I said, “You had better try it.”
He said he had a pain in his arm: so we rode on a little further.
By-and-bye, the Syce (the Burma policeman) summoned up courage and said he thought he could shoot.
I said, “Very good. There’s a crow over there: you may shoot it.”
He was a long time getting ready, for he felt it was a dangerous thing to do, and he turned very white. Then he fired, but he did not hit. Evidently, the gun was faulty.
Then we thought we would come home. On the way back, we saw a man on a young horse. He kept jumping him about the road, first one side then the other. The Armenian turned on him in anger and told him he was a woman.
The young man seemed indignantly surprised, and stoutly affirmed that he was not a woman.
The Armenian rode up to him, caught him by the coat and shouted, “You are a woman.”
He shouted back, “I am not a woman.”