"Nay, but I tell you what I heared," replied he. "I heared them cockatoos flacker and cry out, on yon trees; and depend on't they hear a strange foot."
"Then they are better watchmen than we are," said Arthur. "What shall we do, Wilkins?"
"Just ye tell your folks not to be fleyed at nought," said he, "and we'll set them rogues off in no time."
Arthur warned Margaret and his father not to be alarmed at any noise they might hear, and the other young men, roused at the report of an assault, were soon in the ranks. Then, at a signal agreed, they raised their voices in a simultaneous halloo! that rang against the rocky hills. A loud rustling succeeded, and a dozen dark figures, visible in the moonlight, emerged from the bushes, and fled swiftly across the plain.
"Saved!" cried Hugh: "for this time at least. But, I say, Arthur, we must not sleep in the bush every night, or they'll catch us at last. I saw several fine roomy caves in the rocks as we came along. We must take possession of the next we fall in with, and then we shall only have the entrance to guard."
"They held spears in their hands, I saw," said Gerald; "I wonder why they did not send a few among us?"
"They're ower sly for that, Master Gerald," said Wilkins. "They'd like to come on us all asleep, and butcher us. Now they'll dog us, day after day; but if we hold on steady-like, we'se wear 'em out at last."
"If we could but put a good broad river between us," said Jack, "we might feel safe. Did you see that stringy bark tree just at hand, Mr. Arthur? I marked it in my mind, and if Master Hugh, and you, and Master O'Brien will help me, we will twist some long ropes, on our road to-morrow, and then, I fancy, if we came to a river we could not ford, we might contrive a ferry-boat."