"Oh, nonsense," said Jack. "What business have we to go calling on them? We've never been introduced." Then, turning to me, Jack inquired if the fair one I met had requested a visit from me or my friends.
I told him what the reader already knows, and then Jack remarked:
"That settles it; if those women want us they'll send for us, or if they want us and don't send for us they'll manage to hunt around in this direction and stumble upon our camp by the merest accident, first finding out exactly where it is, so that there won't be any mistake about their accident. My idea is, that we had better stick to our business; mind our own affairs, in fact, and let them politely alone. We may run across them hunting some day, and they'll be far more likely to respect us if we hold aloof than if we go running after them."
"Oh, that's all rubbish," said Harry; "we'll ride over to their camp; that is, we'll get within half a mile or so of it, and send along the most intelligent of our servants. He can go to their camp, and through their principal servant let the women know that it would give us pleasure to call on them if entirely agreeable."
"Yes," said Jack, "and thereby compel them to receive us, or appear rude in declining our call. We push ourselves forward and put them in an awkward position. We are just like the man whom you know, but don't care a straw about, who comes to you with a plausible yarn, with the object of borrowing five dollars. He forces you to do one of two things, either of which is disagreeable: part with your money—with a prospect of never seeing it again—or affront him by a refusal. I tell you flatly I will not go. Understand me, I would like to meet the ladies, for such I presume they are, but I don't want to force myself on their acquaintance."
Harry did not admit the force of Jack's argument, at least not audibly. Before committing himself he turned to me and asked my opinion. I coincided with Jack, but made a suggestion that it would do no harm for us to hunt in that direction, and possibly we might meet one or both the amazons in field or forest.
Harry and Jack assented to this view, and the discussion as to the propriety of calling upon the women was dropped.
"The one you saw must have been an accomplished huntress," Harry remarked, after a pause.
"Oh, call her a hunter," said Jack; "don't bother about that straining word 'huntress.' In sport, as in science, there's no distinction of sex. When women first began to study medicine one who obtained her degree was called 'doctress.' Now that nonsense is dropped, and she's called doctor, like any other medical practitioner. Hunting big game in South Africa is entitled to be called a science; anyhow, it requires a lot of science to succeed in it. She's a hunter just as much as you or I."
"All right," said Harry; "I won't dispute with you, especially because I think you are right; and I don't think Frank will, either."