Four caps wasn't much, Hans." "No, Baas, but it was enough; as they were all good ones.

If there had been forty you could not have done much more.

Oh! your reverend father knew all that" (my departed parent had become a kind of patron saint to Hans) "and did not wish this poor old Hottentot to have more to carry than was needed.

He knew you wouldn't miss, Baas, and that there were only one god, one devil, and one man waiting to be killed." I laughed, for Hans's way of putting things was certainly original, and having got on my coat, went to see Stephen.

At the door of the tent I met Brother John, whose shoulder was dreadfully sore from the rubbing of the orchid stretcher, as were his hands with paddling, but who otherwise was well enough and of course supremely happy.
He told me that he had cleansed and sewn up Stephen's wound, which appeared to be doing well, although the spear had pierced right through the shoulder, luckily without cutting any artery.