Even the mad thirst for gold could not induce the bravest persons to undertake the journey alone. The gold-seekers travelled in large cavalcades, well armed, and determined to fight for their lives and property; one of these parties my brother joined. He was a fine handsome young fellow, all fun and love of adventure, and he soon became a general favourite. The ‘track’—for there were no roads at that time—ran for the greater distance through the bush, some parts of which were so dense as scarcely to admit daylight. Every man was well armed. My brother had brought with him a first-class revolver, purchased in London. This he kept with other valuables carefully hidden on his person, his other belongings being stowed away in one of the wagons. When they bivouacked for the night, care was taken that it should be in an open space, where a good look-out could be kept, to make sure against a sudden surprise. The wagons were placed in the middle, sentries posted, and scouts placed so that the flight of a bird or the fall of a leaf could not pass unnoticed. All were on the _qui vive_. For some days all went well, nothing unusual or alarming occurring. They were then well into the bush, and consequently, if possible more vigilant, believing that even a mouse could not intrude itself amongst them. One morning it was found that, during the night, they had been, spite of all their vigilance, mysteriously and unaccountably joined by a stranger, who stood in their midst as if one of themselves. No one could imagine how or whence he came, and utter astonishment prevailed. He was a fine portly man, from thirty-five to forty years of age, with an open, prepossessing countenance and good address—one who, under other circumstances, would have been looked upon as an acquisition to the party. Not in the least taken aback or abashed by the scant welcome he received or the undisguised surprise his presence created, he came forward boldly, and told a most plausible story, to the effect that he was a stranger making his way to the gold-fields, that, notwithstanding the stories he had heard in Sydney of ‘Jack’ and his comrades, he had ventured so far alone; but as he got farther into the bush he lost heart, and determined to join the first party he met. It looked strange that he had no luggage of any kind, not even provisions, or anything to indicate that he was bound for a long journey. He made no attempt to account for his mysterious appearance, entered into the arrangements of the cavalcade, and made himself quite at home. Every man amongst them, with the exception of my brother, believed that no one but ‘Jack’ himself could have so taken them by surprise, the general belief being, that it could only be from personal experience the terrible bushranger derived the perfect knowledge he displayed when making his raids.