should have experienced
had I found a bag of gold flung at my feet. I thanked the kind-hearted
man for his offering, and in another instant. I had poured a portion of
the contents of the canteen down the grizzly old fellow's neck.

The drink revived him. He expressed his pleasure at my kindness by a
glance from his sunken eyes that told of a warm heart, even if it beat
within the breast of a robber.

"Thank you, matey," the old man said; "but it's of little use to try and
right the hull when there's a shot between wind and water, and the
top-hamper is gone. Nevertheless, I take it in kindness."

I could not reply, for I understood enough of his nautical language to
know that he had given up all hope of living, and that the two wounds
which he had received were fatal.

I returned the canteen to its owner, and hastened to join Fred and
Murden. The fire was still working its way towards us on one side, and
receding on the other. The heat, however, had lost none of its
intensity, and every breath which we drew appeared to parch our lungs
and consume us internally.

"Have you decided what to do with the wounded men?" I asked, as I joined
my friends.

"Our first decision still holds good," replied Murden. "We cannot save
them and save ourselves."

"Hark! Do you hear that shout?" Fred said.

We listened intently for a moment, and above the roaring of flames and
crushing of trees we could hear the shouts of exultation which the
bushrangers in a distant part of the forest uttered, as they thought how
we were struggling for life.

That cry, so joyful in the thought of our misery, steeled our hearts
against the wounded wretches, who, with uplifted hands, were praying for
drink, for life, for protection.

"In, men," shouted Murden. "We can endure the heat no longer. Already do
yonder trees threaten to fall and crush us with their weight, and a
minute's delay may prove our ruin."

There was no struggling to see who should first obey the order. With
military precision the men filed in as calmly as though parading for a
drill, and in a short time no one but Murden and myself were uncovered.

"Enter," motioning to me. "I will be the last man who seeks shelter."

"But what shall we do with this poor devil?" I said, pointing to Steel
Spring, whose agonizing yells for help had often interrupted our
deliberations.

Murden made no reply, but walked towards the scamp, who redoubled his
calls for help when he thought it was