I've got a Christian Kaffir living up in one of the huts who comes every morning to talk to me for an hour.

You'd better join me.' I promised, and in the sweet-smelling dust crossed the road to the store.

Japp was still sleeping, so I got a bowl of mealie porridge from Zeeta and went to bed.
Japp was sober next morning and made me some kind of apology.

He had chronic lumbago, he said, and 'to go on the bust' now and then was the best cure for it.

Then he proceeded to initiate me into my duties in a tone of exaggerated friendliness.