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In the waggon itself Mrs Brook, Mrs Scholtz, and Junkie found a somewhat uneasy resting-place, for, being new to the style of travel, they had not learned to accommodate themselves to jolts and crashes. Gertie preferred to walk, the pace not being more than three miles an hour.
Putting it on, he returned the way he had come. "That wass cliver, man," said the admiring Donald, when his friend rejoined him. Junkie accepted the compliment with a dignified smile, and then sat down to wait; but it was a severe trial of patience to both of them, for the old man slept steadily on, and even snored. He seemed, in short, to have fairly gone to bed for the night.
"I hope he's not hurt," replied Junkie, raising his head cautiously. He saw that MacRummle had risen, and, with a rueful expression of face, was making insane and futile efforts to look at himself behind. A beaming smile overspread the boy's face as he glanced at his companion, for he knew well that the old gentleman cared little or nothing for water.
No one else felt inclined to go except Junkie Brook, so he and the four Bowkers went off, Septimus pressing the "post-office" tightly on his brows as they galloped away. They had not far to go, game of all kinds being abundant in that region, but instead of finding a buffalo or gnu, they discovered a lioness in a bed of rushes.
It's a pity it has got a middle at all; two ends would be better, I think. But won't you tell about the elephants to us, Mr Jackman? There's plenty of us here please!" "Nay, Junkie; you would not have me break my word, surely. When we are all assembled together you shall have it some wet day, perhaps."
And this was obviously the case, for, after squeezing as much water out of his nether garments as chose to come, he proceeded to the head of the runs and resumed fishing. "I'm beginnin' to see through't," murmured Junkie, after watching for some time. "See! he has hooked another. Ye see, Tonal', it must be lettin' the hook drift away down under the ledges that does it. Look! He's got 'im!"
The clang of the luncheon gong was the first thing that brought them to their senses. "Surely there must be some mistake! Junkie must be playing with no, it is indeed one o'clock," exclaimed Milly, consulting in unbelief a watch so small that it seemed like cruelty to expect it to go at all, much less to go correctly.
"Oh my! oh me!" cried Mrs Scholtz, leaping back into bed with unfeminine haste, "he's gone!" "Who's gone?" asked McTavish. "Junkie!" "What! where? when? how? why?" said Mrs McTavish, Jessie, and others. Mrs Scholtz gasped and pointed to the lattice; at the same time she grasped her garments as a broad hint to the men. They took it hastily. "Come, boys, search about, and one of you saddle up.
As it stands to reason that we cannot accompany all of these parties, we elect to follow Giles Jackman, Quin, and Junkie up the river. This expedition involved a preliminary walk of four miles, which they all preferred to being driven to the scene of action in a dog-cart. Junkie was a little fellow for his age, but remarkably intelligent, active, bright and strong.
The good nurse was unexpectedly aided, however, by the savage chief, who on repassing the window, looked in and made his black face supernaturally hideous by glaring at the refractory child. Junkie was petrified on the spot, and remained "good" till forgetfulness and sleep overpowered him.
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