18/41 His clothes were of the cut you might expect to get at Lobito Bay, he was as lean as a rake, deeply browned with the sun, and there was a lot of grey in his beard. He was fifty-six years old, and used to be taken for forty. Now he looked about his age. He spat, in the Kaffir way he had, and said he had been having hell's time. 'When I heard from old Letsitela that the white men were fighting I had a bright idea that I might get into German South West from the north. |