o be had, and rhino, particularly the
Keitloa variety with the long posterior horn, and a bad habit of charging
the man behind the 600 bore...."

Mr. Mayor's capacious white waistcoat was agitated by a subterranean
chuckle. His double chin shook merrily. "A side shot through the
head--solid bullet--is the best cure for that, Colonel. But you had to
wait in the high swamp-grass and keep the wind of him, and make sure of
your aim."

"Quite so. This man, from the shelter of a rock, waited to make sure of
his aim. The rhino was feeding tsetse as he dozed in the high swamp-grass.
His biggest horn showed, and a bit of his shiny black skin. One forward
lunge of the brute's head--and the hunter could get that side-shot. For
that he waited, patience being, as we know, a virtue to be cultivated by
the successful stalker of big game----"

The Mayor, boiled prawn-pink to the receding boundary-line of his upright
white hair, coughed awkwardly.

"The man waited two hours. Then the unclad and obese native lady, carrying
a long pointed grass-basket on her back, who had squatted down in the high
grass to smoke a pipe and administer maternal refreshment to a shiny black
piccannin of three or four----!"

The Mayor, purple now, burst out:

"Got up and went on! And, if these boys of yours get wind of that story, I
shall be roasted within an inch of my life. Whoever told you? For the love
of Heaven, don't give me away!"

The keen eyes, were dancing now--the big fish had fairly got the gaff.

"I promise, Mr. Mayor, upon the understanding that you don't give away my
man.... It's a compact? Thanks tremendously! And here comes the Manager
to be congratulated upon the haunch. I never tasted better venison, Mr.
Nixey, though, as you say, this is rather far North for koodoo. And the
quail were beyond praise. Waiter, a glass for Mr. Nixey.... Port--and
we're going to ask you to join us in drinking a toast...."

The beautiful, flushed boy rose solemnly, glass in hand. About the long
board, adorned with a fine epergne full of roses, Cape jessamine and
purple bougainvillea, spread with Nixey's best plate and linen, crystal,
and dishes of Staffordshire china piled with golden mandarins, and
loquats, the fruit of October; there was a great uprising of those
phlegmatic, self-contained Britons. Straight as the flames of unblown
torches, they burned about the table. And with a simultaneous movement all
those eyes of varied colours turned to the le