to bind the unfortunate wretches, whom we secured with their arms
behind them, and then fastened together by strong ropes six in a line.
Our next care was to collect all the arms, which, with the exception of
a few we desired to possess, were broken and thrown on the fire.

There was very little chance of rescue; indeed, had the blacks still at
liberty made the attempt, they would to a certainty have hastened the
death of their friends. The shepherd entreated us to assist him in
bringing in the body of the hut-keeper--a task, from a sense of
humanity, we undertook, while he remained to look after his sheep.

We accordingly brought the body in on the dominie's horse and placed it
in the bunk in which the unfortunate man, a few hours before, had been
sleeping, little dreaming of the fate awaiting him. The dominie, Guy,
and I remained at the hut, while Bracewell and Hector rode off to the
head station to give information of what had occurred and to obtain a
companion for the poor man.

Finding a couple of spades in the hut, Guy and I employed our time in
burying the blacks who had been shot on the first onslaught. It was a
far from pleasant undertaking, but it was better to put them underground
before they were discovered by the dingoes or vultures, which would
before long find them out.

The day was waning and as our companions had not returned we began to
fear that we should have to spend the night in the hut. I was glad at
length when I saw the shepherd returning with the flock. He thanked us
heartily for what we had done.

When he entered the hut he seemed dreadfully upset at the sight of his
dead mate. "It is a trying life, this shepherding, gentlemen," he
observed; "with the chance of being speared or clubbed by the
blackfellows, or stuck up by a bushranger, while one has to spend day
after day without a human being to speak to, from sunrise to sunset--and
then to have one's only chum killed so suddenly! It is well-nigh more
than I can bear."

It was late at night before Bracewell and Hector came back, accompanied
by Mr Piatt, the overseer from the head station, and another man to
take the place of the murdered hut-keeper. As it was now too late to
think of proceeding on our journey that night, we turned our horses into
a spare paddock, where they could find grass enough to satisfy their
hunger until the morning.

Having stowed our baggage inside the hut, after supper we lay down,
where we could find