, and apply
fresh lotion every three hours," suggested Nick. "But with all possible
respect for Lion, how are we to do that? Where are the bandages, and
where the lotion? Nay, where is the hospital bed to which the patient
is to be consigned?"
"Omatoko must put up a hut, and we must stay here until Lion can go with
us," said Wilmore gruffly. "If we could wait three days for a pagan
Hottentot, we may wait as many, surely, for a Christian dog!"
"I don't think you'll get Omatoko to stay here for all the dogs that
ever were whelped," said Nick. "He's in too much of a hurry to put salt
on the tails of those Bushmen."
"He must stay, and he shall!" returned Wilmore angrily; "I won't have
the dog thrown over. We are four, and he is only one. Stay he shall, I
say."
"Gently, Frank," said the doctor. "I'm against throwing Lion over as
much as you are, but I don't see how we can stay here. The dog won't be
fit to walk--no, not a hundred yards--for this fortnight, and it would
probably kill him, if he attempted it."
"What's to be done, then?" rejoined Frank shortly.
"Do as we did with Omatoko. Make a litter and carry him to the
Hottentot kraal. It is not more than seven or eight miles, and we can
relieve one another. Luckily he is not such a weight as Omatoko. I
suppose that will satisfy you, won't it?"
"Yes, of course, Charles," said Wilmore. "It is very kind of you. I am
afraid I was rather cross, wasn't I? but you see--"
"All right, old fellow, I know you're fond of Lion; so we all are,
though perhaps not _so_ fond. Do you go and cut some of the osiers
there, Omatoko will soon make them into a basket, large enough to hold
the dog, and we'll carry it on a pole slung across our shoulders.
Meanwhile I'll dress the old fellow's wounds."
Omatoko proved to be as skilful a basket-maker as Lavie had predicted;
and the party were making preparations for a start, when the Hottentot,
who had just returned from the osier bed with a last supply of twigs,
announced that there was a herd of noble koodoos about half a mile off,
feeding on a patch of sweet grass. They were rare in that part of the
country, and the best of eating. "Suppose we kill two, three, four of
them; my people like them much. They come fetch them."
"Two, three, or four," exclaimed Frank--"who is going to do that? Why,
these koodoos, if I have been told rightly, are the shyest of all the
boks, and won't let any one come near them. We
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