“Ah! you know not how near we were to a chance of being delivered. Alas! alas! it is going to escape us!”
“The birds have escaped us, you mean?” inquired Caspar. “What of that? I don’t believe they could have carried up the rope anyhow; and what good would it be to catch them? They’re not eatable; and we don’t want their feathers valuable as they may be.”
“No, no!” hurriedly rejoined Karl; “it is not that—not that.”
“What then, brother?” inquired Caspar, somewhat astonished at the incoherent speeches of the plant-hunter. “What are you thinking of?”
“Look yonder!” said Karl, now for the first time pointing up to the soaring storks. “You see something that shines?”
“Ha! on the leg of one of the birds? Yes; I do see something—like a piece of yellow metal—what can it be?”
“I know what it is!” rejoined Karl, in a regretful tone; “right well do I know. Ah! if we could only have caught that bird, there would have been a hope for us. It’s no use grieving after it now. It’s gone—alas! it’s gone; and you, Fritz, have this day done a thing that will cause us all regret—perhaps for the rest of our lives.”
“I don’t comprehend you, brother!” said Caspar; “but if it’s the escape of the storks that’s to be so much regretted, perhaps it will never take place. They don’t appear to be in such a hurry to leave us—notwithstanding the inhospitable reception Fritz has given them. See! they are circling about, as if they intended to come down again. And see also Ossaroo—he’s holding out a lure for them. I warrant the old shikaree will succeed in coaxing them back. He knows their habits perfectly.”
“Merciful Father!” exclaimed Karl, as he looked first at the flying storks and then at Ossaroo; “be it permitted that he succeed! You, Caspar, lay hold upon Fritz, and give Ossaroo every chance! For your life don’t let the dog get away from you; for your life—for the lives of all of us!”
Caspar, though still under surprise at the excited bearing of his brother, did not allow that to hinder him from obeying his command, and rushing upon Fritz, he caught hold of the dog. Then placing the hound between his legs, he held him with both hands and knees as tightly as if Fritz had been screwed in a vice.