"Mine want damper, Marmi. Gib big soff damper."

"I'll give you the whip, sir, if you don't go."

Shanter flinched, and gave himself another rub, looking about in the darkness from one to the other.

"Let me fetch him a bit of damper, father," whispered Rifle.

"No," said the captain, sternly. "The scoundrel has nearly ruined a fine young horse, and he must be taught a lesson.—Now, sir, be off!"

"Baal gib mine big damper?" cried the black.

"No; only the whip," said the captain, giving the thong a sharp crack, and then another and another in all directions near the black's naked shoulders, with the result that at every crack Shanter winced and leaped about.

"Marmi Man gib mine damper."

"I can't," said Norman.

"Marmi Rifle, Marmi Tim, gib mine damper."

"No—no—no," shouted the captain. "Now go and never come here again."

The black gave another writhe, as if smarting from the pain of the blow he had received, and ended by snatching boomerang and club from his waistband, uttering a fiercely defiant yell as he clattered them together, leaped the fence and darted off straight across the paddock, shouting as he rushed on toward the horses, and sending them in panic to the end of the enclosure.

"The scoundrel!" shouted the captain; "those horse will cripple themselves on the posts and rails. No; they're coming back again," he cried, as he heard the little herd come galloping round. "Steady there—woho—boys! Steady, woho there—woho!" he continued; and the horses gradually ceased their headlong flight, and turned and trotted gently toward the familiar voice.

The captain was joined by the boys, who all went toward the horses, patting and caressing them for a few minutes before leaving the paddock and going back toward the house.

"Now," said the captain; "who is to say that this black fellow will not come to-morrow night, or perhaps to-night, take out a rail or two, and drive off all our horses?"

"I can," said Norman.

"So can we," cried Rifle. "I don't believe old Shanter ever could steal."

"Well done, boys, for your belief in savage nature," cried Uncle Jack.—"No, Ned, you are wrong. I believe that the poor fellow is honest as the day."

"Thank you, uncle," whispered Tim.

"Well," said the captain, "we shall see. But I think I have let the poor fellow off very easily. I came out to-night meaning to give him a tremendous horse-whipping, but out of weakness and consideration for you boys' feelings, I've let him off with one cut."

"Enough too," said Uncle Jack, "for it was big enough for a dozen."

"Well, it was a tidy one," said the captain, laughing. "There, come back to the house. But no more black pets, boys. If you want to make companions, try the horses."

"And perhaps they'd run away with one."

"Or throw us."

"Or kick us."

So cried the boys one after another, and the captain uttered a grunt.

"Look here," he said; "I'm not going to sit up and watch to-night, but if those horses are driven off by that black scoundrel, I'll hunt him down with a gun."

"Not you, Ned," said Uncle Jack, with a chuckle.

"Don't you believe him, boys."

"We don't, uncle," they chorused.

"Ah, well," said the captain, laughing; "we shall see."



CHAPTER TWENTY.

"WE SHALL HAVE TO TRUST HIM."

"Whatever is the matter with that cow?" cried Aunt Georgie, as they sat at their evening meal the next day. "Why is she lowing like that? It's my poor Jersey, and—goodness gracious, what is the matter with her tail?"

"Tail!" shouted the captain, springing up as the cow came clumsily cantering up, followed by all the rest of the cattle, who added their lowing to the Jersey's mournful bellow. "Tail! Here, quick, Jack— boys, the guns; the poor creature has been speared."

It was plain enough. Speared, and badly, for the weapon stood firmly just in front of the poor animal's tail, in spite of the frantic gallop in which she had sought for relief.

"I can't leave the poor beast like this, Jack," cried the captain. "Cover me if you see any one stealing up. No; there is no need. I can see it all plainly enough."

The cow did not run away from him as he went close up, and with a sharp tug dragged out the clumsy weapon, tearing his handkerchief afterward to plug the horrible wound.

"Will she get better, father?" asked Norman.

"I hope so, boy. I don't think the point can have reached any vital part. But you see, don't you?"

"Only the wound, father. What do you mean?"

"I'm afraid this is your friend Shanter's bit of revenge for my blow."

"Oh no, father," cried Rifle, indignantly. "Poor old Tam o' Shanter would not be such a brute."

The captain smiled, and shrugged his shoulders. "Here, let's get all the beasts into the enclosure," he said. "We do not want any more to be speared;" and sending two of the boys forward to open the rails, the cow was gently driven in, the rest of the stock following patiently enough to the very last.

"Well," said Uncle Jack, emphatically, "I don't think I'm a vicious man, but I honestly wish that the vile wretch who threw that spear had been well gored by the animal in return."

"So do I, uncle," cried Rifle, warmly, "for I'm sure it wasn't Shanter.—What do you think, Tim?"

"I don't know," replied the boy. "I hope it wasn't; but as Uncle Edward says, it does look very black."

"Bah! You're black," cried Rifle, fiercely.—"You don't think it was Shanter, do you, Man?"

"I don't want to think it was," replied his brother, thoughtfully, "but it does look very bad."

This was while the captain had walked up to the house to order the ladies to stay within doors, promising in return that he would be very careful, and not run into any danger.

"Looks very bad!" cried Rifle, contemptuously. "I only wish I knew where old Shanter was. I'd go and fetch him to make him tell you that you ought all to be ashamed of yourselves."

"You need not trouble," said Uncle Jack, quietly, "for here he comes;" and as the captain's brother spoke he cocked 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 attitude 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.

"Come along," cried Shanter, as they reached the house. "Shut fass. Black fellow baal come along. Big white Mary gib mine damper now."

Five minutes later he was eating some bread with a contented smile on his countenance, while Tim and Norman kept watch, and the others busied themselves closing the shutters and carrying in blocks and slabs of wood, reserved for such an emergency, and now used as barricades for windows and loop-holed doors.

All worked vigorously, provisions were rolled in from the storehouse, though that was so near that its door could be commanded if a fresh supply was required. Fence gates were closed and fastened, the water-supply augmented, and at last the captain turned to the pale-faced women who had been helping with all their strength, and said:

"There, we need not fear blacks a hundred strong. All we have to do now is to come in, shut and bar the door, roll two or three of the casks against it, and laugh at them."

"But I don't feel happy about my kitchen," said Aunt Georgie.

"No: that is our weakest place," said the captain; "but I'll soon set that right.—See anything of them, boys?" he cried to the sentries.

"No, not a sign."

"Metancoly black fellow all along a trees," said Shanter, jumping up, for he had finished his damper.

"Can you see them?" cried the captain.

"Baal see black fellow. Plenty hide."

He illustrated his meaning by darting behind a barrel and peering at the captain, so that only one eye was visible.

"Yes, I see," cried the captain. "Get up.—Now, good folks, some dinner. I'm hungry. Cheer up. We can beat them off if they attack, which I hope they will not."

"So do I," said Norman in a whisper to Rifle; "but if they do come, we must fight."

"Yes," said Rifle; "but they will not come fair. I'm afraid they'll try to take us by surprise."

"Let 'em," said Tim, scornfully. "If they do, we must try and surprise them."



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

"THINK YOU CAN HIT A BLACK?"

A long anxious afternoon of watching, but the blacks made no sign, and upon Shanter being referred to, he replied coolly: "Plenty come along when piggi jump down, all no see."

Tim shuddered at the black's coolness.

"Make shoot bang. Black fellow run along holler—ow!"

"He doesn't seem to mind a bit," whispered Tim.

"Don't know the danger, I suppose," said Norman. "I say, boys, how long could we hold out?"

"Always," said Rifle. "Or till we had eaten all the cattle."

"If the blacks don't spear them and drive them away."

As the afternoon wore on the conversation grew less frequent, and all waited, wondering whether the blacks would attack them or try to drive off the cattle. Guns were laid ready; ammunition was to hand, and the captain seemed to have quite thrown aside his suspicions of the black, who, on his side, had apparently forgotten the cut across his shoulder, though a great weal was plainly to be seen.

In spite of bad appetites there had been two meals prepared.

"Men can't fight on nothing, wife," the captain said; and then seeing the frightened looks of Mrs Bedford and the girls, he added with a merry laugh: "If they have to fight. Bah! if the black scoundrels come on, it only means a few charges of swan-shot to scatter them, and give them a lesson they will never forget."

Soon after this the captain and Uncle Jack went outside with the glass to sweep the edge of the scrub and the ridge, as well as every patch of trees, leaving the boys alone in the back part of the house to keep watch there.

"I say," said Rifle, in a low tone, "it's all very well for father to talk like that to them, but he doesn't think a charge of swan-shot will scatter the blacks, or else he wouldn't have the bullets ready."

"No," replied Norman, quietly. "He looks very serious about it all."

"Enough to make him," said Tim; "after getting all this place so beautiful, to have a pack of savages coming and interfering.—I say, Shanter, think the savages are gone?"

"Mine no pidney," said Shanter, starting up from where he had been squatting in one corner.

"Are the black fellows gone?"

"Baal black fellow gone along. Wait till piggi jump down and can't see."

"Think so? Come along all dark?" said Rifle. "Yohi. Come along, get flour, numkull chicken fellow. Make big fight."

Norman frowned.

"Mine glad Marmi Rifle. Mine like plenty stop along here."

"Well, I don't," grumbled Rifle. "I don't like it at all. I say, Man, don't you wish we were all safe somewhere else?"

"Yes. No," said Norman, shortly; "we mustn't be cowards now."

"'Tisn't cowardly not to want to fight like this," grumbled Rifle. "If I shoot, perhaps I shall kill a black fellow. I don't want to kill a black fellow."

Shanter nodded admiringly, for he did not quite grasp the speech.

"Kill a black fellow," he said. "Mumkull. Go bong."

"Oh, bother; I wish he wouldn't muddle what a fellow means. I say, Tim, feel frightened?"

"Horribly," replied Tim. "I say, I hope they will not come."

"Perhaps they will not," said Norman. "If they do, it may only mean to drive away some of the cattle."

"Well, father don't want his cattle driven away, does he?"

"Don't talk so," said Norman, who was standing with his face to a small square window, which he reached by standing on a case. "I say, come here, Tim."

The boy went and stood by him.

"Look straight along the garden fence, and see if that isn't something moving; there, by those bushes."

Tim looked intently for a few moments, and shook his head.

"No," he said; "it's getting too dim. What's that?"

"Only father and uncle," said Rifle, for just then their elders entered the house, and closed and fastened the door before coming into the back room.

"It's getting so dark, boys, that we'll trust to the place now to protect us. Close that window all but the narrow slit. Are the other windows fast?"

"Yes, father," said Norman; "all but the loopholes in our bedroom and the kitchen. Think they'll come?"

"Can't say, boy; but we think it is not wise to risk a spear from some fellow who has crawled up."

"Black fellow crawl up," said Shanter, as Norman secured the window.

"They had better stay away," said the captain, gravely. "Poor wretches, it is very horrible to have to fire at their unprotected bodies. If they would only keep away."

The captain cast an eye over the defences, and at the boys' weapons before going to the girls' bedroom, which stood a little higher than the other rooms of the house, and being considered the safest spot in the stronghold, the ladies were all gathered there.

Here the boys could hear him talking cheerily as the place grew darker and darker, for the fire in the kitchen had been extinguished, and lights were of course forbidden. From the front room by the door came the low murmur of voices, where Uncle Munday and Sam German sat together, the latter now armed with a gun, though his pitchfork was placed beside him, as if even now he might require it for his defence.

At last, wearied out with sitting in one position, Rifle rose and went to the door, where his uncle and Sam German were keeping watch.

"Think you can hit a black, Sam?" whispered Rifle, after a few words with his uncle.

"Dunno, Master Rifle; but I have hit sparrers afore now, and brought down a rabbit."

"Oh!" ejaculated Rifle. Then after a pause. "I say, Sam, which did you put in first, the powder or shot?"

"There, it's of no good your trying to be funny, my lad," whispered back the gardener, "because it won't do. You feel as unked as I do, I'm sewer. What I says is, I wish it was to-morrow mornin'."

"Or else that they would come, German, and let us get it over," said a voice out of the darkness, which made them start. "The suspense is painful, but keep a good heart.—Raphael, boy, you ought to be at your post. Mind and report every sound you hear."

"Yes, father," said the boy, who crept back to the room he had left, but not without going to the bedroom door, and whispering sharply, "It's all right, mother. We'll take care of you."

He did not wait for a reply, but crept into the backroom, where all was silent, and he went from thence into the long lean-to kitchen, with its big stone fireplace and chimney.

"Pist! you there, boys?"

"Yes; mind how you come. Your gun's standing up in the corner by the fireplace. We're going to sit here, and take it in turns for one to watch at the window slit."

Then after making out by touch where the others were placed, and nearly falling over Shanter, who was squatting, enjoying the warmth which came from the hearthstone to his bare feet, the boy seated himself on a rough bench by his gun, and all was silent as well as dark. From time to time the captain came round—in each case just after they had changed watches at the window loophole—but neither Norman, his cousin, nor brother had anything to report, and he went away again, after telling them the last time that all was well, and that he thought their sister and cousin had gone off to sleep.

Then there was the same oppressive darkness and silence once more, a heavy breathing by the still warm fireplace, suggesting that Shanter, well refreshed with damper, had gone to sleep, and the boys instinctively shrank from disturbing him for fear he should start into wakefulness, and lay about him with his nulla-nulla.

It must have been nearly twelve o'clock, when Norman was wishing that the Dutch clock in the corner had not been stopped on account of its striking, for the silence was growing more and more painful, and he was wondering how it would be possible to keep up for hours longer. He felt no desire for sleep; on the contrary, his nerves were strained to their greatest tension, and he could hear sounds outside as if they had been magnified—the chirp of some grasshopper-like insect, or the impatient stamp of a horse in the enclosure, being quite startling.

But there was nothing to report. He could easily find an explanation for every sound, even to the creaking noise which he felt sure was caused by one of the cows rubbing itself against the rough fence.

Rifle was watching now at the narrow slit, but there was nothing to see, "except darkness," he whispered to his brother, "and you can't see that."

And then, as he sat there for another half-hour, Norman began once more to envy the black, who seemed to be sleeping easily and well, in spite of the danger which might be lurking so near.

But he was misjudging the black: Shanter was never more wide awake in his life, and the proof soon came. All at once there was a faint rustling from near the fireplace apparently, and Rifle turned sharply, but did not speak, thinking that Norman and his cousin had changed places.

Norman heard the sound too, and gave the credit to Tim, who in turn made sure that his cousin had lain down to sleep. So no one spoke, and the rustling was heard again, followed now sharply by a quick movement, a horrible yell, a rushing sound, and then the sickening thud of a heavy blow. Before the boys could quite grasp what it meant, there was a sharp rattling, as if a big stick was being rapidly moved in the chimney, then another yell, a fresh rattling as of another great stick against the stone sides of the chimney, with a heavy thumping overhead.

Norman grasped the position now in those quick moments, and, gun in hand, dashed to the chimney, cannoning against Rifle and then against some one else, for he had tripped over a soft body. Before he could recover himself there was a deafening roar, and the sour odour of powder began to steal to his nostrils as he listened to a rustling sound as of something rolling over the split wood slabs which roofed the place, followed by a heavy fall close under the window.

"What is it, boys?" cried the captain at the door, for all had passed so rapidly that the episode was over before he reached the kitchen.

"Black fellow come along," said Shanter, quietly. "Mine mumkull."

"Through the window?" cried the captain, reproachfully, advancing into the kitchen. "Oh, boys! Ah!"—he stumbled and nearly fell—"wounded? Who is this?"

There was no reply.

"Norman—Rifle—Tim?" cried the captain in horrified tones.

"Yes, father! Yes, uncle!" cried the boys excitedly.

"Then it's the black! But I don't understand. How was it?"

"Mine hear black fellow come down along," said Shanter, quickly. "Mine make black fellow go up along. You pidney?"

"What, down the chimney?"

"Yohi. Make plenty fire, baal come along down."

"Wait a minute," said the captain quickly, and they heard him go into the other room. Then there was the sharp striking of flint and steel, a shower of sparks, and the face of the captain was faintly visible as he blew one spark in the tinder till it glowed, and a blue fluttering light on the end of a brimstone match now shone out. Then the splint burst into flame as voices were heard inquiring what it all meant.

"Back into your room!" thundered the captain.

As he spoke, thud, thud, thud, came three heavy knocks at the door in front, which were answered by Uncle Jack's gun rapidly thrust through the slit left for defence, out of which a long tongue of flame rushed as there was a sharp report, and then silence.

"Blows of clubs?" cried the captain, sheltering the light with his hand, as he looked toward his brother.

"Spears," said Uncle Jack, laconically; and the next moment the sound of his powder-flask was heard upon the muzzle of the gun, followed by the ramming down of a wad.

But the boys' eyes were not directed toward their uncle, whose figure could be plainly seen as he loaded again, for they were fixed upon the body of a black lying face downward on the kitchen floor, with Shanter, hideously painted, squatting beside it, showing his white teeth, and evidently supremely proud of his deed of arms.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

"THEY'RE ON THE ROOF."

Coming quickly into the kitchen with the candle, the captain held it down over the prostrate black, turned him partly over, and let him fall back as he rapidly blew it out.

"Dead," he said, hoarsely.

"Yohi. Gone bong," said Shanter, quietly. "Come along mumkull Marmi and plenty white Marys. When piggi jump up, baal find dat black fellow."

There was a few moments' silence, and then the captain said sharply: "Norman—Tim, lift out the bar. Rifle, be ready with your piece, and fire at once if an attack is made. Don't lift out the shutter, Norman, till I say 'Now!'"

Norman made no reply, for much of his training had been tinged with military discipline. He lifted out the bar, and set it down, then he and Tim took hold of the shutter, while Rifle stood ready with his fowling-piece, listening intently, though, to his father, who was whispering to Shanter.

"Now!" said the captain, sharply. The shutter was lifted out, the boys felt the captain and Shanter push by them; there was a strange rustling sound, a yell from many voices close at hand, and the shutter was thrust back in its place, but would not go home.

Bang, bang! Two sharp reports from Rifle's piece, which was then dragged back and the shutter glided into the opening, but was driven right in the boys' faces by what seemed to be half a dozen heavy blows. Then it was pushed in its place again, and the bar dropped across.

"Were those club blows, father?" panted Norman.

"No, boy, spears thrown at the window. Well done, lads; you were very prompt. It was risky to open the shutter, but we could not keep that poor wretch here. Hark!"

A low muttering and groaning, then a yell or two, came from outside, chilling the boys' blood; and Rifle stood there, his face and hands wet with cold perspiration, listening in horror.

"Gun fellow plenty hurt," said Shanter, with a satisfied laugh.

"Yes," said the captain, with a sigh; "some of those swan-shot of yours, boy, have told. But load, load! And Heaven grant that this may be a lesson to them, and you will not need to fire again."

"Ned!" cried Uncle Jack, in a low voice.

"Yes."

"They're stealing round here. I can just make them out. Shall I fire?"

"Not unless they are coming on."

In an instant Uncle Jack's gun spoke out, and there was a fierce burst of yelling, followed by the familiar sound of spears striking the door or walls of the house.

"Mine plenty spear when piggi jump up," said Shanter, quietly.

"Yes," said the captain, after listening for a few moments.—"Going away, Jack?" he whispered.

"Yes; I fired while they were far off, so as to hit as many as possible. Only duck-shot."

"Look here, Shanter," said the captain. "Black fellow go now?"

"Baal go. Come along mumkull everybody."

"Cheerful, boys," said the captain; "but we shall stop that. Now then, the first thing is to close that chimney. How's it to be done?"

"I think, sir," began Sam German slowly, but he was interrupted by Uncle Jack:

"Some one coming up; better look out. Hah!" Uncle Jack shrank away from the loophole in the doorway just in time, for a spear was thrust through, grazing his cheek. Then it was withdrawn for a second thrust, but it did not pass through.

Sam German's gun-barrel did, and he fired as he held it pistol-wise.

There was a horrible yell following the report; then a fearful shriek or two, and a fresh shower of spears struck the house, while a burst of low sobbing came from the girls' room.

"Marian! Aunt Georgie!" cried the captain, sternly. "Silence there, for all our sakes. Is that how English ladies should encourage those who are fighting for their lives?"

The sobbing ceased on the instant, and a silence fell outside.

"Gone," whispered Norman, after a time.

"Baal gone," said Shanter, coolly. "Black fellow plenty come along soon."

The black's words went home and sank deeply, a chill of horror running through the boys as they felt how, after this reception, their enemies would be implacable, and that if they gained the upper hand it meant death for them all. It was in ignorance, though, for had the reception been of the kindest, the probability was that they would have run the same chance of massacre.

But the feeling of depression passed off quickly enough now, and the excitement of the last hour produced a feeling of elation. It had been horrible, that encounter with the descending enemy, and then the firing and the shrieks and yells as they had shot at these men; and then unconsciously, while he and his brothers were silently and thoughtfully dwelling on the same theme, Norman said aloud: "No, they are not men, but wolves, and must be treated the same."

Then he started, for a hand from out of the darkness gripped his shoulder, and his uncle's voice said: "Yes, boy, you are quite right; savage howling wolves, who would have no mercy upon us, I am afraid."

"You here, uncle?"

"Yes, lad; your father has just relieved me, and I'm coming to sit down and eat some bread, and have a pannikin of water. Where's Shanter?"

"Mine all along here 'top chimney," said the black.

"Yes, and that's one thing I am going to do," said Uncle Jack. "Your father, boys, and Shanter have talked it over. There is a square case here in the corner that we think will about fill the chimney a little way up."

"Yes; here it is," cried Rifle.

"Let's try."

Then, in the darkness, the chest was dragged to the front of the fire, lifted, found to go right up and block the chimney, so that when it was wedged up in its place by placing a barrel upright beneath, that way of entrance was effectually blocked, and Uncle Jack uttered a sigh of relief.

"Now for my bread and water," he said.—"Have some damper, Shanter?"

"Hey? Damper?" cried the black, eagerly. "Gib damper. Hah! Soff damper."

This last was on receiving a great piece of Aunt Georgie's freshly-made bread, which kept him busily occupied for some little time.

All were on the qui vive, feeling cheered and hopeful, now that their armour had had its first proving, the weak spot found and remedied; for, though others were contemplated for the future, the great kitchen chimney, built exactly on the principle of that in an old English farmhouse, was the only one in the slowly growing home.

An hour passed, and another, with several false alarms—now the crack of some dry board in the side of the house, now a noise made by some one moving in the room, or the creaking of one of the fences outside— everything sounding strange and loud in the stillness of the night; and as the time wore on, and no fresh attack came, the boys' hopes rose higher, and they turned to the black as the best authority on the manners and customs of the natives.

"They must be gone now, Shanter," Rifle said at last, after two or three dampings from that black sage. "It's over two hours since we have heard them: all gone along, eh?"

Shanter grunted.

"I shall ask father to let me go out and reconnoitre."

"Mine no pidney," said the black.

"Get out of one of the windows and go and look round."

"What for go along? Plenty damper—plenty water."

"To see if the black fellows have gone."

"Baal go see. Marmi come back tickum full spear and go bong."

"Nonsense! the black fellows are gone."

"Black fellow all along. Come plenty soon."

"How do you know?"

"Mine know," said the black, quietly; and they waited again for quite an hour, fancying every rustle they heard was the creeping up of a stealthy enemy.

Then, all at once, there was a light, narrow, upright mark, as it seemed, on the kitchen wall. This grew plainer, and soon they were looking on each other's dimly-seen faces; and about ten minutes later Norman went to the chimney corner, took hold of the shovel there, and scraped together a quantity of the fine, grey wood ashes which lay on the great hearthstone about the cask which supported the chest in the chimney, to sprinkle them about in the middle of the kitchen.

The boys looked on, and Tim shuddered, but directly after uttered a sigh of relief, just as a hideous, chuckling laugh came apparently from the ridge of the house.

"Quick!" cried Norman, dropping the fire-shovel with a clatter, and seizing his gun; "they're on the roof."

"Baal shoot," cried Shanter, showing his teeth. "Dat laughum jackass," and he imitated the great, grotesque kingfisher's call so faithfully that the bird answered. "Say piggi jump up:" his interpretation of the curious bird's cry; and very soon after piggi, otherwise the sun, showed his rim over the trees at the edge of the eastern plain. For it was morning, and Rifle shuddered as he went to the window slit to gaze out on the horrors of the night's work.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

"HE HAS GONE."

But though a curious, morbid fascination attracted the boy to the loophole, there were no horrors to see. Silently, and unknown to the defenders of the happy little English home, the blacks had carried away their dead and wounded, and all outside looked so beautiful and peaceful, that the events of the past night seemed like a dream.

On all sides of the low, wooden house, eager eyes were scanning the wooded patches, trees, and ridges, but there was no sign of an enemy. The only significant thing visible was that the rails of the great paddock had been taken down in one place, and the horses and cattle were out and about grazing.

"I can see no sign of them," said the captain, suddenly closing his glass; the others, after making their own inspection from the several loopholes left for defence, now waiting to hear the captain's announcement after using his telescope. "No, I can see no sign of them.—Here, Tam."

The black came to his side, gave himself a writhe, and said with a grin, "Baal mine ride horse fellow lass night, Marmi."

"No, no," said the captain, smiling; "but look here; black fellow gone along."

"All hide um myall scrub," said Shanter, quietly.

"No, no, gone—gone," said the captain. "Plenty run away."

"Baal plenty run away," cried the black, who understood the mutilated English of the settlers, made for native comprehension, more easily than ordinary talk. "No, baal plenty run away. Hide."

"How do you know. You pidney?"

The black nodded, and a cunning smile overspread his face as he led the captain to the loopholes at the front, side, and back of the house, pointed out at the cattle, and then said with the quiet decision of one who has grasped a fact: "Horse fellow—bull-cow—say baal go near scrub, black fellow throw spear."

The captain uttered an ejaculation, and the boys laughed.

"Well done, Shanter!" cried Rifle. "Look, father, they are all keeping together out in the middle."

"Oh yes there's no doubt about it," said the captain. "I shall end by having quite a respect for Tam."

"Baal whip Shanter?" said the black sharply.

"No; never again."

"Marmi gib Shanter plenty horse fellow ride?"

"Yes, you shall ride and herd the cattle."

"Big white Mary gib plenty soff damper?"

"Yes, plenty."

"How coo-ee! Big white Mary gib Shanter plenty soff damper now?" cried the black.

"Yes, come along, aunt; and Marian, you and the girls come and give us some breakfast; there is no danger at present."

"Shanter make plenty big fire," cried the black. "Pull down big box fellow—big tub. Black fellow no come long time."

The boys sprang to his help, the tub and chest were removed, and a fire lit, its ashes soon removing the traces which had been hidden by the cask.

The ladies looked very pale, but their neat aspect in the dim kitchen, along with the sparkling fire, gave everything a cheerful look in spite of the gloom.

Shanter marched to the front door.

"Open," he said shortly. "Mine go eat damper. Plenty see black fellow come and shut um."

"Yes, we could keep watch, and close it again quickly," said the captain. So bars and barricades were drawn aside, and the door thrown open to admit the fresh, delicious, morning breeze, which blew full in their faces, while the light darted into the interior of the shuttered rooms.

"Hurrah!" cried the boys in chorus; and they all came out into the front.

"What's the matter, Shanter?" cried Rifle, as the black suddenly threw back his head, dilated his nostrils, and began to sniff.

"Mine smell," he cried.

"What can you smell?"

The black was silent for a few moments, standing with his eyes closely shut, and giving three or four long sniffs, twitching his face so comically, that the boys laughed.

"Muttons," said the black, decisively. "Mumkull sheep fellow. Big fire where? Hah!"

He had been staring about him now as he spoke, and suddenly fixed his eyes on the low bushes down by the waterfall, and pointed to a faint blue curl of smoke just rising above the trees, and which might have been taken for mist.

"I can smell it now," cried Tim. "It's like burning wool."

"Mumkull sheep fellow. Roace plenty mutton."

"Oh yes, one of our sheep," cried Norman, fiercely.

"Kimmeroi—bulla—metancoly—plenty mutton."

"Yes," said Rifle, "and they'll camp down there and eat all father's sheep. Oh, if we could only drive them right away."

"Shanter catch sheep fellow, eat mutton?"

"No, not yet," said the captain, quietly; and very soon after, with Shanter and Sam German watching, the defenders of the little fort obeyed a call, and went in to enjoy a wonderfully good breakfast considering the position in which they were placed.

Then began a day of careful watching, during which, at Aunt Georgie's desire, Shanter sought for eggs, drove up the two cows to the door to be milked, and assisted in bringing in more wood and water, displaying a wonderful eagerness in performing any duties connected with the preparation of food.

Many of the little things done looked risky, but the enemy made no sign, and the sun began to set with the house much strengthened as a fort, and better provisioned for a siege.

Rifle was sure, two or three times over, that the blacks must be gone, and said so, but Shanter shook his head.

"Black fellow plenty eat. Go sleep," he said, on one occasion. On another, he cried cheerfully, "Black fellow baal go along. Mumkull all a body." While lastly, he said coolly, "Black fellow ogle eye all a time."

Then night—with the place closely barricaded, and the arrangement made that half of their little party should sleep while the other half watched, but the former had their weapons by their sides ready to spring up at the first alarm, the captain having arranged where each sleeper's place was to be.

There was some opposition on the part of the ladies, but they yielded upon the captain telling them that the siege might last for days; and that not only would they be safer, but it would give their defenders confidence to know they were out of danger.

And then once more the anxious watch began, Shanter creeping now softly from loophole guard to loophole guard, for there was no need for him to watch by the chimney, which was stopped again.

But their precautions were necessary, for the first alarm they had came from the chimney, to which, spear in hand, the black ran and chuckled as he heard the chest creak, and a crashing sound upon the cask which supported it notify that one of the black fellows was trying to force his way down.

After that five different attacks were made, the blacks trying to force in door and window, till a shot was fired through the loophole. This was in each case followed by a desperate effort to spear the defenders through the hole; and being prepared now, Shanter waited for and seized the weapon, holding it while a charge of shot was poured through the slit.

Then would come yells and a savage throwing of spears, which suggested a harvest to the black, which however, as in the last case, was not fulfilled, every one being afterwards collected and carried away.

The result of all this was that very little sleep was enjoyed by anybody, and the morning broke to give the defenders an interval of rest and peace, for the blacks did not show themselves by day.

Somewhat rested, the little party prepared for the third night, hoping that the enemy would now be disgusted at his want of success and retire, and now darkness had come and hopes had grown stronger and stronger, before there was a sudden rush and several men gained the roof and began tearing off the shingles, till a shot or two fired straight upward sent the cowardly savages helter-skelter down once more.

They came no more that night, and a peaceful day followed, with the cattle indicating that the black fellows were still hiding about in the scrub; while a fire showed that they were providing themselves with food at the captain's expense.

The ladies looked more calm and hopeful, for they were beginning to believe in the strength of their little fortress and the bravery of their defenders; but there was an anxious look in the captain's eyes, and the boys talked over the position together.

"I expected that they would have given up before now," Norman said.

"So did I," cried Rifle. "A lot of them must have been wounded and some killed, though we don't see them."

"Shanter says metancoly," cried Tim. "I suppose that's what makes them so fierce. Do you think they will stay till they've killed us all?"

"Hope not," replied Rifle; "I'm getting tired of it. I wish father hadn't come out so far away from all neighbours. We might have had some help if he hadn't."

"Hush! the girls," whispered Norman, as, pale and anxious looking, the sister and cousin went to the front door where the captain was watching, Shanter being on duty at the back.

It was soon agreed that it was of no use to wish, and the long irksome day came to an end, with the door once more barricaded, and keen eyes watching for the next approach of the enemy.

But the blacks were too cunning to advance while there was the slightest chance of their being observed; and when they did come it was with a sudden rush from somewhere close at hand, when retaliatory shots again and again forced them to retreat. It was just such a night as the others which they had passed, and the coming of day was once more gladly hailed with its peace and opportunities for rest and sleep.

That afternoon the captain looked more haggard and wistful than ever. As far as he could make out, a couple of his choicest oxen were missing, and it soon became a conviction that they had been speared by the black fellows for their feast about the fire they had established in a grove a mile away.

So far there was no fear of the garrison, as Rifle called them, being starved out; but at any time a nearer approach of the enemy would put a stop to the successful little forays made by Shanter in search of eggs and chickens; and the task of milking the cows, which marched up slowly morning and evening, might easily have been made too difficult or terminated by the throwing of spears.

"Don't let's halloa before we are hurt," Tim had said to this; and all went on as before, the next day and the next.

Again the sun rose after a more anxious night, for the attacks had been exceedingly pertinacious and harassing, while the mischief done amongst the attacking party must have been terrible.

"They're getting more savage," Norman said gloomily in the course of the day, after returning from the room where Mrs Bedford was lying down; "and it's wearing mamma out."

"Yes," said Tim; "and the girls can't keep their tears back. I say, couldn't we all make an attack upon them in their camp?"

"And be speared," cried Rifle. "No; there are too many of 'em. They'd drive us back and get into the house, and then—Ugh!"

The shudder he gave was echoed by his companions.

"I was thinking whether it would be possible on horseback," said Norman.

"No, my boy," said the captain, who had overheard their remarks; "it would be too risky, I dare not. What is the matter with the black?"

"I have not seen anything," replied Norman.

"Nor you, boys?"

Rifle and Tim were silent.

"Speak!" said the captain, sternly.

"I thought as Rifle does, uncle, that Shanter seems to be getting tired of fighting. He always wants to be asleep in the day now, and is sulky and cross if he is woke up."

"You have noted that, Rifle?"

"Yes, father."

"I had similar thoughts. The man wants to get into the fresh air, and be free once more."

The object of their conversation was sitting listlessly upon his heels gazing at the smoke of the fire rising in the scrub, but did not appear to notice that he was being made the object of the conversation, and soon after they saw his head droop down as if he had gone fast asleep.

The captain made a movement as if to go and rouse him up, but refrained, and taking the glass, he focussed it, and proceeded to count the horses and cattle still scattered about grazing. For though they seemed to be scared away by the yelling and firing at night, they came slowly back toward the house in the course of the day, so that by night they were for the most part in their old quarters, the horses even going back into their paddock.

The day wore on, with turns being taken in the watching, the two girls and Aunt Georgie insisting upon aiding, their sight being sharp enough they declared, so that the defenders of the little fort were able to get more sleep, and prepare for the night attacks which were sure to come.

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. Nobody 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 appetite that evening, and the remains of the meal were cleared away, with the captain and Uncle Jack standing outside reconnoitring in turns with the glass, 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 cocked.

"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 sturdy lads for a few moments. "Your father wishes me to go now and leave you. God 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; God 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.

"Fire, boys, fire!" cried the captain; while shots rang out from the front. The boys fired, Tim directing his two charges through the ceiling, where he imagined enemies to be lying, the others firing through the loophole.

There was the customary rush overhead, the sound of falls, fierce yelling, as a pair of spears struck the house, and Norman uttered a sharp cry.

"Any one hurt?" cried the captain, excitedly. "Marian, aunt, go and see. I can't leave here."

"No: not hurt," shouted Norman. "Spear came through the loophole, passed through my shirt and under my arm."

"Thrust or thrown?" cried Uncle Jack.

"Thrown," was the reply, as the hissing of wads driving out confined air, and the thudding of ramrods were heard.

"They know Shanter isn't here," whispered Rifle, as he finished his loading. "They've killed him, and that's what makes them so fierce."

He seemed to be right, for the defenders passed a cruel night; but morning dawned, and the enemy had not gained a single advantage more than before.

That morning was devoted to nailing planks all over the roof, for fortunately they were plentiful. Others were nailed across the doors, back and front, just leaving room for people to creep in and out; and this being done, the captain took the glass once more to scour their surroundings; while Sam German and the boys fetched water and wood, fulfilling Shanter's duties, till an ejaculation from the captain made them look up.

"The wretches! They have speared or driven off all the horses, boys; we must get a sheep killed for provender, or we may not have another chance. There, work and get done. You must all have some rest before night."

Norman was just going into the house as the captain spoke these words, and the boy turned away from the door to get round to the side, where he could be alone. He had been about to join his mother and the girls, but his father's words brought a despairing feeling upon him, and he dared not meet them for fear they should read his thoughts.

"What's the matter, Man?" said a voice behind him. "Ill?"

It was Rifle who spoke, and Norman turned so ghastly a face to him that the boy was shocked.

"Here, let me fetch father," he said.

"No, no; stop! I shall be better directly."

"But what was it?"

"The horses—the horses!"

"Oh, don't make a fuss about them. We've got to think of ourselves. We can get some more horses, I daresay."

"Yes, but not when we want them," said Norman, angrily. "Can't you see: they were our last chance."

Rifle stared.

"What—you mean?" he faltered.

"Of course. Father would have stayed here to the last to try to protect the home he has made, but when things came to the worst, we should have had to mount some morning and gallop off."

In spite of the peril they were in, Rifle laughed.

"Get out!" he cried. "You would never have got Aunt Georgie upon a horse."

"Can't you be serious for a minute," cried Norman, angrily. "Don't you see that our last chance has gone?"

"No," said Rifle, sturdily. "Not a bit of it. We've only been firing duck and swan shot so far. Now, I'm going to ask father if we hadn't better fire ball. Come on. Don't grump over a few horses. We don't want to ride away and be hunted for days by black fellows."

"Where are you going?"

"To get in that sheep while we can. Perhaps to-morrow they'll be driven farther away."

Norman nodded, and looked hard at his brother, for he could not help admiring his sturdy courage.

"We're going now, father," cried Rifle.

"Well, take care. Creep along by the fence, keeping it between you and the scrub there. Get round the sheep, and drive all before you till they are close in here. Then pounce upon two and hold on. We'll come and help you."

The task looked risky, for the sheep were a couple of hundred yards away, and it was felt that the blacks were in the scrub. But they had not shown themselves, and might be a sleep, or so far away that the bold dash made by the boys would be unseen. But all the same the captain and Uncle Jack covered their advance, ready with loaded guns to protect the boys should the blacks make any sign.

The arrangement seemed to be unnecessary, for the two lads, carrying their pieces at the trail, reached the fence, under whose cover they went out quite a hundred yards. Then halting and carefully scanning the nearest patch of scrub, they rose and walked fast, partly away from the sheep, so as to be well beyond them before they turned to their left, got behind, and drove them gently toward the house.

All this had to be done slowly and deliberately so as not to startle the flock, but, as Rifle said, it was ticklish work.

"Yes. I expect to see black heads starting up every moment," whispered Norman. "Now then, we're far enough. Quickly and steadily. Come along."

The boys bore round to their left so as to be between the sheep and the open country, and the outsiders of the flock began to move before them without taking alarm, stopping to munch a bit of grass now and then, and causing others to move in turn; till, as the boys walked on, they at last had their backs to the scrub and the sheep going steadily toward the house.

"Wasn't so difficult after all," said Rifle, quietly. "Couldn't we pen three or four? Why is father signalling?"

"Hi! look out!" shouted Norman, for he had seen his father waving one hand excitedly; and casting an eye back there were twenty or thirty spear-armed savages just darting out of the scrub, and running swiftly in pursuit.

The sight of the enemy made the boys start forward at once; the sheep began to trot, then increased their pace as the boys ran faster, and, dividing into two little flocks, tore past north and south of the house and enclosures, in front of which stood the captain and Uncle Jack, with Sam German running out to their support.

"Quick, boys!" shouted the captain. "Run on and get under cover."

At that moment Rifle saw Tim at the door of the house waving his hands, and to the boys' horror there was the reason: another crowd of black figures were racing up from the trees and bushes down by the river.

But they, like the other party, had a good distance to come, and the issue was never for a moment doubtful.

One incident, though, made the captain shout angrily.

Just in those exciting moments Mrs Bedford ran out of the house, and would have gone on in her dread and horror toward where her husband and sons seemed to her to be in deadly peril; but Tim flung his arms about her, and held her in spite of her struggles.

It was a matter of very few moments.

As the one part of the sheep ran by the front, and seeing the blacks advancing, galloped off to avoid them, Norman and Rifle reached the fences, turned, and stood ready to cover the captain and Uncle Jack, shouting the while to Tim to get Mrs Bedford in.

At the cry from Norman, Sam German too had turned, run back past the house door, and stood facing the blacks advancing from the other direction.

"In with you all: run!" roared the captain, as he and his brother now fell back rapidly, guarding the front as Mrs Bedford was dragged in through the narrow opening; the boys followed, and, thanks to their military training, each as he got through the partly nailed up doorway, took a place at the side with gun levelled to protect the next comer.

It was close work.

Uncle Jack was the next in; then Sam German; and four guns were protruding over his head as the captain dashed up with the rapid beat of the blacks' feet very close on either side.

"Back!" he panted as he forced himself through, and shut to the door, which resounded with the impact of spears as the bars were thrust into their places. Then a tall black with wide eyes and gleaming teeth moved up to thrust his spear through the loophole, but a flash came from the narrow opening, and he dropped, rose, turned to flee, and dropped again.

Another ran up, and the captain's second barrel flashed out its contents, with the result that the black turned, ran back a dozen yards or so, and fell upon his face.

"Load that," said the captain hoarsely, passing back his gun, and seizing that nearest to him—the one Sam German held. For he kept to his place at the loophole in the thick door, and thrusting out the barrel, drew trigger twice at a party of six who dashed now to the door.

Click.

A pause.

Click.

In each case a tiny shower of sparks followed the fall of the hammer, and the captain uttered an angry roar like that of some stricken beast.

"Back!" he cried; and all fell away from the door, to right and left.

It was time, for three spears were thrust through the narrow slit as the gun was withdrawn, and kept on darting about as far in every direction as their holders could reach.

"German!" cried the captain, tossing the gun to the man, "and after all I have said!"

Norman stepped forward to fire, but his father checked him.

"Give me your piece," he said; and taking it and cocking both locks, he dropped a bullet in each of the barrels, felt with the ramrod that they were well home, and then going down on one knee, took careful aim through the darkened loophole and fired.

There was a roar and a crash; the spears were withdrawn, and the captain rose and stepped forward, firing the second barrel from the loophole itself.

"Another," he said quietly; and taking Tim's gun as the sound of loading went on, he suddenly cried, "Who's at the back?"

For there was a curious noise in the direction of the kitchen, followed by a shot, a yell, the sound of some one struggling, and they dashed into the place to see, as well as the darkness and smoke would allow, the embers from the hearth scattered and burning all about the kitchen, and a black figure writhing on the floor.

As he entered, Uncle Jack was in the act of passing his gun up the wide chimney—once more temporarily opened; there was a report, a yell, and another figure fell right on the burning fragments left on the hearth, rolled over, and lay motionless.

"Nearly surprised me," said Uncle Jack, coolly loading just as Rifle fired twice from the loophole of the back door, when there was a rush overhead and then silence.

"They've drawn back about thirty yards," said Rifle, loading as his father trampled out the burning embers, which were filling the place with a stifling smoke.

"Better pour water on the fire and put it quite out," said the captain to his brother.

"No: water may be scarce soon," was the reply. "We'll tread it out."

"Coming on again!" shouted Rifle; and as there was the customary sound of spears sticking into the woodwork, the boy fired twice, his charges of big shot scattering and wounding far more than he ever knew.

Just then four shots were fired quickly from the front, there was a savage yelling, and as the captain ran forward, Sam German could be dimly-seen beginning to recharge his piece.

"She were loaded this time, master," he said fiercely, "and some on 'em knowed it.—How many did you bring down, Master 'Temus?"

"Don't know," said the boy huskily, as he hurriedly reloaded.

"Yer needn't be ashamed to say, my lad," cried the old gardener. "We're fighting for ladies, and agen savage wretches as won't let honest folk alone. There, I'm ready for another now."

"Don't fire till they attack," said the captain. "Do you hear, Norman: no waste."

"I hear, father," said the boy quietly, as he stood with his piece resting in the opening, and his bronzed face on the watch.

"Hurray!" came from the back, and at the same moment Norman shouted: "They're retiring, father;" and then a low sobbing came from the inner room.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS' PEACE.

Victory was won for the time being; and as the two groups drew back toward the shelter of the scrub, they could be seen carrying the wounded and those who had fallen. Ten minutes later they were close up to the trees, when a thought struck the captain.

"Quick, Norman, unbar that door. Marian, every one there, keep close. No one is to come out." He then called to German, who followed him into the kitchen, and together they bore out the bodies of the two blacks who had obtained an entrance, one of them still showing signs of life.

They carried one at a time some distance out into the open, having the satisfaction of seeing that the enemy had halted and were watching them, while by the time the second body was lowered on to the grass, the blacks were returning at a swift run.

But long before they were near the besieged were back in shelter, and the enemy, as they came up, contented themselves by yelling and making threatening gestures with their spears before retiring, once more bearing off their two companions.

"And now for preparations for the night attack," said the captain, quietly. "Why, boys, it was like regular warfare. Your advance compelled the enemy to develop his strength and forced on a general engagement.—Come girls, all of you, and have a little fresh air before dark."

And as the door was opened and the fresh evening breeze floated in to waft away the horrible dank odour of burnt gunpowder, it seemed hardly possible to believe that so deadly an encounter could have occurred lately, and no one on their side been even scratched.

"But I should have liked to save some of that mutton," said Rifle, thoughtfully. "It is quite time we had a change."

The hour came for barricading the door only too soon, and once more the watch commenced, half of the tiny garrison lying down, while Aunt Georgie and one of the girls pressed for leave to share the watch, urging that they were not weary, and would perhaps be able to detect by eye or ear the approach of danger.

The captain, who was nearly exhausted by his efforts, reluctantly consented, and lay down for a few minutes, giving orders that he should be called at the slightest alarm, and a few minutes after—as he believed—he sprang up looking puzzled and confused.

For the door was wide open, the morning sun shining in, and there was the sharp crackling of a fire, and the smell of baking bread.

"What is the meaning of this?" he said.

"Only that you've slept all night, father, and never moved," cried Rifle, merrily.

"But I gave orders to be called at the slightest alarm."

"And there never was the slightest alarm," cried the boy, joyfully.—"Hi! Man—Tim—father's awake."

Norman and his cousin came to the door gun in hand.

"See anything?" cried Rifle.

"No.—Morning, father.—I believe they've gone."

"Impossible! But you have not heard them all night?"

"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, glass 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 passed a perfectly peaceful night; "the beggars are all gone."

The captain, who was using his glass, 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 pass 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 passed 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 passing the telescope from one to the other for a final look round, while the ladies clustered 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 hoarsely; "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 passed, 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," he was going to whisper, but he did not speak, for at that moment there was a faint rustling overhead; the brothers pressed each other's hands, and Sam German laid his pipe softly in the chimney, took up his gun, and listened.

The next minute the soft rustle continued, and a noise as of someone in pain was heard, while the listeners in the darkness knew perfectly that a black had lowered himself and stood barefooted upon the sharp spikes.

Another attempt was made and another. The blacks, being emboldened by the perfect silence within, tried a fresh plan, which consisted in lowering down a heavy piece of wood, and began to batter the new protection. But a couple of shots fired up the chimney had the customary result, and there was silence once more.

This was the most painful part of the attack, for every nerve was on the strain to make out where the next attempt at entrance would be made, and after the respite of the past peaceful days this fresh alarm seemed more depressing than even the first coming of the enemy. For the defenders could only feel how hopeless their case was, and as the captain thought of his wife's look that evening, he was fain to confess that he would have to give up and settle where the help of neighbours was at his command.

All at once there were a couple of shots from the front, followed by a tremendous yelling, and then silence again for a full hour, when it was plain that the enemy were preparing for a rush at the back, where at least a dozen shots were fired before they drew back.

Their tactics had been the same as of old, the blacks savagely rushing up to the doors and making furious thrusts with their spears, which were met now by large pieces of wood used as shutters and held across the loopholes, and as soon as they could be drawn aside, by the delivery of a charge or two of swan-shot.

This went on at intervals, hour after hour, till a feeling of despair began to take possession of the defenders. Hot, weak, parched with thirst, and worn by the terrible anxiety that came upon them like a black cloud, their efforts were growing more feeble, when, in spite of a stern prohibition on the part of the captain, the girls brought them bread and water just as one of the most desperate attacks had lulled. One minute there had been the sound of spears striking window and door, while a breaking and rending went on as the blacks tried to tear away the wooden sides of the house, and climbed upon the roof; the defenders not daring to fire for fear of making holes through which spears might be thrust, and the next all was silent, and the tears started to the boys' eyes as the voice of mother or sister was heard pressing them to eat or drink.

It was the same in every case: they could not eat, but drank with avidity, the cool water seeming to act as a stimulant, and thrill them with new life.

"Back, quick, girls!" said the captain, suddenly; "they're coming on again;" and then he uttered a groan, for he had seen something which destroyed his last hope, and filled him the next moment with a maddening desire to destroy.

If he could only hurl one of the little powder kegs he had brought so carefully right out into the wilderness—hurl it with a fuse amongst the yelling savages who sought their lives; and then he uttered a low laugh.

"No need," he said to himself softly. "No need. We shall die avenged."

"What's that, father—lightning?" said Norman, sharply; but there was no reply.

It was Rifle who spoke next, but only to utter the ejaculation: "Oh!"

But what a world of meaning there was in the word, as with a hiss of rage the boy thrust his piece from the loophole and sent two heavy charges of shot right into the midst of a crowd of blacks who were coming up to the house carrying fire-sticks and brushwood, with which they ran round and piled it up against the angle formed by the kitchen where it projected at the back. There was a tremendous yelling as the boy fired, and two men fell, while others ran about shrieking; but the mischief was done, and in a few minutes there was a burst of flame, and a peculiar pungent odour of burning wood began to find its way in and threaten suffocation.

"What's to be done, father?" whispered Norman, as light began to show through the thin cracks or chinks of the wooden wall.

"I'd say go out and die fighting like men, boys," said the captain, with a groan; "but there are women. Come, we must not give up," he added, and going to the loophole nearest to him he set the example of firing with unerring aim, whenever he had the chance, at an enemy.

Uncle Jack followed suit, and in obedience to orders, the boys went on steadily reloading.

But the side of the house was growing hot; the kitchen had caught, the crackling of the dry wood began to increase to a roar, and that side of the house was rapidly growing light as day, when Uncle Jack said in a whisper, which the boys heard: "Ned, lad, it's very hard for us, but we've had our day. Can nothing be done?"

A tremendous triumphant yelling drowned any attempt at speaking on the captain's part, but as it lulled for a few moments, he said, "Nothing. We have done all we could."

"Rifle, Tim," whispered Norman, in horror, "couldn't we get out by the front and take them down to the scrub? The wretches are all on this side."

"Impossible, boys," said the captain, sternly. "Can't you hear? they are piling wood by the other door."

Rifle uttered a sobbing groan, and just then there was a flash of light in the front, and a furious burst of shouts as a tongue of flame shot up past the loophole, accompanied by a crackling roar.

"Your hands, boys," said a deep low voice, that was wonderfully soft and musical just then; "destroy no more life. God bless you all, and forgive me!"

At that moment there was a burst of sobs; then it seemed as if all emotion was at end, and the little group gathered together, feeling that all was over, for already the smoke was forcing its way in by crack and chink, a feeling of difficulty of breathing was rapidly coming on, and the yelling of the blacks was growing strange and unreal, when Rifle sprang up from his knees.

"Yes, yes," he shouted; and again with all his might, "yes!"

For there was a wild shout close at hand.

"Marmi! Marmi!"

The yelling ceased, and all now started to their feet, for there was the beating of hoofs, and in rapid succession shot after shot, with good old English shouts of rage, as a party of mounted men galloped by, tearing on in full pursuit of the fleeing enemy.

"Quick!" roared the captain. "Guns, boys, quick!"

As he spoke he dashed to the front, tore down bar and board, and banged the door back.

A burst of flame rushed in, but the brushwood touching the woodwork was being torn away, and through the flames they saw a fierce black face and two bare arms tossing the burning wood aside.

"Marmi! Marmi! Rifle—'Temus! Coo-ee, coo-ee!"

"Coo-ee!" yelled Rifle; and he tried to cry again, but the word stuck in his throat as he forced his way out over the burning twigs, his father next.

"Sam! Jack!" yelled the captain, "your fork—anything. Boys—water."

He rushed round to the back, closely followed by the black figure, on which the firelight glistened, and began tearing away the burning brushwood. This was being tossed aside by Sam the next moment, and then buckets of water were brought, and none too soon, for the angle of the house was now blazing furiously.

But the water made little impression, and the captain shouted:

"Quicker, boys! More, more!"

"There ain't no more," growled Sam, sourly.

"What!"

"Stand back, all of you," cried the captain in a stern voice. "Jack! the women! get them to a distance. The place must go, and you know—"

"Look out!" shouted Norman, and he ran forward and threw something at the bottom of the blazing wall.

There was one sharp flash, a puff of hot flame, a great cloud of smoke, and then darkness, with the side of house and kitchen covered with dull sparks.

"Hurrah!" rose from the boys; and the captain drew a deep breath, full of thankfulness.

"All the powder from the big flask, father," cried Norman. "There must have been a pound."

At that moment there were shouts, as a dozen mounted men cantered up, cheering with all their might, and the task of extinguishing the still burning wood was soon at an end.

Amidst the congratulations that followed little was said about the blacks.

"Come back?" cried a familiar voice, fiercely. "I only wish they would, eh, Henley?"

"My dear Freeston," was the reply, "I never felt such a strong desire to commit murder before."

"God bless you all, gentlemen," cried the captain in a broken voice. "You have saved our lives."

There was a low murmur here from the rescuers.

"But how—how was it?" asked the captain; "how did you know?"

"Don't you see, father?" cried Rifle, indignantly; "it was poor old Shanter."

"What? You went for help, Tam?"

"Yohi," said the black simply. "Baal budgery stop along. All go bong."

"My good brave fellow," cried the captain, seizing the black's hand in a true English grip.

"Wow! wow! yow!" yelled Shanter, struggling to get free, and then blowing his fingers. "Marmi hurt mine. Burn hands, burn all down front, put out fire."

"Tam, I shall never forgive myself," cried the captain.

"Forgib mine," cried the black eagerly; "forgib plenty soff damper— forgib mine horse fellow to ride?"

"Yes, yes, anything," cried the captain, "and never doubt you again."

"Yohi," cried Shanter. "Where big white Mary? Mine want damper."

He hurried off to where the ladies were seated, trying to recover their calmness after the terrible shock to which they had been exposed, while the captain turned to the leaders of the rescue party.

"And the black came to you for help?"

"Yes," said Dr Freeston. "He came galloping up with a drove of horses, I don't know how many days ago, for it has been like an excited dream ever since. I ran to Henley, and we got ten stout fellows together, and rode on as fast as we could, but I'm afraid that we have punished your horses terribly as well as our own."

"Oh, never mind the horses," cried Henley, "they'll come round. But we came in time, and that's enough for us."

The captain could not speak for a few moments. Then he was himself again, and after all were satisfied that there was not the slightest danger of the fire breaking out again, proper precautions were taken to secure the horses, watch was set, and the rescue party had quite a little banquet in the kitchen, one which Rifle declared to be a supper at breakfast time, for morning was upon them before some of the most weary had lain down to sleep, and slept in peace.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

"CAN'T YOU SEE?"

For the blacks made no further sign, and when, headed by the captain, the little party boldly took up the trail that morning, it was to find that the enemy had fled in haste, and not until it was felt to be utterly useless to follow farther was the pursuit given up. But that attempt to hunt them down was not without result. Shanter was with the party, riding in high delight with the three boys, and every now and then, in his eager scouting on his "horse fellow"—as he called the rough colt he rode—he was able to show how terribly the myall blacks had been punished, and not to dwell upon horrors brought by the wretched savages upon themselves, the punishment they had received was terrible.