“Baal go back,” he cried; “plenty come along. Mumkull black fellow.”
“No, no,” said Norman. “Black fellow gone along. Come back and take care of white Marys.”
“Yohi,” said Shanter, thoughtfully, and he looked at his burned arms. “Big white Mary gib mine soff rag an’ goosum greasum make well. Soff damper. Come along.”
It was not without some feeling of dread that the party returned toward the station, lest another party of blacks should have visited the place in their absence; and when they reached the open place in the scrub where they had left the cattle grazing, the captain reluctantly said that another expedition must be made to bring them in. But unasked, Shanter in his quality of mounted herdsman, announced that he was going to ‘’top along’ and bring the cattle home, so he was left, and the party rode on, the boys leaving Shanter unwillingly.
“Black fellows come again,” said Rifle at parting.
Shanter grinned.
“No come no more. Plenty too much frighten.”
All was well when the party rode over Wallaby Range and up to Dingo Station, and saving the blackened boards and shingles, and the marks of spears, it was surprising how very little the worse the place looked. For Uncle Jack, Sam German, Mr Henley, and the doctor—both the latter having elected to remain behind—had worked hard to restore damaged portions; and once more the place looked wonderfully beautiful and peaceful in the evening light.
Three days later, after being most hospitably entertained, ten of the rescue party took their leave to go back to Port Haven; the other two had hinted that they should like to stay a few days longer, to have a thorough rest; and the captain had warmly begged that they would, while Aunt Georgie laughed to herself and said in her grim way, “I smell a rat.”
For the two who stayed were Mr Henley the sugar-planter, and Dr Freeston.