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"'Never mind,' he said at last, 'Tante is only a vrouwmens; I won't bother with her any more. But wait till I catch Oom Reijer. He'll be sorry he poked his long nose into my business, the old meddler,'
and he trotted off to look for him.
"He hunted and hunted, and at last he found him standing on one leg at the side of the river, with his long neck drawn in and his head resting on his shoulders.
"'Good day, Oom Reijer,' he said politely. 'How is Oom to-day?'
"'I'm all right,' answered Oom Reijer shortly, without moving an inch.
"Jakhals spoke in a little small voice--ach! toch so humble. 'Oom, please come this way a little: I'm so stupid, but you are so wise and clever, and I want to ask your advice about something.'
"Oom Reijer began to listen. It is maar so when people hear about themselves. He put down his other leg, stretched out his neck, and asked over his shoulder, 'What did you say, eh?'
"'Come toch this way a little; the mud over there is too soft for me to stand on. I want your valuable advice about the wind. The other people all say I must ask you, because no one is as wise as you.'
"Truly Jakhals was a slim kerel! He knew how to stroke Oom Reijer's feathers the right way.
"Oom Reijer came slowly over the mud--a person mustn't show he is too pleased: he even stopped to swallow a little frog on the way, and then he said, carelesslike, 'Yes, I can tell you all about the wind and weather. Ask what you like, Jakhals.' His long neck twisted about with pride.
"Oom, when the wind is from the west, how must one hold one's head?'
"'Is that all?' said Oom Reijer. 'Just so.' And he turned his head to the east.
"'Thank you, Oom. And when the wind is from the east?'
"'So.' Oom Reijer bent his neck the other way.
"'Thank you, Oom,' said the little small voice, so grateful and humble. 'But when there is a storm and the rain beats down, how then?'
"'So!' said Oom Reijer, and he bent his neck down till his head nearly touched his toes.
"My little masters, just as quickly as a whip-snake shoots into his hole, so Jakhals shot out his arm and caught Oom Reijer on the bend of his neck--crack!--and in a minute the poor old bird was rolling in the mud with his neck nearly broken, and so weak that he couldn't even lift his beak to peck at the false wicked eyes that were staring at him.
"O! how glad was cruel Jakhals! He laughed till he couldn't any more. He screamed and danced with pleasure. He waved his bushy tail, and the silver mane on his back bristled as he jumped about.
"'Ha! ha! ha! Oom thought to do me a bad turn, but I'll teach people not to interfere with me. Ha! ha! ha! No one is as wise as Oom Reijer, eh? Then he will soon find out how to mend his broken neck. Ha! ha! ha!'
"Jakhals gave one last spring right over poor Oom Reijer, and danced off to his den in the kopjes to tell Tante Jakhals and the little Jakhalsjes how he had cheated Oom Reijer.
"And from that day, baasjes, Oom Reijer's neck is crooked: he can't hold it straight; and it's all through trying to interfere with Jakhals. That is why I said Jakhals is a slim kerel. Whether he walks on four legs or on two, the best is maar to leave him alone because he can always make a plan, and no one ever gets the better of him without paying for it in the end."
XIV.
THE LITTLE RED TORTOISE.
"No Jakhals story to-night, please, Outa," said little Jan, as they gathered round the fire. "We all think Jakhals was a cruel horrid creature, eating the poor little Doves and cracking the good Heron's neck."
"Yes," chimed in Pietie, "he was always playing wicked tricks, so no more Jakhals for us. What will you tell us to-night, Outa?"
"Something really nice," suggested Willem, "and not unkind."
Outa's beady black eyes twinkled from one to another of his little masters, while an affectionate smile spread over his yellow face, accentuating the wrinkles which criss-crossed it in every direction.
"Ach! the soft young hearts! Outa's heart was like that once, too, but"--he shook his head--"if the heart doesn't get a little taai like a biltong, it is of no use to a person in this old hard world." He deposited his shapeless hat on the floor, tapped his red kopdoek with a clawlike forefinger, and waited for an inspiration. It came from an unexpected quarter, for suddenly there was a commotion at the end of his old coat, the tails of which hung down nearly to the floor, and, diving into his pocket, the old man triumphantly produced a squirming tortoise.
"See what Outa caught for the baasjes near the Klip Kop this afternoon--a nice little berg schilpad. [9] Now Baas Willem can put it in his kraal with the others and let it lay eggs. It is still young, but it will grow--yes, so big." A cart-wheel might have been comfortably contained in the circle described by Outa's arms.
It was a k.n.o.bbly, darkly-marked tortoise, quite unlike those the little boys generally found in the veld near the house, and they took possession of it with delight and suggestions as to a name. After discussion, honours were equally in favour of "Piet Retief" and "Mrs. Van Riebeeck," and it was decided that the casting vote should be left to Cousin Minnie, the children's governess.
For a long time they had kept tortoises of all sorts and sizes in their schilpad-kraal, and so tame and intelligent had some of these creatures grown that they would come when called, and big old "Woltemade" roamed about at will, often disappearing for a time, and returning to his companions after a few days in the veld.
Outa turned the new acquisition on its back on the jackalskin rug, where it lay wriggling and going through the strangest contortions. "Ach! the wise little man. Is it there its mother sprinkled it with buchu, [10] there, just under its arm?" He touched the skinny under-side of one of its forelegs. "Here, Baas Willem, put it in the soap-boxie till to-morrow. Ach! if only it had been a red tortoise, how glad Outa would have been!"
"A red tortoise!" echoed Pietie and little Jan, while Willem hurried back from the pa.s.sage to hear all about it.
"And have the baasjes then never heard of a red tortoise? Yes, certainly, sometimes a red one is born, but not often--only once in a thousand years; and when this happens the news is sent round, because it is such a wonderful thing; and the whole nation of Schilpads--those frogs with bony s.h.i.+elds and hard beaks--are glad because they know the little red one has come to help them against their enemies.
"Once a long, long time ago a mother Schilpad laid an egg in a shallow hole in the sand, just where the sun could warm it all the day, and she sc.r.a.ped a little sand over it, so that no one could see it. See baasjes, she was afraid of thieves. It was white and round, and so large that she felt very proud of it, and she often went to see how it was getting on. One day, as she got near the place she heard a little voice: 'Peep! Peep! Mam-ma, mam-ma, come and find me.'
"So she called out, 'Kindje, kindje, here's your mam-ma.' My! but she walked fast! Her short legs just went so"--Outa's arms worked vigorously--"and when she got to the karroo-bush where she had put the egg the sh.e.l.l was broken and a little Red Tortoise was sitting alongside of it!
"His sh.e.l.l was soft, and you could see everything inside of him, and how the blood went this way and that way: but never mind, it is maar so with little tortoises. He was fine and healthy, and everything about him was quite red. Alle wereld! old Mam-ma was proud! She went and told all her friends, and they came from all sides to see the little Red Tortoise. There were berg tortoises, and vlakte tortoises, and zand-kruipers, and even water tortoises, young and old, and they all sat round and praised him and gave him good advice and nice things to eat.
"He listened to everything and ate all the nice things, and grew bigger and redder and harder, but he didn't talk much, and the Old Ones nodded to each other and said, 'Ach, but he is sensible!' But the Young Ones said, 'Ach, but he is stuck-up!' and they went away and crawled in the red clay to make themselves red. But it was no good. In a little while it all rubbed off.
"At last all the visitor Schilpads went home again. But the little Red Tortoise stayed with his Mam-ma, and went on growing bigger and redder and harder, and his Mam-ma was toch so proud of him!
"When he walked in the veld and the other young tortoises said to him, 'Come, we'll show you the way to do things; you must do so, and you must do so,' he said, 'You can do so if you like, but I'll do things my own way!' And they said 'Stuck-up Red Thing! Wait, Oubaas Giraffe will get you!' But they left him alone, and although they all wished they were red, they did not crawl in the clay any more: they knew it was no good. It was only from outside, so it soon rubbed off, but the little Red One's redness was from inside; and baasjes know, for a thing to be any good it must be on the inside." He glanced involuntarily at the wall-cupboard where his soopje was safely locked up: it would certainly not be any good, in his opinion, till it was on the inside of him.
"But when the Old Tortoises gave him advice, the little Red Tortoise listened and thanked them. He was a wise little man. He knew when to speak and when to hold his tongue.
"At that time, my baasjes, the whole Tortoise nation was having a hard time with Oubaas Giraffe--that old horse with the long neck and the unequal legs, who is all white and black like a burnt thornbush [11] with crows sitting on it. He gives blue ashes when he is burnt, therefore is he called the Blue One.
"He had taken to eating tortoises. They didn't know what to do. They tried to make a plan, but no! they could find no remedy. Whenever Oubaas Giraffe saw a nice young tortoise that he could easily swallow, he picked it up in his mouth, and from fright it pulled its head and all its feet into its sh.e.l.l, and--goops!--one swallow and it had sailed down the Blue One's long throat, just like baasjes sail down the plank at the side of the skeer-kraal.
"The little Red Tortoise listened to the plans that were made, and at last he thought of a plan. He was not sure how it would go, but he was a brave little one, and he thought by himself, 'If it goes wrong, there will be no more little Red Tortoise: but if it goes right, then the whole Tortoise nation will be able to live again.'
"So what did he do, my baasjes? He crawled out far in the veld and sat in the path where the Old Blue One liked to walk. Soon he heard goof, goof, goof, coming nearer and nearer. Then the noise stopped. The little Red One peeped from under his sh.e.l.l. Yes, there was the great Blue One, standing over him and looking very fierce.
"Do you know, little Red Tortoise, in one moment I could trample you to death?'
"The little Red One was very frightened, for this was not his plan, but he said nothing.
"'Do you know, little Red Tortoise, in one moment I could swallow you?'