"But we can't get back in time," argued Rifle. "We shall only have five days and a half."

"Yes we shall, if we don't make any stoppages."

"Oh, let's go on a bit farther; we haven't had hardly any fun yet,"

cried Rifle.

But Norman took the part of leader, and was inexorable.

"Besides," he said, "the stores will only just last out."

To make up for it, they started very early the next morning, so as to get as far away as possible before returning. Then came the mid-day halt, and the journey back to the water-hole, over what seemed to be now the most uninteresting piece of country they had yet traversed, and Shanter appeared to think so too.

"Baal black fellow; baal wallaby; baal snak.u.m. Mine want big damper."

"And mine must plenty wait till we get back to camp," said Norman, nodding at him, when the black nodded back and hastened the pace of the packhorse, whose load was next to nothing now, the stores having been left at the side of the water-hole.

It was getting toward sundown when the ridge of rocks, at the foot of which the deep pure water lay, came in sight; and Shanter, who was in advance, checked the horse he drove and waited for the boys to come up.

"Horse fellow stop along of you," he said; "mine go an' stir up damper fire."

"All right," replied Norman, taking the horse's rein, but letting it go directly, knowing that the patient would follow the others, while with a leap and a bound Shanter trotted off, just as if he had not been walking all the day.

"I am sorry it's all over," said Rifle, who was riding with his rein on his horse's neck and hands in his pockets. "We don't seem to have had half a holiday."

"It isn't all over," said Tim; "we've got full five days yet, and we may have all sorts of adventures. I wish, though, there were some other wild beasts here beside kangaroos and dingoes. I don't think Australia is much of a place after all."

"Hub!" cried Norman. "Look, old Tam has caught sight of game."

"Hurrah! Let's gallop," cried Rifle.

"No, no. Keep back. He's stalking something that he sees yonder.

There: he has gone out of sight. I daresay it's only one of those horrible snakes. What taste it is, eating snake!"

"No more than eating eels," said Rifle, drily. "They're only water-snakes. I say, though, come on."

"And don't talk about eating, please," cried Tim, plaintively; "it does make me feel so hungry."

"As if you could eat carpet-snake, eh?"

"Ugh!"

"Or kangaroo?" cried Rifle, excitedly, as they reached the top of one of the billowy waves of land which swept across the great plain. "Look, Shanter sees kangaroo. There they go. No, they're stopping. Hurrah!

kangaroo tail for supper. Get ready for a shot."

As he spoke he unslung his gun, and they cantered forward, closely followed by the packhorse, knowing that the curious creatures would see them, however carefully they approached, and go off in a series of wonderful leaps over bush and stone.

As they cantered on, they caught sight of Shanter going through some peculiar manoeuvre which they could not quite make out. But as they came nearer they saw him hurl either his boomerang or nulla-nulla, and a small kangaroo fell over, kicking, on its side.

"Shan't starve to-night, boys," cried Tim, who was in advance; and in another minute, with the herd of kangaroos going at full speed over the bushes, they were close up, but drew rein in astonishment at that which followed.

For as the boys sat there almost petrified, but with their horses snorting and fidgeting to gallop off to avoid what they looked upon as an enemy, and to follow the flying herd, they saw Shanter in the act of hurling his spear at a gigantic kangaroo--one of the "old men" of which they had heard stories--and this great animal was evidently making for the black, partly enraged by a blow it had received, partly, perhaps, to cover the flight of the herd.

The spear was thrown, but it was just as the old man was making a bound, and though it struck, its power of penetration was not sufficient, in an oblique blow, to make it pierce the tough skin, and to the boys' horror they saw the blunt wooden weapon fall to the earth. The next instant the kangaroo was upon Shanter, grasping him with its forepaws and hugging him tightly against its chest, in spite of the black's desperate struggles and efforts to trip his a.s.sailant up. There he looked almost like a child in the grasp of a strong man, and to make matters worse, the black had no weapon left, not even a knife, and he could not reach the ground with his feet.

Poor Shanter had heard the horses coming up, and now in his desperate struggle to free himself, he caught sight of Raphael.

"Boomer--mumkull!" he yelled in a half-suffocated voice. "Mumkull-- shoot, shoot."

The gun was c.o.c.ked and in the boy's hands, but to fire was impossible, for fear of hitting the black; while, when Norman rode close up, threw himself off his horse, and advanced to get a close shot, the kangaroo made vicious kicks at him, which fortunately missed, or, struck as he would have been by the animal's terrible hind-claw, Norman Bedford's career would, in all probability, have been at an end.

Then, in spite of Shanter's struggles and yells to the boys to shoot--to "mumkull" his enemy--the kangaroo began to leap as easily as if it were not burdened with the weight of a man; and quickly clearing the distance between them and the water-hole, plunged right in, and with the water flying up at every spring, shuffled at last into deep water.

Here, knowing the fate reserved for him, Shanter made another desperate struggle to escape; but he was wrestling with a creature nearly as heavy as a cow, and so formed by nature that it sat up looking a very pyramid of strength, being supported on the long bones of the feet, and kept in position by its huge tail; while the black, held as he was in that deadly hug, and unable to get his feet down, was completely helpless.

Without a moment's hesitation, Norman waded in after them to try to get an opportunity to fire; but the kangaroo struck out at him again with all the power of its huge leg, and though it was too far off for the blow to take effect, it drove up such a cataract of water as deluged the lad from head to foot, and sent him staggering back.

The next moment the object of the kangaroo was plain to the boys, for, as if endowed with human instinct, it now bent down to press poor Shanter beneath the water, and hold him there till he was drowned.

Rifle saw it, and pressing the sides of his horse, and battling with it to overcome its dread of the uncanny-looking marsupial, he forced it right in to the pool, and urged it forward with voice and hand, so as to get a shot to tell upon Shanter's adversary.

It was hard work, but it had this effect, that it took off the kangaroo's attention, so that there was a momentary respite for Shanter, the great brute rising up and raising the black's head above the water, so that he could breathe again, while, repeating its previous manoeuvre, the kangaroo kicked out at Rifle, its claw just touching the saddle.

That was enough, the horse reared up, fought for a few moments, pawing the air, and went over backwards. Then there was a wild splashing, and Rifle reached the sh.o.r.e without his gun, drenched, but otherwise unhurt, and the horse followed.

The black's fate would have been sealed, for, free of its a.s.sailants, the kangaroo plunged the poor helpless struggling fellow down beneath the surface, attentively watching the approach the while of a third enemy, and ready to launch out one of those terrible kicks as soon as the boy was sufficiently near.

"Oh, Tim, Tim, fire--fire!" cried Norman, as he saw his cousin wade in nearer and nearer: "Quick! quick! before Shanter's drowned."

Tim had already paused four yards away, and up to his armpits in water as he took careful aim, his hands trembling one moment, but firm the next, as the kangaroo, bending downward with the side of its head to him and nearly on a level with the water, which rose in violent ebullitions consequent upon Shanter's struggles, seemed to have a peculiar triumphant leer in its eyes, as if it were saying: "Wait a bit; it is your turn next."

It was all the work of a minute or so, but to the two boys on sh.o.r.e it seemed a horrible time of long suspense, before there was a double report, the triggers being pulled almost simultaneously. A tremendous spring right out of the water, and then a splash, which sent it flying in all directions, before it was being churned up by the struggling monster, now in its death throes; then, gun in one hand, Shanter's wrist in the other, Tim waded ash.o.r.e, dragging the black along the surface, set free as he had been when those two charges of small shot struck the side of the kangaroo's head like a couple of b.a.l.l.s and crushed it in.

Drenched as they were, the three boys got Shanter on to the gra.s.s, where he lay perfectly motionless, and a cold chill shot through all, as they felt that their efforts had been in vain, and that a famous slayer of kangaroos had met his end from one of the race. The sun was just on the horizon now, and the water looked red as blood, and not wholly from the sunset rays.

"Shanter, Shanter, old fellow, can't you speak?" cried Norman, as he knelt beside the black.

Just then there was a tremendous struggle in the water, which ceased as suddenly as it had begun.

"Man, don't say he's dead!" whispered Tim, in awe-stricken tones.

Norman made no reply, and Rifle bent softly over the inanimate black figure before him, and laid a hand upon the sufferer's breast.

"You were too late, Tim; too late," sighed Rifle. "I'd heard those things would drown people, but I didn't believe it till now. Oh, poor old Shanter! You were very black, but you were a good fellow to us all."

"And we ought to have saved you," groaned Norman.

"I wish we had never come," sighed Tim, as he bent lower. "Can't we do anything? Give him some water?"