Dead Man's Land Part 29

"Oh!" groaned the man again.

"Come, your leg's not broken. Yes, no doubt it hurts you, but it's only a sprain. Keep up your spirits. You are not going to die this time."

"But I am hurt all over, sir. The bullocks trampled me: came all in a rush."

"But how came you here, mate?" asked Dan, pausing from his busy task of slashing away at the undergrowth with the big sheath knife which he used for skinning and cutting up.

"I dunno, mate. It all seems like a dream."

"Like a dream?" said Mark, as he recalled his own awakening.

"Yes, Mr Mark, sir. I was sitting on the watch there with my rifle across my knees, wondering how long it would be before daybreak, when all at once there was a big lion as had come up without a sound, looking straight at me."

"Could you see him, mate?" asked Buck.

"Only his eyes."

"Why didn't you fire?"

"Fire? Oh, I was too much skeart. I'll tell the truth about it. I was so frightened that I jumped up and ran, not knowing where I was going, for ever so far, and then I found by the trampling and bellowing that it was right into the way of the bullocks. Then before I knew where I was they knocked me down and the whole drove had gone over me, and when I got my senses again I crawled on here in the dark, and I suppose I swoonded away. That's all I know. Am I very bad, doctor?"

"A man can't be trampled on by a drove of bullocks without being a good deal hurt," said the doctor. "We must carry him somehow to the waggons, or better still bring one of them past here. What do you think, Denham?

Do you think you could inspan some of the bullocks and drag one of the waggons here?"

"Oh, yes, sir, I daresay we can get together enough for that. I'll go back and see."

"Yes, do, my man," said Sir James. "I will stay with the doctor, and with your help, Bacon, we will see what we can do."

"That's right, sir," said Buck Denham. "Perhaps you two young gents wouldn't mind coming with me?"

"I--" began Mark, and he stopped short, for the man gave him a peculiar look. "Yes, Buck, I'll come," he said, "and Dean will come too."

They started off, and the big driver said, loudly enough for those they were leaving to hear, "Thank you, gentlemen; I daresay you two will be able to help me a bit."

They started off together on the back trail, Buck Denham pointing out how they had trampled down the herbage, brushing off the dew and here and there breaking down twigs.

"Ah!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Here's poor old Peter's trail. See that?

He must have crawled along here. But I don't see the spoor of any of my beasts--yes, I do," he cried, a few yards farther. "They went along here in a drove. Then we had better turn off and follow them up. I don't suppose they will have gone so very far. Say, Mr Mark, sir; do you know why I wanted you two to come with me?"

"To help find the bullocks," said Dean sharply.

The man chuckled as he trotted on along the marks made by the animals.

"No," he said. "It's all plain enough. I didn't want any help. Why, you two could find them if you went far enough. I wanted to get summut off my mind."

"Something off your mind?" said Mark.

"Yes, sir; I don't like to speak out and get another fellow into trouble, but I felt as you two ought to know, and then you could talk it over between yourselves and settle whether you ought to tell the boss."

"Tell my father?" said Mark.

"Yes, sir, or the doctor; and perhaps he will think the poor fellow's got it bad enough without facing more trouble."

"What do you mean, Buck?" cried Dean.

"What I was going to say," said Mark.

"Well, gen'lemen, only this; we oughtn't to have had a surprise like that. It was Peter Dance's watch, warn't it?"

"Yes," cried Mark excitedly, as strange thoughts began to hurry through his brain.

"Well, sir, he as good as said as he was sitting down with his shooter across his knees."

"Yes, yes," cried Dean.

"Well, sir, why didn't he shoot?"

"He was too much startled," said Dean. "Poor fellow! I should have been quite as scared, with a lion creeping right up to me like that."

"I suppose so, sir. But I don't quite believe that tale. I never 'eerd of a lion creeping up to look at a man who was sitting by a fire."

"No," said Mark, in a whisper, as if to himself, and he trotted on the newly made trampled trail of the oxen.

"Why should you doubt it?" said Dean sharply. "I have known Peter Dance ever since I was a quite a little fellow. He can be very disagreeable sometimes, but I never found him out in a lie."

"No, sir?" said Buck. "Well, I think you have found him out now."

"What do you mean?" cried Dean. "Here, Mark, why don't you say something?"

"Because I'm listening," said his cousin drily. "Tell him what you think, Buck."

"Yes, sir; I will, sir. Well, I think--bah! I am sure--that there was no fire."

"What!" cried Dean angrily.

"Gone to sleep, sir, and let it out."

"How do you know that?" cried Dean, indignant in his defence of his uncle's old servant.

"How do I know that, sir? How come the lions to crawl up and stampede my bullocks? Where was the fire when we all jumped up and began shooting? Why, there was only just enough ashes for old Mak to stir up and get to blaze again after he had thrown on some twigs."

"Oh, but--" began Dean hotly.

"Hold your tongue, Dean," said Mark. "Buck Denham's right. He must be.

I believe Peter did go to sleep, and woke up to find the fire out and the lions at the poor ponies and bullocks."

"Oh!" cried Dean excitedly. "Why, if he did that, neglecting his duty-- going to sleep--"

Just then he caught his cousin's eyes looking at him in a peculiar way, and he stopped short.