Shanter nodded, finished his honey, and went to sleep till he was roused up, and the party started off once more.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

"DON'T SAY HE'S DEAD."

It was comparatively an aimless expedition the boys were making.

Certainly they were to note down any good sites for stations; but otherwise they roamed about almost wherever Shanter led them. Now it would be down some lovely creek, overhung by wide-spreading ferns, in search of fish; now to hunt out and slay dangerous serpents, or capture the carpet-snake, which the black looked upon as a delicacy. Twice over they came across the lyre-tailed pheasant; but the birds escaped uninjured, so that they did not secure the wonderful tail-feathers for a trophy.

The last time Tim had quite an easy shot with both barrels, and there was a roar of laughter when the bird flew away amongst the dense scrub.

"Well, you are a shot!" cried Norman.

"Shanter plenty mumkull that fellow with boomerang," said the black, scornfully.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," said Tim, reloading coolly. "The feathers would only have been a bother to carry home."

"Sour grapes," said Rifle, laughing.

"Oh, all right," replied Tim; "perhaps you'll miss next. Why--"

Tim stopped short, with the little shovel of his shot-belt in his hand, as he felt the long leathern eel-shaped case carefully.

"What's the matter?" said Norman.

"You feel here," cried his cousin.

"Well," said Norman, running his hand along the belt, "what of it?"

"Full, isn't it?" said Tim.

"Yes. Quite full."

"You're sure it's quite full?"

"Oh yes."

"Then I didn't put any shot in my gun, that's all. I loaded after I came out this morning."

"Well, you are a pretty fellow," cried Rifle. "I shouldn't like to have to depend on you if we were attacked by black fellows."

"Black fellow," cried Shanter, sharply. "Baal black fellow. Plenty wallaby. Come along."

That day, though, they did not encounter any of that small animal of the kangaroo family, which were plentiful about the hills at home, but went journeying on along through the bush, with the gra.s.s-trees rising here and there with their mop-like heads and blossom-like spike. Even birds were scarce, and toward evening, as they were growing hungry and tired, and were seeking a satisfactory spot for camping, Tim let fall a remark which cast a damper on the whole party.

"I say, boys," he exclaimed, "whereabouts are we?"

Norman looked at him, and a shade of uneasiness crossed his face, as he turned in his saddle.

"What made you say that?" he cried.

"I was only thinking that this place is very beautiful, but it seems to me all alike; and as if you might go on wandering for years and never get to the end."

"Nonsense!" said Rifle.

"But how are we going to find our way back?"

"Go by the sun," said Norman. "It would be easy enough. Besides we've got the compa.s.s, and we could find our way by that."

"Oh, could we?" said Tim; "well, I'm glad, because it seemed to me as if we've wandered about so that we might get lost."

"What, with Shanter here?" cried Rifle. "Nonsense! He couldn't lose himself."

"Want mine?" said the black, running back from where he was trudging beside the packhorse.

"How are we to find our way back?" said Tim. The black stared without comprehending. "Here, let me," said Rifle. "Hi, Shanter! Mine find big white Mary over there?" and he pointed.

"Baal fine big white Mary," cried the black, shaking his shock-head hard. "Big white Mary--Marmi dere."

He pointed in a contrary direction.

"How do you know?" said Rifle.

The black gave him a cunning look, stooped, and began to follow the footprints of the horses backward. Then turning, he laughed.

"Of course," said Norman. "How stupid of me! Follow the back track."

"But suppose it comes on to rain heavily, and washes the footmarks out.

How then?"

"Don't you croak," cried Norman, who was himself again. "Who says it's going to rain?"

"n.o.body," said Tim; "but it might."

"Pigs might fly," cried Rifle.

Just then Shanter gave a triumphant cry. He had come to a large water-hole, by which they camped for the night, and had the pleasure of seeing their tired horses drink heartily, and then go off to crop the abundant gra.s.s.

"Now, boys," said Norman that night, "I've something to tell you.

To-morrow we go forward half a day's journey, and then halt for two hours, and come back here to camp."

"Why?" cried Rifle.

"Because we have only just time to get back as father said."

"Why, we've only--"

"Been out eight days, boys," interrupted Norman; "and there's only just time to get back by going steadily."