"You are thinking of making a sally?"
"Not exactly. Look at the position. If we stay, we starve; if we break out in a body, we shall be pursued and surrounded. But why shouldn't some of us slip out and try to get help?"
"I thought we had settled that. The nearest British station is too far away; to get to the nearest French one we should have to cross the Tubus' country."
"But what about the natives of the neighbourhood?"
"All who are not massacred are in a stew of fright, I expect. They wouldn't lift a hand against the Tubus."
"Not if one of us, either you or I, applied to them? The white man has a certain prestige, you know. Anyhow, I think it ought to be tried; in fact, it must be. I might revisit that old chap who sold us provisions."
"Or I might. It's my turn."
"Hang turns! I know the old chap."
"Why shouldn't I have the pleasure of his acquaintance? But, to avoid the eternal dispute, let's toss again."
"Right-o! I always win the toss. Heads!"