cautiously to
stretch out one hand towards his gun.

In an instant the black's eyes twinkled, and there was a movement in the
grass as of some animal gliding through it.

"Getting his spear," thought Nic, with his heart beating frantically, as
he drew himself sidewise toward the piece.

As he expected, the black moved too, but only as shown by the motion of
the herbage. In fact, there were moments before the boy began to exert
himself when it seemed to him that there was that fierce black head
before him and nothing more, and that the whole scene was nightmare-like
and unreal.

But with the action all became terribly substantial. He was reaching
for his deadly weapon, so was the black, or to get himself into a better
position for assault. And as Nic with throbbing breast drew slowly
nearer, never once taking his eyes from those of his foe, the knitted
brows and shining black face seemed to approach.

But he knew it was only an optical illusion caused by the intense strain
upon his eyes; and feeling that quick action was necessary, he made a
sudden spring to his right and grasped the gun, with which he leaped to
his feet, just as the black also bounded up with a long, quivering spear
in his hand, while there, plainly seen in the narrow band about his
waist, were the boomerang and club.

Click went Nic's gun trigger, as a thrill of confidence ran through him,
and, holding the piece at the ready, he presented it at the black's
breast.

At this the man made a bound backward, and throwing himself into an
attitude, he levelled his spear, as if about to hurl it and pierce Nic
through.

"I wish I knew nigger," thought Nic, getting more confident; "I'd tell
him if he'd go away I would not fire."

But no word was spoken on either side, white and black standing
motionless in their attitudes of menace, eye fixed on eye, as if each
were ready to shoot or hurl spear at the slightest movement made by the
other.

The situation at last became so irksome that Nic could bear it no
longer, and in a hoarse voice he cried:

"Now then, be off, and I won't shoot."

To his surprise the black shouldered his spear, and then obeyed a sign
Nic made with the barrel of his gun, turning round and beginning to
march away, slowly followed by the boy, who felt that if driven to
extremities he could easily hit the broad, shiny back before him, with
the muscles playing elastically at every step the man took.

"He understood the sign I