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Dunderdale, George, 1822-1903

"The Book of the Bush Containing Many Truthful Sketches Of The Early Colonial Life Of Squatters, Whalers, Convicts, Diggers, And Others Who Left Their Native Land And Never Returned"


A start was made next morning, the cockney as usual, taking the lead.
One man followed him, but kept losing ground purposely, merely
keeping the leader in sight; the others did the same. Before the
last man had lost sight of the camp, he could see Spiller in the
distance walking towards it. He then uttered a long coo-ee, which
was answered by every man of the party. They thought some valuable
discovery had been made. One by one they followed the call and were
soon assembled at the still burning embers they had lately left.
"A nice navigator you are, ain't you, Spiller? Do you know where you
are now?" asked Brown.
"Well, I must say there seems to be some mistake," said Spiller. "I
came along when I heard the coo-ee, and found myself here. It is
most unaccountable. Here is where we camped last night, sure enough.
It is most surprising."
"Yes, it is surprising," said Smith. "You know the compass, don't
you, you conceited little beggar. You can box it and make a bee-line
for Western Port, can't you? Here you have been circussing us round
the country, nobody knows where, until we have not a morsel of food
left; but if I am to be starved to death through you, you miserable
little hound, I am not going to leave you alive. What do you say,
mates? Let us kill him and eat him. I'll do the job myself if
nobody else likes it.


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