It's a queer end to the thing we call life, isn't it, Quatermain, and hang it all! I wonder what's beyond?
Not much for me, I expect, but whatever it is could scarcely be worse than what I've gone through here below in one way and another." "There's hope for all of us," I replied as cheerfully as I could, for the man's deep depression disturbed me.
"Mayhap, Quatermain, for who knows the infinite mercy of whatever made us as we are?
My old mother used to preach of it and I remember her words now.

But in my case I expect it will stop at hope, or sleep, and if it wasn't for Inez, I'd not mind so much, for I tell you I've had enough of the world and life.

Look, there's one of them.

Take that, you black devil!" and lifting his rifle he aimed and fired at an Amahagger who appeared upon the edge of the fold of ground.

What is more he hit him, for I saw the man double up and fall backwards.
Then the game began afresh, for the cannibals (I suppose they were cannibals like their brethren) crept out of shelter, advancing on their stomachs or their hands and knees, so as to offer a smaller mark, and dragging between them a long and slender tree-trunk with which clearly they intended to batter down our wall.
Of course I blazed away at them, pretty carefully too, for I was determined that what I believed to be the last exercise of the gift of shooting that has been given to me, should prove a record.