“Ah, ye avil little baste,” muttered Dinny. “See if I give ye the laste taste of anything I’ve got. Ah, yes,” he said aloud, “I did get one shot at him from behind that big tree; but I cud see him best out in the open yander. Shure an’ how big is the baste, sor?” he added, as Mr Rogers ran a measuring tape along the animal from nose to tail.
“Just over eleven feet, Dinny,” said Mr Rogers; and leaving the General to hew off the great blunt horn, they returned to breakfast.
Chapter Thirty Seven.
Dick tries the Vegetable Fish-Hooks.
Directly breakfast was over they started—this time without Dinny, who seemed to be very nervous for fear he should be asked to go—to get some of the honey, Coffee and Chicory each carrying a zinc pail, and the General a small tub.
Long before they reached the patch of forest-trees the little bird came fluttering and twittering about them, having apparently forgiven their past neglect, and then went on, and flew from bush to bush, leading them straight to the big trees, perching as before upon one close by, and then silently watching the manoeuvres of the party.
The General was about to take the lead, but Coffee and Chicory uttered such a strong protest in their native tongue, that he smilingly handed his hatchet to Coffee; while Chicory collected some tolerably dry peaty growth, struck a light and set it on fire, causing a dense cloud of smoke to rise up round the tree that contained the wild honey, and stupefying and suffocating the bees that flew to and fro.
The boys grinned with delight at their task, and danced about, heaping up the smoke-producing leaves and stalks, till feeling satisfied that they might ascend, there was a bit of an altercation as to who should go, ending in Chicory giving way to his brother as he had been ill.