possessed a strong sense of humour, which he did not fail at times to
gratify at the expense of his friends.

This tendency was exhibited by him in the first morning's march, during
which he proved his superiority in woodcraft, and firmly established
himself in the confidence of the party. The incident occurred thus:--

After a hearty and hasty breakfast--for, being lost, they were all
anxious to get found as soon as possible--they set forth in single file;
Bunco leading, Old Peter, Muggins, and Larry following, and Will Osten
bringing up the rear. During the first hour they walked easily and
pleasantly enough through level and rather open woodland, where they met
few obstacles worth mentioning, so that Larry and Muggins, whose minds
were filled with the idea of wild beasts, and who were much excited by
the romance of their novel position, kept a sharp lookout on the bushes
right and left, the one shouldering his gigantic cudgel, the other
flourishing his shillelah in a humorous free-and-easy way, and both
feeling convinced that with such weapons they were more than a match for
any tiger alive! When several hours had elapsed, however, without
producing any sign or sound of game, they began to feel disappointment,
and to regard their guide as an exaggerator if not worse; and when, in
course of time, the underwood became more dense and their passage
through the forest more difficult, they began to make slighting remarks
about their dark-skinned friend, and to question his fitness for the
duties of guide. In particular, Muggins--who was becoming fatigued,
owing partly to the weight of his club as well as to the weight of his
body and the shortness of his legs--at last broke out on him and
declared that he would follow no further.

"Why," said he gruffly, "it's as plain as the nose on yer nutmeg face,
that ye're steerin' a wrong coorse. You'll never make the coast on this
tack."

"Oh yis, wees will," replied Bunco, with a quiet smile.

"No, wees won't, ye lump o' mahogany," retorted Muggins. "Don't the
coast run nor' and by west here away?"

"Troo," assented Bunco with a nod.

"Well, and ain't we goin' due north just now, so that the coast lies
away on our left, an' for the last three hours you've bin bearin' away
to the _right_, something like nor' and by east, if it's not nor' _east_
an' by east, the coast being all the while on yer port beam, you
grampus--that's so, ain't it?"

"Yis, dat's so," replied B