"You need not trouble," said Uncle Jack, quietly, "for here he comes;"

and as the captain's brother spoke he c.o.c.ked his double gun.

"And here comes father," cried Norman, excitedly. "Don't fire, uncle, pray."

"Not if I can help it, boy, but look at the fellow; he has been painting himself, and means war."

In effect Shanter's black body was streaked with white, as if to imitate a skeleton, and as he came running toward them from the scrub below the precipice, he looked as if his spear was held threateningly in one hand, his club in the other.

As the black came running from one direction, the captain ran toward them from the other, shouting to Uncle Jack and the boys to fall back, while just then Sam German came out of the garden armed with a pitchfork, the first thing likely to act as a weapon.

But Shanter was the swiftest of foot, and he was within twenty yards, when Uncle Jack presented his piece and shouted: "Stop! Throw down that spear."

Shanter hesitated for a moment, and then dug the point of his spear into the ground, and ran up shouting: "Hi, Marmi, black fellow come along!

Kimmeroi--bulla, bulla--metancoly." (One, four, ever so many.)

The captain gazed at him suspiciously.

"Where?" he said.

"Black fellow all along," cried Shanter, who seemed to have quite forgotten the past night's quarrel and the blow, and he pointed in several directions across the precipitous ridge.

"You saw them?"

"Yohi. Run tell Marmi. Black fellow come all along, spear bull-cow."

Norman saw his father's brow contract, for the last words sounded very suspicious, and the lad asked himself whether this was a piece of cunning on the part of the black.

But just then Shanter caught sight of the spear lying upon the ground, where it had been thrown by the captain after he had drawn it from the cow's back.

The black made a dash and pounced upon it, his movement to secure the weapon putting both the captain and his brother on their guard, as they watched the fellow's movements.

As soon as he had the weapon in his hand, he examined the point, still wet with blood, looked sharply from one to the other, and then excitedly pointed to the spear end.

"How this fellow come along?" he cried.

"Some one threw it, and speared the little cow," cried Rifle.

"Where little bull-cow fellow--go bong?"

"No; in the paddock. Did you throw that spear, Shanter?"

"Mine throw? Baal!" cried the black. "Plenty mine spear," and he pointed to where his own spear stuck in the ground.

"I can't trust him, Rifle, my boy," said the captain, firmly. "I'm afraid it is his work, and this is a cunning way of throwing us off the scent."

The black listened eagerly, and partly comprehended.

"Marmi no pidney. Think mine spear bull-cow. Baal, baal throw."

He shook his head violently, and then running back and recovering the other spear--his own--he stood attentively watching the scrub, his eyes wandering along the ridge and from place to place as if in search of enemies.

"What do you say, Ned?" whispered Uncle Jack; "are you going to trust him?"

"No, I cannot yet," said the captain. "We must be thoroughly on our guard."

"The poor fellow has proved himself a faithful servant, though."

"What? That colt?"

"A boy's freak. He did not behave dishonestly."

"Well, I do not trust him yet Jack; but I may be wrong. Let's reconnoitre."

"Where all white Mary?" said Shanter, turning back suddenly.

"In the house," said Norman. "Why?"

"Black fellow metancoly all plenty. Come mumkull."

At that moment Mrs Bedford appeared at the door, and stepped out, but stopped as Shanter uttered a fierce yell and gesticulated, imitating the throwing of a spear and battering of some one's head.

"Baal white Mary come along," he cried, running to the captain. "Marmi say go along."

"Run and tell your mother and the rest to keep in the house," said the captain sharply to Rifle, and the black nodded in satisfaction; but he grew furious again, and seized the captain's arm as he made a movement toward the patch of scrub and trees which had concealed the blacks, when the raid was made upon the flour.

"Baal go along," he cried. "Hah!"

He threw himself into an att.i.tude as if about to hurl a spear, for just then, a couple of hundred yards away, a black figure was seen to dart from behind a solitary patch of bushes to run to the bigger one in front. As he reached the broader shelter another followed him, and another, and another, Shanter counting them as they ran.

"Kimmeroi--bulla-bulla, kimmeroi-bulla, bulla--bulla, bulla, kimmeroi."

"Five," said Norman, excitedly.

"Yohi," cried the black, nodding. "Marmi baal go along?"

"No," said the captain, quietly. "We had better retire to the house. I think we can give them a warm reception there."

"Shoot! Bang, bang!" cried Shanter, grinning. "Ow--ow--ow!"

He held his bands to his head after dropping his weapons as he yelled, ran round in a circle, staggered, fell, kicked a little, and lay quite still for a few moments as if dead. Then leaping up, he secured his weapons, shook them threateningly at the little grove, and urged all to go up to the house.

"We shall have to trust him," said the captain. "Come along, Jack.-- Now, boys, I'm afraid this is war in earnest, and the siege has begun."

"Plenty black fellow," shouted Shanter, excitedly, as he pointed in a fresh direction, where three or four heads were seen for a minute before they disappeared among the trees.

"And no time to be lost," cried the captain.--"German, while we can, go up and begin filling what tubs you can with water in case the enemy tries to cut off our supply. We will cover you."

"Right, sir," said the gardener, and he ran up to the house with his fork over his shoulder, while the others followed more leisurely, keeping a sharp look-out.