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the Hottentot； sharpening a bowie knife。
She held her breath。 Not a cony in all the rocks was so still。
〃They can never find me here；〃 she said； and she knelt； and listened to
every word they said。 She could hear it all。
〃You may have all the money；〃 said the Bushman； 〃but I want the cask
of brandy。 I will set the roof alight in six places； for a Dutchman burnt
my mother once alive in a hut； with three children。〃
〃You are sure there is no one else on the farm？〃 said the navvy。
〃No； I have told you till I am tired；〃 said Dirk； 〃The two Kaffirs have
gone with the son to town； and the maids have gone to a dance； there is
only the old man and the two women left。〃
〃But suppose；〃 said the navvy； 〃he should have the gun at his bedside；
and loaded！〃
〃He never has；〃 said Dirk； 〃it hangs in the passage； and the cartridges
too。 He never thought when he bought it what work it was for！ I only
wish the little white girl was there still；〃 said Dirk； 〃but she is drowned。
We traced her footmarks to the great pool that has no bottom。〃
She listened to every word； and they talked on。
Afterwards； the little Bushman； who crouched over the fire； sat up
suddenly； listening。
〃Ha！ what is that？〃 he said。
A Bushman is like a dog： his ear is so fine he knows a jackal's tread
from a wild dog's。
〃I heard nothing；〃 said the navvy。
〃I heard；〃 said the Hottentot； 〃but it was only a cony on the rocks。〃
〃No cony； no cony；〃 said the Bushman； 〃see； what is that there moving
in the shade round the point？〃
〃Nothing； you idiot！〃 said the navvy。 〃Finish your meat； we must
start now。〃
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Dream Life and Real Life A Little African Story
There were two roads to the homestead。 One went along the open
plain； and was by far the shortest； but you might be seen half a mile off。
The other ran along the river bank； where there were rocks； and holes； and
willow trees to hide among。 And all down the river bank ran a little
figure。
The river was swollen by the storm full to its banks； and the willow
trees dipped their half…drowned branches into its water。 Wherever there
was a gap between them； you could see it flow； red and muddy； with the
stumps upon it。 But the little figure ran on and on； never looking； never
thinking； panting； panting！ There； where the rocks were the thickest；
there； where on the open space the moonlight shone； there； where the
prickly pears were tangled； and the rocks cast shadows； on it ran； the little
hands clinched； the little heart beating； the eyes fixed always ahead。
It was not far to run now。 Only the narrow path between the high
rocks and the river。
At last she came to the end of it； and stood for an instant。 Before her
lay the plain； and the red farmhouse； so near； that if persons had been
walking there you might have seen them in the moonlight。 She clasped
her hands。 〃Yes； I will tell them； I will tell them！〃 she said； 〃I am almost
there！〃 She ran forward again； then hesitated。 She shaded her eyes
from the moonlight； and looked。 Between her and the farmhouse there
were three figures moving over the low bushes。
In the sheeny moonlight you could see how they moved on； slowly and
furtively； the short one； and the one in light clothes； and the one in dark。
〃I cannot help them now！〃 she cried； and sank down on the ground；
with her little hands clasped before her。
。。。
〃Awake； awake！〃 said the farmer's wife； 〃I hear a strange noise；
something calling； calling； calling！〃
The man rose； and went to the window。
〃I hear it also；〃 he said； 〃surely some jackal's at the sheep。 I will load
my gun and go and see。〃
〃It sounds to me like the cry of no jackal；〃 said the woman； and when
he was gone she woke her daughter。
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Dream Life and Real Life A Little African Story
〃Come； let us go and make a fire； I can sleep no more；〃 she said； 〃I
have heard a strange thing tonight。 Your father said it was a jackal's cry；
but no jackal cries so。 It was a child's voice； and it cried； 'Master； master；
wake！'〃
The women looked at each other； then they went to the kitchen； and
made a great fire； and they sang psalms all the while。
At last the man came back； and they asked him； 〃What have you
seen？〃 〃Nothing；〃 he said； 〃but the sheep asleep in their kraals； and the
moonlight on the walls。 And yet； it did seem to me；〃 he added； 〃that far
away near the krantz by the river； I saw three figures moving。 And
afterwardsit might have been fancyI thought I heard the cry again； but
since that； all has been still there。〃
。。。
Next day a navvy had returned to the railway works。
〃Where have you been so long？〃 his comrades asked。
〃He keeps looking over his shoulder；〃 said one； 〃as though he thought
he should see something there。〃
〃When he drank his grog today；〃 said another； 〃he let it fall； and
looked round。〃
Next day； a small old Bushman； and a Hottentot； in ragged yellow
trousers； were at a wayside canteen。 When the Bushman had had brandy；
he began to tell how something （he did not say whether it was man；
woman； or child） had lifted up its hands and cried for mercy； had kissed a
white man's hands； and cried to him to help it。 Then the Hottentot took
the Bushman by the throat； and dragged him out。
Next night； the moon rose up； and mounted the quiet sky。 She was
full now； and looked in at the little home； at the purple flowers stuck about
the room； and the kippersol on the shelf。 Her light fell on the willow
trees； and on the high rocks； and on a little new…made heap of earth and
round stones。 Three men knew what was under it； and no one else ever
will。
Lily Kloof； South Africa。
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Dream Life and Real Life A Little African Story
II。 THE WOMAN'S ROSE。
I have an old； brown carved box； the lid is broken and tied with a
string。 In it I keep little squares of paper； with hair inside； and a little
picture which hung over my brother's bed when we were children； and
other things as small。 I have in it a rose。 Other women also have such
boxes where they keep such trifles； but no one has my rose。
When my eye is dim； and my heart grows faint； and my faith in
woman flickers； and her present is an agony to me； and her future a
despair； the scent of that dead rose； withered for twelve years； comes back
to me。 I know there will be spring； as surely as the birds know it when
they see above the snow two tiny； quivering green leaves。 Spring cannot
fail us。
There were other flowers in the box once； a bunch of white acacia
flowers； gathered by the strong hand of a man； as we passed down a
village street on a sultry afternoon； when it had rained； and the drops fell
on us from the leaves of the acacia trees。 The flowers were damp； they
made mildew marks on the paper I folded them in。 After many years I
threw them away。 There is nothing of them left in the box now； but a
faint； strong smell of dried acacia； that recalls that sultry summer
afternoon； but the rose is in the box still。
It is many years ago now； I was a girl of fifteen； and I went to visit in a
small up…country town。 It was young in those days； and two days'
journey from the nearest village； the population consisted mainly of men。
A few were married； and had their wives and children； but most were
single。 There was only one young girl there when I came。 She was
about seventeen； fair； and rather fully…fleshed； she had large dreamy blue
eyes；