Mr. Campbell returned fire so accurately and repeatedly, having several rifles and fowling-pieces, that the robbers believed more than one man to be behind the defences. Mrs. Campbell carried ammunition and helped to load. On one occasion, when crossing the line of fire, a bullet grazed her neck. All this time the firing was kept up briskly, though more than once a proposal came to harm nothing if the garrison surrendered, but with ruffianly threats if the defence was continued. One only reply was made, 'Come and take us.'
After half an hour's incessant fusillade, a new idea struck the attacking party. The outbuildings were composed of 'pisé,' a preparation of rammed earth, as its name implies, much favoured by Mr. Campbell, and singularly adapted for dwellings in an arid land. Now came a lull with fresh disposition of forces.
The stable immediately in the rear of the cottage was discovered to be in flames. A favourite horse of Mr. Campbell's, unable to escape, was burnt alive. As the screams of the tortured animal pierced the night air, his owner (he confessed) felt uncommonly wolfish. 'I will have one of you for poor Highflyer,' said he, as he ground his teeth. The burning stable would have caused the roof of the cottage to catch fire, as there was a dray loaded with hay standing between it and the back of the house, had not Mrs. Campbell and the servant maid courageously covered the hay with a tarpaulin.
During the pause in the firing which took place, after the flames lighted up the scene, Mrs. Campbell made an important reconnaissance. Stealing to the corner of the verandah, she examined a high paling fence, from behind which the assailants had commenced the attack. 'I saw,' she told her husband on returning, 'a man jumping up from time to time, and looking over towards the house.'
Mr. Campbell awaited the next appearance, and, taking a snap-shot, sent a bullet through the outlaw's throat. A final volley was fired and returned. Then silence ensued. Half an hour afterwards the 'besieged resident' walked down to the men's hut and brought up the station-hands, who had preserved a strict neutrality during the engagement. They found O'Malley lying dead under a tree, whither he had been dragged by his companions through the standing oats. The siege of Goimbla had been raised.
Mr. Keightley's experiences as a 'besieged resident' were not dissimilar from those of Mr. Campbell. A Goldfields Commissioner, a sportsman, and a determined man, he was attacked in his own house at Dunn's Plains, near Bathurst, while the robbers of the escort were still at large.
Like Mr. Campbell, he was prepared, was a dead shot, and killed one of his assailants. I may mention that I knew Mr. Keightley well for many years, and had the account of the affair from himself. The gang surrounded the house at mid-day, and finding such cover as they might, commenced firing, after calling upon the garrison to surrender. Mr. Keightley, on his part, kept up a brisk fire from time to time, and dislodged several of the besiegers from their hiding-places. He himself narrowly escaped being hit on several occasions, as his position was not completely protected. Bourke had been the most daring and aggressive of the party, and in gaining a nearer position, he partially exposed himself and was laid low by a snap-shot.
Up to this stage of the affair the conditions were not unlike those of the Goimbla siege. The robbers lost a man in each case. But here the circumstances varied materially. The attack on Mr. Keightley's household was during daylight—the one on Mr. Campbell's after nightfall. On the death of O'Malley, the robbers decided upon a retreat; but soon after Bourke fell, a discovery was made that Mr. Keightley's ammunition had been expended. He was therefore at their mercy, and had no alternative but to yield.
The four persons then in the house—Mr. and Mrs. Keightley, Dr. Pechey, a relative of the lady of the house, and a servant woman—surrendered themselves to the bushrangers, who announced their intention of shooting Mr. Keightley in requital for their comrade's death. To this end he was marched to some distance by two of the bushrangers, while the others were holding a colloquy with Mrs. Keightley and the servant, who passionately implored them to spare Mr. Keightley's life.