old Quong. Look!"

Sure enough there was the yellow-faced, quaint little fellow coming out
of the darkness into the light to bend down and carefully lay some fresh
wood upon the fire, after which he slowly began to walk back.

Mr Gunson must be here, I thought, for Quong would naturally be drawn
to him as a strong man who would protect him.

"Come along," I said; "we are right after all."

"No, no, stop!" he cried, seizing me and holding me back, for Quong
evidently heard our voices, and darted back among the trees.

"Nonsense," I said, struggling.

"Keep back, I tell you. 'Tain't safe. They don't know it's us, and
somebody may shoot."

It was a foolish thing to do, but I wrested myself free and ran forward.

As I did so I heard the ominous _click click_ of a gun-lock, and stopped
short.

"Halt! Who's that? Stand!" cried a deep voice; and the effect was so
great upon me, that I felt like one in a nightmare trying to speak, but
no words came.

Esau was not so impressed, however, for he shouted wildly--

"Hi! Don't shoot. It's only us. Mr Gunson there?"

The boughs were parted, and the familiar figure of the prospector came
out into the light, rifle in hand.

"Why, Gordon!" he cried. "You? Glad to see you; you too, Dean. But
that's risky work, my lad. Don't you know the old proverb--`Let
sleeping dogs lie'? I did not know you were friends, and these are
dangerous times; I might have tried to bite."

He shook hands with us both as he spoke, and Quong came cautiously out
from among the trees.

"Ay, ay, ay!" he cried, beginning to caper about. "You come along? How
de-do-di-do. Quong make hot flesh tea."

"No, no; they don't want tea at this time of night."

"Yes, please give me some," I said, for I was hot and faint with
exertion. "I shall be glad of a mug."

"Hot flesh tea," cried Quong, beginning to rake the fire together.
"Makee cakee dleckly."

"Why, Gordon, what brings you here?" cried Mr Gunson. "You belong to
the opposite camp. Raydon hasn't let you come gold-washing?"

"No," I said, hurriedly. "Have you seen those men?"

"What men? There are plenty about here."

"I mean those men you quarrelled with on the steamer about Quong."

"Eh? 'Bout Quong?" cried the little Chinaman, looking up sharply. "Bad
man on puff-boat pullee tail neally off. No."

"Yes; they have been at the Fort to-day--yesterday--which is it--and
they are down below yonder now."

"What, those f