The fat, cheerful man recovered his wits and gave a short laugh. 'Why the dickens did you wake me up? I was dreaming--dreaming of a high-heeled boot and a neat ankle and the swirl of a white lace petticoat.' 'Were you indeed?' said the doctor, with a slow smile. 'Then it's as well I woke ye up in the middle of it before ye made a fool of yourself. I thought I'd better have a look at your arm.' 'It's one of the most aesthetic sights I know.' 'Your arm?' asked the doctor, drily. 'No,' answered Walker. 'A pretty woman crossing Piccadilly at Swan & Edgar's. You are a savage, my good doctor, and a barbarian; you don't know the care and forethought, the hours of anxious meditation, it has needed to hold up that well-made skirt with the elegant grace that enchants you.' 'I'm afraid you're a very immoral man, Walker,' answered Adamson with his long drawl, smiling. 'Under the present circumstances I have to content myself with condemning the behaviour of the pampered and idle. Just now a camp-bed in a stuffy tent, with mosquitoes buzzing all around me, has allurements greater than those of youth and beauty. And I would not sacrifice my dinner to philander with Helen of Troy herself.' 'You remind me considerably of the fox who said the grapes were sour.' Walker flung a tin plate at a rat that sat up on its hind legs and looked at him impudently. 'Nonsense. Give me a comfortable bed to sleep in, plenty to eat, tobacco to smoke; and Amaryllis may go hang.' Dr. Adamson smiled quietly. He found a certain grim humour in the contrast between the difficulties of their situation and Walker's flippant talk. 'Well, let us look at this wound of yours,' he said, getting back to his business. 'Has it been throbbing?' 'Oh, it's not worth bothering about. It'll be as right as rain to-morrow.' 'I'd better dress it all the same.' Walker took off his coat and rolled up his sleeve. The doctor removed the bandages and looked at the broad flesh wound. He put a fresh dressing on it. 'It looks as healthy as one can expect,' he murmured. 'It's odd what good recoveries men make here when you'd think that everything was against them.' 'You must be pretty well done up, aren't you?' asked Walker, as he watched the doctor neatly cut the lint. 'Just about dropping. But I've a devil of a lot more work to do before I turn in.' 'The thing that amuses me is to think that I came to Africa thinking I was going to have a rattling good time, plenty of shooting and practically nothing to do.' 'You couldn't exactly describe it as a picnic, could you?' answered the doctor. 'But I don't suppose any of us knew it would be such a tough job as it's turned out.' Walker put his disengaged hand on the doctor's arm. 'My friend, if ever I return to my native land I will never be such a crass and blithering idiot as to give way again to a spirit of adventure. I shall look out for something safe and quiet, and end my days as a wine-merchant's tout or an insurance agent.'