Japp went up to the huts and hired a slattern to mind his house, and then drank heavily for three days to console himself.
That night I sat smoking with Mr Wardlaw in his sitting-room, where a welcome fire burned, for the nights on the Berg were chilly.

I remember the occasion well for the queer turn the conversation took.
Wardlaw, as I have said, had been working like a slave at the Kaffir tongues.

I talked a kind of Zulu well enough to make myself understood, and I could follow it when spoken; but he had real scholarship in the thing, and knew all about the grammar and the different dialects.

Further, he had read a lot about native history, and was full of the doings of Tchaka and Mosilikatse and Moshesh, and the kings of old.

Having little to do in the way of teaching, he had made up for it by reading omnivorously.