"It's not a bad notion," said the Baker. "And I'll 'ave a real swell governess from H'england to teach 'er the tricks. And are you goin' 'ome, Smith?"
Smith nodded.
"I'm not going to do any more mining, old man. I'll float a company, or get a syndicate together, to come out at once, and take up the mine. And, Baker, you keep your mouth shut. If we come across any one, pitch them the beastliest yarns about the country. And don't let Kitty give us away."
"I see," said the Baker. And they turned in for the night.
They walked next day along the river bank without much difficulty, for the country was fairly free of scrub. They camped at noon, and made a dinner of smoke. For Kitty could not find them anything but a few grubs, which they were not yet hungry enough to eat. They were hungry enough, however, to lose some of their spirits. It was all very well to talk about London, as if they were out of their troubles, but were they out? They did not know in the least where they were. They might yet be a thousand miles from the mouth of the river, they might be eaten by black-fellows any day, and if they were in no immediate danger of thirst, yet hunger fairly walked with them cheek by jowl. No, the end was yet unknown.
But as Smith lay on his back a little apart from the others, it seemed to him once or twice that he heard a curious noise in the far distance. It was so faint that he could not be sure, and he did not draw the Baker's attention to it. Sufficient for the day was the hunger and trouble of it.
Still, he did hear something at intervals, and it made him uneasy. Was it like the cry of some distant and strange bird, or what was it like? It might be some black-fellow's call. He got uneasy, and, rising, walked to the river's bank, passing the Baker and Kitty, who were both asleep in the shade of some ti-tree scrub, which came out on their flat.
He lay down where he could get a view of the stream, and hearing nothing, began dreaming about England, and the troubles that had sent him to the devil. He had been very weak. He wondered if any woman was worth it all? He decided that the Carrie of his dreams was worth it, and fell asleep.
He woke half an hour later with a strange sound yet ringing in his ears, and as he awoke, he looked across the river, and saw a party of black-fellows running as if for their lives. They were not coming their way, and in any case, the river was between them, so he lay still and watched. As the aboriginals ran, and disappeared in the thicker bush, he heard a peculiar and strange throbbing.
What could it be? He turned to call the Baker, but as he turned his head, there was a tremendous whistling scream, which echoed through the bush, and woke the others for him. They came running.