"Dear me," said the man, "I declare it looks impossible: we can't do it."
"Try" observed Dodge dryly, "Dodge's is a most difficult station to get at, I can tell you. Come on," he said, as he pushed his way into the scrub, "follow me." The bailiff stumbled after Dodge, tearing his clothes and flesh at every step.
"Look out for the snakes," said Dodge, after they had been in the scrub some time, "the place swarms with 'em, and such monsters too, nine and ten feet long, and as deadly as death's own darts."
"Let us go back," said the bailiff, alarmed.
"Oh no," replied Dodge, "never say die; besides, you are to be well paid too." This reminder somewhat rallied the sinking spirits of the poor bailiff, but in a short time he evinced unquestionable signs of exhaustion. "The wild blacks have a strange partiality for this scrub," continued Dodge; "every now and then they make away with a stock-keeper for me. The last poor fellow they caught of mine was a sad case. They roasted him alive, and scraped his flesh from his bones with oyster-shells. There's fine oyster-beds in the bay," continued Dodge, carelessly.—"Are you fond of oysters?" The bailiff groaned, but made no audible reply. The scrub grew more dense. "You never fell in with bushrangers, did you? " inquired Dodge.
"No-o," stuttered the bailiff.
"This is a great place for 'em—it is supposed that their head quarters is somewhere in this scrub."
" No-o!! I won't go another step forward," said the now horror-stricken bailiff. " Let us go back." Dodge acquiesced.
One conversant with the ways of the woods would have noticed that at short intervals Dodge, with apparent carelessness, had partially broken off small twigs from the bushes he met
