w arrival established itself in our
hearts.

And, without further speech, or attempt at explanation, Maloney moved
off abruptly to mix the porridge for an early breakfast; Sangree to
clean the fish; myself to chop wood and tend the fire; Joan and her
mother to change their wet garments; and, most significant of all, to
prepare her mother's tent for its future complement of two.

Each went to his duty, but hurriedly, awkwardly, silently; and this new
arrival, this shape of terror and distress stalked, viewless, by the
side of each.

"If only I could have traced that dog," I think was the thought in the
minds of all.

But in Camp, where every one realises how important the individual
contribution is to the comfort and well-being of all, the mind speedily
recovers tone and pulls itself together.

During the day, a day of heavy and ceaseless rain, we kept more or less
to our tents, and though there were signs of mysterious conferences
between the three members of the Maloney family, I think that most of us
slept a good deal and stayed alone with his thoughts. Certainly, I did,
because when Maloney came to say that his wife invited us all to a
special "tea" in her tent, he had to shake me awake before I realised
that he was there at all.

And by supper-time we were more or less even-minded again, and almost
jolly. I only noticed that there was an undercurrent of what is best
described as "jumpiness," and that the merest snapping of a twig, or
plop of a fish in the lagoon, was sufficient to make us start and look
over our shoulders. Pauses were rare in our talk, and the fire was never
for one instant allowed to get low. The wind and rain had ceased, but
the dripping of the branches still kept up an excellent imitation of a
downpour. In particular, Maloney was vigilant and alert, telling us a
series of tales in which the wholesome humorous element was especially
strong. He lingered, too, behind with me after Sangree had gone to bed,
and while I mixed myself a glass of hot Swedish punch, he did a thing I
had never known him do before--he mixed one for himself, and then asked
me to light him over to his tent. We said nothing on the way, but I felt
that he was glad of my companionship.

I returned alone to the stockade, and for a long time after that kept
the fire blazing, and sat up smoking and thinking. I hardly knew why;
but sleep was far from me for one thing, and for another, an idea was
taking form in my mind that