Mr. Brown, and jamming it between
the saddle and the earth. "On," cried the wounded man, faintly; "save
yourselves, if possible, and leave me."

"You must have a poor opinion of Americans if you expect us to do that,"
cried Fred, with as much coolness as I ever saw him exhibit in my life.

And even while my friend was speaking, to my great admiration he
dismounted, letting his horse go wherever it desired to wander--for he
knew that no shot would be aimed at that which the bushrangers most
desired--and rushed to aid the fallen inspector.

I could do no less than follow his example, although I confess that I
considered my time as having nearly arrived, when I got off my horse,
and even when attempting to roll the dying animal from the body of the
inspector, I wondered why the deuse the bushrangers did not pick us off
without mercy. We were certainly in their power; but I afterwards
understood that five of the bushrangers were, at that particular moment,
engaged in damning the sixth, who had, by his aim, killed a horse
instead of a man. Although I don't approve of swearing, yet I must
confess that after this I must consider that there is some virtue in
oaths, for they saved not only my life, but my friend's.

Luckily for Mr. Brown, the horse died very quickly, and did not
struggle, or the body of the inspector would have been ground to powder,
and Ballarat would have required the services of another police
commissioner. We rolled the animal off, and then quickly lifted the
wounded man in our arms, and carried him for shelter under the bank,
where the villains overhead could not get sight of us.

"How fares it with you?" asked Fred, making an examination of the
injured limb.

"Bad enough," replied Mr. Brown, with a sigh. "I don't think that any
bones are broken, but the flesh is awfully bruised."

"That is true enough," answered Fred, tearing his handkerchief into
strips, and binding up the bleeding limb with as much coolness as a
professional surgeon; "the flesh is mangled, but it will heal in less
time than a broken limb, and I must congratulate you on your lucky
escape."

"Lucky escape?" repeated the inspector, bitterly; "you talk as though we
were not surrounded by six bloodthirsty scamps, who will greatly rejoice
to make a prisoner of me. Why did you not escape when my horse fell? You
could have done so."

"We grant that; yet we Americans have peculiar notions regarding some
things, and we are apt to call a