Why Old Baboon has that Kink in his Tail

“‘Very dry,’ ses Ou’ Wolf; ‘d’ye t’ink we’l get rain pretty soon?’ ses he.

“Ou’ Baviyàan, he scratch his back, an’ he look roun’, an’ he chew de bark off’n a piece o’ stick. ‘P’raps it rain by’n’by,’ ses he. ‘Dese yer koppies pretty hot dis mawnin’.’

“‘Well,’ ses Ou’ Wolf, now he’d cleared de groun’ polite like dat, ‘you ’members darie skellum, Ou’ Jackalse, dat never pay you yet for all dat lamb meat an’ dat kid meat you let him have, don’t you?’

“‘Don’t I,’ ses Baviyàan, puckerin’ his eyebrows down an’ makin’ sharp eyes, an’ grabbin’ a fresh twig an’ strippin’ de bark off it—rip!—wid one snatch of his teef. ‘I yust does.’

“‘Well now, look a-hyere, Nief,’ ses Ou’ Wolf. ‘I cahnt stan’ him no longer nohow. I’s yust a-gun’ to get even wid him. He done one t’ing an’ he done anoder t’ing, an’ he don’t pay me for de hin’quarters o’ de finest Eland you ever seen, an’ so I votes we yust stops all dese little die-does of his. Wat you say now if we go an’ give him such a shambokkin’ till he don’t stir out till dis time nex’ year?’

“Ou’ Baviyàan look at de little bird in de tree, an’ Ou’ Baviyàan look at de little shiny lizard on de rock. An’ he looks at Ou’ Wolf an’ he looks round agen, an’ he yumps an’ he biffs a scorpion what he sees him wriggle his tail out from under a stone. Den he say, ses he, ‘Yeh, but how’s I know you ain’t a-gun’ to streak it out o’ dat as soon’s Ou’ Jackalse prance out for us? Den where’d I be, huh?’

“‘But who’s a-gun’ to run away?’ ses Ou’ Wolf, swellin’ hisse’f out mighty big. ‘D’ye mean to say I’s a-gun’ to run away f’m a skellum like dat? Me scared o’ him? Huh!’

“Ou’ Baviyàan, he scratch hisse’f on de hip, an’ he eat what you cahnt see out’n his finger an’ t’umb. ‘Den what you want me to help you foh?’ ses he, kind o’ pucker in’ his eyes an’ glintin’ here an’ dere in Ou’ Wolf’s face.

“‘Oh, dat’s all right,’ ses Ou’ Wolf, an’ he try to t’ink so quick dat de inside his head tumble all over itself like rags in a basket upside down. ‘On’y if I go an’ do it my lone se’f, den people t’ink it’s yust fightin’, an’ dey say, “Poor Ou’ Jackalse”.