"Huh!" Zack remarked; "Mister Bim didn't aim to go huntin'; he's jes' bound to keep busy doing' sump'n'."
Which was the truth concerning Bimbashi McDonald. Some thirty odd years ago a Highland family consultation had christened this wee braw laddie "Charles Malcolm Dermid Arthur," his sire being John McDonald, Laird of Lenoir. British officers knew him as "The Captain McDonald," a name once shouted by London crowds who had gone wild with rejoicing over the relief of Mafeking. On the Anglo-Egyptian rolls he figured as "El Bimbashi McDonald"—which the native soldiers reduced to "El Bimb." So Old Reliable persistently called him "Mister Bim," and McDonald stood for it.
As Mister Bim strode rapidly towards the quarters, Colonel Spottiswoode appeared, and called from the porch, "What luck, McDonald?"
"Shot two hippos. Both sunk. But they'll rise and float in a couple of days." Thereupon Mr. Bim opened the screen door and disappeared within to dress for dinner.
All of which activities old Zack viewed with more or less disgust, and reverted promptly to a subject upon which he had never ceased his grumbling. "Dar he go! Dar he go! Warn't dat jes like him, to put de whole 'sponsibility on me, and den come meddlin' wid my niggers hisse'f.
