“Ve is close to um,” he said.  “A few steps more and ve’ll be in sight of their camp.  Now, don’t you think I’d better go behind, ’cos I’m not good at fightin’, and Nosey is the devil when he gets in a rage.”

“Don’t stop to remonstrate,” Murden replied.  “Lead us to the very camp of the bushrangers, and don’t think that you can go to the rear, and escape the action of my pistol in case you play us false.  Onward you go.”

“Here’s a precious fix,” muttered Steel Spring.  “I’ve got to lead the way to the presence of that old devil, Nosey, and I know’s he’ll pin me the fust.”

“Stop your grumbling,” said Maurice, “or I’ll treat your lank body to a dose of this.”

He pointed to his huge pistol, and the threat effectually silenced all objections on the part of the guide, who meekly continued to move on, as though under the influence of some charm which he could not resist.

Ten minutes brought us to the edge of a clearing similar to the one which Black Darnley and his gang had occupied.  It was in the most dense part of the forest, and well chosen for secrecy.  Near the edge was a spring of water, and directly in the centre of the vacant space was a log hut of large dimensions, with loopholes through which muskets could be poked in case of an assault.

There was no sign of life about the premises, and we were led to wonder whether the gang was within the hut sleeping off last night’s fatigue, or whether they were off on an expedition.  If the latter surmise was correct, we might have to wait three or four days before they returned, and that was something which we could not afford to do.

If the gang was asleep, an excellent opportunity was offered to capture them without the loss of a man; but who would venture to creep to the hut and find out, when there was a probability of a dozen men being encompassed behind those walls, waiting to take us by surprise, instead of our treating them to such a course of strategy!

Murden looked first at his men, but they rather avoided his eyes, and then his glance wandered to the old convict, but he did not appear to take the hint, and returned the stave with one of mildness.  Fred’s turn came next, and in him the right man was found.

“I see what you want, lieutenant,” Fred said, with a smile, “and I am ready to comply.  Keep me well covered with your guns, and think there is not much danger.”

He left his rifle with me, and then, getting upon his hands and knees, crept forward, carefully sheltering his body, as far as possible, with stumps and tufts of grass, until he reached the door, which stood open.  He glanced hastily in, and then, without wasting time, turned his steps towards us as fast as possible.

“Well,” we whispered, “what have you to report?”

“The bushrangers are in the hut, and sleeping, I think.”

“Are you sure?” asked Murden.

“No.  I am not sure that they are sleeping, but I am sure that they are lying on the floor, and apparently are not aware of our approach,” returned Fred.