“That’s a pretty mean sort of business,” he said to Jack, when he had an opportunity to speak to him without being overheard. “I’d rather be a robber right out than lure people into danger.”
“So would I,” responded Jack. “That Fletcher’s worse than a pirate.”
So they went on, but slowly, that the boys, though compelled to walk, had little difficulty in keeping up. They were necessarily anxious, but their predominant feeling was of curiosity as to their destination, and as to the bushrangers’ mode of life.
At length they came out of the woods into more open ground.
On a slight rise stood a collection of huts, covered with sheets of the bark of the gum-tree, held on by ties of bullock hide. For the most part they contained but one room each. One, however, was large, and, the boys afterwards learned, was occupied by the captain of the bushrangers. Another served as a stable for the horses of the party.
This Harry judged to be the home of the outlaws, for no sooner had they come in sight of it than they leaped from their horses and led them up to the stable, relieving them of their saddles. Then the bushrangers sat down on the ground, and lounged at their ease. The attendants forthwith made preparations for a meal, appropriating the stores which had just been taken from Obed and the boys. The captives were not sorry that there was a prospect of a meal, for by this time they were hungry. They followed the example of their companions, and threw themselves down on the ground.
Next to them was a young bushranger, apparently about twenty-two years of age, who had a pleasant face, indicative of good humour.
“How do you like our home?” he asked, turning to Harry with a smile.
“It is a pleasant place,” answered Harry.
“How would you like to live here?”