He laughed silently at the girl's flushed and excited face. As
he reached out to help her over some fallen timber, she took his
hand with a firm grip that set his nerves tingling. They pushed on
until almost abreast of Red Mick's dwelling; then Hugh, standing on
a projecting stump, peered over the high bank to see how the land
lay, while his companion sat down and watched his movements with
wide open eyes.
He saw the cottage drowsing in the bright afternoon sunlight. It
was a picturesque little building, made of heavy red-gum slabs,
with a bark roof; the windows were merely square holes cut in the
slabs, fitted with heavy wooden covers that now hung open, giving
a view of the interior. In one room could be seen a rough dresser
covered with plates and dishes, and a saddle hung from a tie-beam; in
the other there was a rough plank bed with blue blankets. The door
was shut, and there was no sign of life about the place. There
was no garden in front of the house, merely the bare earth and
a dust-heap where ashes were thrown out, on which a few hens were
enjoying the afternoon sun and fluffing the dust over themselves.
At the back was a fair-sized garden, with fine, healthy-looking trees;
and about a quarter of a mile away was the straggling collection
of bark-roofed sheds and corkscrew-looking fences that served Red
Mick as shearing-sheds for his sheep, and drafting and branding-yards
for his cattle and horses. After a hurried survey Hugh dropped
lightly down into shelter, and whispered, "There's no one moving
at all. There's a newly-fallen tree about a hundred yards down the
creek; we'll get among its branches and watch."
They crept along the creek until opposite the fallen tree; there
Hugh scaled the bank and pulled Mary up after him. Silent as shadows,
they stole through a little patch of young timber, and ensconced
themselves among the fragrant branches. The grass was long where
the tree had fallen, and this, with the green boughs, made a splendid
couch and hiding-place.
They settled close together and peered out like squirrels, first
up at the house, then down the valley for the arrival of the sheep.
Both were shaking with excitement--she at the unwonted sensation of
attacking a criminal in his lair, and he with anxiety lest some
unlucky chance should bring his plan to nought, and make him a
failure in the eyes of the woman he loved.
"There is no one about," he whispered. "I expect Red Mick has told
the family to keep indoors, so that they can swear they saw nothing.
You aren't afraid, are you?"
She pressed his arm in answer, gave a low laugh, and pointed down
the flat. There, far away among the trees, they saw the white
phalanx of the approaching sheep, and the little lean dogs hunting
them straight towards the house.