“Oh, him, sir,” replied the man. “Cap’n Lawton’s a regular gen’leman. He’d do anything to serve a fellow-countryman. I was grinning, sir, because you thought I should be too much for the pony. Well, I am a big ’un, out and outer; but I growed so. You are quite right, sir, it would be rather hard on one of the brave little beasts, and I hope that black ’un will show up again, but I’m afraid of it. That lion last night scared him, but he’d be more scared to come and face you gen’lemen again.”
Meanwhile, Mark had proposed that they should go to look at the spot where he stood to fire at his disturber. This was agreed to, and as they had to pass Dan Mann, Mark put in a word or two about hurrying on the breakfast, and told him to be sure to frizzle the bacon well.
“Ay, ay, sir!” cried the little fellow, beaming upon them; and they went on, looked at the ground by daylight, and saw no trace of footprints, only finding the spot where the unpleasant thorn bush had been crushed by Mark’s fall.
“Yes,” said the boy, giving a bit of a writhe and rubbing his back softly, “that’s where I went down, sure enough, and I believe I have got another thorn in there now. My word, how stiff my shoulder is! I shan’t be in a hurry to fire two barrels of a rifle together again. Yes, I stood just there when I fired, just as the beast had reared himself up—itself, I suppose I ought to say, for I don’t know whether it was a cock or a hen—but hallo, where are the ponies?”
“Oh, Peter and Bob have taken them down to water, I suppose,” said Dean.
“That they haven’t. There they are, over yonder.”
“Well, then, Buck Denham must have driven them over there with the bullocks to have a feed before we start.”
“Let’s ask Dan. Here, cooky, where are the ponies?”
“Dunno, sir. They were gone when I came to see to the fire. I expect Denham has taken them along with the bullocks.”
“Come on, Dean. Let’s go and see how the little fellows look.”