“Mind, sir! Take care!” shouted Yussuf.
“What’s the good of telling a man to take care when he is down?” cried Mr Burne angrily; and he tried to urge his horse forward, but it refused to stir, while Lawrence’s had behaved in precisely the same manner, and stood shivering and snorting.
“Your gun, sir, quickly!” exclaimed Yussuf.
“What is it? Robbers?” cried Mr Burne excitedly as he handed the guide his double-barrelled fowling-piece.
“No, sir; one of the evil beasts which haunt these valleys and slopes. Is the gun loaded, sir?”
“Loaded? No, man. Do you suppose I want to shoot somebody?”
“Quick, sir! The charges!” whispered Yussuf; and when, after much fumbling, Mr Burne had forced his hand into his cartridge-bag, Yussuf was closing the breech of the gun, having loaded it with a couple of cartridges handed by Lawrence, who had rapidly dismounted and drawn his sword.
It was evident that Mr Preston was stunned by the fall, for he lay motionless on one side of the ravine among the stones.
“No, no, stop!” cried Yussuf as Lawrence was making his way towards the professor.
The lad involuntarily obeyed, and waited breathless to see what would follow, as Yussuf advanced cautiously, gun in hand, his dark eyes rolling from side to side in search of the danger.