Cheer after cheer both parties gave, and then there was heard the sound of axes and the placing of scaling ladders, as the soldiers gained the palisades.

“On them, bullies!” shouted a voice, which I recognized as Colonel Kellum’s; “show the d——­d rebels no quarter!  Kill, kill, kill!”

The soldiers had got their blood up, and responded to the barbarous orders with a yell like famished tigers on the scent of blood.  The timbers were torn away, and in rushed the disciplined men, firing volley after volley upon all who met their view.  We could hear the groans of the wounded, and shrieks of the dying, until at last the firing ceased for the want of victims, many having made their escape.

“Do you surrender?” we heard the colonel shout; and although we could not see whom he addressed, we suspected that Ross and his boldest adherents were making a stand in the enclosure.

“Let us try and save them,” cried Fred; and without listening to our warning, he started towards the palisade, followed close by Mr. Brown, Smith, and myself.

The soldiers took but little notice of us, thinking that we were government officials; so we worked our way by them until we reached the spot where Colonel Kellum was standing, surrounded by his officers.

“Do the d——­d rebels surrender?” the colonel repeated, just as we could witness the proceedings.

“Here’s the leader of ’em, sir, that says he will,” cried two or three soldiers, escorting Ross towards the colonel.

“The leader, hey!  Bring him here,” was the command.

Ross walked firmly towards his conqueror, and stopped when within a few paces.

“Are you the leader of these ragamuffins?” demanded Kellum, arrogantly.

“I was the leader of the miners, sir,” Ross replied, firmly.

“You own it, do you?  Hand me your gun.”

Ross complied with the command.

“Is it loaded?” the colonel asked.

“Yes, sir,” was the brief response.

“Then I will discharge it for you,” the military despot said.

He cocked the piece, placed it within two feet of the Canadian’s breast, and fired.  The unhappy man sprang into the air, threw his arms wildly over his head, and fell a corpse, a bullet having entered his heart.

CHAPTER LXXXIII.

ARREST OF FRED.—­TRIP TO MELBOURNE, AND ITS RESULTS.

There was a cry of horror at the atrocity of the deed; not from any of the officers who were present, but from the soldiers, who were not used to warfare of that description.

“O, cowardly deed,” cried Fred, who could not prevent giving expression to his feelings.

“Ha! what was that?” roared the colonel, turning towards us.

I endeavored to drag Fred from the scene, but he resisted my efforts stoutly.

“I say that to shoot a prisoner in cold blood is murder, and none but a base coward would resort to such an act,” cried Fred, raising his voice.  “Secure that man,” roared the colonel; but not a soldier stirred to enforce the order.