The Dingo Boys Part 33

But Norman saved him, and the poor fellow looked at him piteously. "Big boomer squeeze mine," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "Legs baal walk along."

That was very evident, for he was streaming with perspiration, and gladly drank some water from their tubs.

Then the difficulty was solved by Norman making Shanter mount the horse he had himself ridden, and the journey was continued with the black striding the saddle and holding on by the sides of the stirrup-irons with his toes, for he could not be induced to place his foot flat on the bar, which he declared to be plenty "p.r.i.c.kenum," and always placing his first and second toes on either side of the outer edge of the upright part of the stirrup.

The pleasure had gone out of the trip now. It had been full of hard work before, but it was labour mingled with excitement; now it was full of anxiety as the little party noted Shanter's weakness, and felt how entirely they depended upon him to follow the track they had made, one often so slight that they could not trace a sign on the short gra.s.s or hard ground. And as Norman said, if the black broke down again they might never be able to find their way home.

But the black kept his seat on one or other of the horses very well for two days, and then they had to halt for a whole day, when it seemed as if they were going to have a repet.i.tion of the former anxiety. The morning after, though, he expressed a desire to go on, and as the boys packed up the half-dried canvas and blankets which had formed their cover during a night of heavy rain, they looked anxiously at each other, the same thought being in each breast, though neither of them could find it in his heart to speak.

That thought was--suppose all our horses' footprints are washed away?

And now began a wonderful display of the black's power of vision. As a rule he sat perfectly upright on horseback, took the lead, and rode on over tracts of land, where to the boys not a vestige of their trail was visible; though, when now and then they saw the black guide lean forward, grasp the horse's neck with his arms, and place his head as low down as was possible, they felt that he too was evidently rather at fault.

But no: by his wonderful perception he kept on picking up some tiny trace of a footprint, losing the trail altogether at times, finding it again when all seemed at an end and they had heard him muttering to himself. And so the journey went slowly on, till about noon on the fifth day, as Shanter was intently scanning the ground, he suddenly said:

"Baal can't go. Mine no see no more. Stop eat damper."

The horses were turned loose to graze, a fire lit, and as usual the water boiled for tea, just a sufficiency having been brought from the last spring in the tub slung to the packhorse's side. But there was very little appet.i.te for the cold kangaroo tail and cakebread, as they saw that the black did not eat, but began to beat the ground in all directions like a spaniel, till too weak to do more, when he came and threw himself down on the gra.s.s, and said: "Mine can't find way back no more."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"WE SHALL RUN AGAINST THEM."

What did it mean?

Lost in the great uninhabited plains, where by aid of their compa.s.s they might go on day after day travelling in the direction they believed to be homeward, but it would only be as the result of a guess. Certainly, they knew that the sea lay somewhere due east, but even if they could reach the sea, where would they be--north or south of a settlement?

Norman felt that their case was hopeless; and in obedience to the mute prayer he read in brother and cousin's eyes, he went and sat by the black.

"Can't mine find the track, Shanter?"

"Baal find um," he replied coolly. "Plenty all gone way."

"But come and try again."

The black shook his head.

"Baal go no more," he said; "mine sore. Plenty hurt all over. Go sleep, piggi jump up."

The black turned away, and Norman returned disconsolately to the others.

"What does he say?" whispered Tim, as if afraid that his voice would be heard out there in the great wild.

"Says we are to go to sleep till the sun rises to-morrow."

There was a dead silence.

"Shall we go and try ourselves?" said Rifle, at last.

"If he can't find it, we can't," said Norman, despondently.

"Never mind, boys," cried Tim. "Never say die. When the provision's done, we'll eat one of the horses, if we can't shoot anything. Surely we shall come across settlers some time during the next ten years; and if we don't, I say that if black fellows can live, we who know so much better can, till we reach a settlement once more."

"But we don't know so much better," said Norman, sadly. "Shanter can beat us hollow at tracking. I wouldn't care, boys, only I seem to have poor mother's face always before me; and it will kill her if we don't get back."

Another deep silence followed, for neither could trust himself to speak, till all at once from where he lay, sounding incongruous at so solemn a time, there came from the black a succession of heavy snores; and so near is laughter to tears, mirth to sadness, that the boys burst into a hearty fit of laughter, and Rifle exclaimed: "There, what's the good of our being in the dumps. It can't be so very bad when old Tam o' Shanter can go to sleep like that."

"No," said Tim, taking his pitch from his cousin.

"Let's have a good long rest, and then see what to-morrow brings; eh!

Man?"

Norman smiled and nodded, joining in the preparations for their evening meal, and that night they all lay down as if to sleep, nothing being heard but Shanter's deep breathing in the great solitude beneath the glittering stars, till a deep sigh escaped from Norman's breast; and rising from his blanket couch, he stole softly out to go and kneel down beneath the great, violet, gold-spangled arch of heaven to pray for help, and that there might not come that terrible sorrow in his home-- the tale to be told to future generations of how three happy, contented lads went forth into the great wilderness and left their bones there beneath some tree, or by some water-hole, bleaching in the sun.

He was picturing it all in that solemn silence; the very scene rose before him, but it was swept away directly, and he was gazing in the agony-drawn face of his mother, when he heard a faint sob, and turned as Rifle dropped upon his knees by his side, laid his clasped hands upon his brother's shoulder, and bent down his head.

But poor orphan Tim, who looked upon his cousins more as brothers than aught else, had been as wakeful as they. It had been a mutual deception; each had pretended that he was asleep, so as not to let the others know how he suffered, and many seconds had not elapsed before he too was kneeling by Norman's side.

And there they knelt for a long s.p.a.ce, before Norman began repeating aloud the old, old prayer, followed by the others, till he came to the words, "And deliver us from--"

There he broke down, and the prayer was finished in a husky voice by Tim alone.

A few minutes after they were lying once more in the shelter of the sheet of canvas, and the next thing that happened was their starting up into wakefulness with the sky one glow of gold and orange, and the black face of Tam o' Shanter peering in at them with a grin upon his countenance, as he cried:

"Now, Marmi boys, piggi go jump up. Mine baal sore now. Go along fine way back."

For a marvellous change seemed to have come over the black. He had been sleeping heavily for sixteen hours, and the breakfast he ate was something like that to which they had been accustomed, in spite of the fact that the flour was getting excessively low.

But it was as if a black cloud had rolled away from them during the night, and the bright sun of hope was s.h.i.+ning warmly into their hearts.

All at once, to their great astonishment, Tam leaped up, flourished his nulla-nulla, and shouted:

"Mine want big boomer here. Mak.u.m sore along plenty like Tam o'

Shanter."

"But he has gone bong," cried Rifle.

"Yohi. Gone bong. Marmi Tim mumkull big boomer. Now, come along, mine fine back big white Mary."

"Yes: let's start," cried Norman; but with a pang at his heart as he wondered whether they would ever reach home again, home which seemed now the most lovely place on earth.

Tam refused to mount when they started.

"Mine want see close along," he said; and after a few casts here and there, to the astonishment of all, they saw him suddenly point down, and they all ran to his side.

"Why, there's nothing there," cried Tim.