egs on her fore-hoofs, and sparred at the
sky with her hind. Wait a bit, and you and I'll take some of the steam
out of her and Longshanks. We'll hunt out no end of ostriches' nests in
the farther-off part of the veldt. Here, what are you shaking your
jolly old head for? It's been quite shaky enough, hasn't it?"

"I was thinking of the ostrich-farming, little un," said Emson sadly.
"No, my lad, no more time wasted over that. Two hundred years hence
they may have got a more manageable strain of domesticated birds that
will live well in confinement. We've had our try, and failed."

"Bah! Not half tried. I haven't. No, Joe, we won't give up. We'll do
it yet. Why, it was that black scoundrel Jack who caused half the
mischief. Oh, Joe, if I could only have caught him when he was knocking
those poor young birds on the head, and had my gun with me."

"What! would you have shot at him, young un?"

"If I'd had small shot in one of the barrels. They'd have just gone
through, and peppered his hide nicely. I say, Joe, his clothes wouldn't
have stopped the shot corns."

"No," said Emson, smiling; "his clothes wouldn't have stopped them."

"Hooray-y-y-y!" shouted Dyke again, and the two lion cubs looked over
the packing-case in which they were confined, wonderingly.

"Look at him! A regular half laugh. We shall have the whole laugh
soon. But there, I mustn't stop, wasting time here."

"Yes; stay a little longer, little un. I want to talk to you," said
Emson.

"About my being such a nice, good boy--so brave and so noodley? No, you
don't. I'm off!"

"No, no; I will not say a word about that. I want to talk to you."

"But the ostriches want feeding."

"They must wait," said Emson sadly. "They've made us wait for profit.
Look here, little un; sit down."

"Well, if you want it. But, honour bright: no buttering me."

"I want to talk about our future."

"Well, I can tell you that, Joe. We're going to make a big success of
the farm."

"No, boy; we are going to give it up."

"What! Sell it?"

"No; I should be ashamed to take money off a man for so worthless a
bargain. We are going to scrape together what skins and feathers are
ours, so as to pay our way, and going home."

"What! empty?" cried Dyke. "That we won't."

"We must, boy. I shall never be myself till I have been under a good
doctor."

"What nonsense, Joe. There, let's talk about something else.--I say,
how playful the cubs get;