“The police of Melbourne!” cried Murden.

“Curse the police of Melbourne!  Come, my hearties, let’s give it to the fools!”

An irregular discharge of half a dozen muskets followed his words, and a man at my side was struck down, and wounded terribly.  He was shot through the heart, and died instantly.

Their firing revealed their position, and we saw that they were determined to rush to close quarters, and try the odds, drunk as they were.  Murden no longer hesitated.

“Give them a volley, my men,” he cried; and the police, enraged at the loss of a comrade, poured in a murderous discharge from their carbines.

Yells and imprecations followed, and loud above the groans we could hear one or two shouting that they would surrender, and begging the police not to fire again.  Murden granted their prayer, and when daylight made its appearance, the dead bodies of four bushrangers, and three mortally wounded, were lying by that quiet stream, the waters of which received their blood, and bore it to the ocean.

CHAPTER XII.

Discovery of A masonic ring.—­Funeral pyre of black Darnley.

Knowing the treacherous character of the bushrangers, Murden would not allow one of his men to venture to the assistance of the wounded robbers.  He formed a circle around them, and with carbines on the cock, his force waited until daylight before relieving their wants.

In vain Fred and myself offered to venture among the wounded, and take to them water.  Murden would not listen to the proposal for a moment; not that he was naturally hard-hearted, but he knew the men whom he had to deal with better’ than ourselves; and he imagined that we should get a few inches of cold steel for our charity.

As daylight appeared, one by one of the gang that had escaped uninjured, were called out, manacled, and confined to a tree, to prevent all possibility of flight.  There were many fierce oaths uttered by the wretches, as they felt the bracelets slipped over their wrists by Murden; and two of the hardened villains boasted of the murders which they had committed, and laid plans for a continuance of their crimes when they escaped, as they expected to do.

It was with difficulty that the policemen could be restrained; and once when Murden was absent for a few moments, and had left the charge of the prisoners to Fred and myself, one of the men, carried away by sudden rage at the taunts which the bushrangers hurled at him, raised his carbine, and if Fred had not struck up the barrel just as he did, the sheriff of Melbourne would have been spared the necessity of finding hemp for one robber.  As it was, the ball whistled harmlessly over his head.

“You are mad!” cried Fred; “would you murder the wretches in cold blood?”

“Ay!” shouted the indignant policeman; “they have committed many murders, and it is time their career was ended.”