Their antics were wonderful. First they rushed off as hard as they could tear, as if going straight back home to Mr Rogers’ farm; the next minute they were back, as if they had forgotten to kill Rough’un first, for they charged down upon him, rolling him over and over, biting, worrying, and tumbling upon him in the exuberance of their delight; while Rough’un retaliated by biting again, and getting such a good grip with his teeth on Pompey’s tail that this sturdy fellow dragged him for yards before Rough’un let go.
Altogether, for a few minutes there seemed to be what Dick called a dog-storm, after which they all crouched down, with open mouths, starting eyes, and quivering tongue, staring at the preparations going on, and ready to be off.
“Good old dogs! Old Pomp! old Caesar! What old Cras! Hi, Rough’un!” cried Jack, caressing all the dogs in turn, and patting their heads, with the effect of making them seize and pretend to worry him, seizing his legs, jumping up, and showing their delight in a dozen ways.
Then the ammunition had to be obtained, satchels stored with provisions, Coffee and Chicory carrying a supply for their own and their father’s use; and when the grim-looking old warrior held up a warning finger at them and said they were not to eat the provisions, they brought a smile to his lips by running off together and pretending to devour the contents of the bag.
At last all was ready, and after a few words of warning to Dinny and the others to be watchful, the little party started, Mr Rogers referring to a small compass he carried in his pocket, and taking the bearings of the two mountains, so as to be sure of their return.
For though the General was with them there was always the possibility of being separated; and missing the way back in the great African wilds may mean missing one’s life.
There was plenty to see. Flowers grew in abundance in the rich moist places; fleshy plants abounded in the sterile rocky parts; and in every shady niche the ferns were glorious. The trees alone were enough to satisfy any one with a love of beauty. Great candelabra-shaped euphorbias, with wondrous thorns and lovely scarlet blossoms; huge forest-trees that seemed to have lost their own individuality in the wreathing clusters of creeping flowering plants they bore. Everything was beautiful; and as they walked on in the glowing sunshine, they seemed to have come to one of the most glorious spots of earth.
They had not proceeded far beside one of the little rivers that came bubbling down from the mountain they were approaching before Rough’un began to bark.
Click, click, went Dick’s rifle.
“Look, father, look! a crocodile!” cried Jack. “I wanted to see a crocodile.”