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Rh placed the revolver behind Cirkle’s ear, pulled the trigger, and down he fell stone dead. Mrs. Cirkle, hearing the report, jumped out of bed, ran into the bar, where she saw, as she thought, a drunken man on the floor, but whom she soon discovered was her husband weltering in his own blood. The bushrangers left immediately. Next day an inquest was held on the body. Poor fellow! He was a German by birth; had travelled all over America in the roughest times, and was at last shot dead in his own house, in a miserable hole like Stony Creek. The funeral took place on the 17th; the Masons attended in full force, the service being read by Grand Master Booth. A large number of Germans were present with band, flags, &c. The German flag was lowered into the grave, when his countrymen vowed vengeance on his murderers.

18th February, 1863.—Meeting held at the Empire Hotel, the object of which was to petition the Government to increase the police force in the district.

19th February.—A storekeeper named Cullen came into town to-day, stating that he knew where the murderers of Cirkle were to be found. He succeeded in getting several volunteers (Germans) to go out with him. Mr. Pearce, our worthy P.M., was hunting all over the town for horses, revolvers, guns, pistols, &c. The “German Legion” returned the following evening, bringing with them three prisoners. It so happened that none of the men they brought in were wanted.

2nd March.—News reached town this evening that an inspector of police had been carried away by the bushrangers. Another sticking-up case to-day, or, I should say, another murder. A miner named McBride was coming into town from the Ten Mile. When about a couple of miles on the road he saw two men on horseback stick-up a man a little way ahead of him. He walked on till he came within firing distance, and placing himself against a tree, he took out his revolver and commenced to fire away. The bushrangers then turned their attention to the new comer, whom, without any fuss, they shot through the thigh, and then rode off. Some men came along, made a sort of stretcher, and started to carry him to the hospital; the poor fellow died on the road. The Ten Mile above referred to, so-called from being within ten miles from Burrangong, was visited weekly by the representatives of the different banks, their chief object being the purchase of gold. I often think of the risks we ran, and how strange it was that we were never stuck-up. I attribute it to the fact that no one knew when we would be on the road, or which road we would travel, as sometimes we would go one way, sometimes another; now by the main road, another time by the bush. We were always armed, but a man does not know what he will do till he is tried. It is very well to say I would do this, I would do that. “Circumstances alter cases.” In the