“I had no gun with me, so I crept out of the yard, and sneaked through the scrub to get into the hut through the back door, keeping out of sight of Bill and the lubras, who were all sitting on the ground in front of the hut.  We had plenty of arms, and I always kept my double-barrelled gun loaded, and hanging over the fireplace.  I crept inside the hut, reached down for the gun, and peeped out of the front door, looking for Bill.  The lubras began yabbering, and in an instant Bill dropped his rug and the axe, leaped over the heads of the women, and was off like a deer.  I took a flying shot at him with both barrels.  His lubra went about afterwards among the stations complaining that Jack Quart Pot shot Cockatoo Bill, and Parker (the Government Protector) made enquiries about him.  I saw him coming towards my hut, and I said to piccaninny Charlotte, ’No talk, no English, no nothing;’ and when Parker asked her if she knew anything about Cockatoo Bill she shammed stupid, and he couldn’t get a word out of her.  Who is that cove with the spyglass?”

“That’s John Campbell, the company’s storeman.  He is looking for a schooner every day.  He would have gone long ago like the rest, but he does not like to leave the stores behind.  Here, Mr. Campbell, wouldn’t you like to take a roast egg or two for breakfast?  There’s plenty for the whole camp.”

“I will, Davy, and thank you.  Who are the men in the boat down the channel?”

“They are George Scutt and Pately Jim fishing for their breakfast.  They were hungry, I reckon, and went away before I brought out the eggs, or they might have had a feed.”

While the men were roasting their eggs, their eyes wandered over everything within view, far and near.  On land and sea their lives had often depended on their watchfulness.  The sun was growing warm, and there was a quivering haze over the waters.  While glancing down the channel, Davy observed some dark objects appearing near a mangrove island.  He pointed them out to Campbell, and said: 

“What kind of birds are they?  Do you think they are swans?”

“I can’t think what else they can be,” said Campbell; “but they have not got the shape of birds, and they don’t swim smoothly like swans, but go jerking along like big coots.  Take a look through the glass, Davy, and see if you can make them out.”

Davy took a long and steady look, and said:  “I am blowed if they ain’t blackfellows in their canoes.  They are poleing them along towards the channel, one, two, three—­there’s a dozen of ’em or more.  I can see their long spears sticking out, and they are after some mischief.  The tide is on the ebb, and they are going to drop down with it, and spear those two men in the boat; and they are both landlubbers, and haven’t even got a gun with them.  We must bear a hand and help them.  Get your guns and we’ll launch the whaleboat.”