There seemed to be nothing else for it then but to mount and ride for their lives, irrespective of the darkness, and trust to their good fortune to bring them safe away.
“When I give the word ‘Mount!’ leap on your horses, and dash off,” said Mr Rogers at last, for the mutterings of the lions were growing nearer and nearer.
“And how about you, father?” asked Dick.
“I shall be close behind you, my boy.”
“And Chicory?” said Jack.
“I shall cut the ostrich loose, and Chicory will jump up behind me, and hold on as best he can.”
“Let him come behind me, father,” said Dick.
“No, behind me,” cried Jack.
“Silence!” exclaimed Mr Rogers. “There is no time for argument. Be ready. We’ll all throw at the lions together as they come on, and then mount and off before they recover from their confusion.”
Each stood to his horse’s head then, and held a piece of blazing wood ready—when Mr Rogers uttered a thankful sigh.