This was a welcome suggestion, for, as all travellers know, if you don't sit by a camp fire in the evening, you have to sit by nothing in the dark, which is a most unsociable way of spending your time. They found a comfortable nook under the hedge, where there were plenty of dry leaves to rest on, and there they built a fire, and put the billy on, and made tea. The tea and sugar and three tin cups and half a pound of mixed biscuits were brought out of the bag by Sam, while Bill cut slices of steak-and-kidney from the Puddin'. After that they had boiled jam roll and apple dumpling, as the fancy took them, for if you wanted a change of food from the Puddin', all you had to do was to whistle twice and turn the basin round. After they had eaten as much as they wanted, the things were put away in the bag, and they settled down comfortably for the evening. "This is what I call grand," said Bill, cutting up his tobacco. "Full-and-plenty to eat, pipes goin' and the evenin's enjoyment before us. Tune up on the mouth-organ, Sam, an' off she goes with a song." They had a mouth-organ in the bag which they took turns at playing, and Bill led off with a song which he said was called SPANISH GOLD "When I was young I used to hold I'd run away to sea, And be a Pirate brave and bold On the coast of Caribbee. "For I sez to meself, `I'll fill me hold With Spanish silver and Spanish gold, And out of every ship I sink I'll collar the best of food and drink. "`For Caribbee, or Barbaree, Or the shores of South Amerikee Are all the same to a Pirate bold, Whose thoughts are fixed on Spanish gold.' "So one fine day I runs away A Pirate for to be; But I found there was never a Pirate left On the coast of Caribbee. "For Pirates go, but their next of kin Are Merchant Captains, hard as sin, And Merchant Mates as hard as nails Aboard of every ship that sails. "And I worked aloft and I worked below, I worked wherever I had to go, And the winds blew hard and the winds blew cold, And I sez to meself as the ship she rolled, "`O Caribbee! O Barbaree! O shores of South Amerikee! O, never go there: if the truth be told, You'll get more kicks than Spanish gold.'" "And that's the truth, mate," said Bill to Bunyip Bluegum. "There ain't no pirates nowadays at sea, except western ocean First Mates, and many's the bootin' I've had for not takin' in the slack of the topsail halyards fast enough to suit their fancy. It's a hard life, the sea, and Sam here'll bear me out when I say that bein' hit on the head with a belayin' pin while tryin' to pick up the weather earring is an experience that no man wants twice. But toon up, and a song all round." "I shall sing you the `The Penguin Bold,'" said Sam, and, striking a graceful attitude, he sang this song--