"I told him it was God's truth and that you were a sort of escaped ivory poacher from Rawlins, Wyoming which was rather like the Lado Enclose in the old days and that you had come out here to pay reverence to me who had started you in as a boy, barefoot of course, and to try to keep your hand in for when they would let you go home and take out a new mastodon license."
"Pop, please tell me one sound thing about elephant. You know I am required to do away with them if they are behaving badly."
"Just remember your old mastodon technique," Pop said. "Try and get your first barrel in between that second ring of the tusk. On frontals the seventh wrinkle on the nose counting down from the first wrinkle on the high forehead. Extraordinary high foreheads they have. Most abrupt. If you are nervous stick it in his ear. You will find it's simply a pastime."
"Thank you," I said.
"You're most welcome. Now could you give me any new gen on the saber-toothed tiger? Keiti says you had one hundred and fifteen before those dastards picked up your license."
"You get very close," I said. "You should be able to touch the beast for best results. You then give an abrupt whistle."
"Then do you let him have it?"
"You take the words out of my mouth," I said.
"I trust they were in Kamba," he said. "Pop, please try to be a good boy. I'd rather be proud of you than read about you in the comic papers. I've never worried ever about you taking care of the Memsahib. But take care of yourself a little bit and try to be as good a boy as you can."
"You try too."