“Well, Sam, how do you feel?” inquired Murden.

“Weak from the loss of blood, sir, but I think that I shall get over it.”

“Get over it?” repeated Murden, in pretended surprise, “of course you will.  I don’t want to lose the best fighting man that I have got in my troop.  When we get back to Melbourne you can go into hospital quarters if you wish to, but not for any length of time.  I cannot spare you many weeks, Sam.”

“I’m glad to hear it, sir,” replied the policeman, in a tone of voice that showed how pleased he was.  “Did you see how I brought the fellow down who was aiming at us?”

“Of course I did.  I knew the instant you sighted him that he was a dead robber.  But don’t talk any more.  I will have a torch lighted, even if it brings the devils upon us, and by its light I will bind up your wound so that you will feel quite nicely by morning.”

One of the men brought a lighted limb of a gum tree, and by it Murden examined the wound, which seemed quite severe, although he did not say so.  After he had applied some balsam which he carried in a case in his pocket, he re-bound the leg, and then ordered the torch to be extinguished.

“The poor fellow cannot live until morning,” whispered Murden, as we walked one side.  “The main artery of his leg is cut, and he is slowly bleeding to death.”

“What are we to do with these wounded men, sir?” asked Maurice, after he had stationed the guard.

“What can we do with them?  We have neither wine, nor water, nor medicine to bestow.  But not to let them think we are cruel, call the wounded and find out how many there are, and tell them that in the morning we will attend to their wants, as far as we are able.”

“Where is the old stockman?” I asked, not recollecting seeing him since the fight was over.

Word was passed for him, but every one declared that he had not been seen since the moment when Murden recalled him from the pursuit of the rangers.

“Let him go,” said the officer; “he is perfectly able to take care of himself, and I have no doubt that he has a project in his head.”

“But how in the name of humanity did he manage to find you at such a favorable moment?”

“That is easily explained,” Murden replied.  “I left Melbourne two days since in pursuit of a man who has been committing murder in the city.  He started for the Ballarat diggings, and I have been on his trail until this noon, when I lost it, and had good reason to believe that he had cut across the country, intending to join a gang of bushrangers, secreted in the forest.  I thought that I should get information from the old stockman; so I concluded to ride to his hut.

“To my surprise I saw that your horses were confined in the cattle pen, and after frightening the old fellow’s daughter almost to death, I learned from her that you had been gone for two days on some kind of treasure seeking, in which her father was to take the lead and point out the money.  I feared that, you had got caught in some kind of a trap, set by the frequenters of these woods; so I determined, as I was no longer on the trail of the murderer, to take a look at your operations, and, if possible, lend a hand in getting the gold.”