ess, a suggestion of something sinister about him. To me he
unbent considerably when we were alone.

Once in a burst of confidence Mulcahy told me that he had left
California to escape the attentions of a certain widow, the
proprietress of a saloon, who had fallen in love with him. He related
how she had pursued him to a remote camp, burst into his tent one
morning and, before he could resist, thrown her arms around his neck,
and given him a kiss "you might have wathered a mule at."

Mulcahy and I first met at the Rotunda Creek Rush, and when that abode
of "wild cat" collapsed, we arranged to take a prospecting trip towards
the Olifant River. We made a start, but after a week were driven back
by some of the worst weather I have ever experienced. The climax came
when we were caught one afternoon on a high mountain plateau by a
succession of violent hailstorms. We crept under the lee of a rock for
shelter, but our fire was smashed out over and over again by hurtling
masses of ice, so we shivered in darkness through what seemed to be an
interminable night.

As the weather remained unsettled, we decided to return to camp and
there refit. Besides, we badly needed recuperation after the more than
ordinary hardships we had undergone. We arrived at the Lower Camp one
morning at about nine o'clock, more than half-starved. I shall never
forget my wolfish sensations as we flung down our swags at Stopforth
and Bowman's eating-house and called for breakfast. I then enjoyed the
heartiest meal of my life, after which I sat back pulling at my pipe
and noting with astonishment the amount of food which Mulcahy consumed.

I thought he would never stop; plateful followed plateful in an
apparently endless endeavor to sate the insatiable. However, all things
must come to an end; so, eventually, did Mulcahy's Gargantuan meal. As
he paid the prescribed fee of two shillings, I thought Stopforth looked
pensive.

After resting for some ten days, and the weather having in the meantime
cleared, we made another start. We had decided to commence our journey
after a good meal, so struck our tent early one morning at the Upper
Creek, and tramped down to the Lower Camp, once more to bestow the
doubtful favor of our custom upon Stopforth and Bowman.

We put down our swags at the door and entered. It was barely eight
o'clock, so no other customers had arrived. The eating-house was a
large marquee tent, with rough tables and benches on either side of