I've got the camel tied up there, and he can carry two, being fat and strong after four days' rest with plenty to eat.

This place is haunted, Baas, and that king of the devils, Jana, will be back after us presently, as soon as he has wiped the blood out of his eye." I didn't make any remark, having no taste for conversation just then, but only looked at poor Marut, who lay by me as though he was sleeping.
"Oh, Baas," said Hans, "there is no need to trouble about him, for his neck is broken and he's quite dead.

Also it is as well," he added cheerfully.

"For, as your reverend father doubtless remembered, the camel could never carry three.

Moreover, if he stops here, perhaps Jana will come back to play with him instead of following us." Poor Marut! This was his requiem as sung by Hans.
With a last glance at the unhappy man to whom I had grown attached in a way during our time of joint captivity and trial, I took the arm of the old Hottentot, or rather leant upon his shoulder, for at first I felt too weak to walk by myself, and picked my path with him through the stones and skeletons of elephants across the plateau eastwards, that is, away from the lake.