Then a brilliant thought came to him.
The mischievous spirit of the fellow was at once aroused.
Pomp was in the wagon busying himself about the cooking and had not seen Barney’s experience.
The Celt chuckled.
“Och hone!” he muttered. “I’ll paralyze that naygur now or me name ain’t Barney O’Shea.”
With this he procured a dipper and filled it with the water from the lake.
The liquid was as clean and fresh looking as if it had just come from the best of springs.
Barney held the dipper up and shouted:
“Whurroo! I say, naygur! Wud yez luk this way?”
“What fo’ yo’ want ob me?” cried Pomp, coming to the door of the wagon.