The doctor uttered an angry ejaculation, and frowned fiercely; but it was no time for angry words.
“Leather, take your gun, and try if you can make out where the blacks are. Don’t fire unless they see and attack you.”
The man came with a heavy scowl upon his brow, shouldered his gun, and walked back in among the trees, while the doctor stood patting the butt of his gun impatiently, as his eyes searched the place in the direction of the water-hole.
“Our black must have known these fellows were in the neighbourhood,” he said; “and he has either joined them or they have scared him away. Joined them, I think, or he would have warned me. They are all alike, these men: they come and work for a time, and then tire of it and go back to the bush.”
“Here comes Leather,” whispered Nic; and the next moment the man came back at a swift run, carrying his gun at the trail.
“Well? seen them?” said the doctor.
“Yes, over a score of them,” said the man, who looked more animated now, in the excitement of the danger. “They’re jabbering together this side of the water.”
“Then they mean to attack. Be ready.”
The man nodded, and moved toward where Brookes stood cutting himself some tobacco to chew. Then he turned back, and there was something approaching a smile upon his face, which, in spite of sun tan and the deep marks on his forehead, looked almost handsome to Nic.
“Yes: what is it?” said the doctor.