"It's a pebble," the Englishman said, pocketing it as carelessly as
he could, and trying to look unconcerned, for his new acquaintance
held a long native spear in his stout left hand, and looked by no
means the sort of person to be lightly trifled with.
"Oh, dat a pebble, mistah white man!" the Barolong said sarcastically,
holding out his black right hand with a very imperious air. "Den
you please hand him over dat pebble you find. Me got me orders.
King Khatsua no want any diamond digging in Barolong land."
Granville tried to parley with the categorical native; but his
attempts at palaver were eminently unsuccessful. The naked black
man was master of the situation.
"You hand over dat stone, me friend," he said, assuming a menacing
attitude, and holding out his hand once more with no very gentle
air, "or me run you trew de body wit me assegai--just so! King
Khatsua, him no want any diamond diggings in Barolong land."
And, indeed, Granville Kelmscott couldn't help admitting to himself,
when he came to think of it, that King Khatsua was acting wisely in
his generation. For the introduction of diggers into his dominions
would surely have meant, as everywhere else, the speedy proclamation
of a British protectorate, and the final annihilation of King
Khatsua himself and his dusky fellow-countrymen.
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