It is of that damned English boy who beat me at the goose shooting, and made me quarrel with Oom [uncle] Retief, the jackanapes that Marie was so fond of.

Well, whoever you are, you can't be he, thank God." "You are mistaken, Heer Pereira," I answered.

"I am that same damned young English jackanapes, Allan Quatermain by name, who beat you at shooting.

But if you take my advice, you will thank God for something else, namely, that your life has been saved." "Who saved it ?" he asked.
"If you want to know, I did; I have been nursing you these three days." "You, Allan Quatermain! Now, that is strange, for certainly I would not have saved yours," and he laughed a little, then turned over and went to sleep.
From that time forward his recovery was rapid, and two days later we began our journey back to Marais's camp, the convalescent Pereira being carried in a litter by the four natives.

It was a task at which they grumbled a good deal, for the load was heavy over rough ground, and whenever they stumbled or shook him he cursed at them.