The air was still perfumed with the smoke of broiled kangaroo meat, attracting large numbers of a fox-like species of animals, that rarely ventured from the surrounding darkness, into the light of our camp-fire, but skulked in the vicinity, and waited for the time when sleep would overpower us, and allow them free pillage of our larder.  Occasionally an impatient one would utter a short bark, as though expressive of his disgust at our watchfulness, and after he had thus given vent to his feelings, slink away into darkness again; but their fiery, eager eyes, could be distinguished as they prowled around and jostled each other while taking counsel.

It was near ten o’clock.  We had lapsed into silence, and each one was busy with his own thoughts, perhaps laying plans for the future.  From the time that our pipes were lighted not a word had been exchanged, and I was just about knocking the ashes from mine, and proposing a retirement to our blankets beneath the nearest tree, when the prolonged howling of a dog attracted my attention.

I looked towards Smith for an explanation, but found that he was as much puzzled as myself, and was holding his pipe in one hand, while his head was bent in the direction of the sound, as though waiting for a repetition before he ventured to express an opinion.

Again did the mournful sound ring across the prairie, and this time it seemed nearer than when first heard.  I thought I knew the bay, and could have sworn that the animal was a staghound, and a full-blooded brute at that.  I had seen none of the breed since I had arrived in Australia, and I thought it singular to find one at such a distance from Melbourne.

“What is that hound baying for at this time of night?” I asked of the convict, who still remained speechless.

“Are you sure that it is a hound?” Smith inquired.

“Quite positive.  There he goes again.  The brute has treed some animal, and is informing his master of its whereabouts,” I replied, listening to see in what direction the sound proceeded from.

“You are wrong there,” cried Fred.  “The dog is evidently coming this way, and perhaps has started a kangaroo.  If it comes within sight I’ll try it, even if I miss as I did this afternoon.”

Fred laid his hand upon his rifle which was lying by his side, and tried to peer into the darkness, but a moment’s experiment convinced him of the folly of his thought, and he laid the gun down again.

“I’ve never heard a sound like that since I left old England,” the convict said, as the baying continued, and grew nearer at each repetition.

We all three felt an anxiety that we tried to conceal from each other.  The loneliness of our location, and the uncertainty of meeting with friends in that part of the country, the frequent robberies that had of late been committed, and the daring of the bushrangers, were all ample cause for vigilance on our part; and perhaps we suspected that the dog was used by some gang to discover the presence of travellers, and expedite the work of pillage.