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He had been looking at the cow, and feeling it, when down out of the hayloft had come leaping the form of the Rooinek lieutenant, which had sprung in between him and the cow, and, stooping, had wrapped a white rag round his thigh, above the knee.

I saw that Rooinek lieutenant I shot when he was bringing me drink, thinking I was wounded.

“There you are, rooinek,” he said surlily.

I want him to make this rooinek run—if he can.”

Well, here’s a rooinek you can’t make run, Hermanus Delport, elephant as you are.