“Why, of course. You know you are going,” replied Dick.
“Dinny say Zulu boys not going,” cried Chicory.
“Then Dinny knows nothing about it,” said Dick, angrily. “If he don’t mind he’ll be left behind himself.”
Coffee sent his kiri spinning up in the air, Chicory followed suit, each catching the weapon again with ease; and then they both dashed off across the plain as if mad, and to the astonishment of the brothers, who took the brace of birds and walked back towards the house, to continue the preparations for the start.
For there was so much to do, packing the great long tilted waggon with necessaries, in the shape of tea, sugar, coffee, and chocolate. Barrels of mealies or Indian corn, and wheaten flour, besides. Salt too, had to be taken, and a large store of ammunition; for in addition to boxes well filled with cartridges, they took a keg or two of powder and a quantity of lead. Then there were rolls of brass wire, and a quantity of showy beads—the latter commodities to take the place of money in exchanges with the natives—salt, powder, and lead answering the same purpose.
It was a delightful task to the boys, who thoroughly enjoyed the packing, and eagerly asked what every package contained, when they had no opportunity of opening it; while Mr Rogers looked on, smiling at the interest they took.
“Here y’are, young gentlemen,” said Dinny. “The masther seems to think that you’re going to do nothing but suck sweet-stuff all the time you’re out.”
“Why, what’s that, Dinny?” cried Dick, who had just brought out a heavy box.
“Sure, it’s sugar-shticks and candy,” said Dinny; and he went off to fetch something else.
“Why, so it is, Dick,” said Jack. “I say, father, are we to pack this sweet-stuff in the waggon? We don’t want it.”