he big black had been following their trail, showing his teeth
joyously as he pointed with his broken spear and uttered a low bellowing
like a bullock.

"Oh, I am glad," cried Mark. "Now if we could only find the ponies--"

Mak thrust two fingers into his mouth and whistled loudly, in perfect
imitation of Dunn Brown, sending forth the call, which was instantly
answered from the distance.

"Hark at that!" cried Mark. "Why, that must be Dunn! Here, Mak."

The boy thrust his fingers between his lips, withdrew them, and cried,
"Whistle! Whistle!"

The black smiled and nodded, and sent forth the piercing call again.

There was an answer from much nearer. "Oh, I wonder how many he has
found!" In less than a minute the boy's wondering ceased, for he caught
sight of their tall thin follower running swiftly through the low brush,
with all four ponies cantering after him, to pull up in a group as the
man stopped short close to where the keeper and the two lads were
waiting.

"Not hurt, Dunn?" cried Mark joyously.

"No," said the man sadly. "Anybody killed?"

"No. Don't cry about it," cried Mark.

"But Peter Dance is hurt," said Dean sharply.

"Oh," said the man, almost piteously, and then shook his head, looking
from one to the other mournfully. "Let the fire out."

Big Buck Denham bent down to slap his thighs and burst into a roar of
laughter.

"Oh, don't laugh, Buck," cried Mark. "Think of your poor bullocks."

"Yes," said Dunn, in no way discomposed by the man's laughter; "two
killed."

"Well, arn't that enough to make a fellow laugh?" said Buck. "Only two
pulled down. Might have been worse. You have seen them, then?"

"Yes; they followed the ponies. Just came by."

"That's all right, then. Come and help, Dunn. I want to inspan and
take one of the waggons to fetch Peter Dance."

"Ah!" said Dunn, and he shook his head. "Let the fire out."

"Well, don't go howling about it and get the poor fellow into trouble."

"No?" sighed Buck's amateur foreloper.

"No!" thundered Buck. "And there's worse disasters at sea. Bad jobs
turn out trumps sometimes, young gen'lemen. Two bullocks pulled down,
and when we have got Peter Dance back to camp, gentlemen, I daresay you
would like to come along of me to have a look at the dead lions. I say,
Dunn, can you skin a lion?"

"Yes," said the man, and he pulled a long knife out of its sheath and
tried its edge.

"Yes, that will do. I'll help you, ma