wid ye, at once, and the divil take care of ye. We know ye."

"If you know us, you should not fear us," my friend said, in the
insinuating argumentative style so peculiar to him.

"O! better not stand then; blarneying, but go away wid ye!" yelled out
one of the women, with demonstrative indications of throwing hot water
or potatoes at us.

"Why, who do you think we are?" I asked, Mr. Brown having retired from
the conversational portion of his duty in deep disgust at the idea of
having his gentlemanly address taken for blarney.

"We think ye are thaves! may the divil confound ye," replied one of the
heathen.

"But we are not thieves," I continued.

"Thin yer looks belies ye wonderfully. Go on yer ways, and don't stop
here thinking that we've money, or any stuff to stale, for we ain't."

"Why, you d----n fools!" yelled Mr. Brown, "we have more money in our
pockets than the carcasses of yourselves, wives, and horses would
bring."

This announcement produced a sensation, and we were happy to see the
fellows whisper together, as though they had made a mistake, and were
willing to rectify it.

"Have ye whiskey?" at length one of them asked.

I shook a bottle in their faces, but made no reply.

"Is it the rale poteen?" he demanded.

"Irish all over," I answered.

"Thin glory to God, come along and welcome."

The muskets were lowered, the hostile attitude ceased, and we rode into
the camp like conquerors, and were received with every mark of respect,
which I attributed more to the influence of the black bottle that I held
in my hand, than to our dignified personal appearance. Even the women
condescended to welcome us with looks of encouragement, and one of them
spanked her baby when it cried, because the wee thing was frightened at
strangers.

CHAPTER LXXX.

JOURNEY BACK TO BALLARAT.

"You are, no doubt, strangers in the country?" said Mr. Brown, after we
had removed the saddles from our horses' backs, and suffered the animals
to roam a short distance from the camp for food.

"Faith, ye may well say that," cried the leading Hibernian, with a
good-natured smile.

"Where did you come from?" my friend continued.

"Ireland, sir," was the prompt reply.

"I know that without your telling me. I mean what part of this country.
Sydney or Melbourne?"

"Faith, how did ye know we come from Ireland?" queried Pat, with
innocent simplicity.

"By your brogue, to be sure," was Mr. Brown's prompt answer.