"I believe you," answered Henry Withers.

As for William Connor, when he left Suakim, his foot was light, his
figure straight, and he sent a running fire of laughter through his
company by one or two "insinsible remarks," as Coolin called them.

Three hours' marching in the Soudan will usually draw off the froth of a
man's cheerfulness, but William Connor was as light of heart at Tofrik as
at Suakim, and he saw with pleasure two sights--the enemy in the distance
and the 15th Sikhs on their right flank, with Subadar Goordit Singh in
view.

"There's work 'ere to-day for whoever likes it on the 'op!" said Henry
Withers, of the Sick Horse Depot, as he dragged his load of mimosa to the
zeriba; for he had got leave to come on with his regiment.

"You'll find it 'otter still when the vedettes and Cossack Posts come
leadin' in the Osnum Digners. If there ain't hoscillations on that
rectangle, strike me in the night-lights!" said Corporal Bagshot, with
his eye on the Bengalese. "Blyme, if the whole bloomin' parallogram
don't shiver," he added; "for them Osnum Digners 'as the needle, and
they're ten to one, or I'm a bloater!"

"There's Gardner guns fer the inimy an' Lushai dandies fer us," broke in
Connor, as he drove a stake in the ground, wet without and dry within--"
an' Gardner guns are divils on the randan. Whin they get to work it's
like a self-actin' abbatoir."

"I 'opes ye like it, Connor. Bloomin' picnic for you when the Osnum
Digners eat sand. What ho!"