Part 37 (1/2)

ONE GETS HIS DESERTS.

The little party paused and glanced excitedly round, their weapons ready to fire at the companions whom the man was addressing.

”Keep him off, mate--drag him back, Beardy! Can't you see he's tearing me to bits! Shoot! shoot! why don't you shoot? Never mind hitting me.

Shoot!--can't you see the dog's mad?”

There was a moment or two's pause, during which the man was silent, panting and foaming at the mouth, as he glared wildly towards the door.

Then he began again.

”There, there--you've missed him!” he shrieked. ”He's at me again.

He's mad--mad, I tell you! Shoot--shoot!--ah!”

The poor wretch darted out one hand, caught up something from between the bed and the wall, and the firelight glistened upon the side of a bottle, which he raised so violently to his lips that the neck rattled against his teeth; and the lookers-on heard the deep _glug_--_glug_--_glug_ of the liquid within, as the man drank with avidity.

”Ah!” he yelled again, and, raising himself up, he threw the bottle with all his might across the hut, so that it struck the wooden wall heavily, and fell to the floor unbroken.

”Missed--missed!” shrieked the man; ”and he's springing at me again!

Keep him back--keep him back! Ah!”

The shriek he uttered was horrible, as he went through all the movements of one struggling wildly against the attacks of a savage beast, and then suddenly dropped down cowering into the corner, panting loudly.

Meanwhile Tregelly had picked up the bottle and held it to his nostrils, before glancing at the side.

”That's mine,” he growled. ”They found that, then. I got it for spirits, case I was took ill in the night; but it was so bad I never used none, and put it on the corner of the shelf. It's poison, that's what it is; much like paraffin as can be. Nice stuff for a man like that!”

”The man's mad,” said Dallas, with a shudder.

”Yes,” whispered Abel; ”don't you see, Dal? It's one of three who attacked us up in the pa.s.s.”

”Yes; there's no doubt about that,” said Dallas.

”He's the man who attacked me the other night. I'm sure as can be.”

”Oh, that's him, is it?” said Tregelly with a deep, angry growl. ”Well, it'll be a long time before he attacks you again, my son.”

”Is it fever?” said Dallas.

”'M! no, my son; I've seen a man took like that before. I should say it's hydrophoby, from the bite of a dog; and he's been doctoring himself with that paraffin stuff till he's madder than ever.”

The sight before them had so taken up their attention that for the moment Scruff's pursuit of the other two had been forgotten; but now it was brought vividly back to mind by a dull thump at the door, and the scratching of claws, and as the door yielded, the great dog forced its way in, with his red tongue lolling out, and panting loudly with his exertions.

The effect was magical. The man upon the couch could not have seen or heard the dog, but he seemed to divine the great animal's presence, and springing up again from where he cowered, he began to shriek again horribly.

”The dog--the dog!” he yelled--”tearing me to pieces! Mad--mad!

Shoot--shoot, I say!”

But attention was taken from him to the action of the dog.