Victory was won for the time being; and as the two groups drew back
toward the shelter of the scrub, they could be seen carrying the wounded
and those who had fallen. Ten minutes later they were close up to the
trees, when a thought struck the captain.
"Quick, Norman, unbar that door. Marian, every one there, keep close.
No one is to come out." He then called to German, who followed him into
the kitchen, and together they bore out the bodies of the two blacks who
had obtained an entrance, one of them still showing signs of life.
They carried one at a time some distance out into the open, having the
satisfaction of seeing that the enemy had halted and were watching them,
while by the time the second body was lowered on to the grass, the
blacks were returning at a swift run.
But long before they were near the besieged were back in shelter, and
the enemy, as they came up, contented themselves by yelling and making
threatening gestures with their spears before retiring, once more
bearing off their two companions.
"And now for preparations for the night attack," said the captain,
quietly. "Why, boys, it was like regular warfare. Your advance
compelled the enemy to develop his strength and forced on a general
engagement.--Come girls, all of you, and have a little fresh air before
dark."
And as the door was opened and the fresh evening breeze floated in to
waft away the horrible dank odour of burnt gunpowder, it seemed hardly
possible to believe that so deadly an encounter could have occurred
lately, and no one on their side been even scratched.
"But I should have liked to save some of that mutton," said Rifle,
thoughtfully. "It is quite time we had a change."
The hour came for barricading the door only too soon, and once more the
watch commenced, half of the tiny garrison lying down, while Aunt
Georgie and one of the girls pressed for leave to share the watch,
urging that they were not weary, and would perhaps be able to detect by
eye or ear the approach of danger.
The captain, who was nearly exhausted by his efforts, reluctantly
consented, and lay down for a few minutes, giving orders that he should
be called at the slightest alarm, and a few minutes after--as he
believed--he sprang up looking puzzled and confused.
For the door was wide open, the morning sun shining in, and there was
the sharp crackling of a fire, and the smell of baking bread.
"What is the meaning of this?" he said.
"Only that you've slept all night, father, and never moved," cried
Rifle, merrily.
"But I gave orders to be called at the slightest alarm."
"And there never was the slightest alarm," cried the boy,
joyfully.--"Hi! Man--Tim--father's awake."
Norman and his cousin came to the door gun in hand.
"See anything?" cried Rifle.
"No.--Morning, father.--I believe they've gone."
"Impossible! But you have not heard them all night?"
"Not once."
"But you should not have let me sleep."
"I ordered them to," said Mrs Bedford, quietly. "Who needed rest
more?"
At that moment Uncle Jack and Sam came round from the back, where they
had been reconnoitring.
"Ah, Ned," said the former, "heard the news? Too good, I'm afraid, to
be true."
"Yes, yes; don't let's put any faith in it," said the captain, and he
went out, glass in hand, to scan every patch of scrub.
"Not a sign of them; no fire. But--" He looked round again before
finishing his sentence:
"No sheep--no cattle."
"Not a hoof left," said Uncle Munday, grimly. "But that is the most
hopeful sign."
"What do you mean?" said his brother.
"They seem to have driven everything away, and gone off with them into
the bush."
The captain did not speak, nor relax the watchfulness kept up, but as
the day wore on various little things were done to increase the strength
of the place, and one of these was to saw off a portion of a spiked
harrow which Sam German had made, and force this up into the chimney
some six feet above the fire, and secure it there with big nails driven
between the stones of the chimney, thus guarding against danger in that
direction.
Cows, sheep, pigs, all were gone; but the fowls and ducks were about the
place and not likely to be driven away, so that there was no fear of a
failure in the supply of food; in fact, they felt that they could hold
out in that way for months. For if a fowl could not be caught from its
night perch, it could be shot by day and caught up. The danger was the
want of water.
So far there was plenty in the tubs, but they dare not use it for
washing purposes. It was too valuable, and the captain's brow grew dark
as he thought of how they were to fetch more from the river or falls.
"We shall have to go away from here, boys," Tim said, towards evening.
"This place will never seem safe again."
"Father won't go," said Rifle. "He never gives up. I wouldn't, after
getting such an estate as this. Why, it would be worth thousands upon
thousands in England."
"And it's worth nothing here if the blacks spear us."
"They'd better!" cried Rifle, defiantly. "They've had enough of us.
You see, they will not trouble us again."
"There!" he cried, the next morning, triumphantly, Lor they had passed a
perfectly peaceful night; "the beggars are all gone."
The captain, who was using his glass, heard the boys' words and looked
round.
"Don't be too sure, my lad," he said, sadly. "But thank Heaven for this
respite."
"Oh, we'll beat them off again, father, if they do come," said the boy,
boastfully; and then he coloured beneath his father's steadfast gaze.
"Don't act in that spirit for all our sakes, my lad," said the captain.
"All of you mind this: the watchfulness must not be relaxed even, for a
moment. Ah! I'd give something if that fellow Shanter had been
staunch. He could have relieved our anxiety in a very short time."
"Let me go and see if I can discover any signs of them, father," said
Norman.
"What would you say if I tell you I am going?" replied the captain,
quietly.
"No, no," cried the boys in chorus. "You might be speared."
"Exactly," said the captain. "No, boys, we are no match for the blacks
in trying to track them down."
"They are adepts at hiding, and we might pass through a patch of scrub
without seeing a soul, when perhaps a dozen might be in hiding."
"I wish poor old Shanter was here," sighed Rifle.
"Yes: he would be invaluable," said Uncle Jack. That night passed in
peace, and the next, giving them all such a feeling of security that
even the captain began to think that the lesson read to the enemy had
been sufficient to make them drive off their plunder and go; while, when
the next day came, plans were made for a feint to prove whether the
blacks were still anywhere near; and if it was without result, an
attempt was to be made to refill the tubs. The next day some of the
vigilance was to be relaxed, and avoiding his wife's eyes as he spoke,
the captain said, aloud:
"And then we must see if it is not possible to renew our stock, for none
of the poor creatures are likely to stray back home. Not even a
horse.--Boys," he said, suddenly, "I'm afraid your friend has to answer
for this attack. The love of the horses was too strong for him."
Another twenty-four hours of peace followed, but at the last minute the
captain had shrunk from sending down to the nearest point of the river
for water, which could only be dragged up by hand after the water-tub
had been filled.
Then night came on once more.