Mr. Alston took his arm, and walked away with him across the market-square.
“Look here, my lad,” he said; “the woman who deserts a man in trouble, or as soon as his back is turned, is worthless. It is a sharp lesson to learn, but, as most men have cause to know, the world is full of sharp lessons and worthless women. You know that she got your letter?”
“Yes, she told my friend so.”
“Then I tell you that your Eva, or whatever her name is, is more worthless than most of them. She has been tried and found wanting. Look,” he went on, pointing to a shapely Kafir girl passing with a pot of native beer upon her head, “you had better take that Intombi to wife than such a woman as this Eva. She at any rate would stand by you in trouble, and if you fell would stop to be killed over your dead body. Come, be a man, and have done with her.”
“A shapely Kafir girl.”
“Ay, by Heaven I will!” answered Ernest.
“That’s right; and now, look here, the waggons will be at Lydenburg in a week. Let us take the post-cart tomorrow and go up. Then we can have a month’s wilderbeeste and koodoo shooting until it is safe to go into the fever country. Once you get among the big game, you won’t think any more about that woman. Women are all very well in their way, but if it comes to choosing between them and big game shooting, give me the big game.”