The noise awakened Murden and his men; and just as they began inquiring the reason of our violence, there was a loud shout heard within the hut, the door was rudely thrown open, and at the head of the robbers, brandishing his carbine, was Gulpin.

The police fell back a few paces in astonishment; but a rallying cheer from Murden reassured them, and in spite of the known desperate characters of the bushrangers, they charged on them.

Gulpin did not stop to discharge the weapon which he held, but swinging it over his head he brought it down upon the skull of the foremost man, with a crash, shivering the gun into a hundred pieces, and knocking the fellow senseless.

Gulpin did not wait to repeat the blow, but eluding the many hands thrust out to seize him, he sprang one side, and leaving his gang to continue the unequal combat, ran swiftly across the prairie, as though determined to escape at all hazards, even if his gang were captured.

“The villain will escape!” shouted Murden, more anxious to secure the person of Gulpin than his men.

The lieutenant rushed to the shed to mount the horse usually kept in readiness, but Bimbo had turned him loose upon the plain.

With a bitter oath the officer grasped one of his men’s carbines and discharged its contents after the runaway.  The ball flew wide of its mark, and we could hear a taunting laugh from the fugitive, at his aim.

“Show me a specimen of your American skill,” cried Murden, after a hasty glance at his men, and finding that every robber was secured excepting the chief; “cripple that devil for me, and I am your debtor for life.”

Gulpin was about forty rods from us, when the lieutenant spoke, and was running almost as rapidly as a kangaroo dog.  In a few minutes he would have been beyond our reach, and recommenced his career of crime.

Under these circumstances, Fred felt that he owed a duty to the world.  Hastily bringing his rifle to his shoulder, he glanced along its deadly tube and fired.  For a few seconds we could not perceive that the shot had affected the bushranger, and I was about to try my skill, when the villain staggered and fell heavily to the earth.

His leg was broken near the knee, and the bone was terribly shattered by the rifle ball.

CHAPTER XIV.

Discovery of stolen treasures in the stockman’s cellar.

Lying upon the ground were the bushrangers, bruised, bloody, and dirty, groaning with disappointment and pain, and one or two of the most violent ones cursing so loudly that the air smelt sulphurous.  Across the bodies of the fallen wretches were the policemen, with huge beads of perspiration standing on their brows, and faces red with the sudden and unusual exertion which they had endured to conquer the desperate robbers.

The poor fellow whom the leader of the robbers had injured by breaking a carbine over his head, was lying on the ground, bleeding profusely from a long gash in his skull.  He was assisted into the hut, and left for a few minutes, until more pressing demands had been attended to; and after the prisoners were once again ironed, and chained to the cart, some one asked what had become of Bimbo; as that individual had not been seen since the commencement of the attack.