Dave had hold of one of his hands and drew him to a place
of safety before running back to the rope.

"All together, lads! Haul!"

There was a shout and a tremendous splashing, and Dick Winthorpe
struggled to his feet, wiping the black fluid bog from his eyes, to see
Solomon hauled right out, slowly at first, then faster and faster, till
he was literally run over the slippery surface to where there was firm
ground.

"I got it over his head, then?" said Dick huskily.

"Ay, lad, and over his legs too," cried Hickathrift, as he bent down and
loosened the noose. "Eh, bud it's tight. That's it!"

He dragged the rope off, and the donkey lay perfectly motionless for a
few moments, but not with his eyes closed, for he seemed to be glowering
round.

"Is he dying, Hicky?" said Dick.

"Nay, lad; yow can't kill an ass so easy. Seems aw reight. There!"

The last word was uttered as the donkey suddenly struggled up, gave
himself a tremendous shake, till his ears rattled again as the bog water
flew; and then stretching out his neck as if he were about to bray, he
bared his teeth and made a fierce run at the wheelwright.

But Hickathrift struck at him with the rope, and to avoid that, Solomon
worked round, made a bite at Dick, which took effect on his wet coat,
tearing a piece right out. Then he swerved round like lightning and
threw out his heels at Tom, tossed up his head, and then cantered off,
braying as he went, as if nothing had been the matter, and making
straight for the yard.

"Well, of all the ungrateful brutes!" cried Tom.

"Ay, we might just as well hev let him get smothered," said the
wheelwright, joining in the laughter of the others. "Didn't hurt you,
did he, Mester Dick?"

"No, Hicky. Only tore my coat," replied Dick, turning reluctantly up to
the house, for he was wet and now felt cold.

"I say, Dick, what about the netting?" cried Tom.

The lad looked piteously at Dave and his companion of the rabbit
warren--two inseparable friends--and felt that his chance of seeing the
ruffs and reeves captured was very small.

"Are you going--to-day, Dave?" he faltered.

"Nay, lad," said Dave dryly, "yow've had enough o' the bog for one day.
Go and dry thysen. I'll coom and fetch thee to-morrow."

So the lads went up to the house, the men returned to their draining,
and the wheelwright walked slowly away with Dave and John Warren.

"Let's run, Dick," said Tom, who was carrying the rope; "then you won'