"What did he tell your brother?"
"That's just what I don't know. My brother and I have had a blooming
diplomatic difference; don't speak, you know. He actually appears to
think that I've had a hand in this business;--as if your feet were not
big enough to do your own kicking."
Koos gave a gasp of relief. His mind had become almost unnaturally
alert under the strain upon it. If Max thought as Nathan said, it was
clear that he knew nothing definite.
The unhappy man became conscious of the fact that he had not eaten since
early on the previous day. A sudden hunger seized him; he felt like a
wolf. He begged of Nathan to give him food. Nathan led the way into
the shop, and there produced a loaf of bread, and some bultong which he
took out of a sack under the counter. Koos seized greedily upon the
food and ate with avidity. Nathan watched him narrowly. When he had
finished eating Koos arose and left the shop. Max had just previously
come in, so Nathan went out after Koos. He still felt a stiffness in
his shoulder from the effects of last night's gripping. He shrugged it
purposely until he felt a severe twinge. The pain was like salt for the
feast of his revenge against the strong man who had hurt and insulted
him.
"Well, old man, had a good feed?"
"Yes, I ate well."
"Yes, you seemed to enjoy your grub. I say, Koos, I've been thinking
things over a bit, and I find I'll want a few more of those cattle of
yours. What do you say to my taking another fifty head?"
Koos looked up. His alert senses had detected something unusual in the
tone of Nathan's voice. Nathan had distinctly said that he did not
require any more cattle.
"I'm thinking of taking another trip to Cape Town, and I thought you
might just drive another lot down as far as Clanwilliam for me. What do
you say?"
"Yes, you can have the cattle, but I cannot leave home just now; you
will have to take them over at my camp."
"Well, old man--to oblige a friend, you know. I think you will be able,
at all events, to send them on for me, eh?"
Nathan looked at Koos with such an amount of sinister meaning that the
miserable Boer was filled with a vague sense of fresh dismay. Nathan
continued--
"Look here, old man, I'll tell you what we'll do: we'll just drive down
to your place to-morrow--across the dunes, you know--then we'll pick out
the cattle and arrange about how you will send them down."
"But how can we cross the dunes? Your mules will never pull the cart
through?"
"Quite right, old man; and that's why you are to drive me down in your
own trap. You told me that you crossed the dunes as you came up, so you
might as well go back the same way. See?"
"But how are you to get back here if you do not take your own cart?"
Nathan dug Koos playfully in the ribs, and then linked his skinny arm
with the Boer's large limb.
"Well, how stupid of me not to have thought of that. Let's see--how can
I get back, eh? Oh, I've just thought of a splendid plan: you'll drive
me back too."
Koos gave a sidelong glance of such bitter hatred at the stunted figure
at his side that, had Nathan seen it, he surely would have recognised
the danger of the course he was pursuing. But Nathan supposed that the
giant was quite cowed, that this Samson was completely shorn of his
locks. In his preoccupation he forgot about the Pillars of Gaza.
His thoughts were far away. He was evolving complicated schemes,
planning vast undertakings, which he meant to effect by means of this
rough instrument, whose strength might be guided by his puny hand. He
had reasoned it out--his theory as to the proper management of this
tamed monster, and had come to the conclusion that curb, whip, and spur
should be used upon him unsparingly, until he was thoroughly broken to
harness.