Their tobacco was done, and yet he drew at the pipe, perhaps from habit.

And all the while Otter watched him.
"Baas," he said at length, "you are sick, Baas." "No," he answered, "that is, perhaps a little." "Yes, Baas, a little.

You have said nothing, but I know, I who watch.
The fever has touched you with his finger, by-and-by he will grip you with his whole hand, and then, Baas----" "And then, Otter, good night." "Yes, Baas, for you good night, and for me, what?
Baas, you think too much and you have nothing to do, that is why you grow sick.

Better that we should go and dig again." "What for, Otter?
Ant-bear holes make good graves." "Evil talk, Baas.

Rather let us go away and wait no more than that you should talk such talk, which is the beginning of death." Then there was silence for a while.
"The truth is, Otter," said Leonard presently, "we are both fools.