“There is where we differ in opinion, Sam Nosey,” replied Smith, quite coolly.  “I work at any kind of business where I think I can make an honest shilling, and don’t see but this expedition comes under the head of regular trade.  At the edge of the wood you will find my team and two pair of good oxen, with a bottle of brandy such as you have not tasted for many a day.”

“You mean that I would have found things as you describe, an hour or two ago; but the fact is, my men were hungry; so two of your cattle were knocked in the head, and a right jolly feed we had, I assure you.”

“I wish they had been so tough that their flesh would have choked you,” was the unsatisfactory exclamation of the stout-hearted Smith.

“Your wish is unkind, considering the favor which we intend to show you,” sneered the bushranger captain.

Smith uttered an oath, and I thought, that in spite of the number around us, he would make a push for freedom; but after glancing around and seeing that his intention was anticipated, and that the crowd had enclosed us in a circle, he gave up the idea.

“There is one prisoner missing—­where is he?” demanded the chief, abruptly.

“There’s no other to be seen,” cried half a dozen voices.

“Fools! why do you talk in that way?  The old stockman is one of the party, for I saw him not more than five minutes ago.  Bring him out of the bushes and let us see if his hair has grown any whiter since the time he shot at me for killing a lamb.  I have an account to settle with him.”

“He has made his escape, for no one is to be seen,” cried the men, after searching for a few minutes.

“It can’t be, for only a moment ago I saw him mumbling prayers and hoping that his life would be spared.  Fire the pile of brush, call in the scouts, and let me hear their report.”

As the chief spoke, a huge pile of brush was fired, which illuminated the open space and cast a bright glare upon the faces of those present.  Involuntarily, I looked at the person of the man who appeared to hold such despotic sway over his followers, and I shuddered while I gazed, for a more horrible face I never saw, except in my dreams.

His cheeks were seared until the flesh appeared livid and raw, and I expected to see blood trickle from the half-healed wounds.  His eyes were large and glaring, being entirely unprotected by eyelashes, and as for eyebrows, they seemed to be eaten away and destroyed.  The fellow’s nose, however, was the most disgusting part of his face; for the nasal organ was entirely gone, and nothing was to be seen excepting two small holes which led to the chambers of the head.

I understood the reason that he was nicknamed Nosey, without asking a question, but it was not until some days after that I learned how he came to be so badly disfigured.

Charles Bowen, alias Nosey, was sentenced to transportation for twenty-five years for appropriating about ten thousand pounds to his own use by means of a forged will.  He was a man of a good education, and withal shrewd and unscrupulous; but sharp as he was, it did not prevent his getting convicted and sentenced—­and from the time that he stepped foot on board of the transport he began his career of defying officers and all wholesome discipline.