Our only trouble was to prevent the bushrangers from seeing our movements, so that they should not be prepared for our reception. This we were enabled to do by keeping within the shade of the bushes and trees, which grew in profusion upon the banks of the stream.
"Lead the way. Mike, and find out the deep places with your spear," commanded Mr. Wright, but the Irishman held back.
"I couldn't think of taking advantage of my betters, and going before 'em," pleaded Mike.
"Are you afraid?" our host demanded, angrily.
"Divil a bit, master; but it's misgivings I have about the water. What it was made for, 'cept to mix with punch, I don't see."
"Kala go first," muttered the native, and without waiting for orders, he dropped quietly into the stream, followed by Iala.
"The divil! but can't I go where the nager does?" demanded Mike, and he was up to his shoulders in the brook before we could answer him.
The ghost followed Mike, and then the rest of us, leaving our oil-cloth coverings on the bank of the stream, crossed without difficulty, taking good care that our revolvers were kept dry.
"Now, I want all to keep silent, and obey my orders," whispered Mr. Wright; "when I give the word to fire, do so, but not before.