Chapter Forty.
How Jimmy cried “Cooee!” and why he called.
“Why, Gyp,” I said in a low voice, “what is it, old fellow?”
He whined and growled and turned back, trotting towards the burning village.
“Yes, I know it’s on fire,” I said. “Come along.”
But the dog would not follow. He whined and snuffled and ran back a little farther, when from some distance behind I heard a rustling and a panting noise, which made me spring round and cock my gun.
“Followed!” I said to myself, as I continued my retreat, but only to stop short, for from the direction in which we had come I heard whispered, more than called, the familiar cry of the Australian savage, a cry that must, I knew, come from Jimmy, and this explained Gyp’s appearance.
“Cooey!”