Jean stopped crying, for she found that it did no good. She curled up in the corner of the dark hut and waited to see what would happen. The Blacks talked and jabbered around her, but she could not at all understand what they said, and she was too little to understand that she was in any danger. She only wished with all her heart that she might see her mother. The Blacks talked together, and Jean at last was so tired that she curled up on the floor and went to sleep. When she awoke and opened her eyes she was surprised to find that the sun was shining.

She was lying on the ground under a huge gum tree. A fire of the dry twigs of the gum tree burned brightly, as a young black boy whom she had seen the night before fanned it with a huge fern leaf.

"Little Missa hungry," he said, smiling kindly down at her. "Kadok make eat. Be good little girl and lie still."

He took a hatchet which hung on the belt around his waist and quickly cut off a piece of bark from the gum tree, then took some flour from a bag and piled it on the bark. Water from the water-hole he dipped up with a leaf cup and mixed with the flour, baking it on the bark over the fire. Kadok then dipped fresh water from the water-hole, around which ferns grew as high as Jean's head, and turned over the ashes of the fire to roast in them a turkey's egg which he had found in the bracken.

"Now Missa eat," he said, giving Jean a piece of damper[9] and the egg, with a cup of water. "Little Missa not be afraid. Kadok take her to see Mother."

The boy's face was kind and Jean tried to smile at him in return, finding courage to say,

"Are you Kadok? How did I get here?"

"I am Kadok, yoia.[10] Black man found little Missa asleep by the corral. Want to show her to his woman who had no girl, all die. He take little Missa and mean to bring her back. Then white police ride and hunt. Black man scared, hide Missa, hide selves. Some black men say kill little Missa. Kadok say 'No.' His father chief, and chief say, 'Take back white Missa to mother.' So Kadok will take."

"Thank you, Kadok," said Jean simply, accepting all that he said. "How soon will I see my mother?"

"Don't know. Missa come long way on man's back. Must go back on two feet. Take days and nights. Not cry," he said as her face clouded. "Kadok take one good care of little Missa. Eat plenty meal, then we start walk."

Jean was a quiet child. Fergus had always been the talker and she had been content to listen to the big brother whom she thought the most wonderful boy in the world. So she did not say much in reply to Kadok, but obediently ate her queer breakfast, which tasted very good to the hungry little girl. When she had finished she said timidly to Kadok,

"May I wash my hands and face at the water-hole?"

"Come with me. I go see," said Kadok. She followed him to the water, always a precious thing in Australia, where the dry season makes it scarce. "Step right behind Kadok, maybe snakes," said the black boy, and she followed him close.

Trees had been cut down and many lay about in the scrub, which grew thick and higher than Jean's head, so that Kadok had to hold it aside in many places for her to pass. The water-hole was clogged with weeds and leaves, but Kadok dug about under the ferns until he found a clean pool, then filled his flask with water, saying,

"Little Missa wash quick." Jean dipped up the cool water in her hands, splashing it on her face. As she dried herself as best she could with her handkerchief, Kadok cried,

"Jump back, Missa, quick! into the scrub!" She obeyed without stopping to ask why and stood trembling, as Kadok came hurriedly after her.

"Missa one good little girl," he said. "Mind what Kadok say always so quick, then Missa get safe home. See there!" pointing as he spoke to something on the other side of the water-hole where Jean had just been washing. "What Missa see?"

"I see a big black log," answered Jean.

"What Missa see now," said Kadok, throwing a stick at the log. To the child's astonishment and horror the log rolled on its side, turned over and opened a huge pair of jaws, closing them again with a cruel snap.

"Yamin,"[11] said Kadok briefly. He seldom wasted words. "Eat little Missa if she not jumped. Now we start take you home. Little Missa mind Kadok and she go long home all right. You not afraid?"

"I will mind," said Jean, "and I am not very much afraid."

"We go," said the boy, and he flung over his shoulder a bag in which he had put his water bottle and provisions and started through the scrub. "Come after me and tell Kadok when you too tired to walk," he said to the child, and she followed him obediently.

She did not know why, but she was not at all afraid of Kadok. She felt he was telling her the truth when he said he would take her home if she was a good girl, and she put her whole mind upon following the difficult trail. The way at first led through a tangle of tropical vegetation, then the two struck into a forest of huge gum trees. Overhead the limbs made a lattice-work of interlacing boughs which gave no shade, as the leaves were vertical instead of horizontal.

The sun grew hot and beat down upon Jean's bare head, for she had lost her hat. Her fair hair caught on the long festoons of gray moss which hung from the trees, the flying golden fleece stuck to the rough bark, which was red with gum and very sticky. Her tangled matted curls, which had been her mother's joy, hung about her face and into her eyes so that she could scarcely see where she was going. The spinifex prickles stuck her ankles and legs, and at last she stumbled over a hidden tree root and fell in a heap upon the ground. At her cry Kadok turned quickly,

"Missa hurt," he said, coming back and helping her to her feet. "Not cry."

"I won't," she said, choking back her sobs. "Please let me rest awhile."

"Must go fast to get to water-hole for dinner," said Kadok. "Missa rest a little and then try go again."

She lay down on the grass and shut her eyes. Some parrots chattered and screamed in the trees above her, but the sun was hot and most of the forest birds were still, except for little twitterings among the branches. Kadok sat silent beside her. Much was passing in the black boy's mind. He knew too well the need for haste. The trip was dangerous for him as well as for his little white friend; he understood the danger and she did not. She felt only the danger of the forest, reptiles, hunger, cold and thirst. But Kadok had to fear both Blacks and Whites. Should the two fugitives run into unfriendly Blacks they would be captured, and if the little girl was not killed by them she would be taken far inland, where as yet white people did not rule, and all hope of restoring her to her people would be at an end. On the other hand, were they to fall in with any of the mounted police or squatters, Kadok knew that his story would never be believed, and that he would be punished for stealing a white child. All this he knew, that Jean could not understand, but he felt that he must make her see the need for hurrying if possible.

"Kadok," she spoke first. "How many miles is it to my mother?"

"It is many hours," answered Kadok. "We must go fast."

"I will go now," she said, getting up. "I can walk."

"Why you hurry?" asked Kadok, surprised.

"I want my mother," she answered. "She will be afraid for me. My father has gone away to find gold and she will be frightened for me." She spoke like a little old woman and the black boy's eyes shone. He saw that he had the way to manage her without frightening her with the dangers he dreaded.

"We must go fast so little Missa's mother not get sick without her," he said, and the two started on again.

By noon, slow as the little steps were, they had covered considerable ground, and they sat down near a tiny water-hole to eat and rest.

"Missa wash feet and rest while I make eat," said Kadok, and Jean bathed her bruised feet, wrapping them in wet leaves, which Kadok told her would take out the pain. "Little Missa sit very still while I find eat," he said. "I not go away." She was terribly frightened when he disappeared between the trees, but in a few minutes she heard the sound of chopping near by, and in a few moments more, Kadok returned carrying a dead bandicoot.

"Me chop him out of hole in foot of tree," he said, grinning broadly. "Him make fine eat."

He quickly made a fire, and cutting up the meat in pieces, put some of them on sharpened twigs, and held them over the fire to roast.

"Eat plenty much," he said to Jean as he handed her several pieces. "We not know when we find another."

She ate and found the meat very good. Some of it Kadok had rubbed with a little salt which he took from his provision bag, and a few bits he held over the smoke to dry. All this he wrapped in green leaves and put carefully with his provisions, getting Jean water in a leaf cup and making ready to start again.

"You good little wirawi,"[12] he said approvingly. "We soon bring to Mother her good luck."

The afternoon's walk was not quite so bad as the morning's had been. Kadok struck into a track which led through the Bush to the main road. Walking here was not so troublesome and Jean managed fairly well, though her feet hurt her cruelly and toward the last Kadok had to help her along.

"Little more walk, Missa," he said encouragingly. "We find good camp for night. To-morrow we get long way to home."

But Jean was almost past thinking of the morrow, almost past thinking of home. Her poor little body ached in every muscle, her face and hands were scratched and bleeding, and she was faint with hunger and fatigue. She stumbled on, Kadok holding her arm, until at last she could go no longer and would have fallen, had not the black boy picked her up and carried her. Laden as he was with his heavy swag, it was no easy task to carry a heavy child of eight, but he was a strong, muscular fellow, used to Bush life, and not tired as was his white charge. He carried her along the track some twenty rods, then paused and looked closely into the forest. It seemed a great wall to shut them off, but the keen eye of the Black caught an almost imperceptible opening amongst the leaves and he left the path once more to tread the mazes of the wood. Only a little distance and he came to a ruined hut overgrown with moss and creeping plants. It had once been a shepherd's hut and was a poor place, but at any rate it would serve as a shelter from the night and Kadok carried Jean within and laid her down on the floor.

"Little Missa tired out," he said, pitying the child's white face, which looked unearthly in the light of the sunset which streamed through the open doorway. Jean was too tired to speak. She looked at him wearily for a moment and then closed her eyes. "Missa must eat. Not good to sleep too quick," he said.

He made a fire at the door of the hut, partly for warmth, for with the sun's going down came the cool night dews, and partly to drive away mosquitoes, as well as to cook their supper. He then brought water from the trough, and made damper and forced bits of it between the child's teeth and gave her a drink of water. Little pieces of roasted meat he added to her meal, and at last she sat up and smiled her thanks at him.

"Good Kadok," she said, "eat some yourself. You are tired too."

"Not tired like little Missa," he said, showing his even white teeth in a smile. "Now must rub feet with wet leaves so they not be sore to-morrow."

Jean bathed her feet and bound them up in cool green leaves, tying them on with long grasses which Kadok brought her. Then she wrapped herself in the blanket the black boy took from the swag and, lying down, was soon sound asleep. Kadok sat for some time at the door of the hut, feeding the fire, then he too rolled up in a blanket, and lying across the doorway, so that no one could come in without his knowledge, he too fell asleep.