While George was washing Adam's hands,
and dropping tears over him like a
child, the mangled man attempted to speak,
but could not articulate a syllable; and
George gazing in distraction at him, believed
that his jaw was broken. At this instant his
ear caught the rapid tramp of a horse in
canter. He started up, and saw a man in a
broad straw hat riding along the road. He
gave a loud whoop, and was beginning to
run towards the road when the horseman
turned his steed and came quickly at his
call. A moment's glance at the scene, and
he comprehended the whole of it.

"Bushrangers!" he exclaimed. "Is your
friend alive?"

"I hope so," replied George, sadly; "but
he is awfully hurt."

"Then, there is no time to be lost. I'll
send you a surgeon; but there is an empty
cart coming along. It is mine. Stop it, and
keep it here."

Away the storekeeper—for such he was—
galloped, and soon after the cart came in
sight, and George stopped it. The man who
was with it said, looking at the wounded
surgeon, "Those infernal bushrangers again,
I see. There is a ferocious set of them
hereabouts.  Have you given your mate a little
brandy?"

Without stopping for a reply he pulled a
quart bottle from his pocket, poured a quantity
into his panikin, and George raising poor
Adam's head, the carter poured a little
between his teeth. Adam, as if the fiery
liquor choked him, gave a short cough,
opened his eyes, and again attempted to
speak.

"What is it, dear Adam? " said George,
stooping eagerly down to him. "What is it?"

"O, don't bother him yet!" said the man.
"You see he's coming about by degrees.
There's nothing like a nobbler after all,
mate. Tak' a sup yourself." With that he
poured out a full panikin and handed it to
George. George took a draught, for he was
ready to sink with excitement and exhaustion.

"Pugh, man, that's nothing, that's not a
thimbleful." George shook his head. "Well,
well, all's one," said the fellow, and draining
the panikin, added, ''And here comes the
doctor—all right!"

The doctor leaped from the saddle, threw
the reins to the carter, stooped and took the
wounded man's wrist.

"All's well, here," he said, "I suspect there
is no injury but this ugly outward bruise;
but that's bad enough. A little more water.
Let us see." He felt the lacerated nose, traced
the course of the jaw-bone, and said, "Can
you open your mouth, my friend?" Adam
opened his mouth, and spoke. "No harm to
the jaw, but there is a heavy bruise behind
the head."

The doctor drew out an instrument case,
containing scissors and adhesive plaster, and
with much care, strapped up the wounds;
the patient was laid on the cart, and a rug
thrown over him, George riding with him
to steady and support his head on the jolting
road. The doctor rode forward, telling
the carter to come to his tent.

Arrived at the doctor's tent, Adam was
soon able to explain to them the way
in which he had received his injuries.
Having his last twenty pounds in his pocket,
he was not inclined to part with it, and
prepared for a struggle with his antagonists.
But one of them just before advancing
towards George, felled him by a blow of a
gun-stock on the back of the head. Recovering
his senses, however, he found a fellow
ransacking his pockets. Instantly
grappling with him, both had a desperate struggle
on the ground, till Adam getting uppermost,
and beating the wretch well about the head,
he suddenly seized his hand in his teeth and
bit it furiously. This compelled Adam to
let go, when they both sprang up together,
and while Adam was in the act of drawing
his revolver, the bushranger seizing his gun
by the butt-end and by the barrel brought it
down across his face with all his might. He
fell senseless, and knew no more.

The following day the little blanket tent
was set up near the doctor's, who continued
to attend to the patient with the kindest
assiduity, and to send the friends supplies
from his table to this little tent. It was two
days before Adam was able to turn out, and
then with his face so swollen and patched,
that he declared with something of his old
humour, that he had forsworn looking-glasses
for ever.

As soon as Adam could be left alone
George set out to try his luck at digging.
The scene that met his eye as he drew near
to the Forest Creek was strange enough.
Twenty thousand people, at least, were all
scuffling together like ants in an ant's nest,
or tadpoles in a pool. The whole valley
through which ran the creek or brook, for
several miles was in the act of being turned
upside down. Close as the crowd could press
upon each other so as to leave the prescribed
number of feet to each party, they were
digging, delving, throwing up earth, carrying
away bags of it, supposed to contain the
gold, to the creek, and there delivering it
to other crowds who, at a long line of cradles,
were in as great a bustle, throwing in the
earth, rocking it to and fro under deluges of
water from tin dippers. There was an incessant
noise of rattling cradles, and shouting
voices. Strange figures all yellow with clay,
and disguised in bushy beards, and veils to
keep off the flies, seemed too desperately
busy to have time to breathe. It was all one
agitated scene of elbowing, swearing, hacking,
hewing, and shovelling. Not a tree was
left standing over the whole great space, and
the sun flamed down on unsheltered heaps
and holes of gravel, with a burning, sweltering
force.