"Yamin,"[11] said Kadok briefly. He seldom wasted words. "Eat little Missa if she not jumped. Now we start take you home. Little Missa mind Kadok and she go long home all right. You not afraid?"
"I will mind," said Jean, "and I am not very much afraid."
"We go," said the boy, and he flung over his shoulder a bag in which he had put his water bottle and provisions and started through the scrub. "Come after me and tell Kadok when you too tired to walk," he said to the child, and she followed him obediently.
She did not know why, but she was not at all afraid of Kadok. She felt he was telling her the truth when he said he would take her home if she was a good girl, and she put her whole mind upon following the difficult trail. The way at first led through a tangle of tropical vegetation, then the two struck into a forest of huge gum trees. Overhead the limbs made a lattice-work of interlacing boughs which gave no shade, as the leaves were vertical instead of horizontal.
The sun grew hot and beat down upon Jean's bare head, for she had lost her hat. Her fair hair caught on the long festoons of gray moss which hung from the trees, the flying golden fleece stuck to the rough bark, which was red with gum and very sticky. Her tangled matted curls, which had been her mother's joy, hung about her face and into her eyes so that she could scarcely see where she was going. The spinifex prickles stuck her ankles and legs, and at last she stumbled over a hidden tree root and fell in a heap upon the ground. At her cry Kadok turned quickly,
"Missa hurt," he said, coming back and helping her to her feet. "Not cry."
"I won't," she said, choking back her sobs. "Please let me rest awhile."
"Must go fast to get to water-hole for dinner," said Kadok. "Missa rest a little and then try go again."
She lay down on the grass and shut her eyes. Some parrots chattered and screamed in the trees above her, but the sun was hot and most of the forest birds were still, except for little twitterings among the branches. Kadok sat silent beside her. Much was passing in the black boy's mind. He knew too well the need for haste. The trip was dangerous for him as well as for his little white friend; he understood the danger and she did not. She felt only the danger of the forest, reptiles, hunger, cold and thirst. But Kadok had to fear both Blacks and Whites. Should the two fugitives run into unfriendly Blacks they would be captured, and if the little girl was not killed by them she would be taken far inland, where as yet white people did not rule, and all hope of restoring her to her people would be at an end. On the other hand, were they to fall in with any of the mounted police or squatters, Kadok knew that his story would never be believed, and that he would be punished for stealing a white child. All this he knew, that Jean could not understand, but he felt that he must make her see the need for hurrying if possible.