‘He will be near them soon,’ said the Khan, shading his eyes with his hands; ‘there is a nulla yonder which will afford him cover; canst thou see? Mashalla! this is better than shooting one oneself.’
‘They have seen him!’ cried the lady, as one of the deer which had been lying down got up and gazed warily about. They will be off ere he can get within shot.’
‘Not so, by your eyes!’ cried the Khan; ‘he has crouched down. See! raise thyself a little higher; look at him crawling.’
Kasim’s progress was slow, and had he been alone he would have given up the pursuit; but he knew the Khan was observing him, perhaps Ameena. It was enough,—he crept stealthily on.
‘He will never get near them,’ said the fat cook. ‘Who is he—a village Patél—that he should shoot? Ay, now, at my city we have the real shooting; there, over the plains of Surroo Nuggur, thousands of antelopes are bounding with no one to molest them, except Nizam Ali, who goes out with the nobles and shoots a hundred sometimes in a day. I was once there, and killed—’
‘With thy knife, O Zoolfoo, and roasted it afterwards I suppose,’ said Nasur: ‘don’t tell us lies; thou knowest thou never hadst a gun in thy hand since thou wast born.’
‘That is another lie,’ retorted Zoolfoo. ‘By the beard of Moula Ali, if I was yonder I would have fired long ago: we shall have no venison for supper I see plainly enough. See how he is crawling on the ground as a frog would,—can’t he walk upright like a man?’
‘He knows well enough what he is doing, you father of owls,’ was the reply. ‘Inshalla! we shall all eat venison to-night, and thou wilt have to cook us kabobs and curries.’
‘Venison and méthee-ke-bajee make a good curry,’ mused the cook; ‘and kabobs are also good, dried in the sun and seasoned.’
‘Look! he is going to shoot,’ cried the Khan; ‘which will it be? I wager thee a new dooputta[[14]] he does not kill.’