"Him fall down, fall down, fall down," repeated the guide.
Chunky, frightened at the result of his prank, had quickly scrambled into his own saddle and drawn back from the scene of his late exploit.
Professor Zepplin did not understand how it had happened.
"I'm to blame, sir," announced Chunky, plucking up courage and riding up beside the Professor. "I hit him with a stick and he ran away."
In spite of the disaster that had come upon them, the boys could not but laugh at the boy's rueful countenance. Nor did the Professor find it in his heart to be harsh.
"You deserve to be punished, sir, but somehow when I look at you my anger vanishes instantly. The next question is, how are we going to get the beast up here? What do you say, guide?"
"Him dead."
"What's that?"
"Pack pony, him gone Happy Hunting Ground."
"You don't mean he has been killed?"