“I remember you,” my friend said, “and knew you the instant you spoke, but I preferred to let you recall reminiscences of by-gone days, to see if there is any gratitude in the world.”

“Gratitude?” echoed Mr. Wright; “darn it, man, when you are tired of stopping with me I’ll give you a hundred head of cattle.”

“Don’t do it, for mercy’s sake.  I prefer that you should give us something to eat now.  Show your liberality that way, for we are famishing.”

“Eat, man! you shall have the best that I can get.  Here, Mike, Pat, Peter, where am you all?  Take charge of the gentlemen’s horses, and give them a feed of grain and a thorough rubbing down.  Put supper on the table instantly, and brew us a bowl of punch that will make us sing like nightingales, and sleep like honest men.  This way, gentlemen, there is my house—­rough and uncouth, but better than the shelter of a tree during a rainy night.  You are welcome to my hospitality.”

CHAPTER LXXV.

SUPPER.—­RETURN OF MR. WRIGHT’S SCOUTS.

The room into which Mr. Wright conducted us was on the ground floor, and was about thirty feet deep and fifteen feet wide.  Around the walls were hung skins of kangaroos, stuffed parrots, and other birds of gaudy plumage, while confined in brackets were old muskets in sufficient quantities to frighten all the natives of Australia, but their appearance, imposing as they were, would not have sufficiently impressed a bushranger of nerve into the belief that they were dangerous, even if loaded with their proper quantum of powder and lead.

We had hardly crossed the threshold of the building when a shrill voice greeted us with,—­

“D——­n bushrangers—­d——­n bushrangers—­caught at last!—­ha, ha!—­I knew it!—­I said so!—­steal sheep, will you?”

We started back at such a reception, and Mr. Brown began to mutter something about “gratuitous insults,” when Mr. Wright pointed to a remarkably large parrot that was roosting on the back of a chair, surveying us with quiet dignity, and evidently with considerable worldly wisdom.

Our anger vanished, and we made immediate overtures to Poll, for the purpose of establishing a firm friendship, but our advances were met with dignified coolness, while Day, who attempted to scratch the bird’s head, got severely bitten for his pains.

“D——­n the beast!” muttered the shepherd, rubbing his finger.

“That’s right—­swear!  D——­n it, why don’t you swear?  Sheep stealers!  Who robs people?  Ha, ha!  Set the dogs on ’em!”

“A precocious parrot,” said Mr. Wright, “and he is indebted for his profanity to my men, who learn him much that is bad, and little that is good, and to tell the truth, he learns the former much more readily than the latter.”

“In which he closely resembles our policemen,” muttered the ex-inspector.

“These gentlemen are my friends,” said Mr. Wright, addressing the parrot, and formally presenting us for its distinguished consideration.