"Near thing that," I said.
"Near thing? By Jove, I believe you!" echoed Falkner, who had halted,
considerably out of wind and temper; the latter not improved by certain
scarcely smothered and half-averted laughs which escaped some of the
spectators. "Why I do believe the infernal sweeps are having the grin
of me," he added, scowling at them.
"We'll enter into the joke yourself, just as you would have done if it
had been some other fellow. That would have struck you as funny, eh?
and this strikes them. They don't mean anything by it."
"Oh well, I suppose not," he growled, and I felt relieved, for he was
quite capable of kicking up some silly row then and there, which would
have been unpleasant, if not worse.
"Let's go back," I suggested. "The noble savage engaged in the most
congenial occupation of his heart, that of butchery, is not seen at his
best."
"I should think not. Look at those fellows over there. Why they're
beginning on the stuff raw. Nasty beggars!"
"There are certain tit-bits they like that way, just as we do our snipe
and woodcock and teal--or say we do."
In truth the groups engaged upon each carcase were not pleasant to the
eye--although thoroughly enjoying themselves--and we left them.
"I say, Glanton, though," he went on, "I believe I came devilish near
getting badly mauled by that beastly cow. The nigger who ripped in that
assegai did so in the nick of time. I'd like to give him half-a-crown."
"Hand over then, Sewin. Here's the nigger."
"What? You?"
"Me."
"But the beast was going full bat."
"Well, a cow's a good big target even at twenty yards," I said.