The next day Warder Hannetjie caught this old man of twelve children stealing grapes from the farm shed. They were an enormous quantity of grapes in a ten gallon tin and for this misdeed the old man spent a week in the isolation cell. In fact, Span One as a whole was in constant trouble. Warder Hannetjie seemed to have eyes at the back of his head. He uncovered the trick about the cabbages, how they were split in two with the spade and immediately covered with earth and then unearthed again and eaten with split-second timing. He found out how tobacco smoke was beaten into the ground and he found out how conversations were whispered down the wind.

For about two weeks Span One lived in acute misery. The cabbages, tobacco and conversations had been the pivot of jail life to them. Then one evening they noticed that their good, old comrade who wore the glasses was looking rather pleased with himself. He pulled out a four ounce packet of tobacco by way of explanation and the comrades fell upon it with great greed. Brille merely smiled. After all, he was the father of many children. But when the last shred had disappeared, it occurred to the comrades that they ought to be puzzled. Someone said: ‘I say, brother. We’re watched like hawks these days. Where did you get the tobacco?’

‘Hannetjie gave it to me,’ said Brille.

There was a long silence. Into it dropped a quiet bombshell.

‘I saw Hannetjie in the shed today,’ and the failing eyesight blinked rapidly. ‘I caught him in the act of stealing five bags of fertilizer and he bribed me to keep my mouth shut.’

There was another long silence.

‘Prison is an evil life,’ Brille continued, apparently discussing some irrelevant matter.

‘It makes a man contemplate all kinds of evil deeds.’

He held out his hand and closed it.

‘You know, comrades,’ he said. ‘I’ve got Hannetjie. I’ll betray him tomorrow.’

Everyone began talking at once.

‘Forget it, brother. You’ll get shot.’

Brille laughed.

‘I won’t,’ he said. ‘That is what I mean about evil. I am a father of children and I saw today that Hannetjie is just a child and stupidly truthful. I’m going to punish him severely because we need a good warder.’

The following day, with Brille as witness, Hannetjie confessed to the theft of the fertilizer and was fined a large sum of money. From then on Span One did very much as they pleased while Warden Hannetjie stood by and said nothing. But it was Brille who carried this to extremes. One day, at the close of work Warden Hannetjie said: ‘Brille, pick up my jacket and carry it back to the camp.’

‘But nothing in the regulations says I’m your servant, Hannetjie,’ Brille replied coolly.

‘I’ve told you not to call me Hannetjie. You must say Baas,’ but Warder Hannetjie’s voice lacked conviction. In turn, Brille squinted up at him.

‘I’ll tell you something about this Baas business, Hannetjie,’ he said. ‘One of these days we are going to run the country. You are going to clean my car. Now, I have a fifteen year old son and I’d die of shame if you had to tell him that I ever called you Baas.’

Warder Hannetjie went red in the face and picked up his coat.

On another occasion Brille was seen to be walking about the prison yard, openly smoking tobacco. On being taken before the prison commander he claimed to have received the tobacco from Warder Hannetjie. All throughout the tirade from his chief, Warder Hannetjie failed to defend himself but his nerve broke completely. He called Brille to one side.

‘Brille,’ he said. ‘This thing between you and me must end. You may not know it but I have a wife and children and you’re driving me to suicide.’

‘Why don’t you like your own medicine, Hannetjie?’ Brille asked quietly.

‘I can give you anything you want,’ Warder Hannetjie said in desperation.

‘It’s not only me but the whole of Span One,’ said Brille cunningly. ‘The whole of Span One wants something from you.’

Warder Hannetjie brightened with relief.

‘I think I can manage if it’s tobacco you want,’ he said.

Brille looked at him, for the first time struck with pity, and guilt. He wondered if he had carried the whole business too far. The man was really a child.

‘It’s not tobacco we want, but you,’ he said. ‘We want you on our side. We want a good warder because without a good warder we won’t be able to manage the long stretch ahead.’

Warder Hannetjie interpreted this request in his own fashion and his interpretation of what was good and human often left the prisoners of Span One speechless with surprise. He had a way of slipping off his revolver and picking up a spade and digging alongside Span One. He had a way of producing unheard of luxuries like boiled eggs from his farm nearby and things like cigarettes, and Span One responded nobly and got the reputation of being the best work span in the camp. And it wasn’t only take from their side. They were awfully good at stealing certain commodities like fertilizer which were needed on the farm of Warder Hannetjie.