The old gentleman looked at Good severely, for it irritated him to be
chaffed about his stories.

"I don't know what you mean, Good. I don't see that there is any
comparison between a true story of adventure and the preposterous tales
which you invent about ibex hanging by their horns. No, it is not the
end of the story; the most exciting part is to come. But I have talked
enough for to-night; and if you go on in that way, Good, it will be some
time before I begin again."

"Sorry I spoke, I'm sure," said Good, humbly. "Let's have a split to
show that there is no ill-feeling." And they did.




V--THE MESSAGE OF MAIWA

On the following evening we once more dined together, and Quatermain,
after some pressure, was persuaded to continue his story--for Good's
remark still rankled in his breast.

"At last," he went on, "a few minutes before sunset, the task was
finished. We had laboured at it all day, stopping only once for dinner,
for it is no easy matter to hew out five such tusks as those which
now lay before me in a white and gleaming line. It was a dinner worth
eating, too, I can tell you, for we dined off the heart of the great
one-tusked bull, which was so big that the man whom I sent inside the
elephant to look for his heart was forced to remove it in two pieces.