“I couldn’t do it, sir. I only want to lie still and die decently. Daresay the next people who come along will cover me over with a bit of sand.”
Frank laughed.
“I do call that unfeeling of you, sir,” moaned the poor fellow. “It’s heartless, that it is!”
“I can’t help it, Sam,” said Frank merrily; “the idea is so absurd.”
“What, me dying out here in the desert?”
“No, what you said about being covered over with the sand.”
“I don’t see anything absurd, sir. It’s very horrible.”
“Not a bit,” said Frank. “There wouldn’t be anything to bury.”
“What!” said Sam, rising up on one elbow and staring wildly at the speaker.
“You see, there are the vultures to begin with, and then there would be the jackals.”