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DIAMOND
have been overlooked. You'd be surprised what they find sometimes."
Mr.
Bishop had started on a new batch of gravel. "You might bring me luck,"
he said jocosely, "a newcomer like you. I could use a good find."
Mr.
Van der Westhuizen remarked that it wasn't like the good old days. Mr.
Bishop said, "Ah well, it wasn't always so easy then either."
Straightening up, he went on, "I've been at this the best part of my
life. Stopped once in a while—altogether, I've stopped digging three
times, for good each time. Once I really did stay out of it for a long
time. I brought up the children in Durban so as to be well away from
all this. I wasn't going to let them waste their lives like the old man
if I could help it. And I'm glad to say not one of them has followed my
example. But as soon as they were grown up and settled in life
—why----" He made a gesture to show what he meant: there
he was, back at it again. "Old digger, old fool, you know," he said cheerfully. Actually, he didn't seem to me to be doing too badly. He had a lot of equipment, and six boys working for him, and
in the background I noticed a nice-looking car. Mr. Bishop wasn't
poverty-stricken, though I could appreciate the fact that it was an
uncertain kind of existence. I asked him if he lived at Nooitgedacht.
"Not
any longer," he said. "I live in Kimberley. I used to stay out here
except for weekends, but my wife's nervous about being alone in the
house nowadays. There've been a few burglaries at Kimberley. So I go
home every night. It means getting up pretty early in the morning,
before five, but I'm used to it."
