“Stand fast,” whispered Uncle Dick, “while I throw on some of the light twigs we put ready.”
I did not remember putting any light twigs ready, nor anything else just then, for my head was full of wild thoughts, and I was straining my eyesight in all directions, with my gun cocked and ready to fire at the first attack.
All at once there was a rustle as the twigs were thrown on the glowing embers; a sharp crackling followed, and a bright flame sprang up.
At almost the same moment there came from the trees beyond the sound of a rush being made through the bushes, and then the report of Uncle Dick’s gun as he fired twice.
Someone uttered an ejaculation, the rushing sound increased, and directly after there came a loud crashing noise as if someone had fallen; but he—or it—was up again directly, and our enemies, by the splashing and crackling sounds, seemed to be retreating up the bed of the rivulet.
I stood ready to fire, but reserved my shot, as there seemed to be no need; and as I listened intently I could hear Uncle Dick slipping fresh cartridges into his gun, and the click it gave as he closed the breech.
“Hadn’t we better get into shelter?” I whispered. “We offer such a good mark for an arrow.”
“No, my boy,” said my uncle; “the fire is between us and the enemy, and we are quite safe.”
For the twigs were blazing merrily now, and sending out a bright light, which spread around and made the nearest trees stand out and the little tent look bright and clear.
But the next moment something else caught my eye, and the startled sensation seemed to cause a catching of my breath as I stood pointing down at the smooth patch of sand beside the trickling water of the stream—a patch over which a wave must have lately passed, it was so smooth, while close up towards the fire, and where the full blaze of light played, were the objects which had struck my eye.