The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 96

"Haw-haw!" laughed Mike. "This here arn't Bristol, little Jemmy Wimble, and I'm a free gen'leman now."

"Yes, you look it," said Don, contemptuously. "You scoundrel! How did you come here?"

"Don't call names, Mr Don Lavington, sir," whined the ruffian. "How did I come here? Why, me and these here friends o' mine are gentlemen on our travels. Arn't us, mates."

"Ay: gen'lemen on our travels," said the more evil-looking of the pair; "and look here, youngster, if you meets any one who asks after us, and whether you've seen us, mind you arn't. Understand?"

Don looked at him contemptuously, and half turned away.

"Who was there after you?" said Mike Bannock, suspiciously.

"Some of a tribe of Maoris," replied Jem.

"No one else?"

"No."

"Ah, well, we arn't afeared of them." He patted the stock of his gun meaningly. "Soon make a tribe of them run home to their mothers. See them big birds as we shot at? And I say, young Lavington, what have you been doing to your face? Smudging it to keep off the flies?"

Don coloured through the grey mud, and involuntarily clapped his hand to his face, for he had forgotten the rough disguise.

"Never you mind about his face," said Jem grinning. "What birds?"

"Them great birds as we shot at," said Mike. "I brought one of 'em down."

"You! You couldn't hit a haystack," said Jem. "You hit no bird."

"Ask my mates!" cried Mike eagerly. "Here you, Don Lavington, you usen't to believe me when I told you 'bout big wild beasts and furrin lands. We see three birds just here, fourteen foot high."

"You always were a liar, Mike," said Don contemptuously. "You did not see any bird fourteen feet high, because there are no such things. You didn't see any birds at all."

"Well, of all--" began Mike, but he stopped short as he heard Don's next words,--

"Come, Jem! Come, Ngati! Let's get on."

He stepped forward, but after a quick exchange of glances with his companions, Mike stood in his way.

"No you don't, young un; you stops along of us."

"What!" cried Don.

"We're three English gen'lemen travelling in a foreign country among strangers, and we've met you two. So we says, says we, folks here's a bit too handy with their spears, so it's as well for Englishmen when they meet to keep together, and that's what we're going to do."

"Indeed, we are not!" cried Don. "You go your way, and we'll go ours."

"That's our way," said Mike quickly. "Eh, mates?"

"Ay. That's a true word."

"Then we'll go the way you came," cried Don.

"Nay, you don't; that's our way, too."

"The country's open, and we shall go which way we like," cried Don.

"Hear, hear, Mas' Don!" cried Jem.

"You hold your tongue, old barrel cooper!" cried Mike. "You're going along of us; that's what you're going to do."

"That we are not!" cried Don.

"Oh, yes, you are, so no nonsense. We've got powder and shot, and you've only got spears, and one gun's equal to fifty spears."

"Look here, sir!" cried Don sternly, "I don't want any words with such a man as you. Show me the way you want to take, and we'll go another."

"This here's the way," said Mike menacingly. "This is the way we're going, and you've got to come with us."

"Jem; Ngati; come on," said Don.

"Oh, then you mean to fight, do you?" growled Mike. "Come on then, mates. I think we can give 'em a lesson there."

"Mas' Don," whispered Jem, "it's no good to fight again guns, and my shoulder's a reg'lar dummy. Let's give in civil, and go with them.

We'll get away first chance, and it do make us six again' any savages who may come."

"Savages!" said Don angrily; "why, where would you get such savages as these? The Maoris are gentlemen compared to them."

"That's my 'pinion again, Mas' Don; but we'd better get on."

"But why do they want us with them?"

"Strikes me they're 'fraid we shall tell on them."

"Tell on them?"

"Yes; it's my belief as Master Mike's been transported, and that he's contrived to get away with these two."

"And we are to stop with three such men as these?"

"Well, they arn't the sort of chaps I should choose, Mas' Don; but they say they're gen'lemen, so we must make the best of it. All right, Mike, we're coming."

"That's your sort. Now, then, let's find my big bird, and then I'm with you."

"Yah! There's no big bird," said Jem. "We was the birds, shamming so as to get away from the savages."

"Then you may think yourself precious lucky you weren't shot. Come on."

Mike led the way, and Don and his companions followed, the two rough followers of Mike Bannock coming behind with their guns c.o.c.ked.

"Pleasant that, Mas' Don," said Jem. "Like being prisoners again. But they can't shoot."