That day’s march—to us, who had been out all the morning—was a very fatiguing one. We had, too, as I have said, to be constantly on the watch, especially when passing near thickets—so I will call them—of ferns or other closely-growing trees, which might afford concealment to the blacks. We knew that, cunning as they were, they were just as likely to appear ahead or on one side of us as behind. My father had given directions that, should we be attacked. Edith was to be placed on the ground, when we were to gather round her, forming a hollow square, in the same way that infantry are arranged to receive cavalry; but that no one was to fire until he gave the word. He always entertained a hope that the blacks, on seeing us well-prepared, would not venture to attack us.
I was very thankful when at length, just as the sun was setting, Pullingo called a halt by the side of a wood. It was somewhat in a hollow, for the sake of a water-hole which existed at the bottom. Our camp, however, was pitched on a slope where the ground was dry. Around the spot grew some enormous ferns, as large as ordinary trees in the northern parts of the world. We lost no time in making preparations for passing the night: our huts were quickly put up and a fire kindled—the grass surrounding the place being first carefully cut down, so as to prevent any risk of it blazing up and setting the trees in flames. This, in dry weather, is the chief danger to be guarded against when travelling in Australia.
Edith thanked her carriers for having saved her so much fatigue.
“Sure, it’s the pleasantest thing I’ve done for many a day, Miss Edith,” answered Paddy, with a flourish of his straw hat; “and of course I just speak the sentiments of all the rest.”
Mudge, who was not in the habit of paying compliments, smiled; but he told Edith he was very glad to have been able to carry her, and that he should propose making a litter for Mrs Rayner, and letting Harry, and Tom, and Popo, and me act as her bearers for another day.
Scarcely had we sat down to supper when we were saluted with the same discordant, laughing cry which had startled us on the previous evening; but this time, knowing from whence it proceeded, we felt no alarm; though I believe that, had not Pullingo killed the gogobera, we should not have been convinced that a bird could have produced such sounds.
Of course, we kept a watch; but the night passed away without any event to disturb our rest. Even before the sun was up, our friend the “laughing jackass” woke us with his strange cries. Pullingo would have killed him with his boomerang, had we not begged his life; and soon after the sun was up, I observed him flying away to a place of safety, disturbed by seeing so many people moving about.
As our rest had been cut short at the last place, my father settled to remain here till past noon, and to make only half a day’s journey, so that we might start at dawn the next day and make some progress during the cool hours of the morning. We therefore sat quiet after breakfast, enjoying the rest we all more or less needed.
Though I have not before mentioned it, my father, I should have said, invariably called all the party together for prayers, both morning and evening, and either he or my mother read a portion of the Bible to us.
After this had been done, Mudge and I took our guns, in the hope of shooting some birds for dinner, which we intended to take before starting. We killed as many as we required; and finding it very hot, we agreed to rest under the shade of a huge fern, while we sent the game back by Popo, who had accompanied us, to be got ready for cooking. Mudge leaned back against a tree and lighted his pipe, while I sat close to him, enjoying the comparative coolness which the shade afforded.