Page 99 - A Little Bush Maid

alone had an idea that they were not far from their original camping-place;
an idea which was confirmed when a long "Ai-i-i!" came in response to

Jim’s shout, sounding startlingly near at hand.

"Master Billy has been making his way along the creek," commented the
Hermit. "He’s no distance off. Give him another call."

"Here!" Jim shouted. Billy answered again, and after a few more
exchanges, the bushes parted and revealed the sable retainer, somewhat out

of breath.

"Scoot back to camp, Billy," Jim ordered. "Take these fish and soak ’em in

the creek, and bring back all our tucker--milk and all. Bring it--Where’ll he
bring it, sir?" to the Hermit.

"See that tall tree, broken with the bough dangling?" the Hermit asked,
pointing some distance ahead. Billy nodded. "Come back to that and cooee,

and we’ll answer you."

"Plenty!" said Billy, shouldering the bags of fish, and departing at a run.
Billy had learnt early the futility of wasting words.

"Come along," said the Hermit, laughing.

He turned off into the scrub, and led the way again, taking, it seemed to
Norah, rather a roundabout path. At length he stopped short, near a dense
clump of dogwood.

"My back door," he said politely.

They stared about them. There was no sign of any door at all, nor even of
any footprints or marks of traffic. The scrub was all about them; everything

was very still and quiet in the afternoon hush.

"Well, you’ve got us beaten and no mistake!" Jim laughed, after they had
peered fruitlessly about. "Unless you camp in the air, T don’t see--"