"I wish we had a river nearer where we could fish," said Dyke, as he worked away at the dried meat. "Yes, it would be handy, if we could catch any fish; but we usen't to get a great many--not enough to live on--in the old days at home." "Not often," said Dyke. "I say, it is tough." "Well, yes. A well-beaten-out piece would not make a bad shoe sole, little un. But about that fishing? It would take a great many of those sticklebacks you always would fish for with a worm to make a dish." "Well, they used to bite, and that's more than your carp would, Joe. Why, you only used to catch about one a month." "But, then, look at the size. One did make a dish." "Yes, of only head and bones. Ugh! I'd rather eat biltong." Emson laughed good-humouredly. "Well," he said, "we can't go fishing without we make a hundred miles' journey, so we can't get fish. How would a lion steak eat?" "Worse than a cut out of the poor old goblin's breast. But, I say, are we to go and skin that old savage to-night?" "I'll go with Jack, and do it, if you're tired." "That you won't," cried Dyke. "But, I say, Jack's bad sick he says." "Yes, I suppose so. He generally is now, when we want him to work. We've spoiled Master Jack by feeding him too well; and if it wasn't for Tanta Sal, Master Jack would have to go upon his travels. That woman's a treasure, little un. She's a capital cook; and what a wonderful thing it is that it comes so natural to a woman, whether she's white or black, to like washing shirts. Do you know, I believe that Tanta Sal would take to starching and ironing if she had a chance. Have any more?" "No: done," said Dyke, wiping his knife carefully, and returning it to the sheath he wore in his belt. "Then let's go and have a look at the chickens. Why, the other day I felt as if I could open all the pens and say to the birds, `There, be off with you, for you're no good.'" "But now you're going to have another good try." "Yes; and we must give them greater liberty, and try to let them live in a more natural way." "And that means always hunting them and driving them back to the pens." "We shan't mind that if they all turn out healthy," said Emson. "Come along." "Wait till I call Tant," said Dyke; and he went out to the back to summon the Kaffir woman, who came in smiling, cleared away, and then proceeded to feed her lord; Duke, the dog, waiting for his turn, and not being forgotten.