And when Jacky had done dancing and screaming,
"There! There! I told you I would! I told you I would! ha! ha! ha! Who's won now? Who's won now?" he sat down across Goly for his ride.
And he dug his heels in, and bobbed up and down, to pretend he was rising in stirrups, and went with his arms like he'd seen men on horse-back, and cried in a bass-voice,
"Gee up, fat beast! gee up!" and slapped with his hands.
So Goly winked one eyelid, and went for a little bit of a canter round the Pond.
Then Jacky, who wasn't much of a horseman at the best of times, sprawled on Goly's back, gasping,
"I'm having my ride! I'm having my ride. O, I say!—Isn't it j-j-just lubly?" which was quite a lie, for he hated it, because of the bumpety bump.
So he was just going to slither off when Goly shyed with a skip and a squeal, and landed plump in the Pond.
And when the waves had gone down a bit, all you could see was the tip of Goly's trunk, and the top of his back showing above water like a little black island with a shipwrecked cannibal on it, screaming for help.
But there was no help to be had: for the Boy, as soon as he could walk for laughing, tottered back to the Fort, to tell the Fellows!