They seemed both pleased and tickled, and giggled inordinately, until the king rounded on them, scowling and drawing his fore-finger across his throat in a most significant manner.
The young Britons, as they approached his majesty, tried not to look at the awful remains of his last night's feast, but the sickening sight obtruded itself upon them in spite of all they could do.
Besides the beads, they had brought with them a four-pound tin of preserved beef.
They had expected his majesty to take a little of this, but were not a little surprised when he seized the tin and began digging out and swallowing huge lumps of it, with a guttural ejaculation of delight between each mouthful.
"Goo--goo--goo!" he exclaimed, as with about a yard of hideous tongue he finished off by licking out the tin.
"Nothing more horrible have I ever seen!" said Duncan.
"That is true," said Conal.
The king threw down the empty tin--he couldn't swallow that--smiled, nodded, and pointed towards the clouds.
"Goo--goo--goo--" he cried interrogatively.
Duncan nodded and smiled in turn, although he had wished the brute had choked himself.