"He looked much like a striped horse," said Fred, when recounting the adventure to the Doctor.
"More like a donkey than a horse," said Frank.
"The zebra is more like the donkey than the horse," replied Doctor Bronson. "It has hairs at the tip of the tail only," he continued, "and his hind legs are without warts. For these reasons, and also for his voice and his powerful kick, he has been classed with the donkey, and you will find him named in the scientific books as the Asinus zebra."
"But can the zebra be tamed, and made to work, like his long-eared cousin?" Fred inquired.
"Yes," responded the Doctor, "he can be domesticated, but not easily. He is occasionally employed as a beast of burden, but is liable to manifest the same peculiarities of waywardness and stubbornness as the mule."
"There is everything in a name," he farther remarked, "as you will find when the game you have killed is brought into camp. The Arabs and all their followers will eat the flesh of the zebra, and think it excellent; but they would not touch a bit of horse or donkey to save their lives."
"Perhaps they are not alone in their prejudice," replied one of the boys. "I am impatient to have a taste of our prizes, but should hesitate for some time to dine off a donkey or a horse."
The Doctor smiled as he nodded approval of the sentiment of the youth, and the conversation changed to some other topic.
The camp was made in a little valley, close to a native village. While they were pitching the tents there was an alarm of "Snake! snake!" and the Doctor seized his shot-gun to make an end of the unwelcome visitor. The man who had shouted pointed in the direction of the village, and our friends hastened there as fast as they could go.