"Good-bye, boys," he whispered, "don't fret 'bout me. I is goin' on a long, long trail, where there ain't no nigs an' no snakes. Never Never has made his last bush journey, I reckon. But—but—we reached the mountain." He ceased and laboured for breath, while the blood welled out from his cruel wounds with the exertion. Silently each pressed round and squeezed the bushman's rough and horny hand in a farewell grip. Once more the man whose life-blood was ebbing so cruelly fast away spoke, but now he was in the fantasy of delirium. "We'll get the spring all right, Bob. Don't worry, my lad—and the mountain, wi' gold and diamonds—we'll reach it, after all. Over the mountain—over—the—mountain." And so Never Never Dave went forth himself on a new quest with a smile on his lips, the smile of a man who knew no fear even at the end of his earthly pilgrimage. Emu Bill gathered the stiffening form in his arms, gulping down the great sobs with an effort, and tenderly he carried his lifeless burden over to the camp-fire, and sad indeed were the hearts of the melancholy procession which followed.
"I reckon Never Never has had his wish, anyhow," said Emu Bill, quietly. "He has passed in his checks with his boots on."
"May we a' go out on the long trail as bravely," spoke Mackay, solemnly. "Dave has gone over the mountain right enough. Over the mountain o' earthly difficulty and down through the valley of the shadow. We should not pity him now, boys, for he's free o' all the sorrows an' cares, an' disappointments o' this vale o' tears. But we mustn't forget the living, lads, though we respect the dead, or there may be more o' us starting out on the long trail before sunrise. Get a lamp, Jack, an' we'll have a look at that gully where they came out."
"You're right, Mac," answered Emu Bill; "I'll get a pick too, in case we need it."
The lamp was speedily brought, and they started over to the gully whence the natives had emerged, and as they crossed the scene of their conflict Jack stumbled over the dead body of one of the warriors. He shuddered painfully, and Bob, who was at his hand, drew him aside.
"There are three more of them, Jack," he whispered. "Never Never, hasn't gone under unavenged."
Mackay heard the words, and he laughed harshly.
"Ay, there's three more o' them, Bob," he said, "and there's a dozen more who feel a bit mair pained in their anatomy than we do."
They reached the treacherous ravine, and Mackay, taking the lamp in his hand, cautiously moved forwards and downwards into the deep recess, and gazed at the rocky rubble there strewn in bewilderment. In a moment Emu Bill stood beside him, pick in hand, but he too was nonplussed completely by the very natural appearance of affairs.
"I'll swear I saw them come outen this here hole," he said.