Anderson dropped the empty pistol and advanced on Toby like a bear. He let the pair of saddlebags slide down his arm, caught them in his hand and brought them up in a backhanded swing that caught Toby in the chest. He sprawled backwards into the scrub at the edge of the riverbank and Anderson moved in for another blow.

Rolling to his feet, Toby rushed at the bigger man. They came together with a jarring thump, like a sack of wheat hitting a wagon load bed, jostling crazily as each tried to get a hold on the other. He felt hands clawing at his throat and arched his back to stay out of reach.

Somewhere in the distance someone was yelling. The others had heard the gunshots and were coming. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Paddy running towards them, musket in hand. All he had to do was hold Anderson for thirty seconds and his brother would be here to help him.

Anderson gave up trying to get at Toby’s throat and used his size and reach to envelop him in a powerful bear hug. Toby was helpless with his arms pinned to his sides and the breath being squeezed out of him. He threw his head back and slammed his forehead into Anderson’s chin as hard as he could. The bushranger cried out and staggered sideways. Toby kicked as hard as he could, landing blow after blow on Anderson’s shins, but the bushranger seemed impervious to the pain.

His head tingled as he approached the limit of consciousness. In those last few seconds he panicked and kicked downwards with all his strength, trying to push himself away from Anderson. The bushranger was unprepared for the move. He staggered a few paces with Toby in his arms, twisting back and forth in a macabre dance. The pressure on Toby’s chest relaxed a little and he bent his knees for another thrust at the ground. This time his kick found no purchase.

Anderson’s eyes were only inches from Toby’s and he saw them widen with surprise as the bushranger realised they were on the brink of the riverbank.

As he went over backwards in Anderson’s arms, Toby heard his name called by that familiar voice. In the brief moment before he hit the water, he realised it was Paddy. Then the water closed about them, muting all sound. Toby felt himself tumbling as they were swept downstream.

His shoulder brushed against something smooth and hard, the stones of the riverbed. Ice-cold water numbed his senses. One of his boots was snatched from his foot, sucked away by fast-moving water. Anderson let him go then. Toby felt the arms release him as his eyes adjusted to the murky depths of the river. A vague shadow passed in front of him as Anderson struggled for the surface, trying to drag the heavy saddlebags with him. Then all thoughts of Anderson were pushed from Toby’s mind as he fought for survival.