"This is the Place of Soldiers.

The king's house is yonder.

Give the old jackal a start of a length of ten assegais.

If he reaches it first, he can shake hands with his friend, the king.

If not we will make him into medicine." "Yes, yes, run for it, Jackal," clamoured the others, knocking their shields with their sticks, as men do who would frighten a buck, and opening out to make a road for me.
Now while all this was going on, with some kind of sixth sense I had noted a big man whose face was shrouded by a blanket thrown over his head, who very quietly had joined these drunken rioters, and vaguely wondered who he might be.
"I will not run," I said slowly, "that I may be saved by the king.