208 DAYS AND NIGHTS BY THE DESERT. 



what do you suppose, gentle reader, they were 

 doing ? Firing the nests of the poor little weaver 

 birds, and collecting the scorched, half-drowned 

 victims as a bonne bouche on which to gratify their 

 beastly appetites. Flesh and blood could not stand 

 such a scene of barbarity as this long, so I ran 

 "a-muck" amongst them, regardless of water and 

 other impediments ; but the black scoundrels were 

 too quick for me, and thus all my energy and self- 

 sacrifice were thrown away. 



On returning to the tent, no light gleamed 

 through the canvas, but fearful sounds were heard, 

 such as, " I'll whip as much dog out of you as will 

 make a full pack of hounds," then quickly followed 

 by, "I'll be a perfect epidemic to you ; " and winding 

 up with. " I'll make you (crash), make you (crash) 

 so ugly that the flies won't bite you." 



In a minute I comprehended the situation ; the 

 bosom friends had quarrelled over politics and 

 cango, and the American-Scotchman was giving 

 the American- Irishman a regular drubbing. 



As I did not wish a repetition of that painful 

 affair of "the Kilkenny cats" to take place in my 

 camp, particularly as one of the combatants was a 

 Scotchman, and therefore practically unacquainted 

 with how the game was played, I resolved to adopt 

 a plan that once I knew to be successful under 

 similar circumstances, viz. kick out the tent-pegs 

 and let go the storm ropes of the tent. There is 



