“We have heard enough of this, Fred,” I said.  “Let us return, bring up Murden and his party, and take the villains alive.”

“Agreed,” cried my companion; and retracing our steps, we were once more by the side of Smith, who sat, in company with the hound, watching his two prisoners with great diligence.

“Your keg of rum is a blessing, Smith,” I said.  “The bushrangers are taking to it finely, and in an hour’s time they will be unconsciously drunk.”

“We are now going to join Murden and his policemen, and bring them up for the purpose of capturing the remainder of the gang.”

“Good—­I’ll wait here with these two, and give a good account of them when you return.  Let me keep the dog,” he said, as the hound rose to follow us.

I spoke a few words to the animal, and he quietly returned to the chief bushranger, and laid down by his side with a brilliant show of teeth.

There had not been a shot fired from the hut for more than half an hour.  The inmates were evidently puzzled at the silence of those on the outside, and as the gang were too busy getting drunk to attend to business, it was not probable that another attempt would be made before our return.

Ten minutes’ brisk travelling brought us in sight of Murden’s force.  They were on the alert, for we were challenged as we drew near, but were received joyfully by the officer and his men.  They suspected, from the sudden ceasing of the guns, that we had been surprised; and it was with the utmost astonishment that they listened to an account of the capture of the two men.

“We will lose no time,” cried the lieutenant “Mount, men, and proceed.”

As we trotted towards the hut, Fred suggested to give those on the inside an intimation of our presence, and as they would be likely to recognize the voice of their officer sooner than any body else, Murden rode to the door, dismounted, and rapping, spoke to his men in tones they well knew.

The bars were removed cautiously, but when convinced that their officer was speaking, the men were overjoyed.  They rushed out to be congratulated by their comrades, and tell the short story of their siege.  But there was no time to lose, if we desired to capture the bushrangers; so, leaving the horses in charge of one man, we joined Smith, and finding that his prisoners were safe, left them in charge of the dog, and then walked rapidly in the direction of the gang, still swilling from the rum keg.

They did not suspect our presence, although we heard a number of calls for their chief, and a few drunken surmises as to the reason of his long absence; and in the midst of their discussion, the loud voice of Murden rang out,—­

“Surrender, villains, you are surrounded!”

We could hear them start to their feet, and search for their guns, and then whisper together; and then a deep-toned voice exclaimed,—­

“Who asks us to surrender?”