“Certainly not, your excellency,” replied the guide gravely.
“You are laughing at me, sir. You know what I mean. I am bitten by one of those horrible vipers, am I not?”
The professor had leaped out of the little hole he had laboriously dug, and run to his companion’s side in an agony of fear.
“Your excellency has been bitten by one of these,” said the guide quietly, and he pointed to some large ants which were running all over the stones.
“Are—are you sure?” cried Mr Burne.
“Sure, excellency? If it had been a viper you would have felt dangerous symptoms.”
“Why, confound it, sir,” cried Mr Burne, rubbing his leg which he had laid bare, “that’s exactly what I do feel—dangerous symptoms.”
“What? What do you feel?” cried the professor excitedly.
“As if someone had bored a hole in my leg, and were squirting melted lead into all my veins—right up my leg, sir. It’s maddening! It’s horrible! It’s worse than—worse than—there, I was going to say gout, Lawrence, but I’ll say it’s worse than being caned. Now, Yussuf, what do you say to that, sir, eh?”
“Ants, your excellency. They bite very sharply, and leave quite a poison in the wound.”