Outa Karel's Stories Part 14

The usual discussion took place when Outa had finished, and at last Pietie said, "If I had to be a Tortoise, I'd be a red one."

"Why, my little master?"

"Because the Crows and Lammervangers don't catch it. To be swallowed by an ostrich or stick in a giraffe's throat would not be so bad, but I'd hate to be broken on the stones."

"Ach! my baasje, no matter how Old Friend Death comes, we are never ready for him. When Outa was young he was nearly killed by a troop of springbucks, and he thought, 'No, not toch trampled to death; to be carried down the river is better.' But when the flood came and the river carried Outa away, he fought for his life just as hard as when the springbucks were on him. It was the same when the hut was burnt, and when the mad bull chased Outa across the veld. Over and over again the same. Always another sort of death seems better. Always Old Friend Death finds a man not quite ready for him."

"And now how would you like him to find you, Outa?" asked Willem with much interest.

A whimsical smile spread over the old man's face. "Ach! to hear him! Just sitting in the sun, my baasje, by the skeer-kraal wall, where I have sat for so many, many years. When he comes I will say, 'Morning, Old Friend, you have been a long time on the road--ach! so long, that I am tired of waiting. Let us go at once.' A person needn't pack up for that trek, baasjes. I'll just drop my old sheepskin kaross, and take Old Friend Death's hand and let him show me the way. It is far, my baasjes, far to that land, and no one ever comes back from it. Then someone else will tell the stories by the fire: there will be no Outa any more to talk to the little masters." His voice had dropped to a musing tone.

"Don't! Don't!" cried Pietie in a choked voice.

"Outa, you mustn't say such things," said Willem, and they each seized one of Outa's crooked hands, while little Jan clung to his old coat as though he would never let it go.

"I want my Outa," he cried. "He mustn't go away. I want my Outa Karel!"

The old man's eyes glistened with a moisture not often seen in them. "Still! still! my little baasjes," he said, stroking first one and then another. "Outa doesn't want to make them sad. He is not going yet. He will sit here and tell his foolish stories for many nights yet." A caressing smile broke over his grotesque face. "And do they then want to keep their Outa? Ach! to think of it! The kind little hearts! But what will the Nooi say if the eyes are juicy? No, Outa only said about the skeer-kraal and sitting in the sun because it sounds so nice and friendly. Look how lively and well Outa is--like a young bull-calf!" He pretended playfully to toss them. "That's right, my children, now you laugh again. But young bull-calves must also go in the kraal, and the hut is calling Outa. Night, my baasjes, night, night. Sleep well. To-morrow Outa will tell them another beautiful story. Ach, the dear little ones! So good to their ugly Outa!"

Followed by a chorus of "good-nights" from the children; the old man shuffled away, not knowing that he had spoken with prophetic voice, and that Friend Death would find him, even as he wished, sitting in the sun by the skeer-kraal.

But that was not yet awhile, and he told many stories before setting out on the Great Trek for the Unknown Veld whence no traveller returns.

Glasgow: Printed at the University Press by Robert Maclehose and Co. Ltd.

NOTES

[1] Sa.s.saby (also spelt Sesseby) or b.a.s.t.a.r.d Hartebeest are much smaller than the Hartebeest proper, and are found in open veld near forest country.

[2] The Hyena, on first starting, appears lame in the hind legs--a fact accounted for by the Hottentots in the foregoing fable.

[3] "Berry, berry, blackberry, Hold your hands together."

[4] The Kaap--Cape Town.

[5] It is both curious and interesting to find the identical belief obtaining amongst races so widely different as the Scandinavians of Northern Europe and the Bushmen of South Africa.--See Hans Andersen's Little Match Girl: "Her Grandmother had told her that when a star fell down a soul mounted up to G.o.d."

[6] "When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of G.o.d shouted for joy."--Job x.x.xviii. 7.

[7] According to a Hottentot legend, the hare is related to the donkey.

[8] Voertsed.--Evidently a word of Outa's coining, meaning to jump round suddenly and violently.

[9] Mountain tortoise.

[10] An aromatic veld herb, from which a decoction is made. Sprinkling buchu under the arm is a Hottentot custom in token of approval.

[11] The Mimosa, which is white when burnt by the sun.