My brother
asked him if he was going far that way, to which he replied, "A goodish
bit," so we said we should be glad of his company; but he walked on
without speaking to us further. We pushed the remaining things in our
bags as quickly as possible, and hurried on after him. As we did not
overtake him, we stood still and listened attentively, though
fruitlessly, for not a footstep could we hear. We then accelerated our
pace to what was known as the "Irishman's Trig"--a peculiar step,
quicker than a walk, but slower than a run--and after going some
distance we stopped again to listen; but the only sound we could hear
was the barking of a solitary dog a long distance away. This was very
provoking, as we wanted to get some information about our road, which,
besides being rough, was both hilly and very lonely, and more in the
nature of a track than a road. Where the man could have disappeared to
was a mystery on a road apparently without any offshoots, so we
concluded he must have thought we contemplated doing him some bodily
harm, and had either "bolted" or "clapp'd," as my brother described it,
behind some rock or bush, in which case he must have felt relieved and
perhaps amused when he heard us "trigging" past him on the road.
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