“I don’t hear the cow bells. The animals must have gotten away quite a distance,” suggested Emma mischievously.
Stacy took all the time he could in getting ready, and, as a result, by the time he was ready to start, breakfast was nearly ready to be served.
“Don’t I eat first?” he questioned anxiously.
“Certainly not. Wranglers always go out for the horses before breakfast,” reminded Emma.
Chunky threw himself into the saddle and galloped away at a reckless pace, but his was a long chase, for the ponies had wandered some distance from camp. They were lying down in a glade and did not move or make a sound when the boy rode past them.
Stacy had followed their trail out, but, suddenly discovering that he had lost it, he turned about and went back to pick it up. This time he discovered the animals.
“So! There you are, eh?” he jeered, regarding the horses resentfully. “Thought you would play me a smart trick, did you? I’ll be even with you for that.”
After much floundering about, the white pack pony, Kitty, finally got up grunting and groaning dismally, then Stacy began removing the hobbles from their legs. Kitty gave him the most trouble, the white mare insisting on grabbing Chunky by the trousers every time he stooped to unfasten the hobbles. This continued until Stacy finally lost his patience, and, getting a switch, he gave Kitty a good sharp touching-up. Finally, having completed his task, he turned their heads towards camp and mounted his own saddle pony.
“Shoo! Go on, you lazy louts! Think I am going to eat cold grub, just out of consideration for you?”
It was shortly after that that the Overlanders in camp heard the tinkle of the bells on two of the pack animals, and when Stacy rode into camp the party was half way through breakfast. Slipping from his saddle, Stacy started at a run for breakfast, flinging a set of hobbles at the cook as he passed.