He's a cliver little pony, but he's not a floy; and I never knew
that even a floy could stand on a wall with a cart and doctor's medicine
bags a-hanging on to it. G'tup!"
This last sound was addressed to the pony, which in the darkness began
once more its astonishing progress up the sand-hill.
The plea for mercy to the horse entered Caius' reason. The spirit-like
laughter had in some mysterious way soothed his heart. He stood still,
detaining O'Shea no longer, and dimly saw the horse and cart climb up
above him. O'Shea climbed first, for his tones were heard caressing and
coaxing the pony, which he led. Caius saw the cart, a black mass,
disappear over the top of the hill, which was here not more than twenty
feet high. When it was gone he could dimly descry a dark figure, which
he supposed to be the boy, standing on the top, as if waiting to see
what he would do; so, after holding short counsel with himself, he, too,
began to stagger upward, marvelling more and more at the feat of the
pony as he went, for though the precipice was not perpendicular, it had
this added difficulty, that all its particles shifted as they were
touched. There was, however, some solid substance underneath, for,
catching at the sand grasses, clambering rather than walking, he soon
found himself at the top, and would have fallen headlong if he had not
perceived that there was no level space by seeing the boy already
half-way down a descent, which, if it was unexpected, was less
precipitous, and composed of firmer ground.
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