Not wishing to test the truth of his assertion, I rode along the bank of the brook nearly a mile, until I found a place where the water was more than six inches deep, with a solid bed of gravel.  At this spot I crossed without trouble, and then we continued our journey across the country, Mount Tarrengower looming up before us like a giant amid pigmies.

“Devilish narrow escape for me and the horse,” Mr. Brown said, while walking our animals over some rough ground; “I thought at one time that we both would have to go under, and I began to think of a prayer or two.  I knew something would happen to us after talking about poor Buckerly in the manner that we did.”

“Do you really think so?” I asked, hardly knowing whether he was quizzing me or was serious.

“Upon my word I am not jesting.  I have too much superstition in my composition to think of spirits in any light, excepting that of the utmost respect; for why should not the dead revenge themselves upon the living if so disposed?”

“If that is your belief, how do you reconcile the fact of your having killed so many bushrangers, and yet escape their persecutions?” I inquired.

“Simply because the bad have not the power to injure the good.”

I laughed so heartily at the explanation, that even my friend suffered his grim visage to relax a little.

“You may smile,” he said, “but it’s just as I tell you.”

I saw that he was in earnest, so let the matter drop—­but the conversation was afterwards renewed and discussed in all its lights and bearings, but still without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion.

It was near twelve o’clock when we reached the river, which was about three feet deep and forty wide.  After hunting for some time we discovered the ford, and crossed without difficulty.  We found ourselves in an immense grazing district, where ten thousand sheep could have been pastured without trouble or fear of their suffering for food.

The difficulty which we then experienced was to find the right path that was to lead us to the salt lick, but even that was overcome at length, and we galloped along the trail which we supposed that Bill meant, with bright anticipations of a successful termination of our mission.

Suddenly Mr. Brown reined up, and called to me to stop a moment.

“If I am not mistaken,” he said, pointing with his whip towards a cluster of gum tress and bushes that stood upon a small mound near our right, “I saw a human being dodge behind one of those trees, after watching us for a few minutes.”

“Let us make an examination,” I replied.  “We want no spies upon our actions in this matter, and if we are to be followed, we had better find out what is wanted.”  I turned my horse’s head as I spoke, and was riding in the direction indicated, when my friend stopped me.

“Don’t be rash in this matter, for we don’t know how many men are concealed in that clump of bushes, watching our movements.  Let us ride on and stop when concealed by those trees in the distance.  From that place we can watch movements in this quarter securely.”