Whilst thus employed, Dromoora informed them that he and his wife would have the honour of decorating them for the battle.
Scouts had already been sent out to bring in all stragglers, whilst the men and women in camp were busily engaged in trimming up spears and other weapons, and preparing food and filling many gourds with water.
The brothers soon cut up a goodly heap of slugs, divided their one canister of powder into exact loads, and freshly chipped the flints of “Old Joe.” They had now reason to congratulate themselves that they had never wasted this powder, and that, besides that, they could rely upon its strength, having often tested its fitness.
By nightfall all preparations were completed to give the enemy a warm reception.
None of the scouts had reported the appearance of any of them yet; and as three sentries were to be on the alert all night, Dromoora said that they might sleep in camp tranquilly, for that no attack would take place before early dawn.
Besides carefully arming themselves, Mat and Tim had, with the help of the natives, prepared a cunningly-devised trap, in the shape of concealed kangaroo nets, the use of which we shall see further on.
In one respect Mat’s nature was a peculiar one, or, as he thought, peculiar to himself only; and this was, that he would shake like a leaf when waiting for a foe. It had always been the same. Once, when a boy, a burly lad had tripped him up purposely on the ice. Mat walked to the bank of the pond, took off his coat, and told the bully to “come on.” But the bigger boy had walked away, having forgotten the circumstance. Mat still remained, sending a messenger to say he was ready. When this was known, a crowd of his companions collected around to see the fun. The other lad was a long time coming, and it was noticed, to the astonishment of all, that, during the whole time of this “waiting,” Mat was trembling in every limb. But the village lads better understood their mate when, a few minutes later, after half a dozen rounds, they saw his antagonist lying, stunned and bleeding, on the ice, having been knocked clean off the bank by one of Mat’s terrific “facers.”
So it was on this eventful night before the great battle. Mat said to his brother, “It’s no good, I can’t sleep; feel just as I did before the bloodhound came at me.” And in fact he passed most of the night pacing, with short, quick steps, amongst the fires.
The sun had scarcely risen next morning when two of the scouts came rushing into camp to say that the hostile tribe was coming in full war-paint, singing their war-chant, and that they might be expected by the time that the sun was high in the heavens; further, that there were no women with them, and only a couple of lads accompanied the warriors.
Dromoora, on hearing this, ordered all the women and children to disappear and hide in the scrub, and at the same time asked our foresters to accompany them, “for,” said he, “if you are killed, we cannot use the ‘thunder-stick,’ as you only know its secret; besides, they will all try to kill you first.”