"We engaged two assistants, named respectively Jake Barnes and Pete Tonsley. Onwards we trudged, slowly but surely, over our, at times, uncertain track in the wilderness. Jake and Pete, who were two overgrown lads, were continually breaking away into the bush after birds of beautiful plumage, which were continually flitting across our path, and armed with short pieces of stick they killed many that were valuable for the sake of their skins. Pete was the wildest of the two, and we had on several occasions to halt for hours awaiting his return ere the night set in. On one occasion Pete had been away most of the afternoon, promising before he started to take his bearings properly, and keep the smoke from the chimney of the caravan in sight; Jake, whom he left behind, promising to feed the fire well with green leaves, in order to make the smoke more dense. "It was fast growing dark, the smoke was no longer visible, and we had reached a thick piece of wood where, Pete being still absent, we determined to come to a halt. Rifles were fired, and we had all shouted until we were quite hoarse. Poor Pete was evidently lost in the bush, or had fell a prey to panthers, or perhaps Indians. We determined to find him dead or alive, if possible. Feeling our way through the bush, each with a lantern and candle, Jake and I started in search of our missing mate, leaving the Emeralder in charge of the waggon-train. We had not proceeded far when a series of screams and smothered sounds, as if produced by some one in great distress, reached us from a point not far from our left. "`What'n all creation's that?' said Jake, coming to a sudden halt. "`Indians,' said I, looking ahead as far as I could. "`Ingins! No, sir, it's Pete; and that's somethin' a-hurting him. Let's run out that way,' said Jake. "`H-o-o-o-o! bah-h-h! he-e-e-oy! murder-r-r! hoo-o-o-oy!' came the sounds, so thick and fast that it was scarcely possible to distinguish any space between them. "We dashed off towards the point from whence the sounds issued. "`Bla-a-a-blah! bla-a-a-bloo! ho-o-o-oyh!' went the sufferer, if such it really was, and `ipitty-tip' through the thick shrubs went Jake and I, now nearly out of breath. Nearer and nearer came the sounds, until presently the light of a fire broke in upon our visions. "`What kin all this mean, guvner?' said Jake. "`It's an Indian decoy. We're in for a fight,' said I, loosening my bowie-knife. "`No. Don't think it's Ingins; tha wouldn't a' kindled a fire that-a-way. No; can't be Ingins! 'Sides, tha is friendly now,' said Jake, as he dodged behind in my footsteps, striving to appear brave.