First in the Field Part 16

Nic set his teeth, and rolled off his horse in a most ungraceful way, to stand feeling as if the ground was unsafe and all on the move.

"Hurt?" said his father, smiling.

"Yes, father. It's as if my legs had been dragged wide apart and stretched."

"Getting in shape for your saddle, my boy. You'll soon get over this.

Now look here."

Nic did look there, and was shown how to hobble his nag's fore legs to keep it from straying, and how to unbridle and take off the saddle.

"Always give your horse a good rub down where the saddle has been, Nic,"

said the doctor. "Horses are delicate animals. They deserve good treatment too. Your nag carries you well, and he looks to you for payment in food, rest, and good treatment. These make all the difference in the way a horse will last on a journey. Now, my lads, come along. Water."

The doctor led the way, and the horses followed like a couple of dogs.

Nic was following too, with the sensation strongly upon him that he should like to go down on all-fours and follow like a dog, for walking seemed to be a mode of progress to which he was not accustomed.

"Wait a moment, Nic," said his father. "Unfasten the dogs and lead them here. They must want water too."

Nic went to where the dogs were chained to the tail of the waggon, trying to walk firmly and erect, but it was hard work, for his legs seemed to be independent of his body, and there were moments when he felt as if he had none at all.

But he tried not to show it, and while the men were unyoking the oxen, which immediately began to graze on the rich, succulent gra.s.s, Nic proceeded to unchain the dogs.

The task was not so easy as it looked, for the collies were frantic at the thought of being unfastened, and barked and leaped about wildly. To make matters worse, they had been hard at work trying to strangle one another on the way by leaping over their chains, and tying them up in an almost inseparable knot, one which refused to yield to his fingers; and after many tries Nic appealed to Brookes.

"I wish you'd come and unfasten this," he said. "I want to take the dogs to water."

"Take the dogs to water!" grumbled the man. "Why can't they take themselves? Hi! Leather! Come and untie these dogs."

The younger man left the oxen he was loosening, and approached Nic in a surly way, hardly glancing at him; but for a few moments the chain-knot baffled him, while the dogs bounded about wildly.

"Hold them by the collars for a minute," said Leather harshly.

Nic obeyed, feeling mentally lower now, for he seemed to be the servant instead of the other.

Then he felt better, for the man softened a little in his manner.

"Poor brutes!" he said: "prisoners and thirsty. Steady, my lads, steady!"

"Oh, they won't be prisoners long," said Nic. "Father's afraid that they'd run back and try and get on board the ship or to the governor's house."

"There you are," cried the man, placing the chains in his hand, when, as if scenting out the water, the two collies started off, with eyes starting and tongues hanging out of their mouths, tugging and striving to get on, and forcing Nic to follow at a trot, his legs hurting him for the first few moments horribly.

They were not long reaching the shady pool where the horses were now standing in a shallow, with the drops falling from their muzzle.

"Poor beasts! they are thirsty," cried the doctor, as Nic was literally dragged to the edge of the pool, the dogs striving to plunge right in.

"Don't let them go, Nic."

"But they'll have me in, father."

"Don't let them, boy. Ah!"

Nic had not the least intention of letting them, but as the dogs had tugged at their chains the boy was forced from a hobble into a trot, and then, before the doctor could help, he caught one foot in the tough herbage, tripped, went down, and was dragged a yard or two, and then, with a rush and tremendous splash, he followed the dogs' plunge off the bank into deep water, to be towed here and there by the delighted animals, which swam about, barking, drinking, and threatening to tangle their chains in a worse knot than before--to wit, round Nic.

But after the first few moments' confusion the boy touched bottom, and began to wade back, finding it easier to master the dogs in the water than out.

"Well, that's a nice beginning, Nic!" said the doctor.

"Isn't it horrid?" cried the boy.

"Wet?" said his father laconically. "There, it might have been worse.

Let them drink, and then bring them back to the waggon and tie them up.

We must keep them on the chain till we get them home. Poor fellows, then!" he cried, reaching down to pat the dripping heads. "There!

you've had as much as is good for you. Come along."

A tug or two at the chains brought the dogs out, to let themselves off, as it were, and scatter glistening water drops from their s.h.a.ggy hides, after which they broke out into a duet of barks, and danced about on the bank, wagging their tails, evidently inviting Nic to cast sticks into the water for them to fetch, but they followed quietly enough, with the horses behind them, lowering their heads to bite playfully at the collies' waving tails.

"You can get at your portmanteau; it's on the top," said the doctor, as soon as the dogs were secured. "Get out some dry things. You can make a dressing-room behind the tree."

All this the boy proceeded to do, and by the time he had changed he felt none the worse for his involuntary bath, and hung his wrung-out garments on the scorching waggon-tilt to dry.

This done, he obeyed his father's summons, and found him seated in the shade, waiting with a basket of provisions, which Lady O'Hara had provided for their use, while the two men were seated beneath another tree eating, the black standing on one leg a short distance away, resting upon his spear and holding the sole of his right foot flat against his left knee so as to form a peculiar angle. And every now and then one of the men pitched him a piece of bread, which he caught deftly and proceeded to eat.

"Just as if he were a dog," thought Nic, as he sat down by his father and began his _al fresco_ dinner.

And how good it was! He forgot all about the stiffness in his legs in the pure enjoyment of those moments. No school picnic had ever approached it, for everything was so gloriously new and fresh. The beautiful land stretched undulating right away to the blue-tinted mountains, the water-pool sparkled in the sunshine, the horses and cattle grazed in the thick rich gra.s.s, and the waggon helped to form a picture against a clump of shrubs, half-covered with yellow flowers, while a delicious scent of musk filled the air.

Never had repast tasted so delicious; and, with two exceptions, every living creature seemed to be partaking of this enjoyment in the midst of the peaceful repose in that lovely spot. The exceptions were the dogs, which kept on watching them and uttering an uneasy bark now and then, for the rich gra.s.s in which they stood was not to their taste.

Nic went on eating in silence for a few minutes, and then, breaking a loaf in two, rose and went off to the dogs, which readily attacked the bread, a long diet of biscuit on board ship having made them fairly vegetarian in their tastes.

The doctor nodded approval as Nic returned wondering whether he would receive a reproof, and the wayside meal went on till the doctor spoke.

"Well, Nic," he said, "how do you like the beginning of your rough life?"

"It's glorious, father," cried the boy eagerly.

"Humph! In spite of the first lesson in riding, the ducking, and this muddly way of eating--no table-cloth, no chairs or table?"

"Oh, I like it."

"Because it's new and the sun shines?"

"I know that the sun doesn't always shine, father," cried Nic. "I shall like it, I know."

"That's right. But look: here come some visitors that you have only seen in cages at home."

Nic had already sprung to his feet, and he walked out from beneath the tree to gaze excitedly at a flock of white birds that came sailing up, evidently to alight in the grove, but the sudden appearance of the boy made them turn off, shrieking harshly, to find a resting-place farther on, and Nic returned disappointed.