CHAPTER VII.

LIFE OR DEATH?

All that long sultry day Alec fluctuated between hope and despair. At one moment he thought George better, and the next that he was worse.

Murri, who in his wild, untaught way was as tender and gentle as possible, found some leaves of a herb which he said would heal the wound. He moistened them with water and pounded them between two stones and applied them to George's head. They seemed cool and refreshing. Alec and Murri had formed a rough sort of couch of tall grasses and leaves, over which they spread one of their blue blankets, and on this they had laid George down. Over him Alec, who was as natty and deft-handed as a sailor, rigged up another blanket as a sort of awning to protect him from the sun. Sitting by the side of him all that anxious day, with a heart full of fears for his brother and eyes that were constantly on the alert for the return of the enemy, Alec swept away, with a green branch, the noxious black flies that constantly tried to settle on George's semi-conscious body.

Murri assured him that, after such a terrible loss as they had sustained that morning, the _myalls_ would not think of returning to the attack, but Alec could not rest certain of it. He heard at a distance their wild lament over their dead, the shrieks of the _gins_, and the weird moans and cries of the men, but it seemed to him that they were gradually growing fainter and further away.

Murri, like the faithful henchman that he was, undertook all the management of affairs, whilst Alec devoted his time to his brother. He it was who hobbled and unloaded all the horses, and saw that they did not wander far afield, though they were not anxious to go far, even in search of food, in the great heat of the afternoon. He it was who found water, and filled the "billies," and led the horses to drink. He it was who killed the little bandicoot, of which Alec made a sort of barbarous but nutritious soup for George; he it was in short who did everything that day, and proved himself to be a true help to them. All day long Como, who knew that something was amiss, kept wandering aimlessly about, occasionally going as far as the native well that Murri had found, to drink a little, but always coming back to lick the inert hand of his master, which lay weakly and limply by the side of him.

Towards evening, when at sunset a breeze sprang up, and the air grew cooler, George revived a great deal. He was able to eat some of the food that Alec had prepared for him, and soon managed to sit up a little, with Alec as a support to his back, and talk.

"I feel quite well now, Alec, and I mean to talk, so don't try to stop me. Tell me, first of all, if you were hurt in the fight."

"Nothing to speak of; I got one or two nasty thumps from a _waddy_, and one rather awkward chop on the shoulder from my man's _nullah-nullah_, but beyond feeling a little stiff I'm all right, I think."

"Think! Do you mean to say you haven't looked at your shoulder yet?"

"Not yet, I haven't had time; I've been too busy with you. Now don't you excite yourself, or you will be ill again."

"Excite myself! I should think I will. If you don't instantly take your shirt off and let me see if you are badly hurt, I'll get up, and jump about and shout. What a selfish beast I have been to lie here comfortably insensible whilst you were in such pain. Now then, off with that shirt."

Alec did as he was bidden, for although George's voice was weak, there was the old resolute tone about it, and Alec knew that he would do what he threatened. He was glad, now that he came to think of himself, to get the shirt off, for his shoulder felt very stiff and sore. Murri had to help him, for he could not lift his left arm above his head. The _myall's nullah-nullah_ had made a terrible bruise, which had already turned black and blue, and in one place, where the flesh had been cut, the shirt adhered to the wound. But it was nothing of any great importance, and the hardy fellow scarcely felt anything of it beyond the stiffness, and a certain amount of pain. Cold water and a little bandage soon put it all right.

The next day George said that he felt well, and was quite fit to go on, but Alec utterly refused to do so. He said that a day's rest would do none of them any harm, and that he thought they might stay there with comparative safety, as the natives, after securing their dead, seemed to have gone away. There was plenty of feed for the horses too, which they might not get again in such abundance on the dry and parched-up plains between that place and the mountains. George consented to his brother's plan, though he chafed a little at the delay, for he felt really well enough to go on. It was wonderful to see the difference that a night's rest and coolness had made in him. Except that he was a trifle pale, and that his head was bound up, he looked the same strong cheery fellow as ever. He had a most wonderful vitality, and his health being perfect and his constitution sound and strong, he was able to throw off an illness that would have prostrated another man.

He was up before daylight, and, regardless of Alec's injunctions to "sit still" and "be quiet," he would insist on doing his share of the work.

"Fiddlesticks, Alec," was his polite remark to his brother when he asked him not to get up. "I'm all right and jolly as possible, and if you think I'm going to let you and Murri do all the work you are mistaken."

"You want your breakfast," said Alec, with a laugh. "You are hungry, and think us slow. Don't do the virtuous and pretend it is anything else--I know better. Well, here you are then, youngster; take this wood and make the fire up. I'll go and fill the 'billy.'"

After their breakfast, at which George certainly did not behave much like an invalid, they saw that all the horses were close to, and then they walked off with Murri to the entrance of the glen, near to which they were encamped. Across an enormous plain of sand and spinifex and tangled _mulga_ scrub, that was marked here and there with long dark lines of bush where the creaks and watercourses ran, lay the great blue mountains, towering high into the lambent sky, amongst which was hidden the golden treasure that they sought. It was a glorious sight, for not a cloud obscured the sky, and in that marvellous atmosphere every ridge and azure peak stood out as clearly and sharply defined as though no sixty miles of air lay between the mountain range and the place where the boys stood.

Whilst the lads were looking at this noble view, which lay spread before them like a grand panorama, Murri, who did not care to waste his time in any such unpractical proceedings, was carefully examining the great trees, under whose shade they stood, to see if he could find traces of opossum in them. Signs that any one but a native would completely ignore were all that he had to guide him, and his quickness of vision in detecting these traces was wonderful. Murri would saunter to a tree that he thought looked promising, and if an opossum had climbed it he would instantly detect the little scratches the animal had made in ascending. He quickly found a massive tree which bore on its bark the toe-holes of an opossum; he then sought for one of these that had a little earth still sticking to it. When he had found it he softly blew on the earth to see if it held together. It did not; it was dry, and crumbled away at once, telling him by its so doing that the marks were not very recent ones. If the opossum had climbed the tree that morning the earth would have been damp, and would have held together when he blew on it.

"Bail potchum" (no 'possum) "on um tree. Must go catch kangaroo, you _mil-mil_" (see); "clever fellow, Murri."

The native was away for about two hours, and when he returned he brought the body of a good large kangaroo with him, which he had stalked and killed.

This addition to their stores was very useful, and indeed, necessary, for although they had managed to get Dandy back again, all the provisions that Prince Tom had stolen from them and packed on him had utterly and hopelessly vanished. Murri himself cooked the animal, as is the right and prerogative always of the man who slays the game, and ate an enormous quantity of it also; but eat as he could there was enough for all of them that night, and for their first meal next day. They kept a keen watch that night again, but they neither heard nor saw anything of the _myalls_.