circumstances attending the engagement of Amshar, the guide of Mrs.
Falchion's party. Among a score of claimants, Amshar had had one
particular opponent--a personal enemy--who would not desist even when
the choice had been made. He, indeed, had been the first to solicit the
party, and was rejected because of his disagreeable looks. He had even
followed the trap from the Port of Aden. As one of the gentlemen was
remarking on the muttered anger of the disappointed Arab, Mrs. Falchion.
said: "There he is now at the gate of the garden."

His look was sullenly turned upon our party. Blackburn, the Queenslander
said, "Amshar, the other fellow is following up the game," and pointed to
the gate.

Amshar understood the gesture at least, and though he gave a toss of the
head, I noticed that his hand trembled as he handed me a cup of water,
and that he kept his eyes turned on his opponent.

"One always feels unsafe with these cut-throat races," said Colonel
Ryder, "as some of us know, who have had to deal with the nigger of South
America. They think no more of killing a man--"

"Than an Australian squatter does of dispersing a mob of aboriginals or
kangaroos," said Clovelly.

Here Mrs. Callendar spoke up briskly. "I don't know what you mean by
'dispersing.'"

"You know what a kangaroo battue is, don't you?"

"But that is killing, slaughtering kangaroos by the hundred."