What sort of men? Any men that came along? said the troop-horse. They
teach us in riding school to lie down and let our masters fire across
us, but Dick Cunliffe is the only man I d trust to do that. It tickles
my girths, and, besides, I can t see with my head on the ground.
What does it matter who fires across you? said the camel. There are
plenty of men and plenty of other camels close by, and a great many
clouds of smoke. I am not frightened then. I sit still and wait.
And yet, said Billy, you dream bad dreams and upset the camp at
night. Well, well! Before I d lie down, not to speak of sitting down,
and let a man fire across me, my heels and his head would have something
to say to each other. Did you ever hear anything so awful as that?
There was a long silence, and then one of the gun bullocks lifted up his
big head and said, This is very foolish indeed. There is only one way
of fighting.
Oh, go on, said Billy. Please don t mind me. I suppose you fellows
fight standing on your tails?
Only one way, said the two together. (They must have been twins.)
This is that way. To put all twenty yoke of us to the big gun as soon
as Two Tails trumpets. ( Two Tails is camp slang for the elephant.)
What does Two Tails trumpet for? said the young mule.
To show that he is not going any nearer to the smoke on the other
side. Two Tails is a great coward. Then we tug the big gun all
together--Heya--Hullah! Heeyah! Hullah! We do not climb like cats nor
run like calves. We go across the level plain, twenty yoke of us, till
we are unyoked again, and we graze while the big guns talk across the
plain to some town with mud walls, and pieces of the wall fall out, and
the dust goes up as though many cattle were coming home.
Oh! And you choose that time for grazing? said the young mule.
That time or any other. Eating is always good. We eat till we are yoked
up again and tug the gun back to where Two Tails is waiting for it.
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