The thought cheered him instantly, and making a hollow mouthpiece with his hands to increase the sound, he gave the loudest coo-ee he had ever given in his life.
There was not the faintest response.
Again and again he repeated it, straining his ears to hear if there came a reply. More and more agonized grew his cries; so intense his silences between that he even stopped his breathing to listen. But there was nothing to hear. He got hot and cold by turns; he felt sick and queer. It was now hours since his departure from the Highlands, and he had had no food since the very poor supper he managed to eat the night before. The effort of shouting did not improve matters, and he was so hoarse at last he could call no more.
Then he completely lost his head, and began riding with desperate inconsequence as straight ahead as the trees would allow. Stay still he could not; the inaction terrified him. He argued that he must get somewhere by going on long enough—somewhere "through to the other side," as he expressed it.
"Why doesn't Bob answer?" that was the most troublesome thought. "Have I got out of earshot?"
Presently Eustace was beyond thinking; he went on dully because he felt he must keep on the move; but hunger, exhaustion, and the heat of the now well-advanced day were beginning to tell on him. The apathy threatened to become so settled that it was a mercy when Bolter presently stumbled so badly that Eustace had to rouse himself to hold on. Then it was that he noticed straight before him at last a wide gleam of light amongst the stems of the trees.
The sight put such life and spirit into him that he whipped up the now drooping Bolter, who also had just cause to reflect on no breakfast and general ill-usage, and they covered the ground as fast as possible, considering how unequal it was, how thick the undergrowth in parts.
A disappointment and a great surprise awaited the pair when they emerged into this open space—it was nothing but a clearing in the wood after all, dotted about with queer-shaped huts scarcely as tall as a man, and all made of pliable branches of trees interwoven with grass for walls.
Eustace pulled up short in breathless dismay, for a few paces away there arose from among these untidy "humpies" some twenty natives—erect, alert, all with poised boomerangs or spears ready to fling. It was a sinister reception for one small boy on a spent horse. Of course the keen-eared black-fellows had heard him coming from miles away, and were ready.
It was small wonder, considering his condition, that after one wild, appealing glance at the line of fierce, dark faces Eustace fell forward on Bolter's neck in a dead faint. He did not see the weapons lowered, or the gleam of something like grim amusement on the chief's face as he realized for what it was they had been so elaborately prepared.