"It seems so--so--so--" "So what?
Oh, my grandmother! There isn't a more dainty feeder than a horse.

Why, he won't even drink dirty water unless he's pretty well choking with thirst.

Horse?
Why, I wouldn't refuse a well-cooked bit of the toughest old moke that ever dragged a cart." "But what about fire ?" I said.
"Oh, there's plenty of stuff of one kind and another to get a fire together.

They break up a box to start it, and then keep it going with bones and veldt fuel.

Look; they're coming in with a lot now." "I say," I cried, as a sudden thought struck me.