the sensation which the old man had caused subsided as rapidly as it rose, and most of the tribe resumed their idle occupations at once. but big jack and three others lifted the dead and went rapidly into the bush. smith crossed over to the baker, who was sitting by the side of bill.

"what have they done with the old man, bill?" he asked.

"they will give him to the big ants," said bill carelessly, "and in three days his bones will be as white as his hair. it is a good thing he is dead."

"but why did the bloomin' old prophet want to do us a bad turn?" said baker.

"um?" said bill, as smith squatted by him.

"i mean, why did he say as the men of the brodarro was to 'ave no truck with h'other white men?"

"he spoke foolishness," said bill; "but, then, he was an old man. it don't matter what he said, as long as big jack likes you. and i like you," he added, with a grin.

"good old chap," said the baker, "and to-morrow, bill, will you show us the gold?"

bill nodded.

"show us to-night, bill," said smith, "there's a good moon, and i will give you a smoke. at least, the baker will, for big jack has my pipe."

bill rose and fetched his spear.

"come," he said, and they slipped out of the camp, and getting beyond the big trees, they were soon in the full blaze of the high moon, which shone almost like day. the shadows the trees cast were very solid and opaque; their own shadows were peculiarly black and clear-cut, and against the sky every branch was like a silhouette. when they looked behind them, they saw the big blaze of the fire like a great red eye.

"why do you make such big fires, bill?" asked smith. "do not the black-fellows ever attack you?"

bill laughed contemptuously.

"if they saw two men of the brodarro they would run like wallabies and hide."

"but they killed the slayer, bill," said the baker.

"the slayer was a fool," said bill, "he always went alone to get heads, and though he got many they killed him at last. for he had to sleep after three days. and when a man is asleep, a snake can bite him. but when two men are together, one can sleep, and the eyes of the other are open."

and he stalked across the bush.

"there is not a black-fellow now within a day's journey," he said. "they are frightened of us now."

"and i don't wonder at it," cried the baker. "i'm scared to death of you myself."

"eh?" said bill.

the baker went up to him, and felt his arm.

"by gosh! i say i'm frightened of you myself. i'm such a little 'un by you, bill."

"there ain't no need," said bill shortly; "but look out for my brother. he thinks the little girl likes you. and he wants her. he might kill you."

"what did i tell you, smith?" exclaimed the baker in alarm. "there it is. i'm courted by a young wild cat, and there will be 'ell to pay and no pitch 'ot, as i said before. i say, bill, when we get back, you tell that brother of yourn that i'm not on. you say that i think the young lady—"

"lady! what's that?" asked bill.

"i was only just respectful," said the baker.

but bill shook his head, and turned to smith.

"the little man uses strange words, and sometimes i don't understand."

"'e don't savvy respectful," said the baker. "well, bill, i mean this. i likes the girl, and thinks she's all right, but i want to get back."

"to your own tribe?"

"that's about it," said the baker, "and i don't want no wife to trouble me on the journey."

"if she was a trouble you could kill her," said bill simply.

"thank you," replied the baker, "but i don't care about it. so, you say to your bloomin' bloke of a brother that 'es welcome to the girl for me."

"i think she likes you," said bill.

"then my goose is cooked," replied the baker in melancholy resignation. "i want to sling my 'ook right now. 'ere, 'urry up, smith, let's do our prospectin', and i'm for offin it quick."

and he lagged behind, considering his prospects between the devil, bill's brother, and the deep sea of savage and unsophisticated maidenhood.

after about twenty minutes walking, they came to some broken ground that rose gently. here and there smith saw some quartz glittering in the moonlight. every bit he picked up was rich with gold; or it would have seemed rich to any ordinary miner. he also remarked some rocks jutting out of the ground. they looked like the outcrop of reefs. but still bill went straight ahead, and going through a belt of thin scrub, they came on a narrow valley about fifty yards across, and some hundred and fifty yards long. it evidently ended in the river, for the belt of heavy timber rose blackly at its south end. but in the middle of this gulley was a huge lump of rock, some yards square, which gleamed white in the moon.

"that's it," said bill, and the two miners went on, while he sat on a little knoll, which commanded a view of the near country.

"stop a minute," said smith, when they got within twenty yards. "stop a minute, baker. i can't believe this. man alive, it's all gold, with just a quartz casing."

but the baker went on, and was followed by smith.

all round the casing of the vein were scattered lumps of quartz studded with gold. but inside the casing it was pure, though here and there divided by thin bands of stone, for the grass and earth had been torn away, and sufficient gold cut out to leave the mass visible. smith sat down on a lump of stone.

"is this my luck after all?" he said. "oh, if i can only get back!"

and if the baker had been near enough, he might have heard smith speak the same name that he muttered on that night of his delirium.

but the baker was on the top of the golden hill. he was dazed, but, as ever, half-humourous.

"i suppose it's the stuff, smith, but i'm half inclined to doubt it. there ain't so much in the universe. if it's only just a lump on top there's millions in it; and if it runs a true reef, why, gold's come down in england as it 'as 'ere to the makin' of cookin' pots."

and smith joined him. the sight was one calculated, if ever any sight was, to make a man crazy who had been hunting for wealth but never found it. smith had to hold himself tight, and suddenly he leapt off the golden throne.

"come, baker," he cried, "that's enough. let's try and get away. the sooner the better. if we get through we're millionaires. and waiting won't help. come."

and the three men went towards the camp.

"it's very useful," said bill. "for it makes better waddies than wood. the black fellows never found that out. but they are fools. what does your tribe do with it, smith?"

but smith was not to be drawn into any more explanations of currency and exchange.

"we make things of it, too," he said. and after avoiding this opportunity of puzzling poor bill, he turned the talk in a direction which might be useful.

"have you been down the river, bill?" he asked.

but bill shook his head.

"we came here from the east the last big rain."

"how many boats have you?"

"two. we made them with fire," said bill proudly. "they are better than a log. for jack's father, who is dead, and was not so foolish a little while ago, told us about hollow logs which he called boats."

and he went on chattering, while smith was thinking how he could get possession of the boats. he wondered, too, whether it would be wiser to take them or to make some kind of an exchange. it was possible that the knife which big jack had might be considered an equivalent. he wished now they had brought their tomahawks, and pondered about the possibility of returning down the billabong for them. for with them they might make canoes for themselves.

but fate solved the problem for them far more suddenly than he thought possible, and solved it that very night not long after they returned to the camp.

"just sneak off if you can," said smith to the baker an hour later, "and try and find out where they keep the canoes. and see if the paddles are there."

"i don't like leaving you," said mandeville; "that's a fact, for there's some that's took up the old un's prophecies. that i can see. and bill's brother is talkin' agin us plain."

and when smith looked, it certainly seemed that the baker was right, for the objectionable suitor for the "wild cat's" hand was holding forth by the fire on a subject which made those with him continually look at the two from that other tribe of white men.

"never mind," said smith. "i'll stick to bill and jack, and they're all right so far."

so presently the little baker casually sauntered into the darkness, and went down to the river, with his heart in his mouth.

"i want more 'bacca, smith," said big jack, and smith reluctantly parted with what he had left.

"if you will send one of your young men back with me," said smith, "i will give you a great deal of tobacco, and many knives."

"um," said big jack ponderously. "how far is your tribe?"

"ten days' journey," said smith.

and just then he saw the girl baker feared so slip out of the camp on the river side. apparently her departure was usual, or not noticed. as far as smith could see, in spite of bill's suggestion that a troublesome wife might be clubbed to death, the women had a great deal of liberty, and were greatly considered. they were not the beasts of burden that they become in agricultural communities.

but when smith looked up again he saw that bill's brother was gone, too, and this seriously alarmed him. if the wild cat had gone after the baker with any notions of gentle dalliance on the river bank, it was possible that her savage suitor might catch them. he made an excuse to go into the bush, and when he was out of the range of the fire, he ran rapidly to the river. when he reached the bank, he went slowly, and kept as much as he could in the shadow of the trees. once, as he stayed, he fancied he heard voices below him, and then he made sure he heard a little twig break. he looked round, and saw bill's brother peering over the bank into the darkness.

smith's impulse that moment was to call to the baker to warn him, but the next brought him caution. he might have to fight the man himself, and it was certainly better not to let the savage know he was observed. he lay still, and waited.

but the next moment smith had his revolver sights dead on him as he was lifting his spear. he could see the man's very expression, the snarl of rage, the deadly intent, as he took aim. but before the spear could leave the strong hand smith fired, and without a sound the would-be assassin leapt in the air, and went tumbling down the bank.

he heard the baker cry out, and heard a woman's scream, as the whole camp behind him rose. he almost fell down the bank, and found his chum with the girl.

"where are the canoes?" he said. "he was going to spear you, and i had to shoot. quick, quick!"

and the girl ran to the dead man. when she saw who it was she came back.

"where are the canoes, girl?" asked smith again.

and she nodded, and ran as they followed her close. the next moment they were at the water's edge in a narrow-cut gully. the girl thrust the canoes out.

"we must take both," said smith.

and as he got into one, the baker sprang into the other. the girl shoved both off into deep water, but as the baker's left the ground, she sprang into it, and grasped a paddle. they shot out upon the slow, dark stream.

but behind them they heard a terrible shouting and clamour. and above the hubbub rose the cry, "brodarro."