With guns on the cock, and examining every thicket of bushes to see if it concealed an enemy, we made but slow progress. Yet trusting more to the dog than to ourselves, we at length came in sight of the scene of our former exploits. All was quiet and still in the vicinity. Not a twig moved, unless displaced by a gaudy-colored parrot, too lazy, under the withering influence of the heat, to even chatter.
The hound had bounded into the enclosure, and rushed towards a pile of branches which had been placed in the clearing since we were there. Regardless of every thing else he tore away at the wood with his teeth, and uttered fierce growls, as though he had found an enemy beneath that pile, and was determined to get at him.
We sent a man to examine the neighborhood, and then went to our four-legged friend's assistance. With angry growls the dog helped us to throw aside the branches, but long before reaching the last one, we suspected the contents of the pile. A horrible stench had for some time warned us that we were in the vicinity of carrion.
The last branch was removed, and lying in all their ghastly ugliness were Black Darnley and his crew. Darnley had greatly altered since his death; but there was no mistaking that massive mouth, filled with strong teeth, firmly set together, as though striving even with his last breath to overcome the King of Terrors.
"Are you satisfied?" we asked of Murden, turning away from the sickening sight with a shudder.
"I am," he replied. "Black Darnley has committed his last crime in this world; and the man who has caused the police of Australia to turn pale with fear is now but a home for worms."
"Let us rid the earth of his remains," cried Fred, "and not let them fester here to breed pollution in the air."
"Well said," replied we all; and after every one had satisfied his curiosity, we gathered up dry branches and leaves and heaped them upon the pile, and then set it on fire, and as the flames roared and crackled, and licked the green corpses, we took our leave of that black forest, the home of bushrangers, natives, and poisonous reptiles.
As we turned to have a last glance at the fire, we saw the hound stalking solemnly around that putrid pile, and watching as though not satisfied until every particle of his enemy had mingled with his mother earth.