quietly to the top of a kopje--so, my baasjes, so--with his stomach close to the ground, and his ears moving backwards and forwards"--Outa's little hands, on either side of the kopdoek, suited the action to the word--"to hear the least sound. Then he looked here, he looked there, he looked all around, and yes, truly! whom do you think he saw in the kloof below? No other than Oom Leeuw himself, clawing a nice big hamel he had just killed--a Boer hamel, baasjes, with a beautiful fat tail. Oh yes, Oom Leeuw had picked out a good one.
"'Arre!' thought Jakhals, 'this is luck,' and he sat still for a minute, wondering how he could get some of the nice meat for himself. He soon made a plan. A white thing fluttered in a little bush near him. It was a piece of paper. He picked it up and folded it--so--and so--and so--" the crooked fingers were very busy--"till it looked like a letter. Then he ran down the kopje in a great hurry and called out, 'Good morning, Oom.'
"'I see Oom has