for more than five or ten minutes, but it
was absolutely necessary to stop the waste; for if once the overhead
tank was drained dry, and if there was no wind to work the mill for a
day or two, Sidcotinga Station would be entirely without water.

The boys did not stop to wonder who had done this dastardly deed, but
went to jam the plugs back again into their holes. But the plugs could
not be found. Something must be done immediately. It would waste
precious time to run back to the station and hunt round for something
to make plugs out of, so they started to fill the ends of the troughs
with sand and clay, scooping it up with their hands and ramming it
tight till one after another of the leakages was stopped.

When they were occupied with the fourth, and had nearly made a tight
job of it, Sax looked around for the native who had told them that
something was wrong. The man was standing a couple of yards away with
his shield raised. He looked for all the world as if he was defending
them from some attack. And so he was. Scarcely had Sax begun to work
again, scooping more sand and clay and plastering it smooth and firm,
when he heard the click of wood against wood, and a spear stuck into
the ground just behind him. Another followed and another with hardly
any pause between. The native still maintained his attitude of tense
watchfulness. He had already turned three messengers of death off with
his shield, and was waiting for more. None came.

He backed slowly towards the boys, still facing in the direction from
which the spears had come. Presently he turned quickly and pointed to
Government House, and then took up the same position of attention. His
meaning was quite clear. He wanted one of the boys to go up to
Government House and give the alarm.

Vaughan instantly jumped to his feet and ran, leaving Sax to finish the
work at the troughs, guarded by the faithful nigger. In an incredibly
short time Dan Collins and Mick Darby came running down, armed with
rifles and revolvers. When the stranger black-fellow saw them he
disappeared. No one saw him go, and indeed it would have been
dangerous for him if they had; for when two white men with loaded
weapons are looking for a chance to shoot a nigger, they are as likely
to shoot a friend as a foe. The night seemed to swallow him up, and
the white men and Vaughan, who followed hard after them, found Sax
alone. Even the three spears had been taken away.

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