crash of a heavy body leaping through the furze.
'Aie! yeou little red rascal. I see yeou!' The keeper threw the gun to his shoulder, and fired both barrels in their direction. The pellets dusted the dry stems round them as a big fox plunged between Stalky's legs and ran over the cliff-edge.
They said nothing till they reached the wood, torn, dishevelled, hot, but unseen.
'Narrow squeak,' said Stalky. 'I'll swear some of the pellets went through my hair.'
'Did you see him?' said Beetle. 'I almost put my hand on him. Wasn't he a wopper! Didn't he stink! Hullo, Turkey, what's the matter? Are you hit?'
M'Turk's lean face had turned pearly white; his mouth, generally half open, was tight shut, and his eyes blazed. They had never seen him like this save once, in a sad time of civil war.
'Do you know that that was just as bad as murder?' he said, in a grating voice, as he brushed prickles from his head.
'Well, he didn't hit us,' said Stalky. 'I think it was rather a lark. Here, where are you going?'
'I'm going up to the house, if there is one,' said M'Turk, pushing through the hollies. 'I am going to tell this Colonel Dabney.'
'Are you crazy? He'll swear it served us jolly well right. He'll report us. It'll be a public lickin'. Oh, Turkey, don't be an ass! Think of us!'
'You fool!' said M'Turk, turning savagely.
