Dinny in “Throuble” again.
“An’ if there was one there was over a thousand of thim, sor,” cried Dinny, a day or two later, when he had been out with Peter to bring back a strayed ox. “Ye niver see such savage little men in yer loife, sor. They came at us shouting bad language, and calling us all the blayguards they could lay their tongues to; and then one avil-looking owld reprobate ups wid a shtone and throws it at me. That was jist what the others wanted—a bad patthern, sor—and they began shying shtones as hard as they could, till Pater and me was obliged to re-threat.”
“And you ran away, Dinny?” said Dick; “you let the baboons drive you back?”
“The which, sor?”
“The baboons, Dinny; the apes.”
“Ah, ye can call ’em by that name, Masther Dick, if ye loike; I calls ’em little stumpy men, and as ugly as anything I iver see.”
“Well, we shall have to go and pepper them,” said Jack. “Let’s go and tell father, Dick.”
“Shure, ye may pepper and salt ’em too, Masther Jack,” said Dinny, grinning, “but ye’ll niver make anything of ’em but the toughest mate ye iver saw in yer loives.”
“Ah, well, Dinny, we’ll see,” said Jack; and the two boys went and told Mr Rogers of Dinny and Peter having been attacked by a troop of baboons, that were close up to the camp amongst the rocks.
“How much of it is exaggeration?” said Mr Rogers, who was busy filling out some choice bird-skins, the bright plumed coverings of some of the natural history treasures he had secured.