“I ordered them to,” said Mrs Bedford, quietly. “Who needed rest more?”
At that moment Uncle Jack and Sam came round from the back, where they had been reconnoitring.
“Ah, Ned,” said the former, “heard the news? Too good, I’m afraid, to be true.”
“Yes, yes; don’t let’s put any faith in it,” said the captain, and he went out, glass in hand, to scan every patch of scrub.
“Not a sign of them; no fire. But—” He looked round again before finishing his sentence:
“No sheep—no cattle.”
“Not a hoof left,” said Uncle Munday, grimly. “But that is the most hopeful sign.”
“What do you mean?” said his brother.
“They seem to have driven everything away, and gone off with them into the bush.”
The captain did not speak, nor relax the watchfulness kept up, but as the day wore on various little things were done to increase the strength of the place, and one of these was to saw off a portion of a spiked harrow which Sam German had made, and force this up into the chimney some six feet above the fire, and secure it there with big nails driven between the stones of the chimney, thus guarding against danger in that direction.