Cows, sheep, pigs, all were gone; but the fowls and ducks were about the place and not likely to be driven away, so that there was no fear of a failure in the supply of food; in fact, they felt that they could hold out in that way for months. For if a fowl could not be caught from its night perch, it could be shot by day and caught up. The danger was the want of water.
So far there was plenty in the tubs, but they dare not use it for washing purposes. It was too valuable, and the captain’s brow grew dark as he thought of how they were to fetch more from the river or falls.
“We shall have to go away from here, boys,” Tim said, towards evening. “This place will never seem safe again.”
“Father won’t go,” said Rifle. “He never gives up. I wouldn’t, after getting such an estate as this. Why, it would be worth thousands upon thousands in England.”
“And it’s worth nothing here if the blacks spear us.”
“They’d better!” cried Rifle, defiantly. “They’ve had enough of us. You see, they will not trouble us again.”
“There!” he cried, the next morning, triumphantly, Lor they had passed a perfectly peaceful night; “the beggars are all gone.”
The captain, who was using his glass, heard the boys’ words and looked round.
“Don’t be too sure, my lad,” he said, sadly. “But thank Heaven for this respite.”
“Oh, we’ll beat them off again, father, if they do come,” said the boy, boastfully; and then he coloured beneath his father’s steadfast gaze.