till quite coolly and
slowly, he charged that man.

The yell that followed could have been heard quite a long distance
through the cloaked night. And, in truth, one cannot wonder, for you may
take it from me that the jaws of a ratel fast home on the calf of your
leg, as our ratel's jaws were on that native's leg, form something to
remember in dreams.

But it was that very native who saved our ratel's life, all the same; for
his gymnastic display during the few seconds that followed was so
energetic that the pink pyjamas and a revolver, that represented the
white hunter fresh from sleep, had no chance at all of doing any damage
except to the dancing native--which they nearly did; and the dogs, once
more piling themselves on to the ratel, broke his hold, and the whole
fight rolled and raged away into the darkness and the thorn-scrub, out of
sight.

Later, one by one, those dogs came back, dead-beat most of them, with
tongues lolling and sides pumping. Some limped, and some turned away
every few yards feverishly to lick a wound. All were blood-stained, but
not a drop of it--not one drop--belonged to friend ratel. He, that
superb warrior, was at that moment trotting along, quite unconcernedly,
through the bush about a quarter of a mile away. There was blood upon
him, too--not his, the dogs'--and no other mark; and though he was pretty
sore and sick from internal bruising, his skin, his wonderful loose skin,
was whole, and unpierced by a single fang. He had, however, the decency
to go home and fling himself into a stupor-like sleep, just to prove that
he was a real, live beast of this earth, and not merely a phantom from
other worlds.

The next afternoon was closing in dull and cloudy, and there were signs
of a dark and bad night to come--just the sort of day wild hunters come
out early in. This was why the grunt sounded then that heralded the
appearance of our ratel above-ground, and he himself appeared, emerging
at his very own slow trot from his hole. For a moment he paused, looking
round, with his funny, "earless," flat head in the air, as if he
expected, or listened for, the honey-guide; but the honeyguide was half a
mile away, leading some natives--who, by the way, were endeavoring to
copy the crooning, whistling replies of a ratel--to honey.

No honey-guide? Then he must go and search for himself. And he did,
returning, in fifty minutes, for his wife, who, now much recovered--as
only a ratel can recove