“It’s a ill wind that blows nobody any good,” the Maluka said, drawing attention to Jack’s sudden interest in the proceedings.

Apart from sterling worth of character, the Dandy was all contrast to the Quiet Stockman:  quick, alert, and sociable, and brimming over with quiet tact and thoughtfulness, and the Maluka knew I was in good hands.  But the Dandy had his work to attend to; and after watching till the bush had swallowed up the last of the pack-team, I went to the wood-heap for company and consolation.  Had the Darwin ladies seen me then, they would have been justified in saying, “I told you so.”

There was plenty of company at the wood-heap, but the consolation was doubtful in character.  Goggle-Eye and three other old black fellows were gossiping there, and after a peculiar grin of welcome, they expressed great fear lest the homestead should be attacked by “outside” blacks during the Maluka’s absence.  “Might it,” they said, and offered to sleep in the garden near me, as no doubt “missus would be frightened fellow” to sleep alone.

“Me big mob frightened fellow longa wild black fellow,” Goggle-Eye said, rather overdoing the part; and the other old rascals giggled nervously, and said “My word!” But sly, watchful glances made me sure they were only probing to find if fear had kept the missus at the homestead.  Of course, if it had, a little harmless bullying for tobacco could be safely indulged in when the Dandy was busy at the yards.

Fortunately, Dan’s system of education provided for all emergencies; and remembering his counsel to “die rather than own to a black fellow that you were frightened of anything,” I refused their offer of protection, and declared so emphatically that there was nothing in heaven or earth that I was afraid to tackle single-handed, that I almost believed it myself.

There was no doubt they believed it, for they murmured in admiration “My word!  Missus big mob cheeky fellow all right.”  But in their admiration they forgot that they were supposed to be quaking with fear themselves, and took no precautions against the pretended attack.  “Putting themselves away properly,” the Dandy said when I told him about it.

“It was a try-on all right,” he added.  “Evidence was against you, but they struck an unexpected snag.  You’ll have to keep it up, though”; and deciding “there was nothing in the yarn,” the Dandy slept in the Quarters, and I in the House, leaving the doors and windows open as usual.

When this was reported at dawn by Billy Muck, who had taken no part in the intimidation scheme, a wholesome awe crept into the old men’s admiration; for a black fellow is fairly logical in these matters.

To him, the man who crouches behind barred doors is a coward, and may be attacked without much risk, while he who relies only on his own strength appears as a Goliath defying the armies of a nation, and is best left alone, lest he develop into a Samson annihilating Philistines.  Fortunately for my reputation, only the Dandy knew that we considered open doors easier to get out of than closed ones, and that my revolver was to be fired to call him from the Quarters if anything alarming occurred.