“Ought to have been with us this morning,” said Dyke, as he called back the dog.
“Couldn’t have done better if we had had him,” said Emson, quietly rolling up his sleeves, an example followed by the boy.
“Think that one will come back again?” was the next remark.
“Not while we are here,” was Emson’s reply; and then, as the evening was drawing on, he set to work helping Jack, who was cleverly running the point and edge of his assegai through the skin from the lion’s chin to tail, and then inside each leg right down to the toes.
A busy time ensued, resulting in the heavy skin being removed uninjured, and rolled up and packed across Emson’s horse.
“You’ll have to leave the teeth till another day,” said Emson, as the stars began to peep out faintly, and they trotted homeward; but before they had left the carcass a couple of hundred yards, a snapping, snarling, and howling made Duke stop short and look inquiringly up at his masters, as much as to say:
“Are you going to let them do that?” But at a word he followed on obediently, and the noise increased.
“Won’t be much lion left by to-morrow morning, Joe,” said Dyke.
“No, boy. Africa is well scavengered, what with the jackals, birds, and flies. But we’d better get that skin well under cover somewhere when we are back.”
“Why? Think the jackals will follow, and try and drag it away?”