“It is the signal for them to extend, and keep a sharp lookout,” I replied, recollecting the signal perfectly well, having heard it many times.

“Then I have no time to waste, as the funeral undertaker said, when told that the body in the house would come to life if left unburied,” cried the ghost, beginning to strip off his sheepskins with nervous haste.  “I’m to have the liquor and ’bacca, mind.”

I joined Mr. Brown in assuring him that we would freely keep our word; and after Day had drained the last drop of liquor that we had with us, he boldly started on his dangerous undertaking, and we watched his form as he walked over the peninsula, and reached the main land, with more than ordinary interest.

Suddenly he stopped, before reaching the woods, and applying his hands to his mouth, he uttered a word that is well known to stockmen of Australia.

“Co-hee,” he shouted, and it seemed as though the sound could be heard for miles, so sharp and shrill was it.

In an instant the various cries which the bushrangers had uttered were hushed, and the robbers seemed surprised at the sudden call, which they knew did not belong to their party.

Once more the shepherd placed his hands to his mouth, and gave the shrill cry of—­“Co-hee.”

I never heard a yell that sounded so distinct, and which seemed to travel such a distance.  I venture to say, that if a person had been upon the summit of Mount Tarrengower, he could have recognized the call, and had he answered, we should have heard it.

Day, apparently satisfied with what he had done, rested upon his honors, and waited for the finale of his adventures, and he was not long kept in suspense, for the bushrangers, after a brief reconnoitre from behind trees and bushes, suddenly debouched into the open plain, and advanced towards the seemingly unconscious shepherd at a rapid rate, and foremost in the group, I recognized the dark features of Sam Tyrell, the leader.

“Who are you, that answers our calls like a man lost on the plains?” demanded Sam, throwing his gun into the hollow of his arm, as though he meant mischief if provoked.

“That’s a pretty question for you coveys to ask, after eating my mutton as long as you have,” replied Day.  “I’m a shepherd, and belong to this station, and am now looking after my pet ram that got away from the flock some time during the night, and I’m afeard he’s missed.  You coveys ain’t seen him, have you?”

The leader shook his head in a negative manner, and seemed to entertain no suspicion in regard to Day’s doings the night before.

“I want to find the ram, ’cos he’s a valuable one, and cost the owner of the stock considerable money, but I’ll be blamed if I stay round here long, ram or no ram.”

“Suppose we refuse to let you leave us?” asked Sam, rather gruffly.

“I don’t care about, leaving, as long as you stay,” replied Day, with perfect assurance, and here he looked over his shoulder, as though he feared to see something at his elbow that would prove disagreable, “but I don’t visit this spot often, and when I do come, ’tain’t in the night time, you had better believe.”