He turned sharply, made a terrible grimace at Aunt Georgie, shook his spear, struck an attitude, as if about to throw his spear at her, raised it again, and then threw the bread high up, caught it as it came down on the point, shouldered his weapon, and marched away into the darkness, which seemed to swallow him up directly.
“There, good people,” said the captain merrily, “now time for bed.”
Ten minutes later the embers had been raked together, watch set, and for the most part the little party dropped asleep at once, to be awakened by the chiming notes of birds, the peculiar whistle of the piping crows, and the shrieks of a flock of gloriously painted parrots that were busy over the fruit in a neighbouring tree.
Chapter Five.
“How many did you see?”
It was only dawn, but German had seen that the great kettle was boiling where it hung over the wood fire, and that the cattle were all safe, and enjoying their morning repast of rich, green, dewy grass. The boys were up and off at once, full of the life and vigour given by a night’s rest in the pure fresh air, and away down to the river side to have a bath before breakfast.
Then, just as flecks of orange were beginning to appear, Aunt Georgie came out of the tent tying on an apron before picking up a basket, and in a businesslike way going to the fire, where she opened the canister, poured some tea into a bit of muslin, and tied it up loosely, as if she were about to make a tea-pudding.
“Too much water, Samuel,” she said; “pour half away.”