"Why, he has found it!" cried Emson; and galloping up, there sat Dyke, flushed and happy, beside a depression in the sand, evidently scraped out, and with the sand banked round to keep the eggs in their places. There they all were, thirty-nine in number, neatly arranged with their points downward, while outside were several more, and on Dyke bending down, he found that they were all of a comfortable temperature; those lying outside being cold, and apparently freshly laid. "Well, you have eyes, old chap!" cried Emson, slapping his brother on the shoulder, and then proceeding to loosen a coarsely meshed net from behind his saddle. "Bravo, Dyke! I told you the tide had turned. We'll get these home at once and put them under one of our hens. Shouldn't wonder if we get a nice little lot of chicks from these." "If we can get them home without breaking." "Oh, we'll do that," cried Emson, dismounting and spreading out the net upon the sand before they began carefully removing the spoil of the nest--that is to say, the eggs, which evidently contained chicks. This done, the net was folded over and tied here and there so as to form a long bag, the ends fastened securely; and each taking an end, they mounted, and swinging between them the huge bag, which now weighed nearly a hundredweight, started for home. They left the new-laid eggs to be fetched that evening, or next morning, leaving them just as they were spread, looking clean and fresh, about the outside of the nest, much to Dyke's regret. "Why, we could manage them too," he said. "We might, but if we did we should have mixed them up with the others, which would be a pity; for if we put them under a bird, they would only be addled, whereas if we keep them separate, they will be good either to set under another hen, or to eat. They will not hurt there." Dyke said no more, but held on tightly to the end of the net, helping his brother to keep their horses a sufficient distance apart, so that the egg purse might keep well off the ground, and not be shaken too much by the horses' gentle pace. "Wonder what the young birds think of their ride," said Dyke merrily. "We shall have one of them chipping an egg presently, and poking out his head to see what's the matter, and why things are getting so cold." "Cold, in this scorching sun!" said Emson; "why it would hatch them out. Hold tight." "Right it is!" cried Dyke in seafaring style. "I say, what a smash it would be if I let go!" "Ah, it would," said Emson; "but you won't. Cry stop when you're tired, and we'll change hands.--Steady, boy!" he continued to his horse, which seemed disposed to increase its speed, and they jogged gently along again. "I always used to read that the ostriches did lay their eggs in the sand and leave them for the sun to hatch."