"Don't be fools, you boys. I know you. If you will stop I won't hurt a hair of your heads, but I'll shoot you, as sure as my name is Starlight, if you don't pull up."
"The mean hound," said Alec, angrily; "not hurt a hair of our heads. Why he'd cut our throats, smiling all the time, if he had sworn on the Bible not to do so."
"Look here, Alec, they are certainly gaining on us. We are overweighted with this gold. We must get rid of it."
"That is just what I mean to do. Put on a spurt when we get into that belt of gums, that we can gain a minute or so."
Telling Murri of their intention, as they entered the narrow band of gum trees they spurred their horses, and Alec, who was leading him then, whipped up the pack-horse, and, regardless of their limbs, they dashed between the smooth trunks, and, emerging into the brilliant moonlight on the other side, tore down the little incline to the patch of marshy ground that lay at the bottom.
"To that little pool of water," said Alec, pointing across the low ground, which the recent rains had again converted to a swamp; and without decreasing their speed they turned towards it. Pulling up by the side of the little shining pool for one brief moment, Alec said—
"Fling every one of the bags of gold into it. Make haste!"
He threw his own in, with a heavy splash, as he spoke, and leaning across the pack-horse he tore the little sacks from its saddle and flung them in the water. Murri and George followed suit.
"Ride through the pool," Geordie whispered hoarsely, "or they will see it rippling, and guess what we have done."