man more common interests than the cultured guests of Bwana
Where'er he struck, the victor. Now his sword
Blunted with gore congealed no more could wound,
But brake the stricken limb; while every hand
Flung every quivering dart at him alone;
Nor missed their aim, for rang against his shield
Dart after dart unerring, and his helm
In broken fragments pressed upon his brow;
His vital parts were safeguarded by spears
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- might have noticed the reduced numbers of his following.
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- attention, but in my box nights or mornings, if by any
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- that I felt a little unfair to her. As I look back on it
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