SPOTTED DEER 



we lit a lamp, unrolled one of our big sheet-tents and 

 spread it over our beds, ourselves and coolies standing 

 under it to hold it up. 



The Singhalese had camped on the slab rock about 

 40 yards away, and we heard them shouting to each other 

 in the pitch darkness, but could do nothing for them as 

 the rain came down in torrents, though they gradually 

 assembled round us squatting under umbrellas, leaves, 

 empty sacks anything. I ran over in my own mind the 

 things on the table and decided the only spoilable article 

 was a cake, which reposed on an aluminium plate covered 

 by the inverted cake tin which had contained it. I shouted 

 to Garrick to bring it under the tent, and he reached out, 

 got it, as I thought, and placed it on my clothes-box by 

 my bed. There we stood in silent misery, ankle deep in 

 water and muddy earth, water trickling down our heads 

 and arms from contact with the tent, water inches deep on 

 our beds, water everywhere, and I cursing my stupidity 

 in even trusting a November night after all my years of 

 experience. After a while I wanted to lift my box on to 

 the bed out of the water and mud, and so got hold of the 

 cake to lift it first, and then " Garrick " said I, in the most 

 solemn and sepulchral tone I could command, " do you 

 know what you took off the table just now ? " 



" Yes," said he, " the cake." 



" No ! only the tin which covered it ! " was my crushing 

 retort, which I naturally expected would produce a perfect 

 explosion of language suited to the occasion. 



Nothing of the sort the unfeeling wretch laughed and 

 laughed and roared again until I was fain to follow suit, 

 and we laughed consumedly for full five minutes, which 

 did us a lot of good, but our men must have thought we 

 were mad. Then, remembering the matches, I and my 



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