The warden had spotted them. Mouth open in a predatory snarl which showed a metal tooth which it was rumoured actually grew there, she advanced towards them, her note-book held before her like a buckler, her pencil at the high port. The men turned and looked at her. That was all. Just looked.
The warden had spotted them. Mouth open in a predatory snarl which showed a metal tooth which it was rumoured actually grew there, she advanced towards them, her note-book held before her like a buckler, her pencil at the high port. The men turned and looked at her. That was all. Just looked.
'Place your rifle at the high port! That means above your head Mitchell!' James lifted the weapon and held over his head as ordered.
Here he ran out of words, and drew himself up, beard at the high port, shaking his great head while he clasped my hand, and I meditated on the astonishing ease with which strong men of Victorian vintage could be buffaloed into incoherent embarrassment by the mere mention of feminine frailty.
No sooner had the shot been fired than they took off at the high port, racing hell bent for leather right in our direction.