a broad grin; and
the boy urged his horse in through the bushes, to find a skin tossed
down, and plenty of evidence of a sheep having been lately killed there.

He was staring down at the remains, while the dogs stood whining and
snuffling round, eager to make a feast of the offal, but kept back by
the blacks, who each held a nulla-nulla with its melon-shaped knob in
front of their noses.

"He! he!" laughed Brookes. "That's a clever sort o' dingo, Sam. I
never see one skin his sheep before and dress him."

Old Sam rubbed one side of his nose and looked at Nic, who turned
sharply to the blacks.

"Here, you!" he cried angrily--"you killed this sheep!"

"Baal! Baal!" they cried in angry chorus. "No kill--no mumkull sheep
fellow. Plenty mutton--plenty. White Mary gib plenty mutton. You
pidney (know)."

"No, I want to pidney," cried Nic. "Here, Bung, who killed the sheep,
then?"

"No pidney. Soon find."

The man, imitated by his fellows, began to search about, and soon took
up a barefoot trail and pointed to a drop of blood now and then where it
lay dried upon a leaf.

"Could Leather have killed a sheep and taken it away?" thought Nic.
"No--impossible!" and he was following the blacks in a hesitating
spirit, when Brookes stopped short.

"What is it?" cried old Sam, imitating his action.

"I ain't going to walk into no hambudges," growled Brookes.

This roused Nic into action.

"Here!--Hi! Bung, all of you stop!" he cried, and the blacks paused and
waited till they came up, looking at their young master inquiringly.

"Find tracks?" asked Nic.

"Plenty mine find mandowie."

"Black fellow's?" cried Nic.

"Baal! Baal! white fellow!" cried all three--"white fellow."

Brookes gave a ghastly grin and cocked his gun.

"I ain't going no farther," he growled. "It's walking into a hambudge.
Black fellows don't kill sheep like that."

"No plenty mumkull sheep," cried Damper. "White fellow."

"P'r'aps we'd better not go on, sir," whispered old Sam uneasily.

Nic said nothing, but rode slowly back to where the remains of the sheep
had been discovered, followed by the rest, the blacks chattering
together in a great state of excitement, and the dogs whining and
uneasy.

"Pick up the skin, Sam," said Nic; and the old man made one of the
blacks carry it shouldered over his spear.

Nothing more was said, Nic riding along feeling sadly puzzled, and
trying to follow out a peculiar line of thought with