"Yes, Sahib, and that is what the bonzes teach. They say that when people die they become crocodiles, or elephants, or birds, or serpents, or monkeys, or some other kind of creature."
"And that's all stuff and nonsense, Sree. You don't believe all that,
I know."
"It's what I was taught, Sahib," said the man, with a queer twinkle of the eye.
"But you don't believe it, Sree. You don't think that some one turned when he died into that old snake, or else you wouldn't have caught it to sell to my father as a specimen."
"And then skinned it and made a bait of it on a hook to catch a crocodile," said Phra.
"Not he. Look at him," cried Harry. "See how he's laughing in his sleeve."
"He isn't. Hasn't got any sleeves."
"Well, inside, then. His eyes are all of a twinkle. He doesn't believe it a bit. There, I shan't stand here any longer cuddling this gun, with nothing to shoot at."
"It is rather stupid, Hal."
"Yes. Here, jump up, Sree, and take us where we can have a shoot at something, or go and fish; I don't care which."