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"The man is all right," Cobby obstinately repeated.
And, as arranged, the expedition duly started the next afternoon; but not till nine in the night, when it had outspanned twenty miles up in the interior, did Macray with new hunter's-swag and outfit ride in; on which Rolls and he, for the first time, looked into each other's eyes.
VI
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A QUESTION OF TEETH
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The three were eating an evening meal after the afternoon sweat and trek through leagues of timber, when Cobby remarked: "Here we are within sight nearly, and the plan of action still undetermined"—a browner Cobby, upon whom some beard had sprouted, in moleskin trousers now, and leggings above velschoenen, upon which the bivouac-tire shed beams in a dimness that was an island of dimness within the dismal Pacific of the night.
Rolls began to answer: "Well, we have the rough plan"—but paused, suddenly adding: "Another fight on!—that's the utshwala (millet-grog) working," and, springing up, he trotted off into a still dimmer dimness, where a little mob stood watching a Swahili and a Pondo duelling with two club-sticks in the midst of a bigger mob, who lolled and squatted, enjoying the day's end, and at that lip the calabash tilted, and that puffed at the hashish ("dakka") pipe, and that snub-nose sucked up snuff.