“Of course they are not,” said the captain, quickly. “There is nothing to be alarmed about.”
“Father says there’s nothing to be alarmed about,” whispered Rifle that night, when the boys retired to the part of the house they called the barracks.
“Yes, I heard him,” said Norman, softly. “Talk low, Tim’s asleep.”
“No, I’m not,” said that individual. “I’m awake as you are. You’re going to talk about uncles’ whispering together, and then going and loading the guns and pistols.”
Norman was silent for a few moments.
“Yes,” he said at last. “It means that they are very uneasy about the black fellows.”
“And a fight,” said Rifle.
“I hope not, boys. One doesn’t want to kill.”
“But one doesn’t want the myall blacks to kill us,” said Rifle. “Well, they will not come to-night, will they?”
“If they do,” replied Norman, “father will soon wake us up, if it’s only to load the guns for them. They’re sure to sit up and watch in turns with Sourkrout. Shall we dress again, and go and offer to help?”