ription, it was
difficult to determine,--though, at all events, he must have come
through the sort of country he described. Perhaps it might be avoided
by keeping further into the interior or closer to the sea-coast.
The man might have been a bushranger, but he did not appear to be at all
afraid of us. As soon as he had satisfied his hunger he rose, and
turning to Mudge, "Now, master, I'll thank you to fulfil your promise,"
he said. "We want as much powder as you can spare, for it's bread and
meat to us; and I'll thank you for the knives and the clothes, and some
needles and thread. Here, just get a pencil and put down what we want."
"Suppose we refuse to give it?" said my father, astounded at the man's
impudence.
The stranger's countenance assumed a ferocious expression. "You would
find you had made a bad bargain," he answered with the greatest
effrontery. "When a gentleman makes a promise to me, I expect him to
fulfil it. I came here as a friend, and a friend I wish to remain. Not
that I want to trouble you with my society; I prefer living by myself.
But if you do me a kindness, I can return it; if you venture to treat me
ill, I'll have my revenge--you may depend on that."
"But suppose we were to seize you, and keep you a prisoner till we could
hand you over to the authorities at Sydney?" said my father.
The man laughed long and loud. "You would find that a hard job," he
said; "and I didn't come here without taking means to secure my safety.
So you see, captain, we are quite equal. Now, let me have the things,
and I'll be off."
My father felt that as Mudge had promised the clothes and other
articles, it was right that they should be given to the man. A bundle
was therefore made up of all the articles he had asked for; and as soon
as he had received it, with very slight thanks, he fixed it on his
shoulders, and took his way up the cliff. We were in hopes that we had
seen the last of him and his companion, being thoroughly convinced that
they were bushrangers, and desperate ruffians.
We observed that as the stranger approached our camp the black and his
family made their escape from it, and hid behind a rock watching him
till he had disappeared over the top of the cliff.
Pullingo shortly afterwards came to our settlement, which he now
frequently did, without hesitation, never being allowed to go away
without some article or other which we thought would please him, or food
for himself and his
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