CHAPTER XIII.
THE STOCKMAN AND HIS PARROT.—DARING PLOT OF A ROBBER CHIEFTAIN.
Tired with a hot, dusty ride across the prairie, we felt more like resting after the sleepless night and busy scenes through which we had passed, than commencing our journey at sundown, and so we intimated to Murden; but he was deaf to our hints, and gave his orders for getting ready regardless of them.
A hasty supper of roast lamb and hot coffee was awaiting us when we returned from the water, and while we were eating, a number of the policemen were despatched along the banks of the river to drive in Smith's cattle, while others stored his goods, which they had collected during our absence, in the hut, and returned to the stockman a correct schedule of the same.
About sundown, the oxen were yoked together and attached to the cart. The horses were saddled, and awaited their riders, and the only thing that detained us was the transfer of the bushrangers from the trees to the cart in which they were to be transported to Melbourne. The wounded men were too seriously hurt to endure the journey, and, indeed, it was doubtful whether the poor wretches would survive many days, removed, as they were, hundreds of miles from a physician's reach, and with no fit nourishment to sustain them.
Murden, when we remonstrated against the wounded men being disturbed, and given an opinion of the fatality of the act, received the news with the utmost sang froid, and expressed no particular desire that the men should live, under any circumstances; and finding that he could do nothing with them, and that they would never survive the journey to grace his triumphant entry into Melbourne, he wisely turned them over to the care of the aged convict and his daughter, both of whom promised to take care of them to the best of their ability, and in case they recovered, to hold them close prisoners until the lieutenant sent an order for their delivery.
One by one the prisoners were transferred from the trees to the cart. Desperate was their resistance, and loud were the curses which were heaped upon our heads. Manacled as they were, with heavy handcuffs around their wrists, in some instances four men were required to lift one of the villains to his place in the team, and it was no easy task at that.
The police worked with patience, and never once lost their temper, although I expected every moment that they would resort to extreme measures. To keep the robbers quiet, and prevent their committing any violence on those who rode in the team, a stout, spare chain was passed from the forward end of the cart to the back part, and fastened underneath. To this the feet of the men were secured, so that it was impossible for them to move, or commit any sudden act of violence. The method was severe, but the only safe plan, and Murden was too old a hand at rogue-taking to adopt half-way measures.
At eight o'clock we were ready for our journey. Three of the police were to ride on the cart as a means of precaution, and Fred and myself were promoted to horses. Smith resumed his old position by the side of his cattle, and after an affectionate leave-taking with the old convict and his child, we started; but, to our surprise, the hound trotted along by my side, and all words or gestures were useless in forcing him to return to his mistress.