“He not fit only die,” he said softly. “He very old, very sick man, you leave him here! I see to him.”
Trent turned away in sick disgust.
“We'll be off to-morrow, Sam,” he said shortly. “I say! I'm beastly hungry. What's in that pot?”
Sam spread out the palms of his hands.
“He all right, I see him cooked,” he declared. “He two rabbits and one monkey.”
Trent took out a plate and helped himself.
“All right,” he said. “Be off now. We'll go to-morrow before these towsly-headed beauties are awake.”
Sam nodded and waddled off. Trent threw a biscuit and hit his companion on the cheek.
“Here, wake up, Monty!” he exclaimed. “Supper's come from the royal kitchen. Bring your plate and tuck in!”
Monty struggled to his feet and came meekly towards where the pot stood simmering upon the ground.