ere is no enemy," cried Rifle.

"Then why did my uncle post sentries?"

"Because he's a soldier," cried the other. "Here, have some tea. It
isn't too hot now, and old Man's signalling for his dose."

"I can't drink tea now," said Tim, huskily. "I'm sure there's somebody
there."

"Then let's go and see."

Tim was silent.

"What, are you afraid?" said his cousin.

"No. Are you?"

"Don't ask impertinent questions," replied Rifle shortly. "Will you
come?"

For answer Tim cocked his piece, and the two boys advanced over the
thick grass toward the patch of dense scrub, their hearts beating
heavily as they drew nearer, and each feeling that, if he had been
alone, he would have turned and run back as hard as ever he could.

But neither could show himself a coward in the other's eyes, and they
walked on step by step, more and more slowly, in the full expectation of
seeing a dozen or so of hostile blacks spring to their feet from their
hiding-place, and charge out spear in hand.

The distance was short, but it seemed to them very long, and with eyes
roving from bush to bush, they went on till they were close to the first
patch of trees, the rest looking more scattered as they drew nearer,
when all at once there was a hideous cry, which paralysed them for the
moment, and Tim stood with his gun half raised to his shoulder,
searching among the trees for the savage who had uttered the yell.

Another followed, with this time a beating of wings, and an ugly-looking
black cockatoo flew off, while Rifle burst into a roar of laughter.

"Why didn't you shoot the savage?" he cried. "Here, let's go right
through the bushes and back. Perhaps we shall see some more."

Tim drew a deep breath full of relief, and walked forward without a
word, passing through the patch and back to where the tea-jug had been
left.

Here he drank heartily, and wiped his brow, while Rifle filled the mug a
second time.

"You may laugh," he said, "but it was a horrible sensation to feel that
there were enemies."

"Poll parrots," interrupted Rifle.

"Enemies watching you," said Tim with a sigh. "I say, Rifle, don't you
feel nervous coming right out here where there isn't a soul?"

"I don't know--perhaps. It does seem lonely. But not half so lonely as
standing on deck looking over the bulwarks on a dark night far out at
sea."

"Yes; that did seem terrible," said Tim.

"But we got used to it, and we _must_ get used to this. More tea