At length, by help of his stirrup leather, he managed to get Charley up behind him. He never could have done it, but his mare fought, and bit, and turned when he bid her, so he threw the bridle on her neck, and could use that terrible left arm of his. Well, he came up to the hill and lifted me on, and away we went for three or four miles, but we knew the mare could not stand it long, so Dick got off and walked. When the Blacks had pulled the drays’ loads to pieces, they began to follow us, but Dick never lost heart’— ‘Nay, mate,’ interrupted Dick, ‘once I did; I shall never forget it, when I came to put my last bullet in, it was too big.’ ‘Good heavens,’ I exclaimed, ‘what did you do?’ ‘Why, I put the bullet in my mouth, and kept chawing and chawing it, and threatening the black devils all the while until at last it was small enough, and then I rammed it down, and dropped on my knee and waited until they came within twenty yards, and then I picked off Captain Jack, the biggest villain of them all.’ Here Dick, being warmed, continued the story:—‘We could not stop; we marched all evening and all night, and when the two poor creturs cried for water, as they did most of the night, as often as I could I filled my boots, and gave them to drink. I led the horse, and travelled seventy miles without halting for more than a minute or two. Toward the last they were as helpless as worn-out sheep. I tied them on. We had the luck to fall in with a party travelling just when the old mare was about giving in, and then we must all have died for want of water. Charley Anvils had eighteen wounds, but, except losing two fingers, is none the worse. Poor Jemmy, there, will never be fit for anything but a hut-keeper; as for me, I had some scratches—nothing to hurt; and the old mare lost an ear. I went back afterwards with the police, and squared accounts with the Blacks. ‘And so you see, Stranger, the old woman thinks I saved her old man’s life, although I would have done as much for any one; but I believe there are some gentlemen in Sydney think I ought to have been hung for what I did. Anyhow, since that scrimmage in the Bush, they always call me “TWO-HANDED DICK.”’ Published at the Office, No. 16, Wellington Street North, Strand. Printed by BRADBURY & EVANS, Whitefriars, London. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES ● Fixed typos; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.