Knowing the treacherous character of the bushrangers, Murden would not allow one of his men to venture to the assistance of the wounded robbers. He formed a circle around them, and with carbines on the cock, his force waited until daylight before relieving their wants.
In vain Fred and myself offered to venture among the wounded, and take to them water. Murden would not listen to the proposal for a moment; not that he was naturally hard-hearted, but he knew the men whom he had to deal with better' than ourselves; and he imagined that we should get a few inches of cold steel for our charity.
As daylight appeared, one by one of the gang that had escaped uninjured, were called out, manacled, and confined to a tree, to prevent all possibility of flight. There were many fierce oaths uttered by the wretches, as they felt the bracelets slipped over their wrists by Murden; and two of the hardened villains boasted of the murders which they had committed, and laid plans for a continuance of their crimes when they escaped, as they expected to do.
It was with difficulty that the policemen could be restrained; and once when Murden was absent for a few moments, and had left the charge of the prisoners to Fred and myself, one of the men, carried away by sudden rage at the taunts which the bushrangers hurled at him, raised his carbine, and if Fred had not struck up the barrel just as he did, the sheriff of Melbourne would have been spared the necessity of finding hemp for one robber. As it was, the ball whistled harmlessly over his head.
"You are mad!" cried Fred; "would you murder the wretches in cold blood?"
"Ay!" shouted the indignant policeman; "they have committed many murders, and it is time their career was ended."
"I grant that," returned Fred; "but these men are now in the hands of the law, and are entitled to a fair trial. You are paid for protecting them, as well as apprehending. Do not let your conscience ever accuse you of murdering a prisoner."
"You are right, sir," returned the policeman, with evident respect; "I was foolish to be so moved, and beg you to forgive me."
"I have nothing to forgive," replied Fred, amused at the man's earnestness; "but if you wish to do a really good action, lend Jack and myself aid to bind up the wounds of these poor, grumbling wretches."
"That I will," cried the policeman, laying down his carbine, and following us to the bank of the river, where the sufferers were still lying, groaning with pain.