The Dingo Boys Part 38

"I say, Man; that isn't thunder."

"No," was the reply. "I was just thinking so. Sounds to me like a horse galloping."

"Of course it does. I say, it isn't the colt, is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Our colt gone mad, and galloping about all night so as to make himself look bad to-morrow morning."

"Rubbish!"

"But it does come from the paddock."

"Yes; it does come from the paddock," said Norman, after a pause.

"And no mistake about it. Only one horse too."

"It's very strange," said Norman; "let's go and see."

"What, in the middle of the night, like this? Father would hear us and take us for black fellows."

"We could drop quietly out of the window. Why, Rifle, you're right; there is a horse galloping in the paddock. Let's dress and go."

"Shall we call father and tell him first?"

"No; because we might be wrong. Let's go and see first. A 'possum must have got on the horse's back and be scaring him into this gallop. Look sharp."

The boys soon had on their flannel shirts and trousers, generally their every-day costume, and after satisfying themselves that Tim was fast asleep, they squeezed themselves out of the window and dropped one after the other, and then hurried along in the thick darkness, across the garden, past the storehouse, and then along under the shelter of the fences till, perfectly satisfied now, they neared the corner of the paddock, just as a horse galloped by at full speed.

"No wonder he looks so bad of a morning," whispered Norman. "Here, go on a little farther and then we can look through and see."

They went down now on hands and knees, and crept along till they could look through into the great paddock, just as a flash of lightning revealed to them a group of horses in the centre of the field all pretty close together, and quietly cropping the gra.s.s.

"Strange, isn't it?" whispered Norman. "Listen! here he comes round again."

For the beat of hoofs approached from their left, and the next minute a horse thundered by at full speed.

"Why, it was!" whispered Rifle, "I saw one of those 'possums perched on its back."

"No," said Norman, excitedly. "I saw something distinctly; but it was too big to be a 'possum. I think it was one of those big things that Shanter killed. Father said it was the koala or native bear."

"Let's wait till it comes round again."

The time seemed long, but the horse came thundering past once more, evidently steadily coursing all round the paddock close to the rails, while its fellows cl.u.s.tered in the middle out of the way.

"It is one of those things," said Norman, triumphantly.

"It wasn't," said Rifle. "I saw it quite plain, and it was one of those kangaroos as big as a man. I say, whoever would have thought of their doing that?"

"What shall we do? Hadn't we better go and rouse up father?"

"No," said Rifle; "let's stop and see the end of it; and to-morrow night we can all come and catch or shoot the beast. If we went now and fetched him, it might be gone before we got back, and he would think we had been dreaming."

"Here it comes again; hish!" whispered Norman; and once more there was the rapid beat of the horse's feet on the dry ground, and it tore by just as there was a brighter flash of lightning; then the flying object had darted by, and Norman uttered a loud e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.

"Did you see?" whispered Rifle.

"Yes; it was a myall black. I saw him quite plainly."

"Not quite plainly," said Rifle. "But I saw him. It was a black on the poor horse, but it was old Shanter."

"What?"

"It was! I saw his face as plain as possible. Don't you see? He wanted to mount the horse and father wouldn't let him, so he determined to have a ride, and he must have come and had one every night, and then gone off again into the scrub."

"But--"

"Don't say 'but.' You know how fond he has been of horses, always wanting to ride when he went out with us."

"Yes, I know; but still I can't think he would like to do that."

"But he _is_ doing it. Here he comes again."

This time, as the horse galloped by, they both had a perfectly plain view of the black's excited face and position as, evidently in a high state of glee, he tore by on the well-bred horse.

"Now," said Rifle; "was I right?"

"Oh yes," said Norman, with a sigh. "You were quite right. But be ready to shout and stop him as he comes round again."

They waited for the sound of the warning thunder of hoofs, but though they heard them grow more faint, and then sound softer as they paced along on the far side of the paddock, the sound did not increase, and while they were listening there came a distinct snort, followed by a loud neighing nearer to them; another snort, and then a flash of vivid lightning illumining the paddock long enough for them to see the drove of horses in the middle all gazing in one direction toward another horse walking in their direction. Then there was black darkness, another snort, an answering neigh, and silence, broken by the faintly-heard sound of gra.s.s being torn off from its roots.

"He's gone," said Norman, in a whisper. "Let's run and wake father."

"What's the good now? Let's go back to bed, and tell him in the morning. No: I don't like to. Why, he'd be ready to half kill poor old Shanter."

Norman was silent, and they tramped back to the house when, just as Norman was reaching up to get hold of the window-sill, a hand was stretched out.

"Hallo! you two. Where have you been?"

"Never mind," said Norman. "Wait till we get in again."

They both climbed in silently, and Tim began again.

"I say, it was shabby to go without me;" and when they explained why they had hurried off, he was no better satisfied. "I wouldn't have served you so," he grumbled. "But I say, won't uncle be in a way?"

"Yes, if Norman tells him," said Rifle. "Don't you think we had better hold our tongues?"

A long discussion followed, with the result that Rifle found himself in the minority, and went to sleep feeling rather unhappy about the black.