"Us wants Uncle Steve."
There was a plaintive appeal in the boy's tone which found an echo in the woman's heart. She sighed, but her voice was steady as she replied:
"Bimeby him come," she said.
"'Ess. Bimeby him come."
But the boy's agreement lacked conviction. A moment later, with his big eyes turned to the southeast, the way he had seen the expedition set out, he went on:
"Boy's Pop didn't come. An-ina said him's do. Boy's Mummy go 'way 'cos Uncle Steve said her does. Uncle Steve hims all goes, too. Boy want Uncle Steve."
"Him come bimeby."
The woman had no words with which to comfort. It was not lack of desire. Though her conviction was unwavering, she, too, in her heart, echoed the plaint.
For some moments they continued their evening vigil. The eyes of both searched the growing shadows. And, as was always the case, it was the child who finally broke the silence.
"Us cries," he said half tearfully.