"Not once."

"But you should not have let me sleep."

"I ordered them to," said Mrs Bedford, quietly. "Who needed rest more?"

At that moment Uncle Jack and Sam came round from the back, where they had been reconnoitring.

"Ah, Ned," said the former, "heard the news? Too good, I'm afraid, to be true."

"Yes, yes; don't let's put any faith in it," said the captain, and he went out, gla.s.s in hand, to scan every patch of scrub.

"Not a sign of them; no fire. But--" He looked round again before finishing his sentence:

"No sheep--no cattle."

"Not a hoof left," said Uncle Munday, grimly. "But that is the most hopeful sign."

"What do you mean?" said his brother.

"They seem to have driven everything away, and gone off with them into the bush."

The captain did not speak, nor relax the watchfulness kept up, but as the day wore on various little things were done to increase the strength of the place, and one of these was to saw off a portion of a spiked harrow which Sam German had made, and force this up into the chimney some six feet above the fire, and secure it there with big nails driven between the stones of the chimney, thus guarding against danger in that direction.

Cows, sheep, pigs, all were gone; but the fowls and ducks were about the place and not likely to be driven away, so that there was no fear of a failure in the supply of food; in fact, they felt that they could hold out in that way for months. For if a fowl could not be caught from its night perch, it could be shot by day and caught up. The danger was the want of water.

So far there was plenty in the tubs, but they dare not use it for washing purposes. It was too valuable, and the captain's brow grew dark as he thought of how they were to fetch more from the river or falls.

"We shall have to go away from here, boys," Tim said, towards evening.

"This place will never seem safe again."

"Father won't go," said Rifle. "He never gives up. I wouldn't, after getting such an estate as this. Why, it would be worth thousands upon thousands in England."

"And it's worth nothing here if the blacks spear us."

"They'd better!" cried Rifle, defiantly. "They've had enough of us.

You see, they will not trouble us again."

"There!" he cried, the next morning, triumphantly, Lor they had pa.s.sed a perfectly peaceful night; "the beggars are all gone."

The captain, who was using his gla.s.s, heard the boys' words and looked round.

"Don't be too sure, my lad," he said, sadly. "But thank Heaven for this respite."

"Oh, we'll beat them off again, father, if they do come," said the boy, boastfully; and then he coloured beneath his father's steadfast gaze.

"Don't act in that spirit for all our sakes, my lad," said the captain.

"All of you mind this: the watchfulness must not be relaxed even, for a moment. Ah! I'd give something if that fellow Shanter had been staunch. He could have relieved our anxiety in a very short time."

"Let me go and see if I can discover any signs of them, father," said Norman.

"What would you say if I tell you I am going?" replied the captain, quietly.

"No, no," cried the boys in chorus. "You might be speared."

"Exactly," said the captain. "No, boys, we are no match for the blacks in trying to track them down."

"They are adepts at hiding, and we might pa.s.s through a patch of scrub without seeing a soul, when perhaps a dozen might be in hiding."

"I wish poor old Shanter was here," sighed Rifle.

"Yes: he would be invaluable," said Uncle Jack. That night pa.s.sed in peace, and the next, giving them all such a feeling of security that even the captain began to think that the lesson read to the enemy had been sufficient to make them drive off their plunder and go; while, when the next day came, plans were made for a feint to prove whether the blacks were still anywhere near; and if it was without result, an attempt was to be made to refill the tubs. The next day some of the vigilance was to be relaxed, and avoiding his wife's eyes as he spoke, the captain said, aloud:

"And then we must see if it is not possible to renew our stock, for none of the poor creatures are likely to stray back home. Not even a horse.--Boys," he said, suddenly, "I'm afraid your friend has to answer for this attack. The love of the horses was too strong for him."

Another twenty-four hours of peace followed, but at the last minute the captain had shrunk from sending down to the nearest point of the river for water, which could only be dragged up by hand after the water-tub had been filled.

Then night came on once more.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

"IT WAS POOR OLD SHANTER."

As was their custom now, the boys were outside pa.s.sing the telescope from one to the other for a final look round, while the ladies cl.u.s.tered by the open door, loth to leave it for the closeness of their room, when the captain came round from the back and gave orders for closing.

"I think we will try to run down a tub to the water in the morning, boys," he said. "There surely cannot be any danger now. I have been on the roof trying to make out a fire anywhere in the bush, and there is not a sign."

He went in after the ladies, and, as Tim put it, the drawbridge was pulled up and the portcullis lowered; but just as the door was half-way to, Norman caught hold.

"Look!" he whispered hoa.r.s.ely; "what's that?"

The others craned their necks over the stout plank which crossed the door, and gazed at something dark away in the lower pasture toward the river.

Then they drew back, Norman closed the door, and began securing it, while Tim ran to the inner room.

"Come and help to fasten this, uncle," he said quietly.

"Eh? Yes, my boy," said the captain, following him, and Tim seized his arm.

"Quick!" he whispered, "they're coming on again in front."

The captain seized gun and ammunition; Uncle Jack and Sam German were roused from sleep, which was to last till they came on duty to watch; a few imperative words were uttered to the ladies; and once more everyone was at his post, waiting with beating heart for the attack. But it did not come.

An hour had pa.s.sed, then another, and when the captain whisperingly asked whether the boys were sure, and whether they might not have been deceived, and taken the black shadows of evening or a depression of the ground for an enemy, they began to think that they must have been mistaken. So the captain went to the back to speak to Uncle Jack and Sam German, who were there that night, the latter solacing himself with a pipe of tobacco, which he was smoking while his companion watched.

"A false alarm, I think, Jack," said the captain. "So much the better."

"But I don't mind. It shows how thoroughly the boys are on the Alert,"