The Ghost Camp by Rolf Boldrewood

"DOWN, Jerry! Down, Driver! " said the bushman, "that'll do, you're making row enough to frighten all the cattle in the country. " By this time the guardians of the outpost had left off their clamour, and one of them, by jumping up and fawning on Blount, showed that he had gained their friendship. The older dog, not so demonstrative, had stains of blood on his mouth and chest. "Ha! Driver, you old villain, been behind those cattle yesterday? Now lie down, and let's see if we can raise a fire and get some tea under weigh, before the boys come in."

After unsaddling, and turning out their horses, they entered the hut, which, though not differing materially from the bush structures which Blount had already visited, was seen to be neater than usual in the internal arrangements. "Little-River-Jack" proceeded at once to business. By lighting twigs from a store of brush-wood, laid ready for such an emergency, and adding another to the smouldering logs at the back of the huge chimney he secured a cheerful blaze, calculated to warm through his shivering companion, and to provide him speedily with the comforting, universal beverage. Opening a rude locker, he took from it a tin dish containing corned beef and "damper," also a couple of tin plates with knives and forks of democratic appearance, and a butcher's knife which did duty for a carver.