"I think we'll best the niggers after all, Jack," he said. "I wasn't exactly willing to let you risk it before; but you can steer by the gunshots, can't you?"
"Of course," replied Jack, clutching at the nose-rope of Misery which the Shadow had relinquished.
"Well, you take the team into camp, and I'll run the niggers a bit o' a circus dance." He was gone at once, but not an instant too soon; the blacks were already within a hundred yards of them.
Jack continued his course guided by the reports which now rang out at regular intervals, and he smiled quietly to himself when a confused jangle of bells sounded away to the southward, and his smile developed into a hearty laugh when, with howls presumably of delight, the warrior band stampeded in that direction.
"I think the Shadow knows how to take care of himself," he reflected contentedly, as he continued his course in peace.
The Shadow's trick was certainly effective. It was also risky, but that feature seemed rather enjoyable than otherwise to the impetuous young Australian. Far to the south he sped, jangling the bells at intervals to draw his pursuers on, and when their noisy yelling sounded too close for his liking, he silenced the tell-tale alarms and veered off in a different direction, always taking care to work in towards the camp. A veritable will-o'-the-wisp he was, and the baffled natives soon tired of their hopeless chase, no doubt marvelling much at the extraordinary activity shown by the fleeing camel train!
At the camp considerable consternation was felt over the non-return of the camel hunters. They had been gone over two hours, before Mackay ventured to express his fears for their safety.
"The Shadow must have got twisted in his bearings," he said. "The bells were within a couple o' miles off when they started, and they seem to have gone further away instead o' comin' nearer."
"Mebbe the cantankerous brutes bolted," suggested Nuggety Dick. "The Shadow couldn't bush hissel' in creation wi' the old Cross showin' in the sky."