“I had the matches in my pocket when I seed that black devil get ready to kill his man, and a thought struck me that if the bushranger was ‘gentleman Sam,’ I’d better look out how I played pranks with him, ’cos he’s as bold as a lion, and nearly about as strong.  I thought that if I was to frighten him I’d got to put on the extras, and I jist collected a few dried twigs, lashed them on the head with dried kangaroo sinews, tougher than an undertaker’s heart, and when I found that it was about time for the coffin, I jist lighted the wood works with a match, and there I was all shining bright like an angel.”

“If you resemble an angel, I don’t wonder at the few visits they pay the earth,” grumbled Mr. Brown, who, now that the danger was nearly past, was disposed to quiz the man who had been so serviceable to us.

“Well, I ’spose there is some difference ’twixt us,” returned Day, “for if all angels got burned as bad as I have been they would leave out the fire when they went visiting.”

“Well, well,” replied my companion, consolingly, “you have been an angel to us, Day, and if I had only a portion of the good liquor which you carried off last night I would drink your health and bathe your wounds.”

“Would you, though?” demanded Day, with animation.

Mr. Brown reiterated his statement, although in a languid manner, for he did not exactly approve of the midnight depredation which our friend had been guilty of.

“Well, to tell the truth,” continued Day, “I didn’t drink all that I found, ’cos I thought it would be cruel, so I jist changed it into a bladder that I carried water in, and I have got it stowed away here somewhere.”

Never did a confession sound more welcome, and we watched out friend eagerly until he returned from the place where the liquor was hid, and we found about a pint of the raw material saved from his rapacious stomach.

“Here is health and long life to all undertakers’ apprentices,” Mr. Brown said, pressing the bladder to his mouth in the most affectionate manner.

The words were hardly uttered when we heard the shrill calls of the bushrangers, as they rallied after their flight, and were returning to their encampment to recover what articles they had left behind them.  Surprised to think that they should have ventured upon haunted ground the second time, I glanced towards the woods, and found, to my surprise, that daylight had stolen upon us almost unperceived, and that the bushrangers had gained fresh courage from the fact, and were still in a condition to annoy us.

CHAPTER LXXII.

FINDING THE BURIED TREASURE.