and went
to sleep. Now was Stobart's chance. He signed to Yarloo. The
faithful boy had not followed his natural desires to eat as fully as
his fellow-tribesmen had done, but had kept himself ready for any
emergency which might occur.

"We go 'way now, Yarloo, I think," whispered Stobart. "Which way
horses go?"

The boy pointed in a certain direction. "Me go find um nantu (horses),
boss," he said. "Me tie um up 'nother side sand-hill. By'm-by sun
come up, black-fella sleep, aller same dead; sleep like blazes. You
bring um two fella saddle 'nother side sand-hill. Little bit tucker.
We clear out. Me know um this country." He looked round at the naked
blacks, all smeared with blood and grease and dirt, and snoring in
profound sleep, and laughed quietly. "Silly fella," he remarked. "All
about sleep long time. My word, too much long time."

Soon afterwards Yarloo went off on the tracks of the horses, which he
had had the forethought to hobble before letting them go the previous
afternoon, and when Stobart was quite sure that everybody was soundly
sleeping, he went over to the packs, stuffed his pockets with tucker,
and carried his own and Yarloo's saddles out of sight over the
sand-hill. He returned for his rifle and water-bag, for he did not
know whether their lives might not depend on one or the other of these.
He did not dare to stay away too long from the sleeping blacks, for
fear that one of them should wake and notice that he had gone, so he
returned and lay down under a tree and waited for Yarloo.

It was nearly noon when the boy returned, and the expression on his
face clearly indicated disaster.

"Nantu dead," he announced sorrowfully.

"Dead?" exclaimed Stobart. "What, all of them?"

"Yah. All about."

The drover was too much amazed to ask any more questions for a time.
The blacks had certainly made a thorough work of their first slaughter,
but surely they had not killed the two horses which had been let go
since friendly relations were established. He looked so perplexed that
the boy started to explain.

"Nantu killed aller same cattle," he said.

"Yes, but what about Billy and Ginger?" asked the white man. (These
were the horses Stobart and Yarloo had ridden the previous day.)

"Dead," said Yarloo emphatically. "Me bin see um."

"How? Speared?" asked Stobart.

The native looked round stealthily as if afraid of being heard. Then
he lowered his voice and whispered: "Neh. Nant