Maurice, the lieutenant’s never-failing resort when a meal was to be prepared, was set at work to get breakfast for the officer, Fred, and myself, while one of the men was detailed to perform the same duty for his companions.  Another man was stationed as guard over the bushrangers, and the balance were ordered to look to their animals, which attention consisted in watering them at a spring near the hut, and then turning them loose with their fore legs tied together to prevent their straying to any great distance.  One animal, however, was kept ready saddled in case of an emergency, and not permitted to roam beyond the extent of a long rope, like the reattas of Spain or Mexico.

Although I must confess that I was intensely hungry, and tired and sleepy with my long journey on horseback all night, yet I felt too uneasy in my mind to spend much time eating greasy beefsteaks and drinking strong coffee.  I had watched Bimbo from the time the cart had reached the hut to the period when the prisoners were to be allowed to eat their morning meal; and I had noticed the nervous manner in which the fellow had acted in spite of his assumed indifference.

Twice had he sauntered towards the cart in which the bushrangers were still confined, and each time had the sentry ordered him back, as no communication was allowed with the prisoners; but I saw the grim face of Jim Gulpin raised as he heard the voice of Bimbo, and an almost imperceptible sign passed between them.

More than ever convinced that there was an understanding with the parties, I watched for other tokens, but in vain; and it was not until one of the policemen ordered the stockman to carry the bushrangers’ food to them that I determined to be present and keep an eye upon his actions.

The handcuffs were removed from the prisoners’ wrists to enable them to eat, but the irons were not taken from their feet, for Murden had no idea of trusting them with their liberty even for a moment.

“Here’s your grub,” shouted Bimbo, who was allowed to pass the sentry this time, as he had a wooden pail in his hand, none too clean, in which the food of the prisoners was placed.  “Here it is,” he continued, as he set it down in their midst, “and a darn’d sight too good for you it is too, and mighty thankful you had oughter be that you fell into a gentleman’s hands, and one that knows how to treat you.  If I had the right I’d starve you all, blast your picters.”

The ruffians replied with oaths and jeers, but they were too energetic to be sincere, and I suspected they were intended expressly for my ear, as I stood not far from them listening to every word that was uttered.

Had the bushrangers not said so much, I should have suspected less, and while I pretended to be admiring the parrot, I still watched the doings in the cart.