But Smith shook his head.
"If he had been lost as a child it might have been."
And, with that horror behind them and death in front, they wandered on, presently half forgetting what or where they were. They sat down, and rose again, until it got almost dark, and just as they were failing utterly, they came out of the forest to a line of big gum trees.
"The river at last," said Smith; and he fell in a limp heap.
Mandeville left him, and running twenty yards, he saw the river. Across it was the light of a camp fire.
CHAPTER X.
THE BRODARRO.
"According to Smith's notion, it's too big to be black-fellows," said the Baker. "But black or white, it's all one! And here goes for death or glory, spears or grub."
And he cooeed very loudly, standing right out in the open, on the edge of the deep-cut bank. As his voice echoed from the dense trees opposite, he saw a figure or two pass in front of the blaze.
"I've roused 'em," said Mandy, and he felt his revolver in his belt. "If they're man-eaters, I'll do for one or two."