I gave him all the money in my possession, Rs.9.8.5. – nine rupees, eight annas, and five pie – for I always keep small change as bakshish when I am in camp.
He was but shabbily apparelled in faded jacket and patched trowsers; a rag of a black handkerchief investing his neck.
Unable to turn his back on the fanged danger and go on, the bull would be driven into paroxysms of rage.
They walked single file.
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