Mike recovered his spear, and we once more started, under the guidance of the natives, and quickly gained the spot that we had spent so much time in searching for.

The ford had been used but seldom, and resembled the rest of the creek, with the exception that the bushes and underbrush had been cut from the banks of the stream, so that horses, and other cattle, after fording, could gain the plain without trouble.

Kala threw himself upon his hands and knees, and carefully examined, by the lightning flashes, the various footprints which marked the spot, and which the heavy rain had failed to wash away.

“Well, Kala,” Mr. Wright said, impatiently.

“No come yet,” answered the native, quietly.

“Are you sure of that?” our host asked.

“I might have known that, if I had only given the subject a thought, muttered our host.

“Well, what are we to do?” asked Mr. Brown, gathering his oil-cloth around his person, and evidently thinking of the punch, and a good night’s rest; “are we to stay here until daylight, and watch for a party of men who may be upon the summit of Mount Tarrengower at the present time?  I wouldn’t object to waiting, but I don’t like the idea of sitting here and doing nothing, while the rain is endeavoring to obtain a nearer acquaintance with my neck and bosom.”

“I don’t see any other course,” Mr. Wright replied; “it’s evident that the devils have not crossed the creek, and can’t to-night, but the streams of Australia subside rapidly, and the instant the rain ceases to fall they will attempt to ford.  We must stay here and watch for the scamps.  Remember the female prisoners.”

“It’s all very well to say remember the females, but if I ruin my health who is to remember me, and take care of me?” grumbled Mr. Brown.

“I will,” promptly responded our host.

“Then I suppose that I must stay here all night, and make a fool of myself by running my head into danger, as I have done fifty times before, and get no thanks for it—­hullo! what was that?”

Before Mr. Brown spoke, Kala had glided to the side of Mr. Wright, and called his attention, in a quiet manner, to a crashing of brunches that he had heard on the other side of the river.  Our host was too busy listening to the ravings of Mr. Brown to pay attention to him at that moment, and the native knew the disposition of his master too well to be imperative, so Kala didn’t have the honor of alarming our squad, or calling attention to what was going on on the other side.

In an instant after Mr. Brown’s exclamation, there was a breathless silence, and not a man moved to the right or left.

“They come,” whispered Kala.

He was correct in his supposition, for in a few minutes we could hear the party we were in pursuit of halt at the edge of the brook, opposite to us, and discuss the prospect of attempting to ford, high as the water was.