interstices were filled with the fibrous coating
of the stringy-bark-tree, daubed over with
clay to render it wind-proof. The roof
consisted of large sheets of bark, and the only
window was an aperture about a foot square.
This, Jim filled with an old sack, which the
natives had probably overlooked. The chimney
occupied nearly one side of the hut, and
was built of sods, supported on the exterior
by a closely-slabbed wall, to the height of
six feet; the upper portion closing inward
on all sides to the top, was composed of
rough palings, or slips of bush-timber, split
to a moderate thickness.

The interior formed only one room, about
twelve feet long and ten feet wide, which
sufficed its inmates for all purposes.

Night speedily closed in, and in darkness
and silence sat Jim with the mangled corpse
of the hut-keeper in one of the sleeping berths
wherein he had laid it, and the dog crouching
uneasily at his feet. The poor brute was
with difficulty kept from howling aloud, and
once or twice he ran to the door and moaned
uneasily. He evidently comprehended that
danger was nigh.

How long Jim remained in this state of
suspense he could never be positive. It seemed
like half a lifetime, he said. After a weary
interval Sandie growled sullenly, and sat
erect: his ears thrown back, and his eyes
glistening in the darkness like balls of fire.
Listening, attentively, Jim heard a faint noise
as of some one treading on dry twigs. Then
Jim knew that the savages were coming.

Next moment the latch of the door was
cautiously lifted, and a gentle pressure made
against the fastenings. With a beating heart,
Jim held the dog, and by gestures forbade
him to move or bark. The wonderful instinct
of the animal enabled him to comprehend
these mute commands, and he lay down
quietly on the floor.

Soon the sack, which Jim had placed in
the aperture, was noiselessly withdrawn, and
a dark visage appeared in its place. And
now Jim could scarcely hold the excited dog,
who would fain have sprung at the intruder.
But the hole was too small to permit the
entrance of his foes, and feeling that every
grain of powder in his scantily-furnished flask
would be required, he even refrained from
firing, and on the withdrawal of the intrusive
head refilled the aperture with a block of
wood.

Whilst so engaged the natives uttered
a yell so unearthly that Jim shook with
terror; indeed, he afterwards acknowledged
that he was near swooning. Almost
simultaneously a rush was made at the crazy
old door, which nearly gave way, and
it appeared certain that another such shock
would burst it in. To lie still, and be worried
like a badger, was not in Jim's nature. With
his sheath-knife he cleared a space between
the slabs sufficiently large to admit the
muzzle of his gun, and in such a position as
to command the approaches to the door. By
the clear starlight he perceived some ten or
twelve naked savages grouped in front.
Again, yelling hideously, they rushed forward
for another assault. As they came on,
Jim levelled his piece, and fired both
barrels. In all probability this saved the
door, for two of the assailants fell screeching
to the ground, and the shock was but
slight. Sufficient damage, however, was
inflicted to break the upper hinges, and force
the door from its proper position.

Sandie, more valorous than prudent, sprang
into the breach thus formed, and was thrust
down by his master, just in time to escape a
shower of spears which the enraged blacks
hurled at the opening. The jeopardy from
these weapons was now imminent; but, by a
vigorous effort, Jim pushed the door into an
erect position and re-secured it with poles
hastily torn from the rough bunks, or sleeping
berths, of the hut. Then, re-loading his
gun, he repaired to his impromptu loophole.

He had done mischief to his wild enemies.
Their wounded had been carried into the scrub,
and a smaller party came warily out to
reconnoitre. Creeping round the side of the
hut, they came on again, but this time no yell
preceded the assault. Before they reached the
door, Jirn fired in amongst them, and again
they retreated, howling like wild beasts.

After this, all was quiet for nearly an hour,
and Jim even began to hope that he was
rid of his persecutors. To make all sure,
however, he closed the little aperture more
securely, shored up the door with every
available piece of timber, and placed an old flour-
barrel in the fireplace, to give due notice
of any attempt at ingress by way of the
chimney.

Insensibly, sleep overpowered him, and
he was drowsily nodding, when the loud
and angry barking of the dog indicated the
approach of some new peril. Starting up,
Jim listened with that preternaturally acute
sense of hearing, which nothing but the
consciousness of danger can possibly induce. The
only sound that reached him, was the rustling
of leaves, such as would be produced by
the wind sweeping through the trees. Sandie
still barked. Repairing to the loophole
Jim gazed out for information. Nothing
met his gaze in that direction; but the
rustling wind-like sounds approached nearer
and nearer. Feeling uneasy, he cautiously
opened another chink at the rear of the hut,
and peered forth.

For a few seconds Jim fairly doubted the
evidence of his eyesight. It was as when
Birnam Wood marched towards Dunsinane.
Not a living soul could he perceive; but a
line of great bushes were advancing—
apparently of their own accord—to the hut. Jim
scraped the hole a little larger; and, when
the strange procession came within range, he
discharged his gun at it. Instantly, all the
bushes fell prostrate; and the savages emerged