Say, Otter, why does Baas Tom look so awful now that he is dead--he who was so gentle while yet he lived?
Cheat did not look awful, only uglier.

But then you killed Cheat, and the Heavens killed Baas Tom and set their own seal upon him.

And what will Baas Leonard do now that his brother is dead and the Basutos have run away?
Go on digging for the yellow iron which is so hard to find, and of which, when it is found, no man can even make a spear?
Nay, what is that to you, Otter?
What the Baas does you do--and here be the spoor of an impala buck." Otter was right.

The day was fearfully hot.

It was summer in East Africa, or rather autumn, the season of fever, thunder and rain, a time that none who valued their lives would care to spend in those latitudes searching for gold with poor food and but little shelter.