"Kaffir bullet through the foot some days ago.

Ought to be attended to at once.

Also you look pretty done, so don't tire yourself with the story, which I can get from Mr.Quatermain.

Come and lie down and I'll have a look at you while they are cooking breakfast." Then he guided us to a room of which the double French windows opened on to the stoep, a very pretty room with two beds in it.
Making Anscombe lie down on one of these he turned up his trouser, undid my rough bandage and examined the wound.
"Painful ?" he asked.
"Very," answered Anscombe, "right up to the thigh." After this he drew off the nether garments and made a further examination.
"Um," he said again, "I must syringe this out.

Stay still while I get some stuff." I followed him from the room, and when we were out of hearing on the stoep inquired what he thought.