Not a little to Bony’s surprise, Burning Water chuckled.

“They will be able to choose their battleground before we reach the homestead of The McPherson,” he said. “Half way across the plain they will be favoured with plenty of cover. What will you do then?”

“I will decide when we reach the cover you speak of. Meanwhile… Ah, not quite so close.” In excellent imitation of a tram conductor, he added: “Hurry along, please!”

Again he fired and the man who had edged close skipped out of range without loss of time.

In this somewhat unorthodox manner the unusual pair of strangely met men moved out of the foothills and began crossing the plain. As they progressed so the vegetation covering the land changed. At first the road crossed exceptionally wide clay-pans which if joined together would have provided a super speed-track for racing cars. Once across the pans the road “flowed” over slight undulation covered with annual saltbush. The mirage lay heavily, and presently the hills became vast mountains, with water stretching far back along their valleys.

The Illprinka men appeared to be walking on stilts, and the occasional old-man saltbush, ten feet high, seemed to be fifty feet in height. Now and then the road passed close to one of these giant shrubs, forcing Bony and his companion on the march to make a detour of it.

What further astonished Bonaparte this astonishing day was the persistency of the Illprinka men. Their purpose was apparently to obtain possession of the attache case, and although only nine in number they showed no nervousness of being attacked by the people of the Wantella. Chief Burning Water walked beside him, carrying the swag as though it were a feather. His eyes were shining and his full lips were expanded in a broad smile. He knew at any given second the approximate position of every Illprinka man, and sometimes he advised that a bullet be “pumped” into this or that bush. “Are those trees ahead?” Bony asked.