rhaps you'll miss next. Why--"

Tim stopped short, with the little shovel of his shot-belt in his hand,
as he felt the long leathern eel-shaped case carefully.

"What's the matter?" said Norman.

"You feel here," cried his cousin.

"Well," said Norman, running his hand along the belt, "what of it?"

"Full, isn't it?" said Tim.

"Yes. Quite full."

"You're sure it's quite full?"

"Oh yes."

"Then I didn't put any shot in my gun, that's all. I loaded after I
came out this morning."

"Well, you are a pretty fellow," cried Rifle. "I shouldn't like to have
to depend on you if we were attacked by black fellows."

"Black fellow," cried Shanter, sharply. "Baal black fellow. Plenty
wallaby. Come along."

That day, though, they did not encounter any of that small animal of the
kangaroo family, which were plentiful about the hills at home, but went
journeying on along through the bush, with the grass-trees rising here
and there with their mop-like heads and blossom-like spike. Even birds
were scarce, and toward evening, as they were growing hungry and tired,
and were seeking a satisfactory spot for camping, Tim let fall a remark
which cast a damper on the whole party.

"I say, boys," he exclaimed, "whereabouts are we?"

Norman looked at him, and a shade of uneasiness crossed his face, as he
turned in his saddle.

"What made you say that?" he cried.

"I was only thinking that this place is very beautiful, but it seems to
me all alike; and as if you might go on wandering for years and never
get to the end."

"Nonsense!" said Rifle.

"But how are we going to find our way back?"

"Go by the sun," said Norman. "It would be easy enough. Besides we've
got the compass, and we could find our way by that."

"Oh, could we?" said Tim; "well, I'm glad, because it seemed to me as if
we've wandered about so that we might get lost."

"What, with Shanter here?" cried Rifle. "Nonsense! He couldn't lose
himself."

"Want mine?" said the black, running back from where he was trudging
beside the packhorse.

"How are we to find our way back?" said Tim. The black stared without
comprehending. "Here, let me," said Rifle. "Hi, Shanter! Mine find
big white Mary over there?" and he pointed.

"Baal fine big white Mary," cried the black, shaking his shock-head
hard. "Big white Mary--Marmi dere."

He pointed in a contrary direction.

"How do you know?" said Rifle.

The black gave him a cunning look, stooped,