It was the tall figure of a man, clad in one loose linen garment, reaching lower than his knees, and which clung close about him. His head, arms, and feet were bare. He carried no weapon of any kind; and on his shoulders hung heavy locks of dark hair.
Peter Halket looked up at him with astonishment. "Are you alone?" he asked.
"Yes, I am alone."
Peter Halket lowered his gun and knelt up.
"Lost your way, I suppose?" he said, still holding his weapon loosely.
"No; I have come to ask whether I may sit beside your fire for a while."
"Certainly, certainly!" said Peter, eyeing the stranger's dress carefully, still holding his gun, but with the hand off the lock. "I'm confoundedly glad of any company. It's a beastly night for anyone to be out alone.
Wonder you find your way. Sit down! sit down!" Peter looked intently at the stranger; then he put his gun down at his side.
The stranger sat down on the opposite side of the fire. His complexion was dark; his arms and feet were bronzed; but his aquiline features, and the domed forehead, were not of any South African race.
"One of the Soudanese Rhodes brought with him from the north, I suppose?" said Peter, still eyeing him curiously.
No; Cecil Rhodes has had nothing to do with my coming here," said the stranger.
"Oh--" said Peter. "You didn't perhaps happen to come across a company of men today, twelve white men and seven coloured, with three cart loads of provisions? We were taking them to the big camp, and I got parted from my troop this morning. I've not been able to find them, though I've been seeking for them ever since."
The stranger warmed his hands slowly at the fire; then he raised his head:--"They are camped at the foot of those hills tonight," he said, pointing with his hand into the darkness at the left. "Tomorrow early they will be here, before the sun has risen."
"Oh, you've met them, have you!" said Peter joyfully; "that's why you weren't surprised at finding me here. Take a drop!" He took the small flask from his pocket and held it out. "I'm sorry there's so little, but a drop will keep the cold out."
The stranger bowed his head; but thanked and declined.
Peter raised the flask to his lips and took a small draught; then returned it to his pocket. The stranger folded his arms about his knees, and looked into the fire.
"Are you a Jew?" asked Peter, suddenly; as the firelight fell full on the stranger's face.
"Yes; I am a Jew."
"Ah," said Peter, "that's why I wasn't able to make out at first what nation you could be of; your dress, you know--" Then he stopped, and said, "Trading here, I suppose? Which country do you come from; are you a Spanish Jew?"
"I am a Jew of Palestine."
"Ah!" said Peter; "I haven't seen many from that part yet. I came out with a lot on board ship; and I've seen Barnato and Beit; but they're not very much like you. I suppose it's coming from Palestine makes the difference."
All fear of the stranger had now left Peter Halket. "Come a little nearer the fire," he said, "you must be cold, you haven't too much wraps. I'm chill in this big coat." Peter Halket pushed his gun a little further away from him; and threw another large log on the fire. "I'm sorry I haven't anything to eat to offer you; but I haven't had anything myself since last night. It's beastly sickening, being out like this with nothing to eat.
Wouldn't have thought a fellow'd feel so bad after only a day of it. Have you ever been out without grub?" said Peter cheerfully, warming his hands at the blaze.
"Forty days and nights," said the stranger.
"Forty days! Ph--e--ew!" said Peter. "You must have have had a lot to drink, or you wouldn't have stood it. I was feeling blue enough when you turned up, but I'm better now, warmer."
Peter Halket re-arranged the logs on the fire.
"In the employ of the Chartered Company, I suppose?" said Peter, looking into the fire he had made.
"No," said the stranger; "I have nothing to do with the Chartered Company."
"Oh," said Peter, "I don't wonder, then, that things aren't looking very smart with you! There's not too much cakes and ale up here for those that do belong to it, if they're not big-wigs, and none at all for those who don't. I tried it when I first came up here. I was with a prospector who was hooked on to the Company somehow, but I worked on my own account for the prospector by the day. I tell you what, it's not the men who work up here who make the money; it's the big-wigs who get the concessions!"
Peter felt exhilarated by the presence of the stranger. That one unarmed man had robbed him of all fear.
Seeing that the stranger did not take up the thread of conversation, he went on after a time: "It wasn't such a bad life, though. I only wish I was back there again. I had two huts to myself, and a couple of nigger girls. It's better fun," said Peter, after a while, "having these black women than whites. The whites you've got to support, but the niggers support you! And when you've done with them you can just get rid of them.
I'm all for the nigger gals." Peter laughed. But the stranger sat motionless with his arms about his knees.
"You got any girls?" said Peter. "Care for niggers?"
"I love all women," said the stranger, refolding his arms about his knees.
