"But we have the advantage of knowing," returned Bob, with his usual calm philosophy, "that we shall find water near where the beggars held their odd orgy, and that should recompense for much." Then his eyes closed in slumber, and he entered a realm of phantasies where hostile aborigines and dreary salt plains were alike unknown. The weary strain of the night was over.
They found water after daybreak as they had anticipated. It was contained in a deep sunken rock-hole with an almost unfathomable bottom, wherein one might well fancy some dread monster to exist. They refilled the empty water-bags with thankful hearts, and, fearing another attack in force that night, renewed their march early in the afternoon. It was soon apparent that a better country had now been reached; dry it was certainly, yet the soil showed a considerable improvement over that already traversed, and the scrub became almost continuous instead of in sparse and far-divided belts as formerly. But though all promised well for an unusually favourable journey that day and for many days to come, the presence of hostile bands of aborigines all along the route of travel was too evident a feature of the landscape to be overlooked, and the team had perforce to move onwards warily.
"I do hope," said Mackay, as the evening approached, "that the blacks will give us a rest to-night. There's more risk in these scrimmages at close quarters than is healthy."
Bob had arrived at that conclusion some time before. "We're not more than fifty miles from the location you gave me of Bentley's last camp," he observed gravely. "If I shift the course slightly to the south to-morrow we ought to be up at it in three days."
A spasm of pain crossed Mackay's face. "Ay, my lad, we'll need to be extra cautious now," he said meaningly. "We mustna allow oursel's to be wiped out before we come to the mountain. I've got a bit of a score to settle in that quarter."
The sun was now but a few points above the western horizon, and his fiery radiance bathed the great silent bushland in golden splendour. The motionless mulga and mallee shrubs seemed ablaze with ruddy light, and the wastes of sand shone as a sea of burnished bronze. Not a sound was heard save the harsh cries of the gaily plumaged parrots that flitted eerily from tree to tree, and the occasional dismal monotone of the mopoke. Then suddenly from the shadow of a thicker clump of timber than usual a series of yells rang out, and at the same time a shower of spears whizzed overhead, and perilously close. Each member of the little group realized in an instant what had happened, and seized his rifle.
"Get the camels under cover, boys!" cried Mackay, from his position well ahead of the main party.
"There's nary bit o' cover!" roared back Emu Bill, who had diplomatically stretched himself flat on the ground at the first alarm. Whiz! splash! Even as he spoke a long quivering missile rushed through the shadeless branches and penetrated the great water-bag overlapping Remorse's flank. The stout canvas resisted the shock sufficiently to save the animal from injury, but the precious and dearly-hoarded contents gushed from the rent created in a copious flood. A cry of horror broke from Bob, Jack uttered a wail of anguish, and an expression of much fervour issued from Never Never Dave's mouth. With a bound Mackay rushed forward in vain attempt to save the few remaining drops, but it was not to be; before they had time to realize the seriousness of their loss the gurgling stream had ceased; the canvas skin had given up its store.
"I'll pulverize the hyena that did it!" howled the Shadow, dashing forward through the scrub.