Dromoora now complimented our hero upon his stalking powers, telling him that no black in the whole of the Waigonda tribe could have procured the guns more neatly.
“I was so glad,” he said, “that you did not try to kill the man when you were creeping upon him, as I should have done had I not known something.
“I saw at the last that you would get the worst of it, and therefore cried out telling you where to shoot.
“For that man has iron all over his body, head and neck!!!
“And when you were going to shoot at his neck he was just turning, when all the lead would have struck against the iron skin; it’s all hidden, but I will show it you; I found this out when I tried to drag him off his horse, but my knife went into his leg, and I knew there was no iron there; let us take his clothes off and you shall see.”
Mat, who had listened rather impatiently to the rapidly delivered utterances of the now excited chief, replied,—
“Yes, yes, but first where is the white girl?”
“In that cave,” promptly replied Dromoora. “Tracks go in, none come out.”
Together they searched the cave, but found it empty, as far as they could see, so Mat felt for his matches, but not finding them at the moment bade Dromoora fetch a fire-stick, when suddenly a stone came rolling down from the upper part of the cavern, which lay buried in darkness.
“Quick! fire-stick,” shouted Mat. The chief seized one from the small fire outside, and returning, blew it into a flame, when to Mat’s intense relief and joy they discovered Annie, lying on a ledge far up the cave, with feet and hands tied, and a handkerchief bound round her mouth. To cut through cords and handkerchief was the work of an instant, and the two men then carried her into the open air, and laying her gently down on some soft grass under the great ti-tree, placed water by her side, and left her to recover herself.