Mother Carey's Chicken Part 51

"No use!" said the major. "What, give up! Do you know what Lord Lytton says in Richelieu?"

"No," said Mark wearily; and then to himself--"and I don't care."

"'In the bright lexicon of youth there is no such word as fail.'"

"But then Lord Lytton had not been out here hungry and thirsty, toiling after these sandy jack-o'-lanterns with a heavy gun," said Mark.

"Probably not," said the major. "But, never mind: we may get a shot yet. One more steady try, and then we'll go back."

"Oh, Major O'Halloran, what a man you are to walk!" said Mark, rising wearily.

"Yes, my lad," said the major smiling. "I belong to a marching regiment. Now, look here, Mark; I'm quite sure those birds would eat deliciously roasted, and that the ladies would each like a bit of the breast."

"Let's try, then, once more," said Mark; and they went on, with Bruff dutifully trotting behind waiting for the first shot and the fall of a bird.

But no; as they advanced the birds still went on, running well out of range and stopping again to scratch and feed.

There were about fifteen of them, and the more they kept ahead the more eager grew their stalkers, till after this had been going on for another half-hour Bruff could stand it no longer, but dashed off at full speed, barking furiously, with the result that instead of running off like the wind the birds stopped staring for a few seconds and then all took flight.

"That's done it!" cried the major angrily. "Hang that dog! No: look, Mark!"

"Yes, we may get a shot now," he cried; "they're all in those trees."

"Well, keep close in, and we'll have a try."

They had a couple of hundred yards to go to where Bruff stood barking furiously at the birds, which kept in the moderately high boughs staring stupidly down at him, and so intent upon the beast, so novel evidently to them, that the two hunters had a chance to get close up, and taking his time from the major, Mark fixed the quivering sight of his gun on one of the birds, and drew trigger just as the major fired twice.

As the smoke blew away there was a whirring of wings and three heavy thuds upon the ground.

Away went the birds, but only about fifty yards more, to settle again, Bruff keeping up with them, and again taking their attention by barking furiously.

The manoeuvres of approaching were again successfully gone through, and this time the major whispered:

"Loaded again?"

"Yes."

"Then fire both barrels this time. Try and get a right and left.

Fire!"

Their pieces went off simultaneously the first time; then the major's second barrel rang out, and Mark's second directly afterwards, and by sheer luck--ill-luck for the birds--he brought down his first bird from the branch of the tree dead, and in his random flying shot winged one of the others so badly that it fell, and Bruff caught it before it had time to recover and race away.

"Hurrah!" shouted the major as the diminished flock now flew inland over the jungle. "Seven birds, Mark: a load. And you said you couldn't shoot! Why, it's glorious!"

"I'm sure it was accident, sir," said Mark with his cheeks burning.

"Then bless all such accidents say I, a hungry man!"

"Yah!" came faintly from a distance.

"What's that?" cried the major.

"Yah!" came again, or what sounded like it, for to their startled ears it was more like a savage yell.

"Load quickly," cried the major, setting the example. "Savages at last.

Now, the birds and a quick retreat. Wonder how heavy they are; but save them I will if I have a stand to defend them, and send you back for help."

Mark caught up his heavy birds and ran back with the major to where the first they had shot lay, while from behind came another yell, and looking over his shoulder Mark saw that a spear-armed figure was coming rapidly in pursuit.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

HOW MARK FOUND SOMETHING THAT WAS NOT GAME.

They had not far to go, but in a hot sun, and with the double guns, ammunition, and the heavy birds, they were panting and in a profuse perspiration.

"Can't do impossibilities, Mark, my lad," cried the major. "We must either run for it without our game, or stop and fight for it."

"Oh!" cried Mark; "we can't leave the birds."

"But you can't fight," cried the major, who, as he spoke, began throwing the great birds behind a clump of rocks.

"But they have taken so much trouble to get," panted Mark.

"And I'm so hungry that I feel like a dog with a bone," snapped the major. "I won't give 'em up without a fight. Come in here, my boy, and I'll have a good try for it. We've plenty of ammunition, and perhaps a peppering with small-shot will scare the blackguards away."

Mark obeyed, and the next moment, with their birds, they were snugly ensconced in a little natural fortification, open to attack only on one side, the others being protected by the rocks and the dense jungle.

This movement took them out of sight of their pursuer, who was hidden now by the trees.

"Now, my boy, lay out some cartridges, and keep down out of sight. You reload, and keep on exchanging guns. I'm a soldier, and will do the fighting. I meant to run and leave our dinner, undignified as it may be; but hang me if I do at the sight of a half-naked savage with a spear."

"But there must be a whole tribe of them behind, sir," whispered Mark.

"Yes; that's the worst of it. But never mind, I'll pepper their skins, and perhaps that will stop them. But look here, my boy, if matters begin to look very ugly you are not to hesitate for a moment."

"Yah!"

A pause.

"Yoy-oy-oy-oy!"

This last in a different tone, but both yells were of a most savage, highly-pitched nature.

"Another of them," whispered the major; and then, as the sounds were repeated faintly a long way off, "There's the main body coming on.

Mark, my lad, never mind me. I didn't know what I was saying before.

Here, shake hands, and G.o.d bless you, boy! I don't suppose I shall hurt. Run for it at once, and I'll cover your retreat."