The Dingo Boys Part 16

"That's what I was talking to the young gents about, sir. I can't find her nowhere."

"Not find her?" cried the captain angrily. "I wouldn't lose that animal for fifty pounds. She is so choice bred. Well, saddle a couple of horses. You and one of the boys must go back in search of her. She must have hung back somewhere to-day."

"Can't call to mind seeing her to-day," said the gardener.

"Not seen her to-day?"

"No, papa," said Ida. "I looked for her this morning, but I did not see her, nor yet yesterday, nor the day before. I thought you had tied her up somewhere."

"Never mind, father; we'll soon find her," said Rifle. "She will not have strayed far from the track, will she, Sam?"

"I can't say, sir, now, as I've seen her for three days."

"Then you have neglected your duty, sir. You ought to have known every one of those beasts by heart, and missed one directly. It is disgraceful."

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid it is, but I never missed her, and I feel about sure now that I haven't seen the poor beast since three days ago, when you came to me and said you wanted to drive for a couple of hours, and sent me to mind the leading cart. Next day Mr Munday Bedford, sir, was driving all day at the rear. I was very careful. Shall I start back at once?"

The captain was silent for a few minutes. Then turning to Ida: "Do you think it is three days since you have seen the heifer?"

"Yes, papa; I am almost sure it is," she replied. "But have you been to try and find her?"

"Yes, every morning; but I never for a moment imagined that she was gone right away."

"I won't come back without her, sir," said German eagerly.

"It is of no use," he replied sternly. "We cannot wait here, perhaps six days, for you to go back and return. No: we may find her later on when we are going back to the port. We can't go now."

"Oh!" said Ida, piteously.

"I am very sorry, my dear, but it would be madness to stop. We must go on."

"But couldn't you get some one else to look for her?"

"Whom shall I send?" asked the captain drily; and for the first time Ida realised how far they were from all society, and that by the same time next night they would be farther away still.

"I forgot," she said. "You know best."

"Let us go, father," said Norman. "We boys will find her."

The captain waved his hand and turned away, evidently very much put out at the loss, for the mouse-coloured heifer was destined to be the chief ornament of the dairy out at the new farm.

"I can't help it, Miss Ida," said German, deprecatingly. "I took all the care of the poor beasts I could. I get all the blame, because I found out she was gone, but I've been right in front driving the leading carts nearly all the time; haven't I, Master 'Temus?"

"Yes, Sam; but are you quite sure she has gone?"

"Now, boys!" shouted the captain; "tea!"

They were soon after seated near the fire, partaking of the evening meal. The last rays of the setting sun were dying out, and the sky was fast changing its orange and ruddy gold for a dark violet and warm grey.

Very few words were spoken for some time, and the silence was almost painful, broken as it was only by the sharp crack of some burning stick.

Every one glanced at the captain, who sat looking very stern, and Mrs Bedford made a sign to the boys not to say anything, lest he should be more annoyed.

But Aunt Georgie was accustomed to speak whenever she pleased. To her the captain and Uncle Jack were only "the boys," and Norman, Raphael, and Artemus "the children." So, after seeing that everybody was well supplied with bread, damper, and cold boiled pork, she suddenly set down the tin mug to which she was trying to accustom herself, after being used to take her tea out of Worcester china, and exclaimed:

"I'm downright vexed about that little cow, Edward. I seemed to know by instinct that she would give very little milk, but that it would be rich as cream, while the b.u.t.ter would be yellow as gold."

"And now she's gone, and there's an end of her," said the captain shortly.

"Such a pity! With her large soft eyes and short curly horns. Dear me, I am vexed."

"So am I," said the captain; "and now say no more about her. It's a misfortune, but we cannot stop to trouble ourselves about misfortunes."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Aunt Georgie; and she went on sipping her tea for a time.

"This is a very beautiful place, Edward," she said suddenly. "I was saying so to Marian here. Why don't you build a house and stop without going farther?"

"For several reasons, aunt dear. But don't be uneasy. I shall select quite as beautiful a place somewhere farther on, one that you and the girls will like better than this."

"I don't know so much about that," said the old lady. "I'm rather hard to please.--Oh!"

"What's the matter?" cried those nearest, for the old lady's e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n was startling.

"I've got it!" she cried. "Oh the artfulness of the thing, Edward, that man."

"What man?"

"That black fellow. Depend upon it, he came here on purpose to steal our poor little cow, and he has driven it away somewhere to sell."

The captain started and looked excited.

"Oh no, aunt," cried Norman; "I don't think he was a bad sort of chap."

"See how honest he was about the 'tickpence,'" said Rifle.

"I don't think he was the sort of fellow to steal," whispered Tim to Hester.

"I believe that you have hit the right nail on the head, aunt," said the captain; and the boys looked across at one another, thought of the grub feast, and felt hurt that the black, whose many childish ways had won a kind of liking for him, should be suspected of theft.

"Well," said the captain; "it will act as a warning. Bought wit is better than taught wit. No more black fellows anywhere near our camp.

It is my own fault. I was warned about them. They have none of the instincts of a civilised man, and will kill or steal, or be guilty of any crime. So understand here, boys, don't make friends with any more."

"Coo-ee!"

The cry was far away, but it came clearly enough through the night air.

Then again, "Coo-ee!"

"The blacks," cried the captain. "Quick! They see the fire, and think it's the camp of friends. Away from it every one. Guns."

There was a quick movement. The ladies were got under shelter, and the men and boys took refuge in the shadow cast by the bushes, all feeling that a white in the full light of the fire would be an easy mark for a spear.