"Yohi. Horse fellow tick um toe along."

"Yes; there is a faint mark of a hoof," said Norman in delight; and with rising spirits they went on again, to sight the Wallaby Range and strike Dingo Station just at dusk on the following night, after missing the track again and again on the previous day; while on this, the last of their return journey, Shanter marked down hills and mountains which were familiar, so that they made extra speed, and it was necessary, for they reached home nearly starved.

It is needless to tell of the joy at the wanderers' return, save that Mrs Bedford's face showed the agony she must have suffered, while Aunt Georgie had a severe scolding in store.

But all that was soon over. Shanter had gone off to a favourite nook of his to digest damper, and the boys had about wearied themselves out telling of their adventures, and of how wonderfully Shanter had recovered during the last few days.

"Yes, it is wonderful," said the captain. "I suppose the way in which they get over dangerous wounds is more wonderful still. Poor fellow! he must have had a horrible squeeze, and the drowning, no doubt, acted like a shock. I wish, though, you had thought to bring home the old man's skin."

"Yes, we ought to have done that," said Norman, "for Tim's sake."

"But we had enough to do to bring home Shanter."

"Ay, that they had," cried Uncle Jack. "I don't know what Sam German would have done without him."

"Why, he always grumbles at him for a lazy n.i.g.g.e.r," said the captain.

"Yes, but he likes him all the same."

"So we all do," chorused the boys.

"He can't help being black," said Tim.

"No," said the captain; "but you have said nothing about the camps of black fellows you struck."

"Because we did not find any, father," cried Rifle.

"Humph!" said the captain. "Strange! There must be very few in these parts, but I always feel that we shall run against them some day."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

"WE'LL FIND 'EM."

The troubles of the expedition had died out to such an extent that there was some talk of another, the captain saying that for exploring reasons he should head this himself.

Just then Uncle Jack kicked his foot under the table, and the captain looked up to see such a look of agony in his wife's face that the subject dropped.

All was going on admirably, oxen and sheep were increasing, the garden was flourishing, and Dingo Station was daily growing more and more the home of peace and plenty.

"Ah, Jack," said the captain to his brother, as they sat one evening smoking tobacco of their own growing, "if it were not for the thoughts of the black fellows, what a paradise this would be!"

"Perhaps the blacks say something of the kind respecting the whites."

"Why, we don't interfere with them."

"No; but I'm afraid others do."

But just at this time Aunt Georgie was a good deal exercised in her mind, and she confided her trouble and suspicions to the two girls, but bade them say not a word to Mrs Bedford.

"It would only worry her, and she has plenty of troubles over those wild, harum-scarum, neck-breaking, horse-riding boys."

But the next morning at breakfast she let the cat out of the bag.

"Flour? Stolen?" cried Mrs Bedford, excitedly.

"Oh, auntie!" cried the girls, reproachfully.

"Well, I didn't mean to say anything, but I'm quite sure that a quant.i.ty has been taken out of the tub three times lately," said Aunt Georgie, emphatically.

"Nonsense, aunt!" protested Hetty; "it's your fancy, or else Ida must have taken some without speaking."

"No," said Ida, quietly, "I have not touched it. If I had wanted some for cooking, I should have asked aunt for it."

"Of course you would, my dear, and I should not have spilled and wasted some on the floor."

"Had we not better tell Edward?" said Mrs Bedford. "No; don't worry him," said Aunt Georgie; "he has quite enough on his mind."

"The boys must have been at it for something," said Ida, quietly.

"Boys have been at what?" said Norman, who was with the others in the veranda as these words were said.

"Been taking the flour," said Hetty.

"What should we take the flour for?" cried Rifle, indignantly.

"No, my dears, I do not suspect you, and I am sorry to make the charge, for I have always thought Shanter lazy, but honest."

"Why, you don't mean to say you believe poor old Shanter would steal flour, do you, aunt?" said Rifle, indignantly.

"I regret it very much, my dear, but the flour has been stolen, some spilled on the floor, and there were the prints of wide-toed feet in the patch."

"Here, hi! Shanter, Tam o'!" cried Rifle. "Coo-ee!"

The black came running up with glistening face.

"Plenty mine come fast," he said.

"Here," cried Norman; "what for you come along steal flour?"

"Mine baal teal flour," cried the black, indignantly.

"Aunt says you have, two or three times."

"Baal teal flour," cried the black again.

"There, aunt," said Norman; "I told you he wouldn't."