"In with the bodies," cried Murden, "we have much to do before sunset."
As soon as the grave was filled in, the troop regained their former jocularity, and they began dividing among themselves the property which they had found upon the persons of the bushrangers.
The amount was not large, not more than a hundred pounds, yet Murden received his share without a blush, appearing to think that he was doing no more than his duty. Even the dead policeman was remembered, and as he had left a widow in Melbourne, his portion was deposited with the lieutenant, to be paid to her. As Fred and myself were offered our portion, we declined, and begged that it might be given to the lady in question, which action on our part raised us in the estimation of the men immensely.
"Dare you venture across the prairie this forenoon?" asked Murden; "I would not ask you, were it not necessary to use all despatch to reach Melbourne as soon as possible; but to benefit you and your friends, the convicts, I must get a sight of Darnley and his gang."
"If that is your object," we replied, "we are prepared to accompany you as soon as you are ready. Let us get a cup of coffee and a piece of broiled lamb, and then start."
"But my prisoners?" suggested the lieutenant.
"Leave them in charge of a portion of your men until we return," I replied.
"That is easily said; but while I am gone, my men, who are but human, will probably make free with that keg of rum, which I have thus far kept from their reach; and if they are without restraint, would be just as likely to let the prisoners escape, or shoot them, or get to quarrelling among themselves, as any thing else."
"Where is the keg?" asked Fred.
The officer poked aside some bushes where he had placed it, and revealed its hiding place.
"I'll soon quiet your anxiety," Fred said, and as he spoke he pulled out the spigot, and the Jamaica rum mingled with the earth.
"A harsh proceeding, but the best under the circumstances," cried the lieutenant, with a mournful look, as he heard the rum gush forth as though saying "good, good;" "I love a drop of good liquor, but men, when drinking, have no discretion."
Murden turned away with a sigh, as though the strong fumes which assailed his nostrils were suggestive of lost hopes, and for the remainder of the day, he was melancholy.
On reëntering the stockman's hut, we found him seated beside his daughter's rude couch, tenderly bathing her head with fresh river water. She was conscious now, but still very weak and feeble, and spoke in whispers. She held out her hand to us when we entered, and smiled, as though thanking us for the care which we had taken to revenge her injuries.
Her pulse we found to be more regular, and if she received no fresh shock, we thought there was a prospect of her being entirely well in a few days, and so we told her.
At our request Murden stationed one of his men at the door with strict orders to admit no one who would be likely to disturb her, and after we had partaken of our rude repast, we got ready for our hot ride over the plain to the forest.
Before we started, however, we paid a visit to the bushrangers, still chained to trees, and incapable of assisting each other. We were greeted with derisive shouts and fierce taunts, which did not disturb our equanimity in the least; and when the robbers discovered such to be the case, they again stretched themselves upon the ground, as well as their irons would permit, and relapsed into sullenness.
Murden left eight of his men to take charge of the prisoners, with strict orders for two of them to keep guard without rest or sleep. We were about to mount our horses, when a brawny ruffian we had made prisoner the night before shouted—
"Aren't you going to give us something to eat, or are we to be starved like dogs? You are all cowards, and dare not give us fair play, and an open fight, but I didn't suppose that you were so frightened as to refuse to let us have a mouthful."
"Dress a sheep for them, and let them eat their fill," ordered Murden; "but mind that they escape not, on your lives."
We rode off, followed by the shouts and maledictions of the gang, and even when we were one hundred rods distant I could hear the ruffians call after us, bidding us return and learn bravery from them.
"You now know why I feared to leave the prisoners in charge of my men when a keg of rum was near at hand. The bushrangers, knowing that hanging is certain, would try and provoke a sudden and easier death. I do not fear the temper of the men when free from liquor."
Smith, Fred and myself, besides two policemen, composed the party, and regardless of the heat, which poured down as though it would melt our brains, we urged our panting horses over the plain, and hardly drew rein until we reached the edge of the forest, where we halted for consultation.
It was a bold experiment to venture with a small force to the retreat of the once formidable outlaw, for there was no telling whether or no a portion of his gang were living at his haunt. The officer looked up to us for advice, and we consulted the hound, which had accompanied us, and now stood by our sides panting and lolling out his great tongue, and wondering, I suppose, why we did not stop at the river.
"Let us dismount, and shade the animals as well as possible," I advised, "and then trust to the sagacity of the dog to detect an ambush. My life on his shrewdness."
The advice was acted on, when leaving one man to take charge of the animals, we examined our guns and pistols, and made sure that they were in order; and then, with a few words of encouragement to the hound, which he appeared to understand, we moved along the path we had travelled when on our first visit.
With guns on the cock, and examining every thicket of bushes to see if it concealed an enemy, we made but slow progress. Yet trusting more to the dog than to ourselves, we at length came in sight of the scene of our former exploits. All was quiet and still in the vicinity. Not a twig moved, unless displaced by a gaudy-colored parrot, too lazy, under the withering influence of the heat, to even chatter.
The hound had bounded into the enclosure, and rushed towards a pile of branches which had been placed in the clearing since we were there. Regardless of every thing else he tore away at the wood with his teeth, and uttered fierce growls, as though he had found an enemy beneath that pile, and was determined to get at him.
We sent a man to examine the neighborhood, and then went to our four-legged friend's assistance. With angry growls the dog helped us to throw aside the branches, but long before reaching the last one, we suspected the contents of the pile. A horrible stench had for some time warned us that we were in the vicinity of carrion.
The last branch was removed, and lying in all their ghastly ugliness were Black Darnley and his crew. Darnley had greatly altered since his death; but there was no mistaking that massive mouth, filled with strong teeth, firmly set together, as though striving even with his last breath to overcome the King of Terrors.
"Are you satisfied?" we asked of Murden, turning away from the sickening sight with a shudder.
"I am," he replied. "Black Darnley has committed his last crime in this world; and the man who has caused the police of Australia to turn pale with fear is now but a home for worms."
"Let us rid the earth of his remains," cried Fred, "and not let them fester here to breed pollution in the air."
"Well said," replied we all; and after every one had satisfied his curiosity, we gathered up dry branches and leaves and heaped them upon the pile, and then set it on fire, and as the flames roared and crackled, and licked the green corpses, we took our leave of that black forest, the home of bushrangers, natives, and poisonous reptiles.
As we turned to have a last glance at the fire, we saw the hound stalking solemnly around that putrid pile, and watching as though not satisfied until every particle of his enemy had mingled with his mother earth.
CHAPTER XIII.