German, the captain’s old servant, a peculiarly crabbed man in his way, drove the cart containing the tent, provisions, and other immediate necessaries; Uncle Munday came last on horseback with his gun instead of a riding-whip, driving the cattle and spare horses, which followed the lead willingly enough, only stopping now and then to crop the rich grass.
The progress was naturally very slow, but none the less pleasant, and so long as the leader went right, and Uncle Munday took care that no stragglers were left behind, there was very little need for the other drivers to trouble about their charges; while the girls, both with their faces radiant with enjoyment, cantered about quite at home on their side-saddles, now with the captain, who played the part of scout in advance and escort guard, now behind with Uncle Jack, whose severe face relaxed whenever they came to keep him company.
Hence it was that, the incident of the morning almost forgotten, Norman left the horses by whose side he trudged, to go forward to Rifle, who was also playing carter.
“How are you getting on?” he said.
“Slowly. I want to get there. Let’s go and talk to Tim.”
Norman was ready enough, and they went on to where their cousin was seated on the shaft of one of the carts whistling, and practising fly-fishing with his whip.
“Caught any?” said Rifle.
“Eh? Oh, I see,” said the boy, laughing. “No; but I say there are some flies out here, and can’t they frighten the horses!”
“Wouldn’t you like to go right forward?” said Norman, “and see what the country’s like?”
“No: you can see from here without any trouble.”