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I have already referred to Colonel Warburton. Mr. Gosse's is of more recent date. I have never been able to read his journal to this day; but I hope to be able to do so now. Through the kindness of Mr. Phillipson, of Beltana, I was able to see his map of the country he passed over, with which I am very well pleased; and, in spite of what some people have said, I think that Mr.

Passing me the salt, which I did not require, he supplied with it some personal data of which I felt no greater need. His name was McGuntrie, he announced; he was sales agent for the famous Phillipson Rifles and was being dispatched to secure a gigantic contract on the other side.

"You don't know all my accomplishments, Phillipson," the captain laughed, for the idea that there existed such a thing as a Burmese peasant who could talk English had not occurred to the other. "I am taking him to the chief, to show off my powers;" and passed on, leaving the officer looking after him, with a puzzled expression on his face.

Phillipson is going to examine you, and to report that you'll be a dead man in a year's time if you stop another week in this country. You are going out of it, and you are going to stop out of it. Do you understand? Stop out of it to the end of your days. For if ever you put foot in it again I'll handle you as a terrier handles a rat! Dollops?" "Yes, guv'ner?" "My things packed and ready?"