Raed then lighted a match, touched the tow, and retired with alacrity.

It flamed up, and ran along the train; then suddenly went nearly out, but blazed again, and crept slowly up to the powder; when _whank!_ and the rock hopped out from between the others, and rolled spitefully along the ground.

We stood with our guns to our shoulders, and our fingers on the triggers.

But the beast didn't show himself.
"Possibly it killed him," said Kit.
Raed picked up some rough pebbles, and pitched one over between the rocks.

Instantly there was a scramble, and our black-furred friend leaped out and ran.
_Crack-k-k-k!_--a running fire.