te. We will get little Dan at
work to cut up the bullocks; but I'm rather scared about their skins."

"Then why cut the poor things up?" said Mark sharply.

"Why cut them up, sir?" replied the big driver, staring at the boy
wonderingly. "Best bits--beef."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A DEED OF MERCY.

"Come, I call this good luck," cried the big driver, as, following the
black foreloper and with the Hottentot behind, the long line of bullocks
two and two came placidly into sight, looking none the worse for the
night attack, and in no wise troubled for the loss of two of their
brethren.

"Luck!" cried Mark. "It's glorious! I shall be glad when father
knows."

"Ah, we will soon let him know," said Buck good-humouredly; "leastways,
as soon as I can; but it takes longer to inspan than it does to fill
one's pipe. But poor old Peter won't hurt much. He's a bit sore, of
course. A span of bullocks arn't a nice thing to dance over a fellow,
even if he is by natur' like a bit of Indy-rubber. I say--now you
listen."

For as the little Hottentot came into sight Buck hailed him with some
incomprehensible question, the response to which was that he and the
foreloper had climbed a big tree that was close to the first waggon.

"There, what did I tell you?" said the big fellow, with a chuckle, as he
interpreted the Hottentot's reply. "My chaps know how to take care of
theirselves when them great cats are on the way. Here, you have it out
with old Dunn Brown."

"Yes," cried Mark eagerly. "Here, Brown," cried the boy, "what did you
do when you heard the lions?"

"Do?" said the man, rather piteously. "Cut 'em loose--ran--whistled."

"Bravo!" cried Dean, joining with his cousin in a merry laugh.

"We all ran," sighed their queer follower. "None scratched."

"Hurry on," shouted Buck to his men; but the bullocks kept to their
slow, deliberate trudge, munching away at the store of fresh green grass
that had been collecting since their escape. "Perhaps you young gents,"
continued Buck, "would like to mount two of the ponies and canter back
with the news."

"No saddles or bridles," said Mark.

"Tchah! You don't want saddles or bridles. Those little beggars will
go which way you like with a touch of the hand; and I am not going to
believe that you can't get along barebacked. Not me!"

"Oh, I daresay we could manage," said Mark; "but our orders were to see
the bullocks inspanned and go back with them."

"Can't