"Here, Sneeshing, you
wouldn't give anybody hydro-what-you-may-call-it, would you, old man,
eh?"

He seized the rough little terrier as he spoke, and turned him over on
his back, caught him by the throat and shook him, the dog retaliating by
growling, snarling, and pretending to worry his master's hand.

This piece of business excited Dirk the collie, who shook out his huge
frill, gave his tail a flourish, and made a plunge at the prostrate dog,
whom he seized by a hind leg, to have Bruce's teeth fixed directly in
his great rough hide, when Kenneth rose up laughing.

"Worry, worry!" he shouted; and there was a regular canine scuffle, all
bark and growl and suppressed whine.

"They'll kill the little dog," cried Max excitedly.

"What, Sneeshing? Not they. It's only their fun. Look!"

For Sneeshing had shaken himself free of Dirk, over whose back he
leaped, then dashed under Bruce, raced round the other two dogs for a
few moments, and then darted off, dodging them in and out among the
rocks, the others in full pursuit till they were all out of breath, when
Sneeshing came close up to his master's heels, Bruce trotted up and
thrust his long nose into his hand, while Dirk went to the front, looked
up inquiringly, and then, keeping a couple of yards in front, led the
way toward a cluster of grey stone buildings hidden from the castle by a
stumpy group of firs.

"He knows where we are going," said Kenneth, laughing, and stopping as
they reached the trees. "Hear that! Our chief singing bird."

Max stared inquiringly at his guide, as a peculiar howl came from beyond
the trees, which sounded as if some one in a doleful minor key was
howling out words that might take form literally as follows:--

"Ach--na--shena--howna howna--wagh--hech--wagh!"

"Pretty, isn't it?" said Kenneth, laughing. "Come away. The ponies are
in here."

He led the way into a comfortable stable, whereupon there was a rattling
of headstalls, and three ugly big rough heads were turned to look at
him, and three shaggy manes were shaken.

"Hallo, Whaup! Hallo, Seapie! Well, Walter!" cried Kenneth, going up
and patting each pony in turn, the little animals responding by nuzzling
up to him and rubbing their ears against his chest.

"Look here!" cried Kenneth. "This is Walter. You'll ride him. Come
and make friends."

Max approached, and then darted back, for, rip rap, the pony's heels
flew out, and as he was standing nearly across the