We soon saw a party of natives of this description seated around a fire, black with dirt, and gorged with the flesh of a kangaroo. The stockman, Smith, was busy with his team, and had declined our assistance, as he saw that we were tired and nearly exhausted with travel. Telling us to go to the fire and see how we liked the looks of the natives, we followed his advice, and walked towards them. There were ten or twelve of them huddled together in a circle, squatted upon their haunches, each with a piece of raw flesh lying upon the ground, while other junks were broiling on the coals, to be transferred from thence to the fingers of those claiming them.
They manifested no surprise or curiosity when Fred and myself halted within a few feet of them, and regarded their feeding operations with considerable disgust. Their minds appeared to be too much occupied to pay the least attention to outward objects, and as they poked their burning food among the ashes, and licked their fingers, and grunted with satisfaction, they certainly did not seem better than so many swine. At least they were not half so clean.
"Well, of all the eating I ever saw, this is the worst," cried Fred, after a few moments' contemplation.
"Even the Indians of California would be ashamed to look so dirty," I remarked.
"Hullo," cried Smith, advancing with the sauce pan filled with water, which he had obtained somewhere in the vicinity, although we could not in the dark see any evidence of a stream. "Hullo," he cried; "what is the matter? Why don't you sit down and join the gentlemen? Well, old Bulger, how are you getting along?" addressing a native that looked older than the others, and consequently more dirty.
The brute grunted, and paid no farther attention to the address; but Smith was not to be bluffed that way.
"Let me have a chance at your fire," he said, holding the sauce pan towards him; but the native gave no attention except to his burning meat, which he turned over in the ashes with a stick, and apparently had a great desire to eat raw.
"I know of a way to start him," muttered Smith. "Stand by and watch the fun," he continued, addressing Fred and myself.
He canted the sauce pan a little one side, and allowed the water to run over the rim, and strike upon the native's naked shoulder. The fellow uttered a howl as though seared with a hot iron, and scrabbling away from the fire, left the convict free access.
"There is nothing like water to start them," cried Smith, laughing, as he put his dish upon the coals, while those who still kept their places watched his motions with their little glittering eyes, as though fearful they should also be subjected to a bath.
The native whom the convict called "Bulger" lingered around the fire for a short time, as though he had not entirely relinquished all hope of again joining the circle; but when he found that Smith showed no indication of yielding his place, he grunted his displeasure, got one of his companions to rake from the ashes his lump of flesh, and placing the burning mass upon leaves, walked towards some rude huts which were built of branches of trees and leaves of the giro.
"Good night, Bulgy," shouted Smith, as this latter toddled off; but the native paid no attention, and soon disappeared within the pile of leaves.
"You have met these poor devils before—haven't you?" I inquired of the convict.
"For the last three months they have been camped on this spot, and as water is convenient here, I generally manage to reach them in the course of the night. Besides, I make them useful in case my cattle stray away; and for a piece of tobacco not larger than my thumb they are willing to run all day."
"Bah," grunted half a dozen voices in chorus, apparently roused to animation by some word that Smith had spoken.
They extended their small hands, not larger than the paws of an orang-outang, and greatly resembling them in formation and looks.
"What do they want?" Fred asked.
"They heard me mention tobacco, and now they are begging for some. They love the needful as well as I do;" and Smith proceeded to fill his pipe, and then coolly replaced the tobacco in his pocket, much to the disappointment of the natives, who had followed his motions with anxious eyes.
"Give them a piece," I said, quick to trace disappointment in their expressionless faces.
"Not I," returned Smith. "If I want them to-morrow to run after my cattle, I shall have to give them more, for they would not recollect that I had supplied them to-night without compensation."
"Then I'll stand treat," cried Fred, handing a small piece of the needful to the nearest native, who grunted, but whether as an expression of thanks, or disappointment that it was not larger, is unknown.
The glittering eyes of the gorged natives were instantly fastened upon the fortunate possessor of the tobacco, greatly to the injury of their broiling meat. But the native upon whom the present was bestowed showed no signs of making a dividend. He carefully concealed the tobacco in a small pouch at his girdle, and after sitting a few minutes in silence, staggered to his feet, and waddled off.
"'It is get all you can and keep what you get,' with them," said Smith, as he watched the native enter his hut.
The water in the sauce pan at this moment gave indications of boiling, and as we all felt hungry, we determined to have supper before stretching our forms under the shelter of the cart. Our stock of coffee was produced, the pork and bread unpacked, and while the convict busied himself frying slices of the former, we soaked cakes of the latter in a pan of water, and sliced a few potatoes to add a relish to our meal.
At length our supper was cooked; when seated within the light of the blazing fire, we prepared to enjoy ourselves and perhaps emulate the natives in their feasts.
"How do you like your coffee?" asked Smith, as I raised my tin pot to my mouth.
Before I could reply, my attention was directed to a blaze that suddenly enveloped one of the huts, and which threatened to extend to the others. As the materials of which it was built were light and dry, but few minutes' time would be necessary to consume it; so I started up, intending to assist in extinguishing the flames.
"Let it burn," exclaimed Smith, leisurely sipping his coffee, and watching the progress of the fire; and even the natives kept their places, and appeared unmoved at the sight.
"There may be somebody in the hut," cried Fred, rising.
"Then let them get out the best way they can," answered Smith. "If these dirty scamps can't assist a comrade, I don't see why we should bother our heads."
We waited to hear no more, but rushed towards the flames; and our steps were quickened by hearing what we thought was the cry of a child.
We seized the dry branches, of which the hut was built, and tore them from their fastenings, scattering the leaves that formed the roof, and, regardless of the heat, continued to work; the flames were too powerful for us, and we were obliged to beat a retreat.
We were about to return to our supper, when we heard a shrill cry issue from the hut—not aloud, prolonged sound, such as a man would utter when in agony, but a sharp, short yell, like the wail of an infant.
"Smith," I shouted, turning to the convict, who was still eating his supper, "there is a child burning to death."
"The deuce!" he cried, springing to his feet, and rushing quickly in the direction of the fire. "Let us save the young 'un at any rate."
Upon the ground in front of the hut were half a dozen long, sharp-pointed spears, belonging to the natives, and almost their only weapons for defence or attack. We seized those, and charging on the fire as though it was an enemy,