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PERCEVAL GIBBON.
9
JIM.
(AN INCIDENT.)
From the Kei to Umzimkulu
We chartered to ride,
But before we reached Umtata
Jim turned in and died.
By Bashee I buried Jim.
Ah! but I was fond of him;
An' but for the niggers grinning,
I'd—yes, I'd have cried.
'Twas a weary trek through Griqualand,
And me all alone;
Three teams and a dozen niggers
To boss on my own.
And I felt a need for Jim;
It was just the job for him,
Hazin' the teams and the niggers,
Hard grit to the bone.
I lost a load at Kokstad:
An axle fell through;
I hadn't heart to tinker it,
So pushed on with two.
If I'd only had old Jim!
Axles never broke with him;
But I never could handle waggons
Like Jim used to do.
