"If not, for one black man there was in the country, there were a thousand white. They would come upon them in troops, even like the locusts; they would hunt them as they hunted the dingoes; they would kill them as dingoes were killed, and before long all the black fellows would be in the land of forgetfulness. What would it profit them then that they had speared a few white fellows?"
Craig stayed for hours arguing with these wild men, and left at last after having actually made peace with honour.
The cloud had rolled away, for a time at all events. In the course of a few days Archie and his man left on his return journey. Findlayson made up his mind to go on with him to Burley New Farm; for this Scot was very fond of an occasional trip eastwards, and what he called a "twa-handed crack" with Bob or Harry.
Everybody was glad to see him; for, truth to tell, no one had ever seen Findlayson without a smile on his old-fashioned face, and so he was well liked.
Bob came galloping out to meet them, and with him, greatly to Archie's astonishment, was what he at first took for a black bear.
The black bear was Bounder.
Archie dismounted and threw his arms round the great honest dog's neck, and almost burst into tears of joy.
For just half a minute Bounder was taken aback; then memory came rushing over him; he gave a jump, and landed Archie on his back, and covered his face and hair with his canine kisses. But this was not enough. Bounder must blow off steam. He must get rid of the exuberance of his delight before it killed him. So with a half-hysterical but happy bark he went off at a tangent, and commenced sweeping round and round in a circle so quickly that he appeared but a black shape. This wild caper he kept up till nearly exhausted, then returned once more to be embraced.
"So they've come." It was all that Archie could say.
Yes, they had come. Elsie had come, Rupert had come, Branson and Bounder had come.