His father gave him an angry look.
"Afterwards go home," he said. "Let the creek alone, and don't talk such folly—Betty is more than five. Tell your mother I'm going to give it into the hands of the police."
Cyril went into the bush—not very far—because the growth was thick, and he had a great dread of snakes.
"S'pose I were bitten," he said, "and I just had to stay here by myself and die! Wonder where Betty is; it's very silly of her to go and lose herself like this. I never lose myself at all."
He came to a two-rail fence, and climbed up and sat on one of its posts, and then he looked around as far as the bush would let him see.
"It's better to keep near a fence," he said. "Then if a bull comes, you're safe. If he jumped over I could roll under, and we could keep doing it, an' he couldn't catch me.... 'Tis silly of Betty to get lost. I wouldn't get lost. You never know how many bulls and things there are about."
He looked round again, and then he climbed down and ran back to the road.
"I'll go home now," he said, "I can't find Betty anywhere. I've looked and looked. And school will be out soon, and how do I know Arthur Smedley took his lunch to-day; he might be coming home."
Whereat this valiant youth looked over his shoulder, and saw the boys running out of the school gate. So he took to his heels and ran home as fast as ever he could.