“A splendid performance,” I said, as Mr. Brown and myself stepped from our ambush, and congratulated the shepherd, who, much as he liked to be praised, didn’t think it worth while to listen in so conspicuous a place.

“Follow me as fast as possible,” he exclaimed, removing his still smoking headdress, and exhibiting a face blackened and singed by the flames.  “We ain’t safe here even for a minute, for the devils will come back after their traps, and if they should get hold of us we would be real ghosts in less than an hour.”

I had the same impression, and therefore followed our guide through the woods in a directly opposite course from that which the bushrangers took, and in a few minutes we had the satisfaction of gaining our island and finding our horses as we had left them.

“Now that we are beyond the reach of the robbers, tell me how you prepared your fiery headdress?” Mr. Brown asked, turning to the shepherd, who was rubbing his burnt face and singed hair and whiskers.

“The fact is,” replied Day, “the flames are a new sort of ’speriment, and I’ve hardly got use to ’em.  I think that I should do better next time.  I have every reason to think so, and if I don’t, I shall be forced to give up that portion of the show, although I should think that it was very effective, if I may judge from the remarkable antics of the coveys.  That black-whiskered scoundrel wanted to have a shot at me, and I guess that he would hadn’t it been for the fire.  The flames are a great improvement, ’cos they make me look jist as though I had arrived from kingdom come.”

“But how was the effect produced?” demanded Mr. Brown.

“Well, I don’t know as I had ought to tell you coveys, ’cos you might claim the ’vention as your own,” replied the shepherd, coquettishly; but finding that we were ready to vouch for our disintertestedness, he continued:  “You see when I was overhauling your traps last night—­”

Here Mr. Brown groaned, as he thought of the liquor which had been carried off, and how acceptable it would be at the present time.

“I found a lot of matches, so I took half that you had,” continued Day, “which I consider an honest transaction, ’cos I know coveys who would have carried all off and not thanked ye.  I’ve got some honor, if I am a shepherd.”

“Especially when you drank all my brandy,” Mr. Brown remarked.

Day scorned to notice the insinuation, but continued: 

“I thought how convenient them ’ere matches would be, and I didn’t scruple to take ’em, ’cos I knew that if we were acquainted you would divide, and be glad to accommodate me.”

We didn’t tell Day the maledictions we had showered upon his head, or how we should have treated him had we caught him with our puck.  We thought that as he had been of service to us we would withhold our expressions of dissatisfaction.  Day continued: