e lay lost in those miserable thoughts he did not know.
He was roused from his lethargy by a soft kick, and, starting up,
he found the woman who fed him the day before beside him offering
him food again. She seemed to treat him as if he were a white pig
that had strayed amongst them. He was probably a less intelligible
creature in her eyes, but she knew that he must at least eat to
live.

It was a messy preparation, but he managed to eat some; and all the
driest portions of it he could extract unnoticed he slipped into
his pockets, laying in provision for possible starvation next day.
Then he lay down again and feigned sleep.

He looked through half-closed lids with longing eyes at the
peaceful Bolter. Eustace wondered whether he too had heard those
tantalizing coo-ees and ached to respond. What would be poor
Bolter's fate here? The blacks make the women of the tribes into
their beasts of burden when shifting camp; they do not habitually
use horses. The chief was perhaps only keeping Bolter as a valuable
addition to the larder when provisions ran short.

Every thought that came to the boy was horrid. He wished he did not
have to think, and as dusk fell set his mind to the task of keeping
awake after his captors had settled down for the night. It would be
fatal to sleep as he had done the night before.

The chief had been away all day, and was not yet come back. It was
possible judgment on the prisoner was suspended till his return.
When the great man heard of the coo-ees and Eustace's attempt to
answer, probably the boy's fate would be sealed. Escape must be now
or never.

Eustace made up his mind that he would start off in the direction
whence the coo-ees had come. It was the only guide he had, and a
very poor one, as had already been proved by the first cry he had
so unfortunately tried to follow.

He waited just as long as he could bear, after silence fell on the
camp. There was no question of taking Bolter. He was guarded as on
the night before; besides, he would have made too much noise.
Eustace dared not get up and walk himself, or even crawl. He had
invented a silent, gliding movement as he lay scheming--by means of
strong tufts of grass he meant to gradually pull his body,
snakewise, little by little away from the open into the wood.

As soon as he dared he began his weird progress, quaking at every
sound he made lest it should rouse those keen-eared sleepers so
close around him. The soft "frou-frou" o