“There—it’s all good going now, sir: a bit downwards and then up hill.”
The old man strode on, leading his companion up and down for a while and then beginning a steady ascent.
“This is the bit as the sheep made going to and from the folds. ’Nother five minutes and we shall be atop o’ the side o’ the gully. You come along a bit higher up. There we are,” he said, at last. “Now look straight ahead and tell me what you see.”
“A light swinging to and fro, and up and down.”
“That’s it, sir; and that light’s the master’s waggon lantern. Know why it dances about like that?”
“Somebody seems to be swinging it.”
“Yes,” said the old man with a chuckle; “and some, body’s that big bullock with the white spot on his for’d. Know how he carries the lantern?”
“Tied round his neck.”
“Nay; it’s been hooked on to his horn,” said the old man with a chuckle. “I showed master how to do that, and you wouldn’t think it was in a big stupid-looking hox; but it’s my belief as old Cheery likes carrying that there light, and is quite proud of it.”
“Nonsense!” said Nic, as he watched the faint star down below them on the level.