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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Come, draw your chair a little closer," she said, and their elbows now touching, they sat on through the night. The next morning at dawn, as Em passed through Tant Sannie's bedroom, she found the Boer-woman pulling off her boots preparatory to climbing into bed. "Where is Piet Vander Walt?" "Just gone," said Tant Sannie; "and I am going to marry him this day four weeks.
In the farmhouse, on her great wooden bedstead, Tant Sannie, the Boer-woman, rolled heavily in her sleep. She had gone to bed, as she always did, in her clothes, and the night was warm and the room close, and she dreamed bad dreams.
On the stretcher behind the sacks Bonaparte lay on his face, his head pressed into a pillow, his legs kicking gently. The Boer-woman sat down on a box at the foot of the bed. The German stood with folded hands looking on. "We must all die," said Tant Sannie at last; "it is the dear Lord's will." Hearing her voice, Bonaparte turned himself on to his back.
To the centre table he walked, put his hat solemnly down by the big Bible, and bowed his head over it in silent prayer. The Boer-woman looked at the Hottentot, and the Hottentot looked at the Boer-woman.
"I know how it was when my first husband died. They could do nothing with me," the Boer-woman said, "till I had eaten a sheep's trotter, and honey, and a little roaster-cake. I know." Bonaparte sat up on the bed with his legs stretched out in front of him, and a hand on each knee, blubbering softly. "Oh, she was a woman! You are very kind to try and comfort me, but she was my wife.
This was a man of God. They knelt down to pray. The Boer-woman weighed two hundred and fifty pounds, and could not kneel. She sat in her chair, and peeped between her crossed fingers at the stranger's back. She could not understand what he said; but he was in earnest. He shook the chair by the back rail till it made quite a little dust on the mud floor.
As the two girls rounded the side of the kopje, an unusual scene presented itself. A large group was gathered at the back door of the homestead. On the doorstep stood the Boer-woman, a hand on each hip, her face red and fiery, her head nodding fiercely.
I loved you, did I? I would have liked to marry you, would I? would I? WOULD I?" cried the Boer-woman; "you cat's tail, you dog's paw! Be near my house tomorrow morning when the sun rises," she gasped, "my Kaffers will drag you through the sand. They would do it gladly, any of them, for a bit of tobacco, for all your prayings with them."
"She is English. I do not know how her father came to marry a Boer-woman. It makes me feel so strange to put down that letter, that I can hardly go on writing 'E'. I've loved her ever since I came here.
"He must have been a great fool to eat my peaches," said Tant Sannie. "They are full of mites as a sheepskin, and as hard as stones." Bonaparte, fumbling in his pocket, did not even hear her remark, and took out from his coat-tail a little horsewhip, nicely rolled up. Bonaparte winked at the little rhinoceros horsewhip, at the Boer-woman, and then at the door.
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