For two days Peter still ran about on all fours, much to Tom's annoyance. On the third day the force of example began to tell, and he attempted to walk after the manner of the other human beings he saw about him. He had so long shambled along like a baboon on his hands and feet, that his attempts at walking upright were not at first completely successful. Still he persevered, and was occasionally rewarded by Tom with bits of sugar or a piece of bread and jam. It was a matter of some vexation to Tom that, as they strolled around the camp at outspan places, Peter still chose to avail himself of the strange veldt fare to which he had been accustomed. He would pull up and devour certain roots and bulbs. Once he caught and ate a small lizard, rejecting only the head. And he would eat spiders, caterpillars, and even scorpions--after he had carefully and most deftly torn away the sting--and other unpleasant trifles. Tom's annoyance at these habits was extreme.
"Here I'm feeding him on Christian fare three times a day," he would say, "and the little beast must go and make me sick by devouring all these filthy things which he picks up in the veldt."
"My dear Tom," replied Guy chaffingly, "the poor beggar must have his dessert! Even we Christians enjoy nuts, ginger, raisins, wine, and other things, after dinner, when we're living in a state of complete civilization. And, after all, what's the difference between poor Peter wolfing down a lizard, or a caterpillar, or a chrysalis, while we white folk delight in oysters, and periwinkles and whelks, lobsters and prawns, which are nothing but marine insects; frogs, eels, spawn (I'm thinking of cod's roe), the livers and lights of various beasts--I mean what we call 'fry'--kidneys, tripe, and other things of that sort. The French eat snails. The whole thing is only a matter of individual taste and environment, as scientific folk call it."
"That's all very fine, Guy," retorted Tom, "but we ought to draw the line somewhere. And Peter, now that he is becoming a respectable biped, has got to draw it at lizards and scorpions and caterpillars."
After the very next meal the two cousins and Peter went for a stroll through some timber just outside the camp. Peter, ranging at the end of his cord, suddenly turned aside at a tree, pulled off with two little horny fingers a piece of bark, and drawing forth a huge fat grub from its hole, devoured it instantly, with manifest gusto. Even Guy, who had just enjoyed an excellent dinner, as had Peter, was disgusted at this performance.
"Nasty little beggar!" he exclaimed angrily, jerking at Peter by his cord. "You ought to know better. Come out of it, and don't do that again!"
Peter grinned angrily, and showed his white teeth. He knew he was being scolded, and he resented it. Tom laughed heartily.
"I'm glad you're convinced at last," he said. "Now you'll agree with me that Peter needs reform, and that he must be broken off his baboon propensities."
"I'm convinced, absolutely," answered Guy, with a disgusted look still on his face. "It's enough to make one sick. I'll help you all I know to wean the little beggar of these disgusting practices.--Peter, you little beast," he added, again plucking the wild boy by the cord, "you're not to do it. Here, come and take my hand, and walk like a gentleman."
The little, wild creature, after looking intently into Guy's face, and seeing a smile of good humour replace the frown of disgust, came up, put his black paw into Guy's strong, sunburnt hand, and together the three wandered back to the wagon.