‘Yacka’s a capital cook,’ said Will, ‘and the beauty of him is that he wants so little to cook with.’
‘He’d rather surprise some of the modern cooks,’ said Edgar. ‘They appear to contrive to do away with the genuine flavour of everything they cook, and Yacka makes a point of retaining that flavour.’
How they did enjoy this wild life! and, so far, their powers of endurance had not been severely tested.
CHAPTER XIII.
BY THE LAGOON.
They had been more than a month away from Yanda, and Edgar began to wonder where their march would lead them. Yacka did not vouchsafe much information, but kept steadily on his way at a pace that astonished them. Mile after mile was traversed, and their guide showed no sign of weariness or flagging.
One beautiful moonlight night they camped by the shore of a large lagoon, which reminded them of a small lake in their own country. It was a magnificent sight, this sheet of still water glistening in the moonlight, the trees which overhung it reflecting weird shadows on the surface.
‘I had no idea there were such lakes as these,’ said Edgar. ‘There must be a lot of good shooting about here.’
‘Plenty of ducks and herons,’ said Yacka. ‘I will get you some ducks without firing a shot.’
They were interested in watching Yacka catch wild ducks. The black crept cautiously into the water, and then sat down amongst a lot of cover, which hid his head from view. Presently they heard a call such as the wild duck makes.
‘That’s Yacka,’ said Edgar. ‘He can imitate the cries of all kinds of birds and animals. Look! there’s a flock of wild ducks coming over.’