The black smiled and nodded, and sent forth the piercing call again.
There was an answer from much nearer. “Oh, I wonder how many he has found!” In less than a minute the boy’s wondering ceased, for he caught sight of their tall thin follower running swiftly through the low brush, with all four ponies cantering after him, to pull up in a group as the man stopped short close to where the keeper and the two lads were waiting.
“Not hurt, Dunn?” cried Mark joyously.
“No,” said the man sadly. “Anybody killed?”
“No. Don’t cry about it,” cried Mark.
“But Peter Dance is hurt,” said Dean sharply.
“Oh,” said the man, almost piteously, and then shook his head, looking from one to the other mournfully. “Let the fire out.”
Big Buck Denham bent down to slap his thighs and burst into a roar of laughter.
“Oh, don’t laugh, Buck,” cried Mark. “Think of your poor bullocks.”
“Yes,” said Dunn, in no way discomposed by the man’s laughter; “two killed.”