‘My God!’

Toby thought the sergeant had flushed a snake from beneath the stones, but as he moved closer, he could see what had caught McTavish off guard. A human hand protruded from beneath the pile of rocks, the hand of an Aborigine.

‘Is this a burial ground or something?’ McTavish asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Toby replied. ‘Let’s dig a little deeper and see what we find.’

They shifted more rocks from beneath the overhang. The smell of death became overpowering and brought a cloud of flies buzzing about, but they worked on in silence.

‘A young buck,’ McTavish said, once the makeshift grave had been revealed. He stepped back to where the air was a little sweeter.

‘He was shot,’ Toby said, studying the wounds.

‘But why? And look at the clothing – a strange mix of civilised and native garb. This fellow has spent some time down among the settlements.’

‘Do you suppose he was part of Anderson’s gang?’

‘Certainly looks that way to me,’ McTavish replied. ‘It would seem our friend did not want to share the proceeds from the gold robbery. There’s nothing more we can learn here, laddie. Let’s cover him back up and see what trails Barraworn has found for us.’

They piled stones back over the body and it occurred to Toby that this was hard work. ‘Anderson didn’t shoot all of his men,’ he mused aloud.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘He’s not the type to gun down a man and then take the time to cover the body so that dingos can’t get at him.’

‘I see what you mean. We may have an ally out in the bush looking to do our job for us.’

‘Maybe,’ Toby said. ‘But we must remember we are the strangers in this place. The survivor of this slaughter may not be too pleased to see us here.’

They finished covering the body and, as they moved back to the entrance, Toby found another pile of stones in a narrow crevice. ‘Another body, do you suppose?’

‘I don’t know, laddie. Let’s take a quick look.’

Once more they shifted away stones.

‘Two packsaddles,’ Toby said when they had removed enough to see what lay beneath. He clambered over rocks to untie one of the flaps and examine the contents.

‘Bloody hell!’

A gold watch on an expensive-looking chain rolled out of the pack and onto the ground. Toby thrust his hand inside and brought out several rings, a few gold sovereigns and about thirty-five pounds worth of banknotes.

‘What is it, laddie?’

Toby thrust the contents under the policeman’s nose. McTavish eyed the small fortune, his bushy eyebrows raised in surprise. Toby’s hand contained the equivalent of two years’ pay.

‘These two packsaddles are full of more of this,’ Toby said.

‘Anderson’s ill-gotten gains. Too heavy for him to haul out of here without horses.’ McTavish lifted the other flap and riffled through the contents. He tossed several leather pouches to Toby.

‘From the escort gold?’