The sun was nearly ready to dip when the sleepers rose and prepared for the evening meal. The cows had been milked and gone quietly away; and, trying hard to look cheerful, Mrs Bedford summoned all but German and Rifle to the table, where there was no sign of diminution of the supply as yet.

This was the one pleasant hour of the day, for experience had taught them that the blacks would run no risk of coming within range of the deadly guns till after dark, and the heat was giving place to the coolness of eve, while soon after the door would have to be closed.

As they gathered round, after the captain had said a few words to the sentries, Aunt Georgie, who had filled a tin with milk, cut a large piece of damper baked that day on the wood ashes, and went to the door.

"Here, Shanter," she said.

Then they heard her call again, but there was no reply. "Where's Shanter, Rifle?" she cried.

"I don't know, aunt. I've not seen him since I had my sleep. He was squatting just here before I went to lie down."

German had not seen him since. n.o.body had seen him since. The last every one had seen of him was when he was seated on his heels with his spear across his knees.

"Asleep somewhere," said Uncle Jack. "Go on with your suppers, good folks. I'll soon find him."

"Don't go away from round the house, Jack," cried the captain, anxiously.

"No. Trust me," was the reply; and the meal went on till Uncle Jack came back to say that Shanter was nowhere in sight.

The announcement sent a chill through all, and the question was discussed in whispers whether he had crept away to reconnoitre, and been surprised by the enemy and speared.

There was no more appet.i.te that evening, and the remains of the meal were cleared away, with the captain and Uncle Jack standing outside reconnoitring in turns with the gla.s.s, sweeping the edge of grove and scrub, and seeing no danger, only that the cattle were quietly grazing a little, and then, after a few mouthfuls, edging farther away.

"Seen anything of him, father?" said Rifle, eagerly.

"No," was the sharp reply.

Norman came out with Tim, each a gun in hand, to ask the same question, and look wonderingly at the captain when his reply was abrupt and stern.

The sun sank; evening was coming on, with its dark shadows, and those which were human of a far darker dye; and after a final look round at the shutters, indented and pitted with spear holes, the captain said sternly, "In every one: it is time this door was closed."

"But Shanter, father; he is not here," cried Rifle, while his brother and cousin looked at the captain excitedly.

"And will not be," said the latter, in a deep stern voice. "Now, German, ready with the bars? It's getting dark enough for them to make a rush."

"Father, you don't think he is killed?" whispered Norman, in an awe-stricken voice.

"No; but I am sure that he has forsaken us."

"What?" cried Rifle. "Oh no!"

"Yes, boy; his manner the last two days had taught me what to expect.

He has done wonders, but the apparent hopelessness of the struggle was too much for a savage, and he has gone."

"Not to the enemy, father, I'm sure," cried Norman.

"Well then, to provide for his own safety."

"I fancied I saw a black making signs to him yesterday, sir," said German.

"Then why did you not speak?" cried the captain, angrily.

"Wasn't sure, sir," replied German, sulkily.

"Ugh! you stupid old Sourkrout!" muttered Tim.

The door was closed with a sharp bang, bars and barriers put up, chests pushed against it, and with sinking hearts the boys prepared for the night's hard toil, feeling that one of the bravest among them had gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

"HOW MANY DID YOU BRING DOWN?"

"I won't believe it," whispered Rifle, angrily. "Father always doubted him. Poor old Shanter has been speared."

There was a sob in his throat as he uttered those last words, and then a terrible silence fell upon them.

"Have you boys placed the cask and chest in the fireplace?" said the captain out of the darkness.

There was a rush to the chimney, and the dangerous spot was blocked up, each working hard to make up for what seemed to be a dangerous neglect on his part.

"But suppose poor old Shanter comes back," whispered Tim, "and tries to get in that way when he finds the door fastened."

"He wouldn't come near in the dark," said Norman with a sigh; and then to himself, "even if he was alive."

Once more silence where the three boys were guarding the back of the premises, and then there was a faint rustling noise, followed by the sharp _click_, _click_ of guns being c.o.c.ked.

"Who's that?" whispered Rifle.

"Only I, my boys," said Mrs Bedford in a low voice, and she kissed each in turn, and clung to the st.u.r.dy lads for a few moments. "Your father wishes me to go now and leave you. G.o.d bless and protect you!"

She stole away again, and the two girls came in turn to say good-night, and then go away again to watch or sleep as they could.

"I don't care," muttered Tim, rebelliously. "I say Shanter wouldn't go and sneak away like that."

"And so do I, my dear," said Aunt Georgie. "He was only a savage, but he had grown as faithful as a dog, and so we told your father, but he's as stubborn as--"

"Aunt," cried the captain, "what are you doing here?"

"To your room, please. You are hindering the boys from keeping proper watch."

"Good-night; G.o.d bless you, my dears!" whispered Aunt Georgie, in a husky whisper. "It's very dreadful, but I'm sure he is killed."

"Look out!" whispered Norman, a short time after. "It isn't quite so dark, and I can see some one moving. Shall I fire?"

"No. It may be Shanter."

It was not. A few minutes later Norman had a narrow escape from death, for a spear was thrust through the loophole, and a shot being fired in reply, half a dozen spears came rattling at the thick shutter; and this time the boys distinctly heard the black fellows come softly up and drag their weapons out of the wood, just as they were alarmed by a fresh attempt to enter by the chimney, and some one on the roof was trying to tear up the shingles.