Conversation somewhat flagged after that. The events of the day had all been so strange and inexplicable; the lure of the mountain was becoming oppressively potent, and each of the staunch little band was filled with his own secret convictions regarding what might lie beyond.
"Better turn into your blankets, boys," said Mackay, at length. "You'll need all your energies in the morning. I'm going to keep watch and see that nothing happens while you sleep. I'm not going to risk another wipe out in this quarter."
"You ain't goin' to do sentry go on your own," spoke Never Never Dave. "I reckon I'll take my turn."
"An' me, of course!" cried Emu Bill.
"And ain't the poor, low-down Shadow any good?" complained that individual, pathetically. "Let me do a prance round, boss. I ain't a bit sleepy."
"Let Jack and me take it for the first night," said Bob, quietly.
Mackay laughed. "I know you are all vera willing, my lads, but the first night is my care; I'll ask Bob, who is next in responsibility, to take part o' the watch. Jack and the Shadow will be on duty to-morrow night, and you, Bill and Never Never, can take the next;" which equable arrangement appeared to suit every one.
Then Bob arose, rifle in hand, and stepped forward.
"No, no, Bob; not yet," said Mackay. "I'll call you in three or four hours to take a spell. Lie down and sleep for a bit, my lad."