The Dingo Boys Part 40

Shanter flinched, and gave himself another rub, looking about in the darkness from one to the other.

"Let me fetch him a bit of damper, father," whispered Rifle.

"No," said the captain, sternly. "The scoundrel has nearly ruined a fine young horse, and he must be taught a lesson.--Now, sir, be off!"

"Baal gib mine big damper?" cried the black.

"No; only the whip," said the captain, giving the thong a sharp crack, and then another and another in all directions near the black's naked shoulders, with the result that at every crack Shanter winced and leaped about.

"Marmi Man gib mine damper."

"I can't," said Norman.

"Marmi Rifle, Marmi Tim, gib mine damper."

"No--no--no," shouted the captain. "Now go and never come here again."

The black gave another writhe, as if smarting from the pain of the blow he had received, and ended by s.n.a.t.c.hing boomerang and club from his waistband, uttering a fiercely defiant yell as he clattered them together, leaped the fence and darted off straight across the paddock, shouting as he rushed on toward the horses, and sending them in panic to the end of the enclosure.

"The scoundrel!" shouted the captain; "those horse will cripple themselves on the posts and rails. No; they're coming back again," he cried, as he heard the little herd come galloping round. "Steady there--woho--boys! Steady, woho there--woho!" he continued; and the horses gradually ceased their headlong flight, and turned and trotted gently toward the familiar voice.

The captain was joined by the boys, who all went toward the horses, patting and caressing them for a few minutes before leaving the paddock and going back toward the house.

"Now," said the captain; "who is to say that this black fellow will not come to-morrow night, or perhaps to-night, take out a rail or two, and drive off all our horses?"

"I can," said Norman.

"So can we," cried Rifle. "I don't believe old Shanter ever could steal."

"Well done, boys, for your belief in savage nature," cried Uncle Jack.--"No, Ned, you are wrong. I believe that the poor fellow is honest as the day."

"Thank you, uncle," whispered Tim.

"Well," said the captain, "we shall see. But I think I have let the poor fellow off very easily. I came out to-night meaning to give him a tremendous horse-whipping, but out of weakness and consideration for you boys' feelings, I've let him off with one cut."

"Enough too," said Uncle Jack, "for it was big enough for a dozen."

"Well, it was a tidy one," said the captain, laughing. "There, come back to the house. But no more black pets, boys. If you want to make companions, try the horses."

"And perhaps they'd run away with one."

"Or throw us."

"Or kick us."

So cried the boys one after another, and the captain uttered a grunt.

"Look here," he said; "I'm not going to sit up and watch to-night, but if those horses are driven off by that black scoundrel, I'll hunt him down with a gun."

"Not you, Ned," said Uncle Jack, with a chuckle.

"Don't you believe him, boys."

"We don't, uncle," they chorused.

"Ah, well," said the captain, laughing; "we shall see."

CHAPTER TWENTY.

"WE SHALL HAVE TO TRUST HIM."

"Whatever is the matter with that cow?" cried Aunt Georgie, as they sat at their evening meal the next day. "Why is she lowing like that? It's my poor Jersey, and--goodness gracious, what is the matter with her tail?"

"Tail!" shouted the captain, springing up as the cow came clumsily cantering up, followed by all the rest of the cattle, who added their lowing to the Jersey's mournful bellow. "Tail! Here, quick, Jack-- boys, the guns; the poor creature has been speared."

It was plain enough. Speared, and badly, for the weapon stood firmly just in front of the poor animal's tail, in spite of the frantic gallop in which she had sought for relief.

"I can't leave the poor beast like this, Jack," cried the captain.

"Cover me if you see any one stealing up. No; there is no need. I can see it all plainly enough."

The cow did not run away from him as he went close up, and with a sharp tug dragged out the clumsy weapon, tearing his handkerchief afterward to plug the horrible wound.

"Will she get better, father?" asked Norman.

"I hope so, boy. I don't think the point can have reached any vital part. But you see, don't you?"

"Only the wound, father. What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid this is your friend Shanter's bit of revenge for my blow."

"Oh no, father," cried Rifle, indignantly. "Poor old Tam o' Shanter would not be such a brute."

The captain smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. "Here, let's get all the beasts into the enclosure," he said. "We do not want any more to be speared;" and sending two of the boys forward to open the rails, the cow was gently driven in, the rest of the stock following patiently enough to the very last.

"Well," said Uncle Jack, emphatically, "I don't think I'm a vicious man, but I honestly wish that the vile wretch who threw that spear had been well gored by the animal in return."

"So do I, uncle," cried Rifle, warmly, "for I'm sure it wasn't Shanter.--What do you think, Tim?"

"I don't know," replied the boy. "I hope it wasn't; but as Uncle Edward says, it does look very black."

"Bah! You're black," cried Rifle, fiercely.--"You don't think it was Shanter, do you, Man?"

"I don't want to think it was," replied his brother, thoughtfully, "but it does look very bad."

This was while the captain had walked up to the house to order the ladies to stay within doors, promising in return that he would be very careful, and not run into any danger.

"Looks very bad!" cried Rifle, contemptuously. "I only wish I knew where old Shanter was. I'd go and fetch him to make him tell you that you ought all to be ashamed of yourselves."