all day in a
state of semi-somnolence. Joseph explained to the men that the leader
was so disgusted with their ungrateful conduct that he would not
leave the tent. In the evening there was a slight attack made from
the southern side. This Joseph was able to repulse, chiefly by his own
long-range firing, assisted by a few picked rifles. But the situation
was extremely critical. The roll of the big war-drum could be heard
almost incessantly, rising with weird melancholy from the forest land
beneath them.

Despite difficulties the new crop of Simiacine--the second within twelve
months--had been picked, dried, and stored in cases. Without, on
the Plateau, stood the bare trees, affording no covert for savage
warfare--no screen against the deadly bullet. The camp was placed near
one edge of the tableland, and on this exposed side the stockade was
wisely constructed of double strength. The attacks had hitherto been
made only from this side, but Joseph knew that anything in the nature
of a combined assault would carry his defence before it. In his
rough-and-ready way he doctored his master, making for him such soups
and strength-giving food as he could. Once, very late in the night, when
it almost seemed that the shadow of death lay over the little tent,
he pounded up some of the magic Simiacine leaves and mixed them in the
brandy which he administered from time to time.

Before sunrise the next morning the alarm was given again, and the
little garrison was called to arms.

When Joseph left his master's tent he was convinced that neither of them
had long to live; but he was of that hard material which is found in its
very best form in the ranks and on the forecastle--men who die swearing.
It may be very reprehensible--no doubt it is--but it is very difficult
for a plain-going man to withhold his admiration for such as these. It
shows, at all events, that Thomas Atkins and Jack are alike unafraid of
meeting their Maker. It is their duty to fight either a living enemy or
a cruel sea, and if a little profanity helps them to their duty, who are
we that we may condemn them?

So Joseph went out with a rifle in each hand and a fine selection of
epithets on his tongue.

"Now, you devils," he said, "we're just going to fight like hell."

And what else he said it booteth little.

He took his station on the roof of a hut in the centre of the little
stockade, and from thence he directed the fire of his men. Crouching
beneath him h