He jumped up angrily, and as soon as he saw that we were laughing at him, turned his back, and kicked the sand at us like a pawing horse; but Ike gave the whip a flick at him, and told him to put the sacks in the cart.
“No one won’t touch them. Come along, old horse,” he cried; and, leading the way, the horse followed us with the reins tucked in its pad, and we waded through the sand in which Juno rolled and tried to burrow till we were out once more in the hard road, where the dog had to be whistled for, consequent upon her having started a rabbit.
We found her at last, trying to get into a hole that would have been a tight fit for a terrier, and she came reluctantly away.
The most delicious breakfast I ever tasted was ready at the little inn; but Ike saw to his horse first, and did not sit down till it was enjoying its corn, after a good rub down with a wisp of straw. Then the way in which we made bread and bacon disappear was terrible, for the journey had given us a famous appetite.
Shock would not join us, preferring the society of the horse in the stable, but he did not fare badly. I saw to that.
At last after a final look at the horse, who was to rest till evening, we walked back to the sand-pit, climbing higher and higher into the sweet fresh air, till we were once more by the cart, when Ike laid one hand upon the wheel and raised the other.
“Look here, lads,” he said; “that horse must have eight hours’ rest ’fore tackling her load, and a stop on the way home, so let’s load up at once with the best coarse white—we can do it in half an hour or so—then you two can go rabbiting or bird-nesting, or what you like, while I have a pipe and a sleep in the sand till it’s time to get something to eat and fetch the horse and go.”
“Where’s a shovel?” I cried; and Shock jumped into the cart for another.
“Steady, lads, steady,” said Ike; “plenty of time. Only best coarse white, you know. Wait till I’ve propped the sharps and got her so as she can’t tilt uppards. That’s your sort. She’s all right now. We don’t want no more berryin’s, Mars Grant, do we? Now, then, only the best white, mind. Load away.”
He set the example, just where the beautiful white sand seemed to have trickled, down from the cliff till it formed a softly rounded slope, and attacking this vigorously we were not long before Ike cried: