“Where are they?”
“Back in their holes, perhaps. I cleared. They made a rush for their holes.”
“What do you mean? Did you get behind them?”
“We got down by their holes. Saw ‘em come out, you know, and tried to cut ‘em off. They lolloped out—like rabbits. We ran down and let fly. They ran about wild after our first shot and suddenly came at us. Went for us.”
“How many?”
“Six or seven.”
Cossar led the way to the edge of the pine-wood and halted.
“D’yer mean they got Flack?” asked some one.
“One of ‘em was on to him.”
“Didn’t you shoot?”