'Slay what, you old bloodhound?' I asked.
This rather puzzled him, but at length he answered—
'The other shadows.'
'So thou wouldst continue thy murdering even after death?' I said.
'I murder not,' he answered hotly; 'I kill in fair fight. Man is born to kill. He who kills not when his blood is hot is a woman, and no man. The people who kill not are slaves. I say I kill in fair fight; and when I am "in the shadow", as you white men say, I hope to go on killing in fair fight. May my shadow be accursed and chilled to the bone for ever if it should fall to murdering like a bushman with his poisoned arrows!' And he stalked away with much dignity, and left me laughing.
Just then the spies whom our host had sent out in the morning to find out if there were any traces of our Masai friends ab
