The Settler and the Savage | Page 9

the mother's side, they said,
were descended from one of the French Huguenot families which
settled in the colony after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
"You see," said Mynheer Marais, with a quiet smile of satisfaction, as
he applied a boiled cob of mealies or Indian corn to his powerful teeth,
"our family may be said to be about two-thirds Dutch and one-third
French. In fact, we have also a little English blood in our veins, for my
great-grandfather's mother was English on the father's side and Dutch
on the mother's. Perhaps this accounts to some extent for my tendency
to adopt some English and American ideas in the improvement of my

farm, which is not a characteristic of my Cape-Dutch brethren."
"So I have been told, and to some extent have seen," said Considine,
with a sly glance; "in fact they appear to be rather lazy than otherwise."
"Not lazy, young sir," returned Marais with some emphasis. "They are
easy-going and easily satisfied, and not solicitous to add to their
material comforts beyond a certain point--in short, contented with little,
like Frenchmen, which is a praiseworthy condition of mind,
commended in Holy Writ, and not disposed to make haste to be rich,
like you English."
"Ah, I see," rejoined Considine, who observed a twinkle in the eyes of
some of Mynheer's stalwart sons.
"Yes," pursued the farmer, buttering another mealie-cob, and
commencing to eat it with infinite gusto, "you see, the Cape Dutchmen,
although as fine a set of men as ever lived, are just a little too contented
and slow; on the other hand, young sir, you English are much too
reckless and fast--"
"Just so," interrupted Considine, bowing his thanks to the hostess for a
third venison-steak which she had put on his plate; "the Dutch too slow,
the English too fast, so that three parts Dutch, two parts French, and
one part English--like a dash of seasoning--is, it seems, the perfect
Marais mixture."
This remark produced a sudden and unintentional burst of laughter
from the young Maraises, not so much on account of the excess of
humour contained in it, as from the fact that never before had they
heard a jest of any kind fabricated at the expense of their father, of
whom they stood much in awe, and for whom they had a profound
respect.
Conrad Marais, however, could take a joke, although not much given to
making one. He smiled blandly over the edge of his mealie-cob.
"You're right, sir,--right; the mixture is not a bad one. The Dutch

element gives steadiness, the English vigour, and the French spirit.--By
the way, Arend," he continued, turning to one of his stout
olive-branches, "talking of spirit reminds me that you will have to go to
work at that leak in the dam with more spirit than usual, for we can't
afford to lose water in this dry weather. It is not finished, I think?"
"No, father, but we hope to get it done this afternoon."
"That's well. How many of you are at it?"
"David and I, with six Totties. Old Sam is ill, and none of the others
can be spared to-day."
"Can't some of your brothers help?" asked the farmer. "Losing water is
as bad almost as losing gold."
"Joseph meant to come, but he started at six this morning to look after
the cattle. We hear that the Kafirs carried off some of Jan Smit's sheep
yesterday."
"The black scoundrels!" exclaimed Conrad Marais, with a growl and a
frown, "they are never at rest, either in times of peace or of war."
The frown passed as quickly as it came, and the genial smile habitual to
the farmer resumed its place on his countenance as he ran his fingers
through the thick masses of his iron-grey hair, and rose from the table.
"Come, Mr Considine," he said, putting on his hat, "are you disposed
for a ride? I take a look round the farm every morning to see that things
are going straight. Will you join me?"
Of course Considine gladly assented, and Hans said he would
accompany them, while the other sons--except of course the younger
ones, and the baby who was Bertha's special charge--went out to their
various avocations.
A few minutes later the three horsemen were cantering over the plain.
During the ride, Considine was again questioned closely as to his future

intentions and prospects, but without anything very satisfactory being
evolved. At last Conrad Marais pulled up, after a long pause in the
conversation, and while they advanced at a walk, said--"Well, I've been
thinking, and here is the outcome. You want work, Mr Considine, and I
want a workman. You've had a good education, which I count a
priceless advantage. Some of my sons have had a little,