Off to the Wilds Part 10

"No, let me," said d.i.c.k. "I'm not afraid."

"I don't think a second wetting will do either of you any good," replied their father. "Here, d.i.c.k, take the bay and go across, and make the stupid fellow hold on by your stirrup-leather. Take care to go straight."

"Help. What'll I do now? Are ye going to lave me?" cried Dinny, in piteous tones.

"He really deserves to be left," said Mr Rogers. "We shall have to cure him of this cowardice. Go on, d.i.c.k."

d.i.c.k leaped into the saddle, touched the willing bay's sides, and the horse began to ford the rapid stream, hesitating just a trifle as they reached the middle, where the current pressed most hardly against his flanks; but keeping steadily on till he was safe across.

"Ah, Masther d.i.c.k, dear!" whined Dinny. "An' it's you, thin?"

"Yes, it's me, my brave Irish boy!" said d.i.c.k.

"An' ye didn't bring another of the horses for me, sor?"

"No, Dinny, I didn't," replied d.i.c.k, smiling at the other's cowardice.

"My father said you were to hold on by the stirrup-leather."

"What, and walk acrost?"

"To be sure."

"Saints alive! I daren't do it, Masther d.i.c.k, dear. Sure the bottom of the say--I mane the river--there's paved wid crockydiles; an' every step I took I could feel them heaving up under me."

"What, as you were going across, Dinny?"

"Yis, sor. Not as I minded as long as they kep' quiet; but whin one hungry baste laid howlt toight o' me trousers, and scratched me leg wid his ugly teeth, I felt that it was time to be off back, and I jist escaped."

"Hoi, there, d.i.c.k! Look sharp!"

"Coming!" roared d.i.c.k. "Now then, Dinny. There are no crocodivils here."

"Hark at him now!" cried Dinny. "Why the river swarms wid 'em. Did they ate the black boys?"

"No, of course not. What nonsense! Come, catch hold, and let's go."

"Masther d.i.c.k, dear, I've a mother at home in the owld country, and if anything was to happen to me, she'd never forgive the masther."

"Catch hold, Dinny. I tell you there's nothing to fear."

"Sure, Masther d.i.c.k, dear, an' I'm not afraid--not the laste bit in the worrld; but I couldn't go across there to-night. Wouldn't ye fetch one of the horses, Masther d.i.c.k?"

"No," cried d.i.c.k impatiently. "I couldn't do that. Here, I'll get down and wade, and you can ride."

"Thank ye, Masther d.i.c.k, dear. Sure, it's an honourable gintleman ye'll make, if ye don't let the crockydivils get ye before your time. That's betther," he said, mounting. "Howlt on very tight to the horse's mane, Masther d.i.c.k; and if ye feel one of the bastes feeling and poking ye about wid his nose before getting a good grip, jist you call out, and I'll put on the speed to drag ye away."

"I wouldn't let my feet dabble in the water, Dinny," said d.i.c.k, wickedly. "The crocodiles snap at hands or feet held over in their track."

"What'll I do, then?" cried Dinny, in alarm.

"I'd put my feet in my pockets, if I were you," said d.i.c.k.

"Sure, an' it's a boy ye are for a joke, Masther d.i.c.k," cried Dinny grimly. "I'll howlt me legs up very high. Ah! what are ye shouting about? We're coming."

"Make haste there, d.i.c.k. Is anything wrong?"

"No, father!" shouted back d.i.c.k. "There, get along with you. Give him his head, Dinny, and he'll go straight across."

"I'd better make him canter, hadn't I, Masther d.i.c.k, dear?"

"Canter? Nonsense! Why, the poor thing has enough to do to keep his feet walking."

"Then it isn't safe at all crossing the river, Masther d.i.c.k, dear. And ah, I daren't go like this, wid me riding the good honest baste and you walking. What'll the masther say?"

"That you are a terrible coward, Dinny," replied d.i.c.k.

"Be aisy, Masther d.i.c.k. It isn't being a coward, it's thinking av my poor mother, and taking care of meself for the poor owld sowl's sake.

Whisht, Masther d.i.c.k, dear, jump up behind and hold on by me, and the baste'll carry us both over."

"It's rather hard on the horse, Dinny, but I don't want to get wet, so here goes. Hold tight."

d.i.c.k took a leap, "fly the garter" fas.h.i.+on, and came down astride the bay, but startling it so that it began to rear and plunge.

"Aisy, Masther d.i.c.k, dear, or I'll be off. Be quiet, ye baste. What's the matter wid ye? Quiet, now!"

"Is anything the matter there?" came from out of the darkness across the river.

"No-o-o-o!" roared d.i.c.k, drumming the bay's ribs with his heels. "Trek!

go on, old fellow."

"Oh, take care, Masther d.i.c.k, dear, whatever ye do," whined Dinny.

"Oh, I'll take care," cried d.i.c.k, a.s.suming the lead, and leaning forward so as to get the reins. "There, I'll guide; you hold him tightly with your knees. Go on, bay."

On went the bay steadily enough; and there was no disposition to waver now, even in the sharpest parts of the stream, for the extra weight upon his back made him firmer. But just as they reached the middle of the river a mischievous idea entered d.i.c.k's head, and suddenly with one foot he made a splash, while with the other he pressed Dinny's leg against the horse's side.

"Murther! Help!" yelled Dinny. "He's got me at last!" and throwing himself in the opposite direction, d.i.c.k only managed to save himself by nipping the horse. As for Dinny, he went head over heels into the running stream, being borne back, however, by the current against d.i.c.k's legs, when, grasping him by the collar, d.i.c.k urged the horse on, Dinny supplementing his young master's hold by a most tenacious grasp, till the horse's hoofs began to plash in the shallower water, and poor Dinny was dragged out on to dry land.

"Why, what have you been about, Dinny?" cried Mr Rogers angrily. "Why didn't you come over with us?"

"Sure, sor, I'm kilt entoirely," groaned Dinny, rubbing his leg. "Twice over the savage bastes have had hold of me, and if I hadn't thrown meself on the other side of the bay horse, it's this minute they'd be aiting of me up."

"Jump up and come along," cried Mr Rogers. "It's my belief, Dinny, that you are a great coward. Here, make haste, the waggon's nearly a mile ahead."

"Oh, masther, it was a narrow escape," groaned Dinny, who did not attempt to move.

"It will be a narrower one, Dinny, if you stay there, for the Zulu tells me that this is a favourite spot for lions to lie in wait for the bok and zebra that come down to drink."

"Oh, masther dear, why didn't ye say so before?" cried Dinny, jumping up with alacrity. "Sure I'd be the first to tell a man if he was in danger."