dese yere peaches taste yust dat good dat all de while he’s a-eatin’ ’em he’s tinkin’ how nice it ’ud be if he had his own tree to pick at widout no dogs to chase him. An’ de mo’ he eat de mo’ he study, till at last it strike him what to do. Den he saves de last two o’ de peaches, an’ he biff dat ole hat into shape wid a one-two, an’ swack it down on one ear an’ de back of his head, an’ off he set down de spruit to de water-hole where he’ll find Ou’ Sculpat.“Ou’ Sculpat was dere, wid his chin on top de water, lookin’ yust as leary as ever, an’ he don’t so much as wink his eye till Little Hahsie shout him out. ‘Hello! Sculpat!’ ses he. ‘I’s struck luck since I lef you. I’s got peaches; an’ I reckoned now we’s frens I’d better gi’e you one an’ me de oder. Here you is den, choose which one you’ll have.’“Well, Ou’ Sculpat he tinks he’ll tink it over, but he look at dem two peach in Little Hahsie’s han’s, an’ fust ting he knows he’s flipped his way out o’ de water an’ he’s comin’ to Hahsie, where he’s a-sittin’ wid one leg crossed over toder, makin’ hisse’f all nice an’ comfy. ‘Here you is,’ ses Hahsie, givin’ him de biggest an’ de ripest o’ de two. ‘You squot now, an’ we’ll fair enjoy dese ole peaches.’“So Ou’ Sculpat he squot, an’ dey rolls dem peaches in deir han’s, an’ dey suck ’em wid deir lips, an’ dey squeeze deir teef in yust a leetle bit an’ taste de yuice o’ dat. An’ dat’s so nice dey cahnt hold off no longer, but dey fair yum-yums into dem peaches an’ scoffs ’em down an’ suck de stones clean. ‘What you tink o’ peaches now?’ ses Hahsie.“‘I tinks I’d like to know where dere’s some mo’,’ ses Sculpat. ‘I’d yust fair live on peaches if I had ’em.’“‘So’d I,’ ses Hahsie; ‘an’ I’ll tell you what, Sculpat, I’s bin a-studyin’. What you say now if we plant dese two stones an’ grow two trees for us ownselfs, an’ yust sit under de branches an’ watch de peaches ripen? Wouldn’t dat be fine?’“‘Wouldn’t it yust,’ ses Sculpat. ‘Wouldn’t it yust.’“‘Right-o den,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Here we is now. You pick a place an’ we’ll plant dese two stones, one for me an’ one for you. We’ll soon have peaches ahter dat—tons an’ tons,’ ses he.“‘Right you is,’ ses Sculpat. ‘Yonder’s de place. We’ll soon plant ’em.’“So dey plants dese two stones, an’ de trees spring up, an’ den comes de time to be waterin’ ’em every day. An’ every day Ou’ Sculpat’s at it, carryin’ de water in his mouf to his tree; an’ a-carryin’ all de day ’cause he cahnt on’y hold a mighty little water in his mouf at one time. So his tree kep’ on a-growin’ an’ a-branchin’.“But Little Hahsie he ain’t a-waterin’ no trees. If darie ole tree o’ his want water, den it ’ad a-better sa’nter over to de water-hole an’ get it; or if it want to die, well, it can yust die an’ be blowed to it, ses he. Den he’d go off an’ squot down an’ watch Ou’ Sculpat carryin’ water, an’ he’d laugh an’ laugh; but he don’t let nob’dy ketch him at dat.“Well, dis went on an’ on, till Little Hahsie’s tree’s dead wid de want o’ water, while Ou’ Sculpat’s is big an’ bushy wid de plenty of it, an’ in a while it’s fair hangin’ full an’ bendin’ down wid peaches—nice, big, yuicy, girl’s-cheek peaches.“Ses Ou’ Sculpat to Hahsie: ‘If you’d on’y a-watered your tree you’d a-had peaches too now. Don’t you wis’ you had?’“‘Well, dem peaches is look nice,’ ses Hahsie. ‘But dey’d be a lot nicer for you if you could get at ’em to eat ’em. How’s you gun’ to do dat, Sculpat?’“Ou’ Sculpat swivel his eye to look at Hahsie. Hahsie don’t wink a word. Ses he: ‘It’s all right, ain’t it? Dere’s your peaches an’ dere’s you, but dere ain’t de eatin’—an’ de eadn’s de ting, ain’t it? How about dat part, Sculpat?’“Ou’ Sculpat yust drop right flat at dat; he hain’t never tink o’ dat. He look at dat tree an’ he look at dem peaches, such nice big peaches; an’ den he look at Little Hahsie. ‘What’ll I ha’ to do?’ ses he.“‘Well,’ ses Hahsie, ‘I reckon dere ain’t on’y one way. You’ll ha’ to get some’dy to climb up in de tree an’ drop ’em down to you.’“‘An’ you’s de on’y one I knows dat can do it,’ ses Sculpat. ‘How if you was to go up in de tree den?’“‘A’ right,’ ses Hahsie, like he’s doin’ de bigges’ kind of a favour. ‘I’ll have a try, anyhow,’ ses he, like he ain’t so sure he can do it. But he gi’es a hop, a skip, an’ a yump, an’ you can hear him laugh as he land up in dem lower branches like a bird. Den he climb an’ he climb till he’s right up where de nicest peaches is. An’ den—why, den he ’gins to eat ’em.“You should a-hear Ou’ Sculpat shout at dat. ‘Ho yeh!’ ses he, ‘what for you eat dem peaches up dere?’“‘’Cause dey’s nice, what else?’ ses Hahsie. ‘Dey’s about de nicest peaches I ever tasted. Here you is; dis stone now,’ ses he, an’ he drop a peach stone fair on Ou’ Sculpat’s nose. ‘You plant darie stone, an’ by’n’by you’ll have a tree o’ your own to eat off, an’ den you won’t need to dance an’ prance round dis one while you’s watchin’ me eat peaches.’“Sculpat he fair whistle, he’s dat mad. ‘By gum! You flop right down out o’ dat or I’ll knock de by-gum stuffin’ out o’ you,’ ses he, an’ he yust paw de air. ‘Dem’s my peaches,’ ses he.“‘Is dey?’ ses Hahsie. ‘Den if dey is I’d advise you to shake yourse’f a bit an’ come up an’ get a few while dere’s some left,’ an’ Hahsie sort o’ smile down at him.“Ou’ Sculpat he reg’lar stretch his neck down dere on de ground. ‘You’s smart,’ ses he, ‘almighty smart; but I know what I’ll do. You yust stop up dere an’ see if I don’t fix you. You wait a bit, dat’s all,’ an’ he turns an’ he offs back to de spruit, wid Little Hahsie singin’ a song to him as far as he can hear him, about how nice it is to eat peaches in de tree.“But it ain’t no time at all ’fore here comes Ou’ Sculpat back agen, an’ de hool gang o’ de sculpats wid him. An’ dey make no mo’ to do, but dey marches right up to de tree an’ ’gins to bite it round to cut it down. ‘Now we’s got you,’ ses Sculpat. ‘We’ll see how you like it when we get hold o you.’“‘When you get hold o’ me,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Fire away den,’ an’ he yust keep on a-eatin’ peaches like dat’s what he was born doin’.“By’n’by de tree’s mighty near cut troo, an’ by dat time dere ain’t one peach left. Little Hahsie’s eat de last one. ‘Dat’s a’ right,’ ses Sculpat. ‘But I’s yust a-gun’ to knock dem peaches out o’ you agen now, wid all de rest o’ de by-gum stuffin’.’“Dencar-r-rack! goes de tree, an’ it ’gin to swing dis way an’ dat way, an’ all de sculpats stand ready to ketch Little Hahsie. Dencur-rack-racksounds de tree an’ down it come; but, yust as it’s a-fallin’, dere’s Little Hahsie,dar soh! away out yonder. For he gi’en one fair ole winger of a yump, an’ he land far out de yonder side de ring o’ sculpats, an’ dere he goes now a-streakin’ over de rise an’ out o’ sight. ‘Who’s a-knockin’ de stuffin’ out o’ who now?’ ses he, as he send de heel dust a-flyin’ behind him.“But de sculpats dey ain’t done yet. Dey’s too mad to gi’e up so easy as dat. ‘I know what he’ll do,’ ses Ou’ Sculpat. ‘He’s yust so full o’ peaches he’ll squot right down dere over de rise an’ go to sleep. So we’ll do dis; we’ll get round him in a great big ring a mile wide, an’ den when he ’gins to run agen we’ll keep a-poppin’ up an’ a-poppin’ up everywhere he stops, till he’ll yust run on till he drops. Den we has him.’“‘Dat’s yust what we’ll do,’ ses all de sculpats. An’ right dere dey start to do it.“Well, Little Hahsie was a-sleepin’ on de yonder side de ridge, where he’d squotted down, when up pops Ou’ Sculpat, yust dat close dat dere ain’t no time for foolin’ or anytin’ but gettin’ away. But Hahsie flick up his heels an’ laugh as he go. ‘Why don’t you ketch me?’ ses he.“Ou’ Sculpat grin, but he don’t say nawtin’. He yust flop down in de grass agen an’ wait.“In a while Klein Hahsie rinks he’s run fur enough, but he hadn’t more’n stop ’fore up pops anoder sculpat a-comin’ at him.“‘Hello!’ ses Hahsie. ‘Here a’ready, is you? Allah Crachty! how you manage dat?’ But de sculpat keep a-comin’ on, an’ Hahsie has to off agen, an’ dis time he don’t flick his heels.“Well, de same ring happen once an’ de same ring happen twice, an’ it went on like dat till Little Hahsie was dat near done for dat de sculpats ’gin to close in on him. ‘Now we’s got you,’ ses dey.“‘Has you?’ ses Hahsie, an’ he look round, an’ dere he sees a dead elephant lyin’ in de grass. ‘Dat’s de ting,’ ses he, an’ he makes a dive an’ he pops right inside dat elephant, troo his mouf.“Now dat elephant was all swelled up wid bein’ two days dead, an’ when Little Hahsie dives inside it, head fust it set up such a morion an’ commotion dat it look like de elephant’s a-gun’ to roll over an’ get up on to his four big legs. De trunk lift up, an’ de top ear wag, an’ de sculpats all rink, by jimminy, darie elephant’s de liv’est elephant dey’s seen dis many a day.“‘Run now!’ shouts de sculpats. ‘Darie elephant’s Klein Hahsie’s daddy, an’ he’s a-gun’ to get up an’ tromp us to smash! Get away now!’ ses dey.“Little Hahsie, inside, he hear all dat, an’ he fair ’gun to ramp about in dat elephant, an’ he shout outen his trunk like billy-o, an’ it made dat big a row, an’ dat big a wiggle, dat you hain’t never seen no sculpats ever doin’ no sich a gettin’ away as dey did. ’Fore dat time dey used to have hair on ’em like a otter, but dey went dat far an’ dey went dat fas’—for sculpats—troo de bush an’ de stones an’ de grass, dat dey wear all de hair off n ’em, till dey get’s quite smoove an’ polish like you sees ’em now.“An’ dat’s why de sculpats is got no hair on ’em,” concluded the old Hottentot, with all the dignity of a learned professor to his class.
“But,” demanded Annie of the old Hottentot, a couple of days later, “after that horrid Little Hare cheated Old Tortoise over the little twinkly fishes, what did Old Tortoise say next time he met him?”
“What did Ou’ Sculpat say to Little Hahsie?” repeated Old Hendrik, with a sudden wide open laugh. “Well, Ainkye, he said a lot; you may bet he said a lot. He yust hatto say a lot ’cause what he ha’ to say wahnt true; an’ when you hain’t got de trufe to tell, den you has to use a mighty lot o’ words to make it stick.”
“But surely Old Tortoise didn’t believe that Little Hare after what he’d done!” protested Annie.
“Oh, but you hain’t never hear dat Little Hahsie talk when he’s a mind to butter some’dy down,” rejoined Old Hendrik. “Ou’ Sculpat’s one o’ dese people what wants to know ’fore dey b’lieves anytin’, an’ he was raungin’ round for blood an’ t’under lookin’ for Little Hahsie. Well, an’ he meet him, an’ de nex’ ting you knows dey’s yust ole chummies a-plantin’ peach-trees togeder. Dat’s fine, ain’t it? But den, de finis’ of it!—an’ de finis’ of it is, Ou’ Sculpat hain’t got no hair on him any mo’.”
“Why! did tortoises ever have hair on?” demanded little Annie in blank astonishment.
“O’ course dey had hair on,” retorted Old Hendrik, protesting at such astonishment in his hearer. “Ain’t his big broder, de otter, got hair on him yet? But Sculpat would get mix’ up wid Little Hahsie, an’ dere you is; he hain’t got no hair on him no more.”
“Oh, how was that? Do tell us,” begged Annie.
“Why, it was dis a-way,” went on Hendrik. “When dey did meet, an’ when Ou’ Sculpat finis’ talkin’ big, an’ Little Hahsie finis’ talkin’ butter, den Hahsie feel dat good an’ harum-scarum inside him dat he hop, an’ he skip, an’ he monkey off across de veldt till he come to a farm, an’ dere was de peach garden right in his way, wid de farm house a bit way off f’m it.
“Well, Little Hahsie he squot an’ he sniff, an’ he tink about de dogs an’ de little boys dat frow stones; but he tink o’ de peaches too, an’ he feel yust dat cussed dat he’s a-gun’ to have a try at dem peaches if he lose his tail for it. He can see de fence is all aloes an’ prickly-pear, growin’ dat close dere ain’t room even for Ou’ Ringhals, de snake, to get troo, let alone a Hahsie; but dat ain’t a-gun’ to send him off widout peaches.
“So he looks about, an’ dere’s a round stony koppie yust back o’ de house an’ garden, an’ he hop round an’ up de back side o’ dat koppie, an’ peep over to have a reglar look at tings. An’ under a tree at de foot o’ de koppie he sees two fat dogs a-sleepin’, an’ comin’ f’m de garden dere’s a little boy wid his daddy’s ole hat full o’ peaches; dese big, fine, girl’s-cheek peaches. An’ de boy goes an’ sets down under de tree.
“Little Hahsie he look at de boy, an’ he look at de dogs. Den he look at de big stones, an’ de little bushes all down de side o’ de koppie, an his big eyes ’gin a-shinin’. ‘I knows how I’ll get dem peaches,’ ses he.
“Well, he creep down de koppie troo de bushes an’ de stones till he’s right at de bottom an’ on’y about forty yards away from de little boy, an’ den he pop out right in front o’ him. He gi’es one hop an’ he gi’es two hop, an’ den all of a sudden he squot flat, like he’s yust seen de little boy an’ tinks de boy ain’t seen him. But dere’s one fair ole yell an’ one mighty ole yump f’m darie boy, an’ den he’s yust a-sikkin’ de dogs on to ketch dis hare.
“Dat’s all Little Hahsie want. While de boy’s a-yellin’ an’ a-yumpin’, an’ while de dogs is a-wakin’ an’ a-lookin’ out to see what’s it all about all dat time Klein Hahsie’s yust a-makin’ a brown streak round dat koppie.
“But he ain’t. He on’y make ten yards of it an’ den he’s out o’ sight round de corner. Dat’s far enough, an’ he yust gi’es one fair ole yump to one side, up de koppie, an’ squots down flat behind a stone till de dogs is rush past wid de little boy runnin’ all he know ahter ’em. Den Hahsie yust hop back to darie ole hatful o’ peaches under de tree, an’ pick it up an’ skip out o’ dat eatin peaches all de way.”
“And what did the little boy do when he got back and found his peaches gone?” broke in Annie’s younger brother.
“Well,” answered Hendrik, “I on’y heard about what Klein Hahsie done. Dey don’t say nawtin’ about what de boy done. But I ’specs he yust went back an’ got some mo’ peaches.
“But about Klein Hahsie,” resumed he. “Dese yere peaches taste yust dat good dat all de while he’s a-eatin’ ’em he’s tinkin’ how nice it ’ud be if he had his own tree to pick at widout no dogs to chase him. An’ de mo’ he eat de mo’ he study, till at last it strike him what to do. Den he saves de last two o’ de peaches, an’ he biff dat ole hat into shape wid a one-two, an’ swack it down on one ear an’ de back of his head, an’ off he set down de spruit to de water-hole where he’ll find Ou’ Sculpat.
“Ou’ Sculpat was dere, wid his chin on top de water, lookin’ yust as leary as ever, an’ he don’t so much as wink his eye till Little Hahsie shout him out. ‘Hello! Sculpat!’ ses he. ‘I’s struck luck since I lef you. I’s got peaches; an’ I reckoned now we’s frens I’d better gi’e you one an’ me de oder. Here you is den, choose which one you’ll have.’
“Well, Ou’ Sculpat he tinks he’ll tink it over, but he look at dem two peach in Little Hahsie’s han’s, an’ fust ting he knows he’s flipped his way out o’ de water an’ he’s comin’ to Hahsie, where he’s a-sittin’ wid one leg crossed over toder, makin’ hisse’f all nice an’ comfy. ‘Here you is,’ ses Hahsie, givin’ him de biggest an’ de ripest o’ de two. ‘You squot now, an’ we’ll fair enjoy dese ole peaches.’
“So Ou’ Sculpat he squot, an’ dey rolls dem peaches in deir han’s, an’ dey suck ’em wid deir lips, an’ dey squeeze deir teef in yust a leetle bit an’ taste de yuice o’ dat. An’ dat’s so nice dey cahnt hold off no longer, but dey fair yum-yums into dem peaches an’ scoffs ’em down an’ suck de stones clean. ‘What you tink o’ peaches now?’ ses Hahsie.
“‘I tinks I’d like to know where dere’s some mo’,’ ses Sculpat. ‘I’d yust fair live on peaches if I had ’em.’
“‘So’d I,’ ses Hahsie; ‘an’ I’ll tell you what, Sculpat, I’s bin a-studyin’. What you say now if we plant dese two stones an’ grow two trees for us ownselfs, an’ yust sit under de branches an’ watch de peaches ripen? Wouldn’t dat be fine?’
“‘Wouldn’t it yust,’ ses Sculpat. ‘Wouldn’t it yust.’
“‘Right-o den,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Here we is now. You pick a place an’ we’ll plant dese two stones, one for me an’ one for you. We’ll soon have peaches ahter dat—tons an’ tons,’ ses he.
“‘Right you is,’ ses Sculpat. ‘Yonder’s de place. We’ll soon plant ’em.’
“So dey plants dese two stones, an’ de trees spring up, an’ den comes de time to be waterin’ ’em every day. An’ every day Ou’ Sculpat’s at it, carryin’ de water in his mouf to his tree; an’ a-carryin’ all de day ’cause he cahnt on’y hold a mighty little water in his mouf at one time. So his tree kep’ on a-growin’ an’ a-branchin’.
“But Little Hahsie he ain’t a-waterin’ no trees. If darie ole tree o’ his want water, den it ’ad a-better sa’nter over to de water-hole an’ get it; or if it want to die, well, it can yust die an’ be blowed to it, ses he. Den he’d go off an’ squot down an’ watch Ou’ Sculpat carryin’ water, an’ he’d laugh an’ laugh; but he don’t let nob’dy ketch him at dat.
“Well, dis went on an’ on, till Little Hahsie’s tree’s dead wid de want o’ water, while Ou’ Sculpat’s is big an’ bushy wid de plenty of it, an’ in a while it’s fair hangin’ full an’ bendin’ down wid peaches—nice, big, yuicy, girl’s-cheek peaches.
“Ses Ou’ Sculpat to Hahsie: ‘If you’d on’y a-watered your tree you’d a-had peaches too now. Don’t you wis’ you had?’
“‘Well, dem peaches is look nice,’ ses Hahsie. ‘But dey’d be a lot nicer for you if you could get at ’em to eat ’em. How’s you gun’ to do dat, Sculpat?’
“Ou’ Sculpat swivel his eye to look at Hahsie. Hahsie don’t wink a word. Ses he: ‘It’s all right, ain’t it? Dere’s your peaches an’ dere’s you, but dere ain’t de eatin’—an’ de eadn’s de ting, ain’t it? How about dat part, Sculpat?’
“Ou’ Sculpat yust drop right flat at dat; he hain’t never tink o’ dat. He look at dat tree an’ he look at dem peaches, such nice big peaches; an’ den he look at Little Hahsie. ‘What’ll I ha’ to do?’ ses he.
“‘Well,’ ses Hahsie, ‘I reckon dere ain’t on’y one way. You’ll ha’ to get some’dy to climb up in de tree an’ drop ’em down to you.’
“‘An’ you’s de on’y one I knows dat can do it,’ ses Sculpat. ‘How if you was to go up in de tree den?’
“‘A’ right,’ ses Hahsie, like he’s doin’ de bigges’ kind of a favour. ‘I’ll have a try, anyhow,’ ses he, like he ain’t so sure he can do it. But he gi’es a hop, a skip, an’ a yump, an’ you can hear him laugh as he land up in dem lower branches like a bird. Den he climb an’ he climb till he’s right up where de nicest peaches is. An’ den—why, den he ’gins to eat ’em.
“You should a-hear Ou’ Sculpat shout at dat. ‘Ho yeh!’ ses he, ‘what for you eat dem peaches up dere?’
“‘’Cause dey’s nice, what else?’ ses Hahsie. ‘Dey’s about de nicest peaches I ever tasted. Here you is; dis stone now,’ ses he, an’ he drop a peach stone fair on Ou’ Sculpat’s nose. ‘You plant darie stone, an’ by’n’by you’ll have a tree o’ your own to eat off, an’ den you won’t need to dance an’ prance round dis one while you’s watchin’ me eat peaches.’
“Sculpat he fair whistle, he’s dat mad. ‘By gum! You flop right down out o’ dat or I’ll knock de by-gum stuffin’ out o’ you,’ ses he, an’ he yust paw de air. ‘Dem’s my peaches,’ ses he.
“‘Is dey?’ ses Hahsie. ‘Den if dey is I’d advise you to shake yourse’f a bit an’ come up an’ get a few while dere’s some left,’ an’ Hahsie sort o’ smile down at him.
“Ou’ Sculpat he reg’lar stretch his neck down dere on de ground. ‘You’s smart,’ ses he, ‘almighty smart; but I know what I’ll do. You yust stop up dere an’ see if I don’t fix you. You wait a bit, dat’s all,’ an’ he turns an’ he offs back to de spruit, wid Little Hahsie singin’ a song to him as far as he can hear him, about how nice it is to eat peaches in de tree.
“But it ain’t no time at all ’fore here comes Ou’ Sculpat back agen, an’ de hool gang o’ de sculpats wid him. An’ dey make no mo’ to do, but dey marches right up to de tree an’ ’gins to bite it round to cut it down. ‘Now we’s got you,’ ses Sculpat. ‘We’ll see how you like it when we get hold o you.’
“‘When you get hold o’ me,’ ses Hahsie. ‘Fire away den,’ an’ he yust keep on a-eatin’ peaches like dat’s what he was born doin’.
“By’n’by de tree’s mighty near cut troo, an’ by dat time dere ain’t one peach left. Little Hahsie’s eat de last one. ‘Dat’s a’ right,’ ses Sculpat. ‘But I’s yust a-gun’ to knock dem peaches out o’ you agen now, wid all de rest o’ de by-gum stuffin’.’
“Dencar-r-rack! goes de tree, an’ it ’gin to swing dis way an’ dat way, an’ all de sculpats stand ready to ketch Little Hahsie. Dencur-rack-racksounds de tree an’ down it come; but, yust as it’s a-fallin’, dere’s Little Hahsie,dar soh! away out yonder. For he gi’en one fair ole winger of a yump, an’ he land far out de yonder side de ring o’ sculpats, an’ dere he goes now a-streakin’ over de rise an’ out o’ sight. ‘Who’s a-knockin’ de stuffin’ out o’ who now?’ ses he, as he send de heel dust a-flyin’ behind him.
“But de sculpats dey ain’t done yet. Dey’s too mad to gi’e up so easy as dat. ‘I know what he’ll do,’ ses Ou’ Sculpat. ‘He’s yust so full o’ peaches he’ll squot right down dere over de rise an’ go to sleep. So we’ll do dis; we’ll get round him in a great big ring a mile wide, an’ den when he ’gins to run agen we’ll keep a-poppin’ up an’ a-poppin’ up everywhere he stops, till he’ll yust run on till he drops. Den we has him.’
“‘Dat’s yust what we’ll do,’ ses all de sculpats. An’ right dere dey start to do it.
“Well, Little Hahsie was a-sleepin’ on de yonder side de ridge, where he’d squotted down, when up pops Ou’ Sculpat, yust dat close dat dere ain’t no time for foolin’ or anytin’ but gettin’ away. But Hahsie flick up his heels an’ laugh as he go. ‘Why don’t you ketch me?’ ses he.
“Ou’ Sculpat grin, but he don’t say nawtin’. He yust flop down in de grass agen an’ wait.
“In a while Klein Hahsie rinks he’s run fur enough, but he hadn’t more’n stop ’fore up pops anoder sculpat a-comin’ at him.
“‘Hello!’ ses Hahsie. ‘Here a’ready, is you? Allah Crachty! how you manage dat?’ But de sculpat keep a-comin’ on, an’ Hahsie has to off agen, an’ dis time he don’t flick his heels.
“Well, de same ring happen once an’ de same ring happen twice, an’ it went on like dat till Little Hahsie was dat near done for dat de sculpats ’gin to close in on him. ‘Now we’s got you,’ ses dey.
“‘Has you?’ ses Hahsie, an’ he look round, an’ dere he sees a dead elephant lyin’ in de grass. ‘Dat’s de ting,’ ses he, an’ he makes a dive an’ he pops right inside dat elephant, troo his mouf.
“Now dat elephant was all swelled up wid bein’ two days dead, an’ when Little Hahsie dives inside it, head fust it set up such a morion an’ commotion dat it look like de elephant’s a-gun’ to roll over an’ get up on to his four big legs. De trunk lift up, an’ de top ear wag, an’ de sculpats all rink, by jimminy, darie elephant’s de liv’est elephant dey’s seen dis many a day.
“‘Run now!’ shouts de sculpats. ‘Darie elephant’s Klein Hahsie’s daddy, an’ he’s a-gun’ to get up an’ tromp us to smash! Get away now!’ ses dey.
“Little Hahsie, inside, he hear all dat, an’ he fair ’gun to ramp about in dat elephant, an’ he shout outen his trunk like billy-o, an’ it made dat big a row, an’ dat big a wiggle, dat you hain’t never seen no sculpats ever doin’ no sich a gettin’ away as dey did. ’Fore dat time dey used to have hair on ’em like a otter, but dey went dat far an’ dey went dat fas’—for sculpats—troo de bush an’ de stones an’ de grass, dat dey wear all de hair off n ’em, till dey get’s quite smoove an’ polish like you sees ’em now.
“An’ dat’s why de sculpats is got no hair on ’em,” concluded the old Hottentot, with all the dignity of a learned professor to his class.