convict, whom he had set down as a sneak; and the
good-humoured, snub-nosed, common scoundrel who had amused himself by
making grimaces whenever he encountered his eye.

But that which startled Nic the most was the fact that they were
inimical to the tenant of the cavern, for, as they watched so intently
that they had not heard the boy's approach, each man held a native war
club or nulla-nulla--poised ready to strike the poor fellow who raised
his head above the edge of the hole, and a blow from one of those clubs
meant death.

For some moments Nic felt too much stunned to even think, while the
silence and the rigid motionless position of the two men before him
added to the idea that it might be after all imagination.

Then all at once one of the men showed him that it was no fancy, for he
raised his eyes looked across at his companion, and made a mocking
grimace, just as he had been wont to do on shipboard, getting as answer
a deprecating shake of the head.

And what did it mean? Death to Frank Mayne as he came up. For it was
easy to see these were two of the convicts who had escaped. They were
to blame for the missing sheep, and they must have seen and tracked
Mayne to his hiding-place and meant his death.

This last was hard to comprehend, for why should one escaped convict
wish to injure another? But Nic had no time for arguing out problems.
The men intended harm to his friend, and it was his duty to try and save
him. He had his gun, and if he could only hear Frank Mayne coming, a
shout of warning would send him back.

But that gun: he wanted it for his own protection as well; and a shudder
of horror ran through him as at that moment he again recalled the deck
of the ship, with the convicts marching round and round, the soldiers
resting upon their muskets, the stern-looking warders with their
cutlasses, and that other man with the lowered, restless eyes and
savage, wild-beast aspect, who passed him by from time to time looking
ready for any evil deed.

How well Nic remembered now, and the old warder's words! and the cold
shiver ran through him once again.

For suppose that wretch had escaped as well, and was lurking about free
so near the Bluff? The idea was horrible, and but for Frank Mayne's
sake Nic would have gloried in seeing the mounted police at hand.

But that gun! How could he have been so idiotic as to sling it across
his shoulder just where he could not get at it without making some
rust