ty metal. A human arm must have thrown that horseshoe. He had seen
the second one leave the bushes where the man was in ambush. Now was
the time for action. Grasping a boomerang he ran at full speed up the
valley. He reached the bushes. Nobody was there. But, leading to and
from the hiding-place, were the recent tracks of a man's bare feet.
Stobart recognized them at once. The warragul doctor had thrown those
horseshoes.

CHAPTER XXVI

Arrkroo, the Hater

The native doctor fled, like the evil black spirit that he was, up the
valley. Although an old man, he was still in the prime of his
strength, and he knew the path to and from the Pool of Skulls so well,
that he had the advantage over Stobart, who had never been there
before. For the first few yards the marks of his naked feet were
clearly seen, and the white man ran swiftly, but the tracks soon became
confused in a mass of loose stones which had fallen from the cliffs,
and were finally lost altogether on the rocky sides of the valley, till
Stobart could not possibly tell which way his enemy had gone. He had
heard no sound and seen no sign of the running man, yet he knew that he
was close upon him when he was forced to give up the chase, and, as if
to confirm this opinion, when Stobart finally stood still and looked at
the great boulders above him, hoping to see a black human form flit
from one to another, a stone came out of the silence, hurled with
deadly force and aim. Years of danger with wild cattle had made the
drover's actions as quick as lightning. The stone was totally
unexpected, but he jerked his head aside just in time. Instead of
striking him in the face, it caught the brim of his hat and sent the
old felt spinning from his head. He jumped back, picked it up, and
crouched behind a rock.

Absolute silence reigned. The sun was very near its zenith, but in
that deep valley the air was still cool. Across the clear flawless
blue sky sailed an eagle on wide-spread motionless wings, wheeling
round and round in slow circles, wondering when another human victim
would be provided for him down there beside the water-hole.

After a time Stobart went back to the place of horror, with its charred
bones, its terrible design in skulls, and its golden-sanded pool. He
knew what fear natives have of dead bodies, and that there was only one
man in all the Musgrave tribes who would dare to play such a gruesome
trick with the remains of his enemies