‘Long time yet,’ said Yacka. ‘Many miles’ tramp a day. Horses will knock up, but not Yacka, then you have to walk it.’
‘A pleasant prospect,’ said Edgar. ‘We may have to tramp hundreds of miles. However, we are in for it, and we may as well see all Yacka has to show us. I shall be sorely cut up if he has deceived us.’
‘Do you think he would do so?’ asked Will.
‘Not intentionally,’ replied Edgar; ‘but what may appear wonderful to him may be commonplace to us.’
Having got out of the beaten track, they had to rely upon their guns for food. They had an ample supply of ammunition, preferring to load up their horses in this way to carrying provisions. Edgar was a good shot, and seldom missed his mark.
‘We must be careful and not miss,’ he said, ‘for every shot is of importance.’
One afternoon they had an exciting chase after kangaroos, and Edgar and Will thought it excellent sport. Yacka followed the hunt, and when he suddenly vanished, Edgar in a few minutes saw him ahead, waiting for the kangaroos to pass.
‘By Jove! how Yacka can run!’ said Edgar. ‘Look where he is now. He’ll get a kangaroo sure enough, without firing a shot.’
They reined in their horses, and watched him. When the kangaroos found the chase was not so hot, they slackened their speed, and leapt along at a steadier pace. Yacka was concealed behind a huge tree, and as a large kangaroo went past he slipped quickly round and dealt it a terrific blow with a heavy knobstick he carried in his hand. The kangaroo fell down stunned, and with a whoop Edgar and Will rode forward, in case any of the herd should make an attack on Yacka. When they pulled up, they found Yacka had cut the animal’s throat, and was contemplating it with satisfaction.
Will, having dismounted, picked up the stick Yacka had struck the kangaroo with. It was smooth, hard wood, with a notched handle, and gradually swelling larger until, at the end, there was a sharp, smooth knob, which was so heavy it might have been weighted with iron.