‘We rolled over and over,’ said Yacka. ‘I had no knife, and he was a powerful man. I caught him by the throat, and he lost the grip of his knife. I clung to him with both hands, and he managed to get his knife and stuck it in my side. I did not let go my hold. I became fainter and fainter, but clung to his throat. Then I fell across him, and when I came to my senses again, which could not have been long, he was dead. It was their lives or mine, and they were not fit to live.’
As they listened to Yacka’s story of this terrible struggle and awful end of the thieves, they wondered if many men would have had the courage to act as he had done.
‘The horses will not have gone far,’ said Yacka. ‘They were dead tired, I could see, when the man dismounted.’
While Will attended to Yacka, Edgar went in search of the two stray horses, and found them about a couple of miles away, quietly cropping the scanty herbage. He secured them without trouble, and was glad to see their precious treasure was safe, and also their guns.
They had to remain in this spot for a week before Yacka was fit to be removed, and during that time they buried the bodies of the robbers as well as they were able with the primitive means at hand.
Their progress was slow, because Yacka could not ride far, and had to be helped off one of the horses at different times to rest. It was lucky for them they had the two captured horses in addition to their own. Yacka guided them, and seemed to take a delight in hiding from them how far they were from Yanda.
‘Surely we must be somewhere near Yanda by this time,’ said Edgar. ‘I almost fancy I can recognise the country.’
‘You ought to,’ said Yacka, ‘for we are on Yanda Station now, and we shall reach the homestead to-night.’
They could not suppress their feelings, and gave a loud hurrah.
Yacka had spoken correctly, for towards sundown the familiar homestead came in sight.