“To be sure; so he has! Afraid we should steal them, perhaps, and be off before he woke! I say, did you notice how he examined ours?”
“Yes; I fancied he had noticed that they were Mausers.”
“Oh no. They were fresh to him. Well, I’m going to take care that he doesn’t help himself to them. I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I’m going to lie down on one side of that bed just as I am, bandolier and all, and I vote we lay the rifles between us.”
“I shall do the same,” said West. “What do you say to leaving the door and window open for the sake of the fresh air? No fear of lions here?”
“I don’t know so much about that, but we should get some warning from the horses and oxen. Bah! It’s not likely. What now?”
There was a heavy thumping at the door leading into the other room, and the vrouw’s shrill voice was heard ordering them to put out the light.
“Tell her, West, that her royal commands shall be instantly obeyed by her obedient slaves.”
“Shan’t,” replied West. “That will quiet her,” and he turned out the light, putting an end to its abominable emanation of coarse petroleum, while the soft starry light of a glorious night stole in, showing the shapes of door and windows.
“Hah! That’s better!” said Ingleborough, making the rough bedstead creak as he laid himself gently down. “I hope none of these cartridges will explode. Oh, how I can sleep!”
“And so can I,” sighed West, “even dressed up like this,” after laying his rifle alongside of his companion’s, straight down the middle of the bed.