"How do I know that, sir? How come the lions to crawl up and stampede my bullocks? Where was the fire when we all jumped up and began shooting? Why, there was only just enough ashes for old Mak to stir up and get to blaze again after he had thrown on some twigs." "Oh, but--" began Dean hotly. "Hold your tongue, Dean," said Mark. "Buck Denham's right. He must be. I believe Peter did go to sleep, and woke up to find the fire out and the lions at the poor ponies and bullocks." "Oh!" cried Dean excitedly. "Why, if he did that, neglecting his duty-- going to sleep--" Just then he caught his cousin's eyes looking at him in a peculiar way, and he stopped short. "Drop it," said Mark, and he was going to add, "Dozey;" but he made his meaning look do instead. "There, gen'lemen," said Buck, "I shan't say no more about it, and I don't believe the poor chap will ever do it again. There, I feel better now, Mr Mark. It's off my mind; but I did feel wild. Why, some of us might have been mauled by the lions; and there's my poor beasts: two of them's killed for sartain, and lying yonder half eaten. Oh, and there's the ponies!" "And we don't know yet," said Mark, "what may have happened to your two men and Brown." "Oh, they will be all right, sir." "I don't know," said Mark. "But there, poor Peter is badly hurt, and we will think about whether we should tell my father and the doctor, or have it out with him ourselves, when he's better. I'll make him confess." "There, what did I tell you, gentlemen?" cried the big driver. "Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Ahoy!" "Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Ahoy! Ahoy!" came from not far away. "There's two of them, gen'lemen." "Where?" cried Dean eagerly. "Oh, not far off, sir. Didn't you hear them shouting? There, you can hear now, surely. I heard them. There!" That to which he drew attention was the low bellowing of oxen being driven in their direction. "Why, they are coming this way," cried Mark. "Yes, sir. That's Hot Tot and the little black. They've found the bullocks." "Some of them," suggested Dean. "All on 'em, sir, as is left alive. They'd hang together when they bolted.--Hullo! Here's Mak come after us;" and the boys turned eagerly, to find the 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.