“Guilty, my lord. Come along; jump up. We will have something or another to take back for a roast.”
Dyke sprang upon his horse, the dog gave a joyful bark, and they cantered off, Dyke placing his rifle on his rein hand, while he rearranged the tusks in his pocket, to keep them from rattling.
“Which way are we going?” he said.
“Let’s try west; we may perhaps see ostriches.”
“Oh, don’t talk about them,” cried Dyke; “I do get so tired of the wretches. I say, that young cock number two showed fight at me this morning, and kicked. He just missed my leg.”
“What? Oh, you must be careful, old chap. I can’t afford to have your leg broken. But, I say, I had a look at the stores this morning before we started.”
“I saw you, and wondered what you were doing.”
“The mealie bag is nearly empty. One of us will have to take the wagon across to old Morgenstein’s and buy stores.”
“Why not both go? It would make a change.”
“I’ll tell you, little un. When we got back, half the birds would be dead, and the other half all over the veldt.”