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Updated: June 7, 2025


After a brief council of war it was resolved to join their forces and continue the search after Junkie. Proceeding on their way, they fell in with a wounded Kafir. He lay dying under a bush, and made no attempt to escape, although he evidently regarded the white men as enemies.

"Ye better no'," returned Junkie, with a shake of his fist that required no explanation. By this time the fish had darted like a lightning flash twice up stream, once down, three times across, and twice into the air.

I'd neither wash, nor pray, nor brush, nor anything, if it wasn't to please Milly and mother," he added, after a moment's reflection. "I like them, an' I don't care a button for anybody else." "What! for nobody else at all?" "Well, yes, I forgot I like Ivor, too." "Is that the sick gamekeeper, Junkie?" "Sick! no; he's the drunken keeper. Drunken Ivor, we call him not to his face, you know.

"In short, the most horrible sight you ever saw," said Junkie, drawing his blanket tighter round his shoulders, and crouching nearer to the bulky form of Scholtz for protection from the wind which was rising. "Yes, Junkie, it was the most 'orrible sight I ever saw, for wild savageness, so I drew my sword and gave the hox a prog that sent 'im 'ead over 'eels down the kloof w'ere 'e broke 'is back.

In a few minutes her husband returned with a bland smile. "Yes," he said, resuming his knife and fork; "it was Junkie, as usual, fighting with Flo for the black doll. No mischief would have followed, I daresay, but Archie and Eddie joined in the scrimmage, and between them they managed to upset the table. I found them wallowing in a sea of porridge and milk that was all!"

They expected to see him swim, for Junkie knew he was an expert swimmer; but the poor man was floating quietly down with the current, his head under water. "Banged his heed, what-e-ver!" cried Donald, jumping up and bounding down the bank to the lower and shallow end of the pool.

In the present case it was neither impossible nor dangerous, but it was difficult; and the way in which Giles Jackman went after that fish, staggering among pebbles, leaping obstructions, crashing through bushes and bounding over boulders, causing Quin to hold his sides with laughter, and little Junkie to stand transfixed and staring with admiration, was indescribable.

Following, then, at a respectful distance, and relying for success very much on the fisher's partial blindness and deafness, Junkie went out to have a day of it. He even went so far, in the matter of forethought, as to provide himself with a massive slice of bread and cheese to sustain him while carrying on his investigations.

Delay might be death! In these circumstances he seized the horrified Junkie by the arm, swung him on the pommel of his saddle, and galloped away up the kloof and over the mountains into the deepest recesses of Kafirland.

At another, within earshot of these, were Edwin Brook and his wife, his daughter Gertrude, Scholtz and his wife, Junkie, George Dally, and Stephen Orpin, with bluff Hans Marais, who had somehow got acquainted with the Brook family, and seemed to prefer their society to that of any other.

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