“Yes. But they wouldn’t be able to get at him. He fell into a part of the donga which is entirely sheltered by bush and prickly pears. What they have found is the mutton, which in the delight of your arrival I clean forgot to send someone to fetch.”
She pressed to her side the hand which lay passed through her arm, and they stood for a little, watching the great white scavengers in the distance.
“I could almost find it in me to vow never to kill another puff-adder after the service that one rendered me,” went on Wyvern. “I had a tough contract on hand, and that other fellow was big and powerful, and had a business-like sort of knife. The stone trick might not have worked out so well twice running.”
“Darling, don’t take any more of those foolish risks. Why don’t you carry a pistol?”
“Oh, it’s heavy and therefore hot. I shall have bother enough now over that wretched Kafir. There’ll be an inquest and so on. By the way, I shall have to notify your father about the affair. He’s the nearest Field-cornet.”
“That’s all right. You can come over to-morrow and tell him, then we shall see each other two days running, or rather three—for of course you must stop the night.”
“He won’t ask me. I’m out of favour, remember.”
“Won’t he? Well, if he doesn’t I will; and I think I know who’s Baas in household arrangements of that kind.”
Both laughed. “I think I do,” Wyvern said. “Now let’s go round to the stable and see to your horse. It’s not very far from counting-in time—worse luck.”
“Ah, yes. How time gallops. Now, you will be wanting to get rid of me.”