The Lonely Bushranger

- Chapter 2 -

Splashing on the puddles the bushranger sped down the road. The coat started to fall off his shoulders but he didn't care. Soon afterwards it fell off, but the bushranger kept running. He didn't stop until he was sure that he was far enough from town that no one could see him. The bushranger walked slowly down the road, soaked to the skin. He wished he had kept his coat on. He walked for another hour until he finally stopped and sat at the side of the road soaked, freezing and hungry. He sat there for a while thinking about the family in the carriage, happy, they were a happy family. This made the bushranger think of his family. No! the bushranger told himself. Don't think about your family. He felt a pang of guilt thinking that he was going to steal from that family. As he sat there staring out at the horizon. Something distracted him from his thoughts. There was a small speck of light in the distance just on top of a hill. The bushranger stood up carefully and squinted, he could just make out and outline of a house. Sudden happiness filled him as he used the remaining strength in his body to sprint across the ground and up the hill.

Breathless the bushranger had finally reached the house. He stood outside and admired it. It was iOS bit not too old. The house was a creamy colour, one storey and had a farmhouse look to it. The bushranger quietly stepped into the wooden veranda and knocked. No one answered, he knocked again more loudly, still no answer. It was odd, there were no voices coming from the house year all the candles were lit. Cautiously the bushranger tested the door handle, it swung open with ease. The bushranger stood on the doorway for a moment then he stepped in as silently as he could. Inside there was a long corridor painted the colour green, the bushranger decided to go into the first room on the left. The room he he had stepped into was obviously the lounge room. It had a massive fireplace at the end of the room and green couches that matches the paint in the corridor circled the fireplace. The bushranger noticed that the couches were not new. Some of the material was wearing off.

As the bushranger looked around the saw that most of the lounge room was like the couches. In one corner there was an old piano; it had most of its keys missing. There was a bookshelf; all of the books were tattered and mangy. The bushranger circled the room, but then became distracted by the bookshelf. There was a picture of a family, a family that was familiar to the bushranger. At first he thought it was the family in the carriage that he had seen, it was hard to distinguish the faces in the dim candle light. The bushranger thought for a moment then hesitantly picked up the picture and held it to the candle light. The bushranger squinted at it and then blew the dust off it, the dust created big, grey clouds that coated the couch with yet another layer of dust. The
bushranger froze staring at the picture in Hin hand and then dropped the picture. Not them, thought the bushranger. Why are they here?

To be continued.......