most seems," said Uncle Jack one day, "that keeping a tame black
is sufficient to drive all the others away."

"Don't seem to me that Shanter is very tame, uncle," cried Norman,
merrily; "why, he is always wanting to go off into the scrub, and coaxes
us to go with him."

"I say, father," cried Rifle, "when are we to go off on an expedition
and have some hunting and fishing? I thought when we came out here that
we were going to have adventures every day, and we haven't seen a black
since that first night."

"Ah, you'll have adventures enough some day, boys. Have patience."

"But we want to go farther away, uncle," said Tim. "Are we always to be
looking after the cattle and building?"

"I hope not," said the captain, merrily. "There, we shall not be so
busy now, and we shall feel more free about several things."

Just then Shanter was seen crossing the front, munching away at a great
piece of damper made from the new flour Sam German had brought up from
Port Haven, it having been necessary for an expedition with a wagon and
horses to be made at intervals of two or three months to replenish
stores. They had had visitors, too, upon three occasions: the young
doctor, Mr Freeston, and the sugar-planter, Mr Henley, having found
their way to the station; the latter, as he said, being rather disposed
to take up land in that direction, as it seemed far better than where he
was, while the doctor casually let drop a few words to the boys at their
last visit, that he thought it would be a good part of the country for
him to settle in too.

"But there won't be any patients for you," said Norman.

"No," cried Rifle. "We never have anything the matter with us."

"Oh, but there will soon be settlers all about," said the doctor. "This
part of the country is sure to be thickly settled one of these days, and
it will be so advantageous to be the old-established medical man."

"I say," said Tim, as he and his cousins rode back after seeing the
doctor and Mr Henley some distance on the way, "Doctor Freeston had
better begin to doctor himself."

"Why?" said Rifle.

"Because it seems to me that he must be going mad."

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

"I SAID IT WAS A SNAKE."

"Norman, Rifle, Tim! Help! Help!"

"What's the matter?" cried Tim. "Here, boys, quick! There's something
wrong at the house."

The three boys, who had heard the faint cries from a distance, set off
at a run.

"It must be aunt. The girls and mamma are