“Yohi,” said the black simply. “Baal budgery stop along. All go bong.”
“My good brave fellow,” cried the captain, seizing the black’s hand in a true English grip.
“Wow! wow! yow!” yelled Shanter, struggling to get free, and then blowing his fingers. “Marmi hurt mine. Burn hands, burn all down front, put out fire.”
“Tam, I shall never forgive myself,” cried the captain.
“Forgib mine,” cried the black eagerly; “forgib plenty soff damper—forgib mine horse fellow to ride?”
“Yes, yes, anything,” cried the captain, “and never doubt you again.”
“Yohi,” cried Shanter. “Where big white Mary? Mine want damper.”
He hurried off to where the ladies were seated, trying to recover their calmness after the terrible shock to which they had been exposed, while the captain turned to the leaders of the rescue party.
“And the black came to you for help?”
“Yes,” said Dr Freeston. “He came galloping up with a drove of horses, I don’t know how many days ago, for it has been like an excited dream ever since. I ran to Henley, and we got ten stout fellows together, and rode on as fast as we could, but I’m afraid that we have punished your horses terribly as well as our own.”