I preferred it in its worn and scratched condition.
To return: the sound of the shot, like that of John Peel's horn, aroused Hans from his sleep.

He thrust his head between my legs and saw Komba fall.
"Oh! beautiful, Baas, beautiful!" he said faintly.

"I am sure that the ghost of your reverend father cannot kill his enemies more nicely down there among the Fires.

Beautiful!" and the silly old fellow fell to kissing my boots, or what remained of them, after which I gave him the last of the brandy.
This quite brought him to himself again, especially when he was free from that filthy skin and had washed his head and hands.
The effect of the death of Komba upon the Pongos was very strange.

All the other canoes clustered round that in which he lay.