Morgan, confidently. "Like to catch him at
it."

He had his wish, for the boy swung himself round and set his teeth hard
in Morgan's leg.

"Oh! Well, he is hungry, and no mistake," said Morgan, freeing himself
by giving the boy's head a sharp thrust.

"Has he bitten you?" said my father.

"Well, he have, and he haven't, sir. Breeches was a bit too tough for
him, but he has nipped me finely. Wonderful power in his jaw. No, no,
Master George, don't you touch him; he'll have to go in the copper
first. Ah, would you! Why, he's like a fish, only he arn't hooked."

For the boy had made a dash for liberty, and it was only after a severe
struggle that he was held down, and this time I was the sufferer; for,
as I helped to keep him from springing overboard, he swung his head
round and fixed his teeth in my left arm in a pinch that seemed to be
scooping out a circular piece of flesh.

"Well, he is a warmint, and no mistake. Let go, will you, sir?"

"Don't strike the boy," said my father. "Let me get hold of his jaw."

The boy saw the hand coming and wrenched himself away, seeming to take a
piece of my arm with him, and leaving me throbbing with agonising pain,
and feeling as if I must yell out and sob and cry.

"Well done, George!" said my father, pressing my shoulder in a firm
grip. "That's brave; always try and bear pain like a man."

"But it hurts horribly," I said, with my eyes full of tears.

"I know it does, my lad, but noise will not ease the pang.--Now, Morgan,
you had better fetch another rope and bind him well."

"S'pose I had, sir. I'd take hold of him and carry him ashore, but he'd
have his teeth into me directly. S'pose people don't go mad after being
bit by boys? On'y feel mad, eh, Master George?"

I nodded, for I could not trust myself to speak, and I stood looking on
as the boy was held back in the bottom of the boat, with my father's
foot upon his breast.

"Shall I fetch a rope, sir? Can you hold him?"

"Yes, I think so. We can manage him between us."

Morgan leaped ashore, and he was about to go up to the house, when a
rush and scramble brought him back, for the boy was struggling like an
eel; and how he managed I do not know, but he wriggled from beneath my
father's foot, passed under the thwart, and, as I tried to stop him,
threw me backwards, and was over the side with a splash and beneath the
stream.

As I uttered a cry of horror I saw the boy's woolly head appear for a
mo