We were about to return to our supper, when we heard a shrill cry issue from the hut—­not aloud, prolonged sound, such as a man would utter when in agony, but a sharp, short yell, like the wail of an infant.

“Smith,” I shouted, turning to the convict, who was still eating his supper, “there is a child burning to death.”

“The deuce!” he cried, springing to his feet, and rushing quickly in the direction of the fire.  “Let us save the young ’un at any rate.”

Upon the ground in front of the hut were half a dozen long, sharp-pointed spears, belonging to the natives, and almost their only weapons for defence or attack.  We seized those, and charging on the fire as though it was an enemy, we poked away branch after branch, until we had made an entrance sufficiently large to admit one of us, when Smith, reckless of the heat, rushed forward and entered the hut.

We waited anxiously for his reappearance, and when he did emerge from the smoke and flames, instead of carrying a child in his arms, he was dragging the inanimate form of the native whom Fred had made happy with a present of tobacco a short time before.

The native was apparently insensible; but as Smith dragged him along the ground, and let his body drop when beyond reach of the fire, he uttered a groan, as though half disposed to remonstrate against being saved.

“Well, of all the lazy scamps that I ever saw, he is the worst,” cried Smith, wiping his brow with his hand, and looking towards us for a confirmation of his words.

“At least you have the gratification of knowing that you have saved his life,” cried Fred, almost inclined to laugh at the rueful look of the convict.

“His life?” repeated Smith; “why, if I had let him roast he would have been much more gratified than he will be when he awakes.  He is going through with a fit of digestion now, and is as torpid as a toad in winter.  Ah, you brute, eat until you can’t move another time, will you?”

The convict hit the native a kick with his foot, and then went to finish his supper, grumbling as he did so at being disturbed.

The natives, who had retained their positions around the fire in spite of the burning hut, and danger of their comrade, uttered a low grunt when they saw Smith drag the brute from the flames; but whether that expression was intended for satisfaction or regret, I was too little acquainted with the customs of the tribe to tell.  They took no further notice of either their torpid companion or our party, until suddenly an idea appeared to enter the head of one, smarter looking than his fellows.  He got with difficulty upon his feet, leaving his burning meat upon the coals, and waddling towards the insensible native, knelt beside him.

“Look!” cried Fred, suspending the operation of eating supper to call attention to the fact.  “Look, and never say that the natives are destitute of feeling again.”