“Very good,” added Nick; “I have no wish to do it, either.”
“Well, then,” said Lavie, “we are agreed. We will stay quietly here until the answer comes from the Cape. Five to one our fellows have thrashed these Dutchmen as soundly as they did before, and the colony is ours again by this time; in which case Umboo will be our humble servant. If the messenger doesn’t return before the party set out to attack the Bushmen, we will go with them, if required, but only as spectators. Is that agreed?”
“Agreed, nem. con.,” said Frank. “And now, here, I suppose, comes dinner. We are not to have the honour of seats at the royal table, then!”
“No, that will be reserved for us when Umboo has learned of the defeat of the Dutchmen,” said Gilbert.
The food served up to them was better and more palatable than they had expected. It consisted chiefly of the flesh of one of the koodoos, and was partly broiled and partly sodden.
“Not bad this,” exclaimed Gilbert, as a third slice was handed to him, which he disposed of after the same fashion which prevailed in the time of Adam and Eve, viz., by the help of his fingers and teeth. “They haven’t so bad an idea of cooking after all.”
“And these figs and pomegranates are not to be despised either,” observed Frank. “They would go down well at a West End dinner!”
“But whatever are these?” cried Nick, digging his hands into a basket of what seemed to be burnt almonds, being a heap of oval substances, about the size of a filbert, and partially roasted. “Hum! a strange sort of taste, but rather nice, too. Have some, Charles, you’ll find them rather good eating.”
“Thank you, Nick,” returned Lavie, gravely, “I am not fond of insects, or I would have a few.”
“Insects!” repeated Gilbert, in a tone of mingled surprise and disgust. “You can’t mean that, to be sure!” He dropped the handful to which he had just helped himself, and looked at the doctor with mouth and eyes wide open.