Presently Adamson came into the tent. He was the Scotch doctor who had already been Alec's companion on two of his expeditions; and there was a firm friendship between them. He was an Edinburgh man, with a slow drawl and a pawky humour, a great big fellow, far and away the largest of any of the whites; and his movements were no less deliberate than his conversation.
'Hulloa, there,' he called out, as he came in.
Walker started to his feet as if he were shot and instinctively seized his gun.
'All right!' laughed the doctor, putting up his hand. 'Don't shoot. It's only me.'
Walker put down the gun and looked at the doctor with a blank face.
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 æsthetic sights I know.'
'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.