Lions were also numerous in this neighbourhood, and we constantly heard them roaring at night, but seldom saw them during our march.
Well, as I have already remarked, one day we were travelling somewhat slowly through the long grass of this country, when, feeling oppressed by the heat, as well as somewhat fatigued with my load, I called to Jack, who was in advance, to stop for a few minutes to rest.
“Most willingly,” he replied, throwing down his load, and wiping away the perspiration which stood in large drops on his brow. “I was on the point of calling a halt when you spoke.—How do you get on down there, Peterkin?”
Our friend, who had seated himself on the bale he had been carrying, and seemed to be excessively hot, looked up with a comical expression of countenance, and replied—
“Pretty well, thank’ee. How do you get on up there?”
“Oh, capitally. There’s such a nice cool breeze blowing, I’m quite sorry that I cannot send a little of it down.”
“Don’t distress yourself, my dear fellow; I’ll come up to snuff it.”
So saying, Peterkin sprang nimbly upon Jack’s shoulders, and began to gaze round him.
“I say, Peterkin,” said Jack, “why are you a very clever fellow just now?”
“Don’t know,” replied Peterkin. “I give it up at once. Always do. Never could guess a riddle in all my life.”