d upon his hind legs and sought
to get at his enemy, and when finding that he could not, he appealed to
us for assistance; and for fear that he should get injured I called him
away,--an order which he obeyed most reluctantly.

"Come down from the tree," shouted Fred, "and we will give you quarter
and kind treatment."

There was no answer; we listened, but not a movement was to be heard. An
old parrot, that was perched high upon a blasted tree, attempted to
imitate our cry, but he got no further than the first word, and that
appeared to puzzle him so much that he gave up in despair and remained
mute with disgust.

"Do you surrender?" he yelled.

Not a word was heard in reply.

"He is like the flying Dutchman," cried Smith, a slight superstitious
feeling beginning to creep over him.

"Give him a shot, then, and see if he cannot be brought down," Fred
said.

I saw that Smith had no particular relish for the duty, but for fear
that we should laugh at him he raised his gun and discharged one barrel.

The leaves flew as though the tree had been struck by a whirlwind. A
small branch was cut off by the bullet and fell to the ground; but no
sign of an enemy was manifest.

"It's no use," cried Smith, with a lengthened visage. "We might waste
all our ammunition and the result would still be the same. It's no human
being in that tree."

"We'll see," replied Fred, briefly, and he aimed his rifle near the top
of the tree, and fired.

Not near as many leaves fell as at Smith's discharge, but the effect was
more astonishing. The tree swayed back and forth as though some one was
moving in its centre, and from amidst the dense foliage a voice
exclaimed,--

"Blast yer hies, vot is yer doing?"

"Here, Smith," cried Fred, "there is a cockney countryman of yours up
there."

"Come down," we roared.

"See ye hanged first, and then I von't," repeated the voice in the tree.

"Then we shall have to send another bullet into the tree to start you."

"If ye don't cut hout of these diggins, yer'll wish that ye had,"
replied our defiant acquaintance.

"Once for all, will you surrender?" was demanded.

"See ye blasted fust," was returned, in a dogmatical manner.

Fred let fly another bullet into the tree, and this time with remarkable
success; for suddenly a singular-looking genius, with wonderful long
legs, and those dressed in untanned skins of the kangaroo, hair side
out, tumbled from the tree, feet foremost, and with boun