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Clinging in silence to the long, soft ears of his motionless bunny, the timid little game-bearer sat there alone, big-eyed and dumb with wonder and childish alarm. He could see not far, unless it might be up the hill, for the sage-brush grew above his head and circumscribed his view.
"Then take your gun," said the captain, "and shoot a few savages, only keep yourself to the smaller inhabitants of the place, as we are not cannibals." "Can I have Mark for my game-bearer?" said the major; and the lad darted a grateful look at him. "I was going to propose that he should take a gun and go with you," said the captain.
The tiny chap of a game-bearer, gripping the long, velvet ears of one of the jack-rabbits tied to his horse, felt a horrid new sensation of sliding backward when the pony began to follow the hunters up the hill. Not only did the animal's rump seem to sink beneath him as they took the slope, but perspiration had made it amazingly smooth and insecure.
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