It was almost daylight when they got there. But a thick fog came up with the dawn, and hidden under its friendly canopy they rowed round until they struck a little reedy bay, where they could not be seen from the opposite bank or noticed by chance steamers. Tired out, they ran in here, and, getting their tent unrolled, spread it over them in the boat, and stretching themselves out on the bottom, with a seat for a pillow, fell fast asleep.
The dreams of the adventurers were troubled. Their minds went over the recent tragedy, of which they had been the unwilling and unexpected witnesses.
They heard again the low groaning of the departing storm, saw the wicked glare of the sheet lightning, the darkness, and the deed.
At times either lad would start up and murmur in his sleep; but they were young and healthy, and it was not till the sun rose high overhead that they awoke.
The morning was cool, bright, and lovely.
They stripped and dived out of the boat, and paddled round, and then they went ashore and boiled their billy in the scrub, and had breakfast.
Dave had commandeered two or three bottles of home-made jam from the farm cupboard, and they had enough bread to do for the meal.
“Look ’ere,” he began, “I reckon we better go an’ explore this island for a start. If she turns out all right we’ll stay on, and make it our headquarters till we see what happens.”
Tom, on a good sleep and a well-filled stomach, was already forgetting the tragic event of the night before. Not so Dave, who was younger, and probably less hardened.
“But,” he argued, “what about the people that’ll be goin’ up an’ down the river lookin’ for the cove that did the murder?”
“Nobody knows he did a murder except you an’ me,” responded Tom, “an’ we ain’t goin’ to tell till the trial. Then we’ll come up in court an’ be put in the box, an’ swore.”
“What box?” asked Dave. “Do they put you in a box?”
“I don’t want to go in no box,” replied Dave. “What’s it like?”
“Something like a hen-coop,” exclaimed Tom, cheerfully inventing. “You got to put your tongue out through a hole and kiss the book.”
“Callin’ God to strike you dead if you tell a lie,” exclaimed Tom reverently. “You don’t want to tell no lies when you’re on your oath. There was a cove in Bourke who was struck dead in the witness-box.”