"He's mad, I think," he said to Bill, who was puffing at the pipe quite calmly; and taking no notice of the laughter. "He's mad, Bill. The hunger was too much for him."
And at that the Baker yelled till the whole camp came in sober curiosity to see a phenomenon which was curious and highly absurd, for they very rarely laughed. During generations life had been too hard for humour, and not advanced enough for sarcastic or sardonic laughter. It pleased Smith to see the girl whom the Baker believed to have taken a fancy for him, looking at the lunatic on the ground with something resembling contempt.
"Perhaps someone once hit him on the head with a waddy," said Bill. For such an incident might account for a man's acting in an absurd way.
But when the crowd dispersed, and Bill was full of as much nicotine as he could take, Smith gave the Baker a word.
"They think you are off your chump, old man, and if you keep it up a little you will choke off the girl. And as soon as we get a look at the mine, and I have a bit of a jaw with the old man, we'll try and hook it."
CHAPTER XIII.
THE FATHER OF THE TRIBE.
That evening Smith asked Big Jack if he might see his father, and have a talk with him.
"He can do nothing but talk," said Big Jack gloomily, returning to what he evidently considered a grievance. "If, when you go back to your tribe, you will take him away, I will give him to you."
This completely took the wind out of Smith, and helped him better than anything he had yet seen or heard to understand how these poor devils had reverted to absolute savagery. He recalled stories of African savages putting their elderly relatives to death, sometimes with a view to the needs of the commissariat. That the old man who talked was still alive showed that pressure had not at any rate been yet so severe as to suggest resort to such extreme measures.