where I come from we are n't accustomed to being ridden over roughshod by any parrot-mouthed, pig-headed mule in a pop-gun pea-shooter battery. Are you ready?"
"On your hind legs!" squealed Billy. They both reared up facing each other, and I was expecting a furious fight, when a gurgly, rumbly voice called out of the darkness to the right—"Children, what are you fighting about there? Be quiet."
Both beasts dropped down with a snort of disgust, for neither horse nor mule can bear to listen to an elephant's voice.
"It 's Two Tails!" said the troop-horse. "I can't stand him. A tail at each end is n't fair!"
"My feelings exactly," said Billy, crowding into the troop-horse for company. "We 're very alike in some things."
"I suppose we 've inherited them from our mothers," said the troop-horse. "It 's not worth quarreling about. Hi! Two Tails, are you tied up?"
"Yes," said Two Tails, with a laugh all up his trunk. "I 'm picketed for the night. I 've heard what you fellows have been saying. But don't be afraid. I 'm not coming over."
The bullocks and the camel said, half aloud:
