Rough-and-Ready whistled loud and long, and followed up the whistle with a laugh.
"It's no joke," said the sailmaker.
"One isn't, much less two," replied Rough-and-Ready, with a wink; "but never mind them now."
"I'm content."
"You seem a good-hearted fellow, sailmaker, and as you have two wives, you must think a great deal of womankind."
"I love 'em,"--looking at the two poor creatures lying near them.
"I'm a bushman myself," said Rough-and-Ready, with assumed carelessness; "I'd as soon be where I am as in any part of the world. I am at home here. What do you say, mate? Shall we be friends?"
"Glad to be." And the two men shook hands, Rough-and-Ready hugging himself for his successful diplomacy.
"You're a man after my own heart," said Rough-and-Ready, really appreciating the crisp utterances of the sailmaker, who evidently was not a word-waster. "Seems to me that the first thing we've got to do is to bring the women round; mustn't let them die, eh?"
"Certainly not."