“That they be,” said Tim; “we shall know all about ’em in a day or two. If they’d meant badly you said as they’d have killed us at once.”
“Yes, from what I’ve been told, it was a good sign their bringing up the women and children so soon. We might get them to take us to the white men they spoke about, who knows?”
The conversation, which took place as they were lying in their hut, was at this point interrupted by the sound of a high-pitched voice singing a sort of mournful ditty; presently other voices joined in.
“Hullo! let’s see what’s up,” said Tim; and from the opening in their gunyah they witnessed a curious sight.
Three or four women, or “jins,” were seated on the ground, singing and beating time with pieces of stick; a dozen little freshly-lit fires were burning in a circle, and in the midst of them were some fifteen painted warriors, white paint and red paint was daubed in regular lines over their faces and jaws, causing them to resemble so many death’s heads, whilst their bodies were streaked with broad white stripes, each rib being distinctly marked.
These white lines followed the course of their limbs, giving them the appearance of so many skeletons, as they appeared in the flickering light cast upon them.
“What a rum sight!” said Tim, who, with his brother, was intently watching these proceedings, as we have said.
“Yes, a sort of free-and-easy, I should fancy, but, look!” for as Mat spoke each warrior took up the refrain of the “jins,” and, whilst singing a hoarse chant, sprang high into the air, descending so heavily that the earth seemed to shake under them; then shaking their spears with a quivering motion, and uttering tremendous yells, they sprang again into the air and ran “amuck” against each other.
The “Corroboree.”