"Why couldn't the
confounded ass wait quietly for us at Durban instead of fooling off
butterfly hunting to the north of Zululand and breaking his leg or his
neck there if he has done anything of the sort?"
"Don't know, I am sure. It's hard enough to understand one's own
motives, let alone Brother John's."
Then we sat down on our stools again and stared at each other. At this
moment Hans crept into the hut and squatted down in front of us. He
might have walked in as there was a doorway, but he preferred to creep
on his hands and knees, I don't know why.
"What is it, you ugly little toad?" I asked viciously, for that was
just what he looked like; even the skin under his jaw moved like a
toad's.
"The Baas is in trouble?" remarked Hans.
"I should think he was," I answered, "and so will you be presently
when you are wriggling on the point of a Mazitu spear."
"They are broad spears that would make a big hole," remarked Hans
again, whereupon I rose to kick him out, for his ideas were, as usual,
unpleasant.
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