Well had he deserved his native name of Bwana Nyele--the master with the mane.
Tito's mane bristled with mixed feelings at the sight of one of her own kind.
Good Indian twisted a wisp of mane in his fingers, and frowned abstractedly.
He coloured, and played with the mane again, but answered—‘No, I think not.’
(springing forward angrily) And is it me you mane, young man?