“No doubt. Then, Tom, it was not an enemy, after all!”
Jacky came back with Jem, who, at sight of them alive and well, burst into extravagances. He waved his hat round his head several times and then flung it into a tree; then danced a pas seul consisting of steps not one of them known at the opera house, and chanted a song of triumph the words of which were, Ri tol de riddy iddydol, and the ditty naught; finally he shook hands with both.
“Never say die!”
“Well, that is hearty! and how thoughtful of him to come after us, and above all to bring Jacky!”
“That it was,” replied George. “Jem,” said he, with feeling, “I don't know but what you have saved two men's lives.”
“If I don't it shan't be my fault, farmer.”
George. “Oh, Jacky, I am so hungry! I have been twenty-four hours without food.”
Kalingalunga. “You stupid fellow to go widout food, always a good deal food in bush.”
George. “Is there? then for Heaven's sake go and get us some of it.”
Kalingalunga. “No need go, food here.” He stepped up to the very tree against which George was standing, showed him an excrescence on the bark, made two clean cuts with his tomahawk, pulled out a huge white worm and offered it George. George turned from it in disgust; the wild chief grinned superior and ate it himself, and smacked his lips with infinite gusto.