“Look at that now,” said Dinny complacently. “Why of all the cowards I ever see—”
“I say, Dinny,” said Dick, “I wonder whether the king’s afraid of lions?”
“Shure an’ I’d go an’ ask him, Masther Dick, if I was you,” said Dinny sulkily; and the subject, a very sore one with Dinny, was dropped.
Chapter Twenty Nine.
The General is Overcome by Gin—a Trap.
A very quiet-looking black came up directly after, to say that the king had sent him to show the party where to camp: and he led the way to a pleasant little grove, where there was a pool of water, and ample grass for the cattle; and after the new arrivals were settled down—far too near the “naygurs” to satisfy Dinny’s sensitive nature, a return visit was paid to the king, who readily gave his permission for the party to hunt when and where they pleased in his dominions.
This was satisfactory, and it was determined that no time should be lost in getting amongst the large game, but not until they had had a shot or two at the large hippopotami, which were abundant in the marshes about the river.
Still they would be obliged to remain for a few days at their present camp out of civility to the king, who, they found, would be perfectly willing to accept a few donations of meat, the supply kept up by his own hunters being intermittent, so that his majesty had frequently to go without.