ering those dark
shades without further delay. The uncle of Octavius whom, in future,
for the sake of convenience, I shall call Mr. L----, was also of this
mind, and as he was in some sort our leader during the journey, his
advice decided the matter. Danger to him was only a necessary
excitement. He was naturally fearless, and his merry laugh and gay joke
at the expense of the bushranger fearing party gradually dissipated the
unaccountable presentiment of danger which I for one had in no
small degree experienced.

On we went, up hill and down dale, sometimes coming to a more open
piece of ground, but more generally threading our way amid a very maze
of trees, with trunks all black as the ground itself, whilst the dingy
foliage and the few rays of sunshine that lit up those dark, deep
glades served only to heighten the gloominess around.

After walking for about six miles--I preferred that mode of getting
along to the joltings of the dray--we all felt disposed to rest
ourselves. We selected a spot where the trees were less thickly
clustered, and taking the horses out of the dray, tethered them by
strong ropes to some trees near. The dray itself was turned up, and a
blanket thrown over the up-raised shafts formed a most complete and
cosy little tent.

A fire was next kindled, and a kettle full of water (with the tea in
it!) was placed on to boil, some home-made bread, brought from
Carlshrue, was placed upon the ground, and some chops were toasted on
the ends of sticks, which are usually the impromptu toasting-forks of
the bush. The old tin plates and pannicans, not quite so bright as once
upon a time, but showing, despite sundry bruises and scratches, that
they had seen better days, were placed upon the tea-table, which of
course was the ground. Two or three knives and forks were on general
service, and wandered about from hand to hand as occasion required.
Altogether it was a merry, sociable party, and I think I enjoyed that
supper better than any I ever tasted before or since.

"CHACUN A SON GOUT," many a one will say.

The pleasantest moments must come to an end, and so did these. After
having sat up later than usual, Jessie and I retired to our gipsy tent,
leaving our guardian diggers smoking round the fire. They meant to keep
watches during the night to prevent a surprise.

FRIDAY.--We were comfortably seated at our breakfast, discussing a
hundred subjects besides the food before us, when a shrill "coo-ey"
bu