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Updated: June 7, 2025
Luckily he was too stupid to know that they were only toy guns, and when they fired them off crack-crack, they soon discovered that he was in a terrible fright. "What have I done to you, young sirs?" he gasped out. "What have I done to you, that you should want to shoot me? Yet shoot me! yes, destroy me if you will and end my miserable existence!"
Once more he rushed into the cave, seized his rifle and fired a shot into the air. "Crack-crack," two bullets spat against the rock over his head. "Hold on there, you fool!" yelled Cameron, dodging back behind the rock. "What are you shooting at? Hello there!" Still there was no reply.
His face was pale, his eyes burned with a fierce glare, while his voice rang with the blast of a bugle. "Lead those pack horses down that trail!" he yelled, thrusting the line into Cameron's hand. "Quick, I tell you!" "Crack-crack!" Twice a bullet sang savagely past Cameron's ears. "Quicker!" shouted Raven, circling round the bunch of ponies with wild cries and oaths like a man gone mad.
As I tried to get the sight on him I heard other turkeys fly, and the crack-crack of R.C.'s gun. I shot twice at my running turkey, and all I did was to scatter the dirt over him, and make him run faster. R.C. had not done any better shooting. Romer, wonderful to relate, was so excited that he forgot to make fun of our marksmanship. We scouted around some, but the turkeys had gone.
As if the equipage were a great firework, and the mere sight of a smoking cottage chimney had lighted it, instantly it begins to crack and splutter, as if the very devil were in it. Crack, crack, crack, crack. Crack-crack- crack. Crick-crack. Crick-crack. Helo! Hola! Vite! Voleur! Brigand! Hi hi hi! En r-r-r-r-r-route!
He found the human trail, but there was something about it that rather attracted him. He strode along on the dry boughs. "Crack!" went one; "crack-crack!" went another; and Kellyan arose on the platform and strained his eyes in the gloom till a dark form moved into the opening by the bones of the sheep.
Merrihew grew dizzy trying to absorb the whole canvas at once. How the sturdy little campagna ponies ran up and down the narrow winding streets! Crack-crack! went the driver's lash. It possessed a language all its own. It called, it warned at the turning of the corners, it greeted friends, it hurled curses at rivals. Crack-crack! till Merrihew's ears ached.
We dashed through the forest, I leading, she close behind. Nor had we any time to spare, for before we had gone a hundred yards two quick shots rang out. It was "li'l crack-crack" speaking, I felt sure of it. Shots answered rapidly in threes and fours.
KING. "No, you are an honest man: probably a Protestant?" LANDLORD. "JOA, JOA, IHR MAJESTAT, I am of your Majesty's creed!" Crack-crack! At this point the Dialogue is cut short by sudden musket-shots from the woody fields to right; crackle of about twelve shots in all; which hurt nothing but some horse's feet, had been aimed at the light, and too low.
I asked, when everything was ready and each of us had our snack of food. "No," he answered. "Too hard to crawl like snake. They no see us to-day. We take l'il crack-crack." "Little crack-crack" meant an automatic revolver, greatly admired by Smilax and, since Tommy's coaching, handled by him with no mean skill.
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