“Is it hurt, Leather?” he said.
“Yes, sir, badly—its leg’s broken,” replied the man; and bending down, he placed his arms round the poor animal, raised it up on to his shoulder, and began to climb with difficulty out of the rift. As he reached the edge he nearly slipped back.
“Why don’t you help?” cried Nic angrily; but Brookes did not stir; and if the boy had not darted forward and got a good pull of the wool, man and sheep would have toppled backward to the bottom.
“Thank you, sir,” said the convict. “There’s no foothold, and I lost my balance. One moment. That’s it;” and the sheep was rolled off his shoulder on to the grass.
“What’s the matter?” cried the doctor, cantering up, leaping down, and throwing the reins over his horse’s head on to the grass, when the beautiful animal stood still.
“One o’ the best ewes down in that grip. I come and found it just now.”
“Yes, but you didn’t try to get it out,” said Nic.
“It warn’t in my charge,” growled Brookes.
“How was this, my man?” said the doctor. “You were set to look after them.”
“Yes, sir,” said the convict respectfully. “The sheep were all right a quarter of an hour ago.”