"Who's got my hat? Go git my hat, Side." Said glanced at the river, and shivered.
"The crock got your hat," laughed McDonald, pointing to the fragments of a once happy helmet which circled slowly round in the eddy. Old Reliable stared, then went and stood mournfully at the water's edge: "Dar now! Ain't dat a shame?"
"Plenty of crocks in there. Lucky they didn't get you," McDonald answered cheerfully.
"Sumpin' 'nother done bust my hat."
Everybody stood aside while the dripping savior of the Sultan's donkey marched back to the gunboat.
"Zack!" the Colonel greeted him; "didn't you know any better than to jump in that water? It's full of crocodiles."
"What is crocodiles, Cunnel?"
"They're like alligators—great big alligators."
"Lawd Gawd, Cunnel, dat donkey jumped in fust, an'" Old Reliable shut up when Major Lyttleton thrust his burly shoulders through the companion-way and warned him.
"Fix yourself, old man; they're coming after you. Hear that drum?"
The rapid beating of an African drum uprose from the Sultan's barge; Zack's knees knocked to gether. He edged closer to the Colonel, and began dripping in a new puddle.
