Gyp and the black were wonderfully excited, bounding about in front of us, and even Jack Penny stepped out with a less uncertain stride.
Higher we climbed and higher, and at every pause that we made for breath the beauty of the great country was more impressed upon me.
“What a pity!” exclaimed the doctor, as we halted at last upon a rugged corner of the way we were clambering, with the glistening summit far above our heads, while at our feet the wild country looked like some lovely green garden.
“What is a pity?” I said wonderingly, for the scene, tired and hot as I was, seemed lovely.
“That such a glorious country should be almost without inhabitant, when thousands of our good true Englishmen are without a scrap of land to call their own.”
“Hey, hi!” cried Jack Penny excitedly. “Look out! There’s something wrong.”
Jimmy and the dog had, as usual, been on ahead; but only to come racing back, the former’s face full of excitement, while the dog seemed almost as eager as the black.
“Jimmy find um mans, find. Quiet, Gyp; no make noise.”
“Find? My father?” I cried, with a curious choking sensation in my throat.
“No; no findum fader,” whispered Jimmy. “Get um gun. Findum black fellow round a corner.”