ho had fired at me
(why at me I cannot divine), was evidently a solitary guard perched
among the rocks. The others held on for about a quarter of an hour,
till the valley narrowed up again, just leaving room for the walk
between the brawling creek and the tall limestone cliff. But after this
it opened out into a broader amphitheatre, walled on all sides by
inaccessible rock, save in two places. Sam, from whom I get this
account of affairs, had just time to notice this when he saw Captain
Brentwood draw a pistol and fire it, and, at the same instant, a man
dashed out of some scrub on the other side of the creek, and galloped
away up the valley.

"They have had the precaution to set two watches for us, which I hardly
expected," said Captain Desborough. "They will fight us now, they can't
help it, thank God. They have had a short turn and a merry one, but
they are dead men, and they know it. The Devil is but a poor paymaster,
Buckley. After all this hide and seek work, they have only got two
days' liberty."

The troopers now went to the front with Halbert and the other military
men, while Sam, Jim, and Charles, the last all unperceived by the Major
in his excitement, rode in the rear.

"We are going to have a regular battle," said Jim. "They are bailed up,
and must fight; some of us will go home feet foremost to-day."

So they rode on through the open forest, till they began to see one or
two horsemen through the treestems, reconnoitering. The ground began to
rise towards a lofty cliff that towered before them, and all could see
that the end was coming. Then they caught sight of the whole gang,
scattered about among the low shrubs, and a few shots were fired on
both sides before the bushrangers turned and retreated towards the wall
of rock, now plainly visible through the timber. Our party continued to
advance steadily in open order.

Then under the beetling crags, where the fern-trees began to feather up
among the fallen boulders, the bushrangers turned like hunted wolves,
and stood at bay.

Chapter XLII

THE FIGHT AMONG THE FERN-TREES.

Then Desborough cried aloud to ride at them, and spare no man. And, as
he spoke, every golden fernbough, and every coigne of vantage among the
rocks, began to blaze and crackle with gun and pistol shot. Jim's horse
sprung aloft and fell, hurling him forcibly to the ground, and a tall
young trooper, dropping his carbine, rolled heavily off his saddle, and
lay on the gras