It takes time,” he says, “but I flatter myself that any men who have worked under me are at least grounded in the rudiments of their profession. Adrian,” he says, “was there anything wrong with the men who upset Van Besters' apple-cart last month when he was trying to cross the line to join Piper with those horses he'd stole from Gabbitas?”
' “No, Generaal,” says Van Zyl. “Your men got the horses back and eleven dead; and Van Besters, he ran to Delarey in his shirt. They was very good, those men. They shoot hard.”
' So pleased to hear you say so. I laid 'em down at the beginning of this century—a 1900 vintage. Toil remember 'em, Mankletow?” he says. “The Central Middlesex Buncho Busters—clerks and floor-walkers mostly,” and he wiped his moustache. “It was just the same with the Liverpool Buckjumpers, but they were stevedores. Let's see—they were a last-century draft, weren't they? They did well after nine months. Ton know 'em, Van Zyl? You didn't get much change out of 'em at Pootfontein?”
' “No,” says Van Zyl. “At Pootfontein I lost my son Andries.”
' “I beg your pardon, Commandant,” says the General; and the rest of the crowd sort of cooed over Adrian.
' “Excoose,” says Adrian. “It was all right. They were good men those, but it is just what I say. Some are so dam good we want to hands-up, and some are so dam bad, we say, 'Take the Vierkleur into Cape Town.' It is not upright of
