As the man ceased speaking the doctor began his roll call, as he termed it: four men did not answer to their names.
“This is bad—very bad,” said the doctor, in a pained voice. “I should be loth to think that Dance neglected his duty in keeping up the fire, and rendered us exposed to this attack of lions.”
“Well, sir, it do seem rather hard to lay it on to a man who may have got it badly, but I am afraid he let that fire out, for first thing after I come, when I looked torst where it should have been all was black as black.”
“Oh, tut, tut, tut!” ejaculated Sir James.
“Then there’s that man Brown.”
“He lay down to sleep close beside me, sir. I don’t feel much fear about him.”
“And the Hottentot?”
“Well, he was lying just behind Dunn Brown, and my black close to him. They’ll turn up, sir, soon as it is daylight. I’m most skeart about Keeper Dance. You see, he’s quite new to the country, sir.—Hah–h–h!” continued the man, drawing a deep breath. “That’s better! Here’s this morning coming, and welcome as the flowers of May, as the country folks say in old England. Here, Dan, my lad, we have had a bad night of it, but we shall want some breakfast all the same. What do you say to putting the billy on to boil?”
“Ay, ay, mate!” cried the man addressed; and he made for the end of the nearest waggon to fetch a bucket and the great tin kettle, while the Illaka joined him on the instant.
“Breakfast!” said Mark, with a look of disgust. “After such a night as this?”