death.

Those who have lived much with nature will in some degree be familiar
with such sensations, for man and nature are ever at variance, and each
would shape the other to its ends. In the issue nature wins. Man boasts
continually of his conquests over her, her instincts, her terrors, and
her hopes. But let him escape from out his cities and the fellowship
of his kind, let him be alone with her for a while, and where is his
supremacy? He sinks back on to her breast again and is lost there as in
time to be all his labours shall be lost. The grass of the field and the
sand of the desert are more powerful than Babylon; they were before her,
they are after her; and so it is with everything physical and moral in
their degrees, for here rules a nurse whom we human children must obey
at last, however much we may defy her.

Thus brooded Leonard as he sat, his hands in his pockets and an empty
pipe between his teeth. Their tobacco was done, and yet he drew at the
pipe, perhaps from habit. And all the while Otter watched him.

"Baas," he said at length, "you are sick, Baas."

"No," he answered, "that is, perhaps a little."

"Yes, Baas, a little. You have said nothing, but I know, I who watch.
The fever has touched you with his finger, by-and-by he will grip you
with his whole hand, and then, Baas----"

"And then, Otter, good night."

"Yes, Baas, for you good night, and for me, what? Baas, you think too