“Well, arn’t that enough to make a fellow laugh?” said Buck. “Only two pulled down. Might have been worse. You have seen them, then?”
“Yes; they followed the ponies. Just came by.”
“That’s all right, then. Come and help, Dunn. I want to inspan and take one of the waggons to fetch Peter Dance.”
“Ah!” said Dunn, and he shook his head. “Let the fire out.”
“Well, don’t go howling about it and get the poor fellow into trouble.”
“No?” sighed Buck’s amateur foreloper.
“No!” thundered Buck. “And there’s worse disasters at sea. Bad jobs turn out trumps sometimes, young gen’lemen. Two bullocks pulled down, and when we have got Peter Dance back to camp, gentlemen, I daresay you would like to come along of me to have a look at the dead lions. I say, Dunn, can you skin a lion?”
“Yes,” said the man, and he pulled a long knife out of its sheath and tried its edge.
“Yes, that will do. I’ll help you, mate. We will get little Dan at work to cut up the bullocks; but I’m rather scared about their skins.”
“Then why cut the poor things up?” said Mark sharply.