With what joy they recognized the stringy-bark tree, and gathered the fibres to twist into bowstrings, and with what triumph did Hugh, the first who finished the rude weapon, draw his rough string and bring down pigeons and cockatoos sufficient for an ample meal even to the half-starved, but which taxed the ingenuity of the women to cook in any way. They were finally made into what Gerald called a Meg Merrilies stew, which was cooked in a very large mussel-shell, and even without salt or vegetables was fully enjoyed by the dissatisfied fish-eaters.
Then they all sat down earnestly to make a complete stock of bows and arrows; even Baldabella worked hard in twisting the bark for strings, and when they set out to continue their journey, they felt more confidence, for they were now provided with the means of obtaining food, and of defending themselves against hostile attacks; and in another day they again met with wild oats, and, to the joy of the women, with the tea-bush. The fig-trees no longer bore fruit, but they were still covered with their usual inhabitants, flocks of brilliant pigeons, chattering cockatoos, and the satin-bird, distinguished by its flossy plumage and dazzling bright eye. Occasionally they still met with the cucumber melon, a pleasant refreshment when they were weary; and now, strong in hope, they went on their way, still keeping within sight of the river.
"Every hour must bring us nearer to some of the most remote settlements of enterprising squatters," said Margaret, as they rested beneath a fig-tree one evening; "and all our trials would be forgotten if we could once more feel the blessing of a roof over our heads and hear the language of civilized life."
"It'll be a gay bit yet afore we come on 'em, Miss," said Wilkins. "Folks is not such fools as to squat on bare commons; and there's another thing ye'll find,—we'se meet a few more of them black dogs yet, specially if we come on a bit of good land; they're up to that as well as we are. And now, as things look a bit better, I'd not wonder if they're nigh at hand."
"I agree with you, Wilkins," said Arthur. "We are now certainly in danger of encountering tribes of natives, especially as we are on the track of the kangaroos, a great temptation to them."
"I wish we could see one of the mountebank beasts," said Gerald; "wouldn't I send an arrow or a spear into him. Take notice, all of you, I intend to bag the first old fellow that shows his long nose."
A sudden spring from a thicket behind them brought a large kangaroo into the midst of the circle, and before they had recovered the surprise sufficiently to take up bows or spears, a succession of rapid bounds had carried the animal completely beyond their reach.
A burst of laughter from his friends somewhat disconcerted O'Brien, but with his usual good-humor he said, "Very well; I allow you to laugh to-night. The fellow took an unfair advantage of me; but wait till to-morrow."