Instead of obeying, the dog sprang to the door, barking fiercely.
Both Archie and Craig were out of bed in a moment, and handling their revolvers. Craig managed to quieten Roup, and then listened attentively.
The wind was rising and moaning round the chimney, but above this sound they could hear a long-prolonged “Coo—oo—ee!”
“That’s a white man’s voice,” said Craig; “we’re safe.”
The door and fort was at once opened, and a minute after five squatters entered.
“Sorry we came so late,” they said; “but we’ve been and done it, and it took some time.”
“What have you done?” said Craig.
“Fired the woods all along the gullies among the hills.”
“Is that fair to the blacks?”
“Curse them!” exclaimed the spokesman. “Why do they not keep back? The law grumbles if we shoot the dogs, unless in what they please to call self-defence, which means after they have speared our beasts and shepherds, and are standing outside our doors with a nullah ready to brain us.”