There was no expression on
his face of lively interest or pleasure, just an intent, dogged
persistence; the strong, firm chin set as though he were colt-breaking.
Gradually, as I watched him that night, the truth dawned on me: the man
was trying to teach himself to read. The "Cardinal's Snuff-box"! and the
only clue to the mystery, a fair knowledge of the alphabet learned away
in a childish past. In truth, it takes a deal to "beat the Scots," or,
what is even better, to make them feel that they are beaten.
As I watched, full of admiration, for the proud, strong character of the
man, he looked up suddenly, and, in a flash, knew that I knew. Flushing
hotly, he rose, and "thought he would turn in "; and Dan, who had been
discussing education most of the evening, decided to "bottle off a bit of
sleep too for next day's use," and opened up his swag.
"There's one thing about not being too good at the reading trick," he
said, surveying his permanent property: "a chap doesn't need to carry
books round with him to put in the spare time."
"Exactly," the Maluka laughed. He was Iying on his back, with an open
book face downwards on his chest, looking up at the stars.
