hat he will attempt to return to it. Do you
think, Doyle, that you could manage to keep him here?"

"I'll try, your honour; and I'm ready enough myself to remain, if
anybody will stay with me," answered Paddy.

"I will," said Harry, who observed that the other men did not answer
readily.

"So will I," I said, "if you wish it, Mudge."

"No," he answered; "two are sufficient, and you may be wanted to bring
up the boat. As we have the tide with us, we may reach the camp and be
back here soon after nightfall; and we now know the river sufficiently
well to pull up in the dark."

Mudge desired Doyle to place the goods on a bed of bark slabs, and to
build a hut over them of the same material, so that, should rain come
on, they might be preserved from wet. Pullingo, on seeing that we left
our goods behind us, was perfectly ready to remain; and wishing our
friends good-bye, we pulled rapidly down the river. As we had a strong
current with us we made good way, and in about six hours reached the
encampment.

"Has the vessel appeared?" I asked of Tommy Peck, who had come down to
meet us, as I sprang on shore.

"Not a sign of one," he answered. "The captain has gone up to the top
of the cliff to have a better look-out; and if none appears, I think he
will be for moving."

My mother and Edith, on hearing from Popo that the boat had arrived,
came out of the house and gave me the same report. They had been busily
engaged for the last two days in preparing for our intended journey, as
had also the men in the camp.

On my father's return he expressed himself satisfied with what we had
done, and accepted Mudge's offer to go back again at once with another
cargo of goods; while he himself proposed to remain with Pierce, Tom,
and one of the other men; and I was to bring back the boat, which in her
last trip was to carry up my father and mother and Edith, and the
remainder of the goods and chattels we intended to remove.

We accordingly lost no time in again starting, as we did not wish to
lose any of the daylight. For nearly two hours we had to pull on in the
dark, and frequently it was so difficult to see our way that we had to
advance cautiously. I sat in the bow, endeavouring to pierce the gloom,
so as to catch sight of any danger ahead before we were upon it. Very
thankful I was when I saw a bright glare cast over the water, and on the
boughs and trunks of the surrounding trees, by Paddy Doyle's camp-fire,
and he