ently his
approval, and was less grim than usual. Yet, peaceful as we were, it
might have puzzled a stranger to see that all of us were armed--armed
in this tenantless, lonely wilderness! Lonely and tenantless enough
it seemed. There was the range of the Copper-mine hills to the south,
lighted by the wan moon; and between and to the west a rough scrub
country, desolating beyond words, and where even edible snakes would
be scarce; spots of dead-finish, gidya, and brigalow-bush to north and
east, and in the trees by the billabong the cry of the cockatoo and the
laughing-jackass. It was lonely, but surely it was safe. Yes, perhaps it
was safe!

It was late when we turned in, our heads upon our saddles, for the Cadi
had been more than amusing--he had been confidential, and some political
characters were roughly overhauled for our benefit, while so-called
Society did not escape flagellation. Next morning the Cadi left us. He
gave us his camps--Bora Bora, Budgery-Gar, Wintelliga, and Gilgan--since
we were to go in his direction also soon. He turned round in his saddle
as he rode off, and said gaily: "Gentlemen, I hope you'll always help to
uphold the majesty of the law as nobly as you have sustained its envoy
from your swags."

Drysdale and I waved our hands to him, but Barlas muttered something
between his teeth. We had two days of cattle-hunting in the Copper-mine
hills, and then we started westward, in the tracks of the Cadi, to make
for Barlas's station. The second day we camped at Bora Bora Creek. We
had just hobbled the horses, and were about to build a fire, when Bimbi
came running to us. "Master, master," he said to Drysdale, "that fellow
Cadi yarraman mumkull over there. Plenty myall mandowie!"--('Master,
master, the Cadi's horse is dead over there, and there are plenty of
black fellows' tracks about.')

We found the horse pierced with spears. The Cadi had evidently mounted
and tried to get away. And soon, by a clump of the stay-a-while bush,
we discovered, alas! the late companion of our camp-fire. He was gashed
from head to foot, and naked.

We buried him beneath a rustling sandal-tree, and on its bark carved the
words:

"Sacred to the memory of Stewart Ruttan."

And beneath, Barlas added the following:

"The Cadi sleeps. The Law regards him not."

In a pocket of the Cadi's coat, which lay near, we found the picture of
a pretty girl. On it was written:

"To dearest Stewart, from Alice."

Barlas's face