ted his cry by going down on hands and knees in a clumsy
gallop, which ended with a toss of the head in the air.

"Yes; that's him," said Dinny. "Well, I want ye to find the way to
where he lives by his futmarks, and then come and tell me, and I'll go
and shute him."

Chicory nodded his head, and they went back to the waggon, where Dinny
presented himself to his master all at once with a request for a gun.

"A gun, Dinny? And what do you want with a gun?"

"Shure, sor, everybody else learns how to shute, and I thought I'd like
to be able to shute a line or a hippo--what's his name, or any other of
the savage bastes if they came near the waggon while ye were away."

"Well, Dinny, I have no objection, if you promise to be careful."

"But I want one o' them that shutes big bullets, sor, and not the little
pishtol things that only shutes small shot, sor."

"You shall have a good rifle, Dinny," said his master. "Dick, get the
Snider--the short Snider--out of the waggon, and give him twenty
cartridges."

This was done, and the rifle placed in Dinny's hands.

"You must be very careful how you shoot with it, Dinny," said Mr
Rogers.

"Shure and I will, sor."

"But be particularly careful not to fire in the direction where any one
is coming. Remember a Snider is dangerous at a mile."

"Is it now?" said Dinny. "But shure, sor, I want a gun, and I don't
care for your Sniders at all. What's a Snider to do wid me? It's a gun
I want."

"To kill wild beasts, Dinny?"

"That same, sor."

"Well, then, take that Snider-rifle; it will kill at a tremendous
distance."

"What, that little bid of a thing, sor?"

"To be sure, man. Now take care, and you'll have to keep it clean and
free from rust as well."

"Thanky, sor, and I will, and it will have too much to do for it to get
rusty."

"Well, Dinny, I trust you, mind, so be careful with your weapon."

"Shure, sor, and I will," said Dinny; and taking the Snider very
carefully in his hands, he asked Jack to give him "a bit of showing how
to trim thim," and this Jack did till he was perfect, when Dinny went
off with the rifle, muttering to himself.

"Think o' that now!" he kept on saying, "that bit of a thing shooting a
baste at a mile!"

Nothing more was said by Dinny, who had made his plans, and he kept his
own secret of what he intended to do. On the following afternoon
Chicory came to him in high glee, to claim the roast meat and cake
promised, and he ann