THE BUSHRANGERS.
A Yankee’s Adventures During His Second Visit to Australia.
BY WM. H. THOMES,
Author of “The Gold Hunters in Australia,” “The Bushrangers,” “Running the Blockade,” etc., etc.
Moloch appeared, bearing the almost lifeless form. “Look,” yelled the fiend, in a triumphant tone.
life in australia, or
sides would be equally well guarded, then glanced over the excited crowd, in hopes that Dan would array himself on our side—but that enterprising gentleman had suddenly disappeared, and left us to our fate.
“Stand back,” shouted the inspector; “it will be the worse for you. There’s many of you present who know me, and know that I have a large force of policemen on hand. If you strike a blow, not one of you shall escape justice.
“Unbar the door as quickly as possible,” whispered the inspector, after getting through with his threatening speech.
I lifted the heavy gum wood bar from its place, and then raised the latch, expecting that it would yield, but to my surprise it did not—it was locked, and the key in the pocket of the doorkeeper, who had made his escape from the room in company with Dan.
I almost uttered a groan of agony when I made the discovery, and to add to the perplexity of our situation, the ruffians must have understood our case, and known that the key was never left in the lock, for they uttered a discordant and ironical hoot, and then a shout of sardonic laughter.
“For Heaven’s sake, don’t be all night in getting that door open,” cried Fred, nervously, and I will confess that I also partook of the same complaint.
“Now for a rush—cut them to pieces,” exclaimed many voices; but I observed that the cries came from those who were farthest from us, and out of the reach of our pistols, which we were forced to display, in hope of keeping the robbers at a respectful distance.
“Is the door unbarred?” asked Mr. Brown, turning half round, and exposing his side to the knives of the crowd, and quick as thought, a man sprang forward to begin the work of bloodshed; but sudden as were his movements, they were anticipated, for I raised the heavy bar, which I had not relinquished, and let it fall upon his head with crushing force.
The poor devil fell at our feet without uttering a groan, although many spasmodic twitchings of his nerves showed that he was not killed outright. His long knife narrowly missed the side of the inspector, and for the first attempt at our annihilation, it was not to be despised.
The wretches uttered yells of rage when they saw their comrade fall, but none seemed inclined to assume the leadership and begin the attack in earnest.
Not one of their motions escaped us, and as long as they were disposed to brandish their knives at a distance, we did not choose to carry matters to extremities; but change of tactics was suddenly resorted to on the part of our opponents, that placed us in no little peril.
All the tumblers, bottles, and decanters of the bar were taken possession of by the savage scoundrels, and the first intimation that we had of the fact was the crushing of a bottle (empty, of course—they were not the sort of men to throw away liquor of any kind) against the door just above our heads.
The fragments were showered upon our faces and shoulders, before we had time to consider on the matter another bottle flew past my head, and hit our prisoner upon one of his shoulders, injuring