"The Slayer was a fool," said Bill, "He always went alone to get heads, and though he got many they killed him at last. For he had to sleep after three days. And when a man is asleep, a snake can bite him. But when two men are together, one can sleep, and the eyes of the other are open."
And he stalked across the bush.
"There is not a black-fellow now within a day's journey," he said. "They are frightened of us now."
"And I don't wonder at it," cried the Baker. "I'm scared to death of you myself."
"Eh?" said Bill.
The Baker went up to him, and felt his arm.
"By Gosh! I say I'm frightened of you myself. I'm such a little 'un by you, Bill."
"There ain't no need," said Bill shortly; "but look out for my brother. He thinks the little girl likes you. And he wants her. He might kill you."
"What did I tell you, Smith?" exclaimed the Baker in alarm. "There it is. I'm courted by a young wild cat, and there will be 'ell to pay and no pitch 'ot, as I said before. I say, Bill, when we get back, you tell that brother of yourn that I'm not on. You say that I think the young lady—"
"Lady! What's that?" asked Bill.