When I woke up it was evening, and the first thing my eye rested upon was Pierre squatting in front of the fire, on which was a big pot and a bucket, while alongside of him squatted his fellow-gnome, sharpening a knife, the very sight of which was enough to make a man shudder. Now I was not surprised to see either Pierre or George, but where the deuce did the pot and bucket come from? The advent of these utensils puzzled me, so I strolled up to Pierre and wished him good-evening, at the same time remarking: “You are indeed fortunate to have found such a beautiful pot.” “But, Monsieur,” he replied, “I have not found this pot. It is the same pot and bucket out of which Monsieur has already once dined.” “But, Pierre,” I said, “I know you and George to be the most intrepid scouts, how therefore can you manage to carry your pot and bucket through the bush?” “Monsieur,” he replied with dignity, “a Cordon bleu should never part with his _batterie de cuisine_. True my hands are occupied while in the bush scouting, so I wear this magnificent pot as a helmet; my friend George likewise wears the bucket, so that, having no use for hats or caps, we have always the wherewithal to cook the dinner, and it affords much pleasure to cook dinners for gentlemen of taste such as Monsieur and Monsieur Hutton. As for the other savages, ah, bah!” This I found on inquiry to be the truth. These men, hardened by incessant exposure, during the summer months carried no blankets, packs nor rations, neither did they wear boots nor hats, but lived on what they could find, and when they halted just threw themselves on the ground and slept like animals. This unnatural training had rendered them capable of covering immense distances, and going for marvellous long intervals without food, sleep or rest. Yet they were born marauders, could and did steal everything and anything that came in their way, and as it was Pierre’s chief idiosyncrasy to cook dinners our mess lived well when other messes were mumbling tough, bad rations. That night there was no need to use our homely rations, for Pierre’s helmet contained a wonderful stew, and I noticed everyone abstained from asking any questions as to how or where he had obtained the ingredients. Pierre and his pard were scouts and they had chances which they never neglected to profit by.