Story 5—Chapter 4.
A short time before this, Troloo, who had learned to be very useful with the sheep, had gone off without giving any warning. It was the way of black fellows, so Joseph could not complain, though he was very sorry to lose him, especially when there was so much work to be done.
Joseph did not let any of his family be idle. They had learned to make and to do all sorts of things. They made all their candles and soap. They spun wool when their fingers had nothing else to do, and then knitted it into socks and waistcoats. The boys could knit, and when they were out shepherding, they had plenty of time to make all the socks they could wear. The younger ones, among other things, learned to make baskets out of long reeds, which they gathered near the creek. One day, when they had used up all their reeds, Nancy, with little Bill and Mary, set out to gather a fresh stock. When they got down to the edge of the creek they saw some long reeds growing on the other side. “See, see, how fine and tall they are, Nancy; we must go over and get them,” cried little Bill. “I know a place higher up where we can cross easily.”
Nancy saw no harm in doing as Bill said, for they could get no reeds on that side. They went on and on, and still they did not get to the place he spoke of. “It can only be a little farther; come on, Nancy,” he cried out, running on with Mary. Nancy followed. “Here it is,” he said, at last, and they began to cross. The water deepened. “No fear; do you, Nancy, lift up Mary, and I can get across easily enough,” said Bill. They all got safe over. The creek twisted a good deal, and Bill thought, and Nancy thought also, that they would make a short cut across the country from the place where they then were to that where the rushes grew. A hill rose up close to the creek, and they were certain that if they went round it they should find the water on the other side. The sky was covered with clouds and the sun was not to be seen, so that there were no shadows to guide them. They walked on and on, thinking each moment that they should reach the river. Little Bill was sure that they could not have made a mistake, and ran on before his sisters shouting out, “Come on, Nancy; come on, Mary.” The girls followed as fast as they could, but there were no signs of the creek. They began to be puzzled. Nancy fancied that Bill must have made a mistake. “No, no; it’s farther off than I thought, that’s all,” said Bill. “We shan’t find it by standing still.”
Bill was a sturdy little chap, though so young. “Mary bery, bery tired,” cried the youngest girl. She couldn’t speak plain, she was so young.
“Well, sit down, little one, and rest, and we’ll see what we’ve got for you,” said Bill, in an encouraging tone—he dearly loved little Mary. He searched in his pockets and brought out some cold damper and cheese, and some biscuit and raisins, and several other articles. The children all sat down and feasted off the food. It revived them.
“We must get on now,” said Nancy, rising. “O Bill, where can we have got to?”
“All right,” answered Bill, “we shall find the water in ten minutes; only we must keep moving.” They went on again for ten minutes, twenty, thirty, an hour or more. Bill at last began to cry and wring his hands. “Oh dear, oh dear, we have lost our way!”