Jim as a rule Makokel', when relations were strained. 

 The waggon-boys found it safer to use his proper 

 name. When anything had upset him it was not con- 

 sidered wise to take the liberty of shouting " Jim " : 

 the answer sometimes came in the shape of a hammering. 



Many men had employed Jim before he came to 

 me, and all had ' sacked ' him for fighting, drinking, 

 and the unbearable worry he caused. They told me 

 this, and said that he gave more trouble than his work 

 was worth. It may have been true : he certainly was 

 a living test of patience, purpose, and management ; 

 but, for something learnt in that way, I am glad now 

 that Jim never ' got the sack ' from me. Why he did 

 not, is not easy to say ; perhaps the circumstances 

 under which he came to me and the hard knocks of 

 an unkind fate pleaded for him. But it was not that 

 alone : there was something in Jim himself some- 

 thing good and fine, something that shone out from 

 time to time through his black skin and battered face 

 as the soul of a real man. 



It was in the first season in the Bushveld that we 

 were outspanned one night on the sand-hills over- 

 looking Delagoa Bay among scores of other waggons 

 dotted about in little camps all loading or waiting 

 for loads to transport to the Transvaal. Delagoa 

 was not a good place to stay in, in those days : liquor 

 was cheap and bad ; there was very little in the way 

 of law and order ; and every one took care of himself 

 as well as he could. The Kaffir kraals were close about 

 the town, and the natives of the place were as rascally 

 a lot of thieves and vagabonds as you could find any- 



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