“I don’t care,” he muttered recklessly. “I can’t see you, but I can hear you, you beauties! Come on if you like. My monkey’s up now. Fire! I just will! It will only be once, though, and then s’elp me, I’ll let whichever of you it is have it with a straight-down dig right between the shoulders—one as will pin you into the soft earth. I’ll do for one of you at any rate, and then let them come and relieve guard. Relieve guard, indeed, when there won’t be no guard to relieve! And old Tipsy won’t have any more trouble with poor old Joe Smithers. Nay, my lad, put it down decent, as perhaps it’s for the last time. Private Joseph Smithers, 3874, and good-bye, mates and comrades, and bless the lot of you! Poor old missus! She’ll miss me, though, when she wants the water fetched, but it will only be larky Peter Pegg doing it twice as often; and she will be independent-like, for she always washes his shirt for him every week—a cheeky beggar! But somehow I always liked Peter, in spite of his larks as Mr Maine put him up to—chaffing and teasing a fellow. But he never meant no harm. You see, it seemed to make us good mates running in company like, for when the Sergeant wasn’t dropping on to him he was letting me have it, to keep his tongue sharp. Yes, Peter Pegg will miss me, for they won’t find Joe Smithers when they come; and if I desart my post, how can I help it if I am pulled under? But I won’t desart it till I am. There,” he cried, stopping suddenly in his angry soliloquy; and pulling up short, he stood ready, looking inward, forgetting the splashings of the reptiles, which were repeated from time to time. “What did I say? ’Tarn’t rounds yet, and I should have been ketched, for here’s some one coming. Out of regular time, too. One of the officers, for that spot of light’s a cigar. Well, glad to see him. Company’s good, even if you’re going to be pulled under by a croc. Wonder who it is.”
Chapter Eight.
A Strange Prisoner.
Private Smithers had not long to wait, for as the glow of the burning cigar came nearer he challenged, the customary interchange took place, and then Archie Maine took up the conversation with—
“Who’s that? You, Smithers?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I say, you have got a lonely watch here to-night. Heard any crocodiles?”
“Heerd any crocodiles, sir? Just you listen!”