The ashes of the burned hut were still visible, so that its location was defined without trouble, but the great question to be solved was where the treasure lay buried. To determine this we had purchased an excellent pocket compass in Melbourne, and upon taking the bearings we found that the bushrangers were exactly in a south-west direction from where the hut stood.
"Now," said the old stockman, "repeat the exact words of Gulpin, when telling you of the buried money."
"Ten paces in a south—," I replied, promptly.
"Nothing more?" he demanded.
"Not a syllable."
"Then let us set the compass and pace off the distance in a south-west line, and begin digging."
The ten paces were gravely gone through with, and I found that the grass where they terminated bore no indications of having been disturbed. I shook my head and expressed a decided opinion that no ground had been broken there for a year, at the least calculation. Fred was of my opinion, and began to have serious doubts of the truth of the story of Gulpin.
I was still hopeful, and glanced over the opening to see if I could discover signs of the earth having been recently disturbed. While I was thus occupied, Rover was scratching among the bones which were plentifully strewed around, and a sudden thought occurred to me. I consulted the compass, and was glad to find that my surmises were not contrary to the dying confession of Gulpin.
I paced off ten paces in a south-east direction, and the last step brought me exactly in the midst of the bones and ashes of the bushrangers.
I seized a spade and struck it into the ground, and was about to call my companions' attention to the spot, when a sharp report was heard near at hand, in the bushes, and a musket ball whizzed within two inches of my head.