“Is—is that him?” said Jack, whose eyes looked round and large.
“Dat big bunyip,” said a voice that made us start, for Jimmy had come up from the dark camp unperceived. “Eat black fellow, white man, anyfing.”
No one replied to Jimmy’s piece of information, and we listened for some minutes till a faint rustling, heard first by the black, who stood ready to hurl his spear, made us all place a finger on the trigger.
But it was only caused by the dog, who soon after came into sight, with his tail between his legs, and his hair bristling with terror.
He ran right to his master and stood behind him, shivering and whining, as he stared in the direction from which he had come.
“Gyp see big bunyip!” cried Jimmy. “Gyp find a bunyip!”
“I say,” said Jack; “it’s my watch now. I s’pose you two are going to lie down.”
“Frightened, Jack?” I said maliciously.
“P’r’aps I am, and p’r’aps I ain’t,” said Jack stoutly. “I should say I felt frightened if I was; but if you two were going to watch I wouldn’t go away and leave you with a big beast like that about. He must be a big one or he wouldn’t have frightened Gyp, who’ll tackle old man kangaroos six-foot high. You can go if you like, though.”
This was a long speech for Jack Penny, who rubbed one of his ears in an ill-used way.