I only treat you as a raw lad who has to be trained to our ways." "But you expect me to shoot you as soon as I begin to trot." "I don't mean you to, Nic.

But such a thing is quite possible when you fall." "Then you think I shall fall," said Nic ruefully.
"Certainly, if you lose your balance and do not hold tight." "But you told me not to hold!" cried Nic.
"With your hands.

They are to hold your reins and gun.

A horseman holds on with his knees; and I suppose yours are a bit sore ?" Nic nodded.
"Then make up your mind not to fall; but we'll have that gun empty first.

You shall have a shot at something." Nic drew rein sharply, and his horse stopped and shook its head, and champed the bit impatiently.
"Don't check your horse like that, boy!" "I only pulled the reins, father." "Yes, as if his mouth were made of wood.