“It won’t hit, only frighten them,” he thought; and then he turned cold, for at the second report there was a yell, the sound of a fall, a scuffling noise, and a series of cries almost such as would be uttered by a dog, and growing more and more distant, as the boy listened, feeling convinced that he had shot Duke.
Tanta Sal was of a different opinion.
“Dat Jack,” she said, laughing softly. “Jack tief. No come kill Tant now.”
Dyke was silent for a few moments. He was thinking about what cartridges he had placed in his
gun, and remembered that they were Number 6, which he had intended for the guinea-fowl.
“Those wouldn’t kill him,” he muttered, “and he was a long way off.”
“No get mealies now,” said the woman, interrupting the boy’s musings. “Baas Dyke go bed?”
“Stop! suppose they are waiting?” whispered Dyke.
“Wait? What for?” she replied. “No. All run away. No come now.”