An old flannel shirt, and a pair of canvas trousers, completed the costume of a man who said he preferred to live on a cattle station, and receive about ten dollars per month, than to trust to luck, and work hard at the mines.
"Hullo, Bimbo," shouted the lieutenant, as the stockman came in sight, and leaned languidly against the door, as though too lazy to support his own weight.
The fellow muttered something which we did not hear, and Murden shouted again—
"Did we disturb you from a refreshing nap, Bimbo, or have you grown lazier than ever? Come, stir yourself, and start a fire; we want breakfast. In a few minutes there will be a dozen more here, and they will eat you out of house and home, unless you are smart. Bushrangers always have good appetites."
It might have been fancy, but I thought I saw the indolent Bimbo suddenly start at the word "bushrangers," and his apparently heavy-looking eyes were lighted up with an energetic look that I little expected from a man such as his outward appearance denoted. Whether my surmises were correct or not, the man resumed his old habit in a moment, and if possible looked more fatigued than ever.
"I don't see what you want, coming here at this hour in the morning," Bimbo said, with a yawn. "I was just dreaming that I could live without work, when you roused me. What is up that takes you from Melbourne?"
The question was asked in the most indifferent tone that a person can imagine; but I thought I detected an eagerness to know the mission upon which Murden had been engaged that but ill compared with the man's general indifference and lazy deportment.
"We have been after bushrangers, Bimbo," answered the lieutenant, dismounting from his horse and approaching the stockman, who still retained his reclining position against the side of the door.
"And did you meet any?" asked the stockman, indifferently, stealing a look at the face of the officer as though anxious to obtain his answer before he uttered it.
"Meet any?" replied Murden, "why, of course we did. You will not be troubled with robbers in this part of the country for some time to come, I'll warrant you."
I saw a black frown gather on the stockman's brow, but it was dispelled as soon as formed, although I could not help feeling that the news troubled the man exceedingly.
"Come, stir yourself," cried the lieutenant, when he saw that the stockman did not appear disposed to move, and as he spoke, he laid his hand lightly upon the fellow's shoulder, and pulled him from his position in the doorway.
"Come, awaken, old fellow, and let us have the best quarter of beef you possess, for we are all hungry, and I'll warrant that Jim Gulpin and his gang—"
"So help me, God, lieutenant," cried Bimbo, hurriedly, "I don't know him or his men, and I don't see what right—"
"Why, what is the matter with the man?" laughed Murden. "I didn't say that you knew him. I meant that he and his gang, or what remained of them, are my prisoners, and in less than a week their necks will be stretched a few inches longer. There's news for you, Bimbo."
"Gulpin and his band prisoners," I heard the fellow say, in an undertone, as though he could scarcely comprehend the news, and then an expression stole over his face, that for a moment was frightful to contemplate.
"Ah, here they come at last," Murden said, pointing to the cart, which was slowly creeping along, and had been screened from view by the house.
"You don't mean to say you and your men took the bushrangers without, any 'sistance from others, do you?" Bimbo asked.
"Why, these two Americans lent their valuable aid," replied the officer, pointing to Fred and myself.
"P'raps it would have been as well if they staid in their own country and looked after robbers, instead of coming to Australia," replied the dirty scamp, with an aside glance at us that spoke murder as plainly as if he had a knife at our throats.
"Cease your grumbling," shouted Murden, angrily, "or I'll lay my bridle over your shoulders until they ache. Why, you miserable dog, have you not complained to me a dozen times that you feared your life was in danger from these same prowling gangs, and that they stole your cattle in spite of all you could do? Another word, and I'll give you cause for muttering. Away with you. Start a fire, and then I'll set one of my men to cook breakfast. You are too dirty to be intrusted with food."
Bimbo must have exercised a strong control over his emotions, for in spite of the dirt and grease with which his face was smeared, I saw it flush angrily; but no other sign of passion was displayed. He thrust his hands into his pockets, and with a slouching gait, as though too indolent to move without strong inducement, sauntered towards the shed and began kindling a fire.
"A grumbling cur," muttered Murden, looking after him; "I have half a mind to tie him up and scar his back, and see if it will not make him a little more energetic." But with all of the bluster of the officer, I saw that he did not suspect the man's honesty, and I was glad that he did not.
By the time Smith had joined us with his cart and prisoners, Bimbo had started a fire, and produced a hind quarter of a young bullock, killed the day before, and which had been rubbed over with fine salt to protect it from the millions of insects which infest the air of Australia. The fellow made an offer to cut the meat for us, but a look at his hands was sufficient to deter us from accepting the proposition.
Maurice, the lieutenant's never-failing resort when a meal was to be prepared, was set at work to get breakfast for the officer, Fred, and myself, while one of the men was detailed to perform the same duty for his companions. Another man was stationed as guard over the bushrangers, and the balance were ordered to look to their animals, which attention consisted in watering them at a spring near the hut, and then turning them loose with their fore legs tied together to prevent their straying to any great distance. One animal, however, was kept ready saddled in case of an emergency, and not permitted to roam beyond the extent of a long rope, like the reattas of Spain or Mexico.
Although I must confess that I was intensely hungry, and tired and sleepy with my long journey on horseback all night, yet I felt too uneasy in my mind to spend much time eating greasy beefsteaks and drinking strong coffee. I had watched Bimbo from the time the cart had reached the hut to the period when the prisoners were to be allowed to eat their morning meal; and I had noticed the nervous manner in which the fellow had acted in spite of his assumed indifference.
Twice had he sauntered towards the cart in which the bushrangers were still confined, and each time had the sentry ordered him back, as no communication was allowed with the prisoners; but I saw the grim face of Jim Gulpin raised as he heard the voice of Bimbo, and an almost imperceptible sign passed between them.
More than ever convinced that there was an understanding with the parties, I watched for other tokens, but in vain; and it was not until one of the policemen ordered the stockman to carry the bushrangers' food to them that I determined to be present and keep an eye upon his actions.
The handcuffs were removed from the prisoners' wrists to enable them to eat, but the irons were not taken from their feet, for Murden had no idea of trusting them with their liberty even for a moment.
"Here's your grub," shouted Bimbo, who was allowed to pass the sentry this time, as he had a wooden pail in his hand, none too clean, in which the food of the prisoners was placed. "Here it is," he continued, as he set it down in their midst, "and a darn'd sight too good for you it is too, and mighty thankful you had oughter be that you fell into a gentleman's hands, and one that knows how to treat you. If I had the right I'd starve you all, blast your picters."
The ruffians replied with oaths and jeers, but they were too energetic to be sincere, and I suspected they were intended expressly for my ear, as I stood not far from them listening to every word that was uttered.
Had the bushrangers not said so much,