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"Ye dogs," he said, addressing the bearers, as soon as he had
sufficiently recovered to speak, "ye left me, your father, to drown.
Had it not been for this stranger, my son the Baboon, assuredly I should
have drowned. Well, I will remember it," and he fixed them with his
gleaming though slightly watery eye, in a way I saw that they did not
like, though they tried to appear sulkily indifferent.
"As for thee, my son," the old man went on, turning towards me and
grasping my hand, "rest assured that I am thy friend through good and
evil. Thou hast saved my life: perchance a day may come when I shall
save thine."
After that we cleaned ourselves as best we could, fished out the litter,
and went on, _minus_ the man who had been drowned. I do not know if
it was owing to his being an unpopular character, or from native
indifference and selfishness of temperament, but I am bound to say that
nobody seemed to grieve much over his sudden and final disappearance,
unless, perhaps, it was the men who had to do his share of the work.


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