“I am,” he replied.  “Black Darnley has committed his last crime in this world; and the man who has caused the police of Australia to turn pale with fear is now but a home for worms.”

“Let us rid the earth of his remains,” cried Fred, “and not let them fester here to breed pollution in the air.”

“Well said,” replied we all; and after every one had satisfied his curiosity, we gathered up dry branches and leaves and heaped them upon the pile, and then set it on fire, and as the flames roared and crackled, and licked the green corpses, we took our leave of that black forest, the home of bushrangers, natives, and poisonous reptiles.

As we turned to have a last glance at the fire, we saw the hound stalking solemnly around that putrid pile, and watching as though not satisfied until every particle of his enemy had mingled with his mother earth.

CHAPTER XIII.

The stockman and his parrot.—­Daring plot of A robber chieftain.

Tired with a hot, dusty ride across the prairie, we felt more like resting after the sleepless night and busy scenes through which we had passed, than commencing our journey at sundown, and so we intimated to Murden; but he was deaf to our hints, and gave his orders for getting ready regardless of them.

A hasty supper of roast lamb and hot coffee was awaiting us when we returned from the water, and while we were eating, a number of the policemen were despatched along the banks of the river to drive in Smith’s cattle, while others stored his goods, which they had collected during our absence, in the hut, and returned to the stockman a correct schedule of the same.

About sundown, the oxen were yoked together and attached to the cart.  The horses were saddled, and awaited their riders, and the only thing that detained us was the transfer of the bushrangers from the trees to the cart in which they were to be transported to Melbourne.  The wounded men were too seriously hurt to endure the journey, and, indeed, it was doubtful whether the poor wretches would survive many days, removed, as they were, hundreds of miles from a physician’s reach, and with no fit nourishment to sustain them.

Murden, when we remonstrated against the wounded men being disturbed, and given an opinion of the fatality of the act, received the news with the utmost sang froid, and expressed no particular desire that the men should live, under any circumstances; and finding that he could do nothing with them, and that they would never survive the journey to grace his triumphant entry into Melbourne, he wisely turned them over to the care of the aged convict and his daughter, both of whom promised to take care of them to the best of their ability, and in case they recovered, to hold them close prisoners until the lieutenant sent an order for their delivery.