"That he did, in the moonlight. Scared at a 'gator. Father says he heard the 'gator's great teeth snapping and thought he was booked. But lo! Jake, at that very moment Glancer struck out with both hind-legs--you know how he is shod. He smashed the 'gator's skull, and the beast turned up his yellow belly to the moon."
"Bravo!"
"Then Father mounted mighty Glancer and rode quietly home.
"Peggy and I," he continued, "have ridden along the bank to the battlefield to hold a coroner's inquest on the 'gator, but he's been hauled away by his relations. I suppose they'll make potato soup of him."
Burly Bill chuckled.
"Well, Peggy and I are off. See you in the evening, Jake. By-by!"
And away they rode, like a couple of wild Indians, followed by a huge Irish wolf-hound, as faithful a dog to his mistress--for he was Peggy's own pet--as ever dog could be.
They were going to have a day in the forest, and each carried a short six-chambered rifle at the saddle.
A country like the wild one in which they dwelt soon makes anyone brave and fearless. They meant to ride quite a long way to-day and not return till the sun began to decline in the far and wooded west. So, being already quite an old campaigner, Roland had not forgotten to bring luncheon with him, and some for bold Brawn also.
Into the forest they dashed, leaving the mighty river, which was there about fifteen miles broad probably, in their rear.