“Yes, Mr Mark, sir. I was sitting on the watch there with my rifle across my knees, wondering how long it would be before daybreak, when all at once there was a big lion as had come up without a sound, looking straight at me.”
“Could you see him, mate?” asked Buck.
“Only his eyes.”
“Why didn’t you fire?”
“Fire? Oh, I was too much skeart. I’ll tell the truth about it. I was so frightened that I jumped up and ran, not knowing where I was going, for ever so far, and then I found by the trampling and bellowing that it was right into the way of the bullocks. Then before I knew where I was they knocked me down and the whole drove had gone over me, and when I got my senses again I crawled on here in the dark, and I suppose I swoonded away. That’s all I know. Am I very bad, doctor?”
“A man can’t be trampled on by a drove of bullocks without being a good deal hurt,” said the doctor. “We must carry him somehow to the waggons, or better still bring one of them past here. What do you think, Denham? Do you think you could inspan some of the bullocks and drag one of the waggons here?”
“Oh, yes, sir, I daresay we can get together enough for that. I’ll go back and see.”
“Yes, do, my man,” said Sir James. “I will stay with the doctor, and with your help, Bacon, we will see what we can do.”
“That’s right, sir,” said Buck Denham. “Perhaps you two young gents wouldn’t mind coming with me?”
“I—” began Mark, and he stopped short, for the man gave him a peculiar look. “Yes, Buck, I’ll come,” he said, “and Dean will come too.”