The room into which Mr. Wright conducted us was on the ground floor, and was about thirty feet deep and fifteen feet wide. Around the walls were hung skins of kangaroos, stuffed parrots, and other birds of gaudy plumage, while confined in brackets were old muskets in sufficient quantities to frighten all the natives of Australia, but their appearance, imposing as they were, would not have sufficiently impressed a bushranger of nerve into the belief that they were dangerous, even if loaded with their proper quantum of powder and lead.
We had hardly crossed the threshold of the building when a shrill voice greeted us with,—
"D——n bushrangers—d——n bushrangers—caught at last!—ha, ha!—I knew it!—I said so!—steal sheep, will you?"
We started back at such a reception, and Mr. Brown began to mutter something about "gratuitous insults," when Mr. Wright pointed to a remarkably large parrot that was roosting on the back of a chair, surveying us with quiet dignity, and evidently with considerable worldly wisdom.
Our anger vanished, and we made immediate overtures to Poll, for the purpose of establishing a firm friendship, but our advances were met with dignified coolness, while Day, who attempted to scratch the bird's head, got severely bitten for his pains.
"D——n the beast!" muttered the shepherd, rubbing his finger.
"That's right—swear! D——n it, why don't you swear? Sheep stealers! Who robs people? Ha, ha! Set the dogs on 'em!"
"A precocious parrot," said Mr. Wright, "and he is indebted for his profanity to my men, who learn him much that is bad, and little that is good, and to tell the truth, he learns the former much more readily than the latter."
"In which he closely resembles our policemen," muttered the ex-inspector.
"These gentlemen are my friends," said Mr. Wright, addressing the parrot, and formally presenting us for its distinguished consideration.
"O, friends, hey?" croaked the bird, eyeing us sharply; "why didn't you say so before? give Toll something; pretty Poll!"
We were unable to comply with the request, and the parrot didn't spare us in his denunciations for our illiberality, and to relieve us, Mr. Wright proposed that we should visit his private apartment and change our clothes, seeing that we stood in need of different raiment very much, and having none of our own at hand.
The room into which we were shown was used as a sleeping apartment and wardrobe by the proprietor of the station, and while it contained but few of the luxuries of civilized life, it was not entirely destitute of a comfortable appearance.
In one corner was a rude bedstead, with a hair mattress and blankets, a looking glass of miniature dimensions, a rifle of English pattern, heavy and cumbersome, a pair of splendid duelling pistols, a long sword with basket hilt, and a bowie knife.
"Here's where I sit and read, and sometimes write," said our host, throwing open a window to enable us the better to see his treasures; "my library is small, and I seldom make additions to it, but the few books which I have are like friends whom I can trust, old and true. Now I desire that you shall change your garments, and if you wish, take a bath before supper."
The proposition which our host made was not to be neglected, for my skin felt as though parched in an oven, and my clothes were so scorched that they were ready to fall to pieces. We did not scruple, therefore, to avail ourselves of the courtesy of Mr. Wright, and after a wash in a huge hogshead, that was used for bathing purposes, we once more found ourselves comfortable, with clean garments, and when we were dressed supper was announced.
Day, who had participated in our toils and struggles, and whom we had learned to regard with considerable affection, declined seating himself at the table with us, and all our urging did not overcome his diffidence, although backed by Mr. Wright, but, I must confess, rather feebly, and it was so evident that the farmer did not care about the company of Day that I no longer urged it.
"I saw the fire that is raging in the woods early this morning," Mr. Wright said, when he saw that our appetites were slightly checked, "and I feared that it would spread this way, and so gave orders to drive in the cattle and pen them up until all danger was passed. I was more willing to do this from the fact that my two Australians reported bushrangers in the vicinity, and that, after hovering around for a day or two, they had left for Mount Tarrengower."
While Mr. Wright was speaking, we could hear roars of laughter in the next room, which seemed to be the kitchen.
"My men are at their supper, and I suppose that your follower, whom some of my people tell me belongs at the next station, is amusing them with his wonderful adventures."
"He is as honest a fellow as ever lived, and has served us most faithfully. Without his aid we should not have escaped the fury of as savage a flock of bushrangers as ever roamed through the woods of Australia."
I spoke with some warmth, for I considered that Day deserved as good treatment as ourselves.
"I don't doubt his honesty or his bravery," returned our host, dryly, "but I am compelled to believe that if you knew how much I have to contend with here in the wilderness, hardly knowing friend from foe, and desired to treat all alike, I am sure that you would not think hard of me if I did desire to exclude the shepherd from the table. Be assured that he is happier where he is, and when another stockman visits my farm he will not be expected to sit at the same table with myself. Discipline is what keeps my men in subjection."
Another roar of laughter from the kitchen, and the servant who attended upon our table entered the apartment with a broad grin upon his face.
"Well, Jackson, something is going on in the kitchen that amuses you as well as the rest," Mr. Wright said.
"Yes, sir; that covey from the other station is telling the funniest things about his playing ghost, and frightening bushrangers into fits. He's a wild 'un, and no mistake."
A sudden darkness and pattering of rain drops outside told us that the storm had begun, and we felt thankful that we were under shelter for the night.
"Tell the men who are on duty to look well to the cattle, and then make themselves comfortable for the night," our host said, addressing the man, who seemed to be Mr. Wright's especial attendant.
The person alluded to departed on his errand, and while he was gone we surveyed the heavens from the windows, and found that the clouds were black and full of moisture, while the rain was descending in torrents.
"Let it continue this way for an hour or two, and I shall have the pleasure of your company for a day or two at least," Mr. Wright said, apparently pleased with the thought.
"Why so?" I asked.
"Because the Loddon will be impassable, and resemble no more the quiet river such as you saw to-day than to-morrow morning will resemble the present moment. But come, let us return to the table, and have our coffee and pipes; cigars I have, if you prefer them."
But no one desired them, for after once getting acclimated to pipes, cigars are of a secondary consideration.
We again took seats at the table, and lighting our pipes, sipped some of the excellent coffee at our leisure, and while the storm raged without, we talked and chatted of the past with as much freedom as though we had been friends all our lifetime.
Lights were brought, and the heavy window shutters closed, and we drew our chairs nearer to each other as the wind howled around the stout building, and the lightning played in the air with extraordinary vividness as the darkness increased.
"This storm will soon extinguish the fire in the brush," Mr. Wright said, "and I shall not be sorry to know that my wheat is no longer in danger of being consumed by fierce flames, instead of hungry men. Ah, well, I have seen many fires raging since I settled on the thousand acres that I own, but somehow I have escaped much injury, excepting once."
"Let us hear the particulars; a story will suit me above all things at this time," I said.
"There is not much of a story connected with the matter, and I'm a poor hand at a yarn, but such as it is you shall have."
He touched a bell, and his attendant entered as promptly as though serving in a first class hotel, and had been trained to the business all his lifetime.
"Is the punch ready?" asked our host.
"Yes, sir."
"Bring it in, then, and clear the table of dishes."
A bowl holding about a gallon was placed upon the table, and the fumes of the Santa Cruz rum were grateful to our nostrils. Mr. Brown rubbed his hands with glee, and was impatient to begin the attack.
"Give the men a stiff glass of grog all round, and when I want you I will ring," said Mr. Wright to the servant.
The man bowed, and left the room to make the hearts of the laborers happy by announcing the gift.
Mr. Wright filled his glass and was about to commence his story, after wetting his lips with the punch, when Jackson suddenly entered the room.
"Well?" asked Mr. Wright, with some surprise.
"Kala and Iala have returned, and desire to see you immediately, sir."
"What is the matter?" asked our host, with visible uneasiness.
"They have seen footprints in the bush, sir," was the brief rejoinder.
"The devil they have. Let them come in and report." And while Jackson was absent Mr. Wright remained in a thoughtful mood.
Jackson was absent about five minutes, when he returned, ushering in two natives of Australia, whose names were Kala and Iala. They were bareheaded, and the water was running down their necks in miniature streams, while their long, straight hair hung over their shoulders and faces, almost concealing their deep-set, large, piercing eyes, which were fixed upon us in amazement. Their legs and arms were bare, and did not look larger than those of a child, while their long, bony feet were entirely unprotected by shoes or sandals, yet they were so hardened that the tooth of a serpent would have broken in an attempt to bite through the skin.
"Well, Kala, what news?" asked Mr. Wright of the native who appeared to be the spokesman. He spoke in the language of the Australians, but as the reader is not supposed to understand it I shall interpret it, as Mr. Wright did for us.
"We have been in the bush," was the brief rejoinder.
"And what did you see?" was asked.
"We go many miles from here on the trail leading to the big village," Kala said.
"Go on."
"We see many tracks, and we followed them."
"In which direction?" demanded Mr. Wright, eagerly.
"Come this way," the native said.
"Did you see the people?" asked our host.
"How many?"
"Six," Kala answered, holding up one of his fingers.
"Bushrangers?" our host continued.
At this question the two natives seemed puzzled, and they looked at each other as though wondering what answer they should return.
"Two of them were not men," at length the native said.
"Boys?" suggested Mr. Wright.
The faintest shadow of a smile stole over their faces as Kala replied,—
"No boys. Wear things like shirt round legs, and funny hats on heads."
"Why, darn it, the rascals mean women," cried our host, with some energy and considerable relief.
"Yes," was the prompt reply of Kala.
"They won't hurt you, man, unless they happen to fall in love with your black skin and marry you. Then I'd not be responsible for your head."
"Men have long guns, and little guns in belts," continued Kala.
"Pooh!" said Mr. Wright, turning to us and refilling our glasses, "the poor fellows have got frightened at their shadows. They have seen a small party of miners on their way to Ballarat, and it's probable that they have missed the direct road and got on one of the numerous trails which sometimes puzzle the best stockmen. They will find their way out after a fashion, although this is rather a hard night for exposing females. You can go," he said, addressing the two natives, but the men still lingered as though not satisfied with their visit.
"Miners no kill children," Kala exclaimed, briefly.
"How? Who has killed children?" demanded Mr. Wright, setting his glass upon the table, its contents untouched.
Mr. Brown pricked up his ears and listened, for he had a slight knowledge, of the aboriginal language, and understood a portion of the conversation.
"Men take child and throw against a tree. No cry more," Kala said.
"The brutes!" muttered Mr. Wright, struck with consternation at the atrocity of the deed.
"Four men, two women," continued Kala, holding up his fingers for us to count. "All come this way, and seem in a hurry. Women cry, and men swear; men make them ride on horses to go fast."
"This is news indeed," Mr. Wright said, turning to us, "and I hardly know what to make of it. Can you solve the riddle?" addressing Mr. Brown.
"It is plain," my friend rejoined. "A party of miners have been attacked by the bushrangers, and the latter are now endeavoring to escape with two women prisoners. The fellows probably belong to Tyrell's gang, and will make towards Mount Tarrengower to join him."
The solution seemed probable, and for a few moments there was a profound silence. The natives glanced from face to face as though endeavoring to read the thoughts of the white men, although they did not appear much distressed at the events which they had related.
"I pity the poor women," remarked Mr. Wright, at length. "Their fate will be a sad one, and death a welcome release from their sufferings."
"Can't you make an effort for their release?" I asked, but our host shook his head.
"The night is dark and stormy," he said, "and it's impossible to tell where the party, is at the present time. To-morrow we may be able to do something."
"To-morrow will be too late," replied Mr. Brown. "The rogues by that time will have joined the main body of the gang, and will laugh at our efforts to dislodge them from their rendezvous on the mountains."
Still our host did not seem impressed with the idea that we could afford the unfortunate females relief, although I judged that his disposition to do so was strong.
"Ask Kala if he thinks that he can find the fellow's trail to-night, and promise him from me a pound of tobacco and a bottle of rum if he succeeds," Mr. Brown said, addressing Mr. Wright.
The message was conveyed to the natives, and Kala's eyes sparkled at the idea of gaining the promised luxuries, but Iala did not seem so enthusiastic, owing to his name not being mentioned in connection with the presents.
"Tell Iala from me," I exclaimed, "that he, too, shall have a pound of tobacco and a bottle of rum like his brother if he succeeds."
The look of displeasure disappeared from the dark face of the native as he heard the offer, and he displayed his sharp, white teeth in token of approval.
"The men go by the old trail through the forest. They will not trust the new road leading to the house for fear of meeting our people. The trail is much longer, but safer. After they get through the woods they will have to cross a mud creek. The horses will refuse to enter the water, and considerable time will elapse before they can be got across. If we can meet them at the creek there is no escape for them."
Such were the expressions of Kala, uttered slow and distinct, as though he was weighing each word, and knew the importance of good counsel. We had not much time to consider the matter, for the native informed us that he and his brother had run with all their speed to the house, after once making sure that the bushrangers intended to take the trail instead of the road.
"Well, gentlemen, what is your opinion on the subject? Shall we sally forth, like knights-errant of old, and rescue the women from the clutches of the devils, or shall we sit here and finish our punch, and then go to bed? I am ready to hear a few words on both sides of the question, but no long arguments."
Our host meant work; I could see that by his flashing gray eyes.
"Can't we drink the punch after we return?" asked Mr. Brown.
"Ay, and as much more as you wish," promptly responded our host, rising from the table, an example that we were not slow to follow.
Jackson, who had remained waiting in the room during the interview, now stepped forward, as though aware that his services would be required by his master.
"Bring me my pistols, and oil-cloth coat and cap, and be in a hurry," were the only commands that Mr. Wright issued, and Jackson, who knew the man's impulses, did not delay an instant in executing the order, and with the articles named he brought coats and water-proof hats for us, while to our surprise, he placed upon the table the revolvers belonging to Mr. Brown and myself, cleaned, oiled, and loaded.
"I supposed that you would want them in good condition when you left the farm, so while you were at supper I took the liberty of attending to them," Jackson said, in an apologetic tone, as though fearful that he had exceeded instructions.
"You are deserving of a pardon, and hang me if I don't get you one before six months are passed," cried my friend, enthusiastically, after a slight examination of his weapon, which showed him that it was loaded correctly and capped with great nicety.
The poor fellow started with surprise, and his face flushed with agitation. I saw him turn away, as though ashamed to display his weakness.
"There is no such joyful news for me, sir," he said, at length, in as firm a voice as he could command.
"Don't you believe that story," cried Mr. Brown, heartily. "Plenty of men have received pardons, and they didn't deserve them as much as you. My word for that."
"Bushrangers get there before us," muttered the natives.
"Kala is right. We must be under way, or the fellows will slip through our fingers. One drink all round, and here's success to our expedition."
While I was fitting my head gear the door opened, and in walked Day, his eyes glistening as though he had drank a cup too much of Mr. Wright's strong water.
"No, you don't," he said, surveying us from head to foot; "if you think that you can get off without the best ghost that the country can produce you are mistaken. You can count me in." "Then hurry and get ready," I exclaimed, "for we have not a moment to lose."
"Ready?" asked the shepherd, "ain't I all reedy as I am? I don't want your ile-skins to keep off a little wet. I'm used to it. Lead the way, blackies, and I'll keep close to your heels."
"But you have no weapons," Mr. Wright said.
"Ain't I got 'em? Look here!" and to my surprise, he produced from the bosom of his flannel shirt a large pair of horse pistols, which he had borrowed from one of the farm hands.
"You'll do; go ahead," our host said. And as we sallied into the entry we saw that all the laborers were drawn up in a line, as though to take formal leave of us.
"Please, sir, let me go wid you," I heard the familiar voice of the Irishman, who greeted me on my arrival, say.
"And me," cried a dozen voices, in the same breath.
"I don't want you all, but Mike may go," was the brief reply.
"Glory to God! we'll lick thunder out of all the bloody bushrangers that iver dared to show their homely faces this side of the Loddon. I'm off;" and Mike, who feared that the order for his going would be revoked, snatched a long spear that stood in the entry, and rushed out of the house hatless and shoeless, and full of fight.
"Take good care of the house, Jackson," Mr. Wright said, addressing his servant, who stood near him.
"You don't wish me to accompany you, sir?" he asked.
"No, no. Stay here and take care of the house, and mind that you defend it against all odds, in case of an attack."
"Bushrangers move quick," muttered Kala.
"I'm coming. Now, gentlemen, we will try the speed of your limbs;" and out of the house we sallied, and stood in the driving storm for a few minutes, completely blinded by the sudden transition from light to pitchy darkness.
"Follow Kala," muttered the native; but the request was an impossibility, because Kala was invisible even a foot from where we stood.
"Give the strangers your arms, and lead them until their eyes get accustomed to the darkness," Mr. Wright said, addressing the natives.
"That is a good arrangement for us, but how are you to find the way?" cried Mr. Brown.
"We know every foot of land within a circle of five miles," was the prompt response of our host; and to show that he made no idle boast, he started towards the field of wheat which we had noticed early in the afternoon, while we followed close at his heels as best we could, much to the disgust of the natives, I have no doubt, for they could scarcely restrain their impatience at the slowness of our pace.
The dogs saluted us with a mighty howl as we passed them, but a word from their master quieted their valor, and by the time we had got clear of the cattle pens our eyes were sufficiently accustomed to the darkness, and were enabled to dispense with the guidance of Kala and Iala, who gladly got at the head of the column and led the way towards the creek, which it was stated the bushrangers would have to pass.
"Under this tree," said our host, pointing to a gum tree of gigantic proportions, "I killed one of the largest diamond snakes that I ever saw in the country. There used to be a nest of them near this place, but I think that they are exterminated by this time. You recollect the snake, do you not?" he continued, addressing the natives in their dialect.
"We remember," was the brief reply.
"Couldn't you conveniently change the conversation?" Mr. Brown asked, and I shared his interest in the matter, for I didn't like the topic in so dark a night.
"Pooh! you ain't afraid of snakes, are you?" Mr. Wright asked, in a tone that implied that he was not.
"Well, I don't care if I confess that I have seen more agreeable sights than a d——n big, black snake, with a mouth large enough to swallow a baby without much trouble. I don't wish to be rigid, but it strikes me that I prefer daylight when the conversation is tending towards such cheerful topics."
I could see that Mr. Brown was intently engaged in scanning the ground while speaking, as though he feared there might be a few of the varmints unkilled from the nest spoken of.
"About a mile further, gentlemen," and we felt thankful for the information, for a more disagreeable night's tramp, so far, I had never experienced. Still, the thoughts of the two suffering women enabled me to keep my spirits up, and to press forward with eagerness to the point at which we expected to relieve them.
There was no cessation to the rain, and the lightning was as vivid as ever, but the thunder was rolling away to the southward, and muttering and growling as though sorry at having relinquished the battle without more of a struggle.
"If I was only as wet within as I'm without, it's in fighting trim I'd be," Mike said, addressing the shepherd, who was tugging along with the most stoical indifference as to the fulling rain and bad road.
"I can fight, wet or dry," was the answer.
"And can't I do the same?" asked Mike, inclined to take umbrage at the remark.
"Show me a thing that an Irishman can't do as well as an Englishman," cried Mike.
"Can you play the ghost like me?" demanded the shepherd.
"And why not?"
"Because, who ever heard of a ghost speaking with the brogue?" asked the stockman, triumphantly.
"Bedad, I didn't think of that," Mike muttered, completely crushed by this new evidence of his companion's superiority.
"If you two grumblers don't stop your wrangling I'll choke you," Mr. Wright exclaimed, angrily.
"I'm dumb," Mike said.
"I'm silent as a corpse," cried the undertaker.
"I'll spake no more this night," continued Mike.
"See that you don't," answered our host.
"Divil a bit, till I see a bushranger, and then I'll give him a taste of my spear."
"That you may do, and you shall have a glass of grog for every one that you kill," answered Mr. Wright.
"Holy St. Patrick! you don't say so. Don't any one go near 'em but me. I'll fight the thaves and vagabonds every one, single handed and alone, like a Killarney man that I am."
For twenty minutes we continued on our course, expecting to strike the creek every moment,—yet the night was so dark that it was impossible to tell whether we were on the trail, or wading over the pasturage of the farm.
Even Kala was at fault, and glanced towards the trees, and examined them to discover if we were in the proper locality, but apparently without much success, and I began to think that our expedition was a failure, when the native uttered a grunt.
"Well, Kala, what now?" asked Mr. Wright
"There be creek," he said, and by the aid of a flash of lightning we could see his thin black arm pointing to a line of trees on our right.
"And the trail?" suggested our host.
"We reach it by and by. Come now, and don't talk."
We followed the native, with the renewed hope of soon terminating an adventure, and as we gained the edge of the gum trees, which were convincing proof that we were near the water, the Australians bent themselves to the task of finding the trail, or the place where the bushrangers were expected to ford. On their hands and knees they crawled about from place to place, aided occasionally by a flash of lightning, but still they were unsuccessful, though not discouraged. Their natures were too patient for that.
"To the devil with the trail," muttered Mike, hitting one of the prostrate natives with his spear. "Let's find the brook, and then we'll be all right, shan't we? Find the main thing first, and then toiler up the little ones, used to be the advice of me father, God rest his soul, and keep him well supplied wid whiskey in the nixt world! Ah, what man he was to be sure! You knew him, sir?" continued Mike, addressing Mr. Wright, who was awaiting the result of the Australians with exemplary patience, considering that the rain was falling in torrents.
"Be quiet," said our host, "or if you must do something go and see how near we are to the creek, and don't make a noise."
"I'll do that same," muttered Mike, "but it's the opinion of a man who knows more than a dozen nagers, that the creek is a mile from here in the udder direction."
He went on his mission, grumbling at the supposition that the creek was near us, when suddenly we heard a loud splash, and Mike's voice raised in supplication.
"That d——d Irishman has tumbled into the creek," cried Mr. Wright, endeavoring to suppress a laugh that did find utterance.
"Here's the river, sure!" shouted Mike, "and a cussed mane one it is. Help me out!"
"Be quiet," said Mr. Wright, "or you'll alarm the bushrangers."
"And do you intend that I shall strangle myself for the purpose of letting the blackguards git kilt?" remonstrated the Hibernian; "I've swallowed a gallon of the dirty water already, and it's cowld on my stomach. Help me out, will ye?"
We reached the scene of the Irishman's disaster, and were compelled to wait for a flash of lightning for the purpose of seeing his situation. When the flash did reveal his position, we saw that he was clinging to some rocks most tenaciously, while the boiling waters were bubbling over his head, which he made no attempt to raise beyond the reach of danger.
"Crawl up the bank, you loon!" cried Mr. Wright, but the advice was unheeded.
"Save me!" yelled Mike; "I can't swim and I'm filled with the bloody dust, that weighs me down like lead. A thousand dollars to the man who gives me his hand first."
"Well, give me the thousand dollars, and I'll help you out," Mr. Wright said, facetiously.
"Ah, master dear, won't you take my word for the money, or wait till I arn it?"
"Just as I always thought," grumbled our host; "an Irishman will promise any thing in distress, even while he knows that he has no means of performing his engagements."
"But isn't it better to do so, master dear, than to make no promises and die?" asked the Irishman, and I rather thought that he had him on that question.
"Perhaps you are right," our host answered, and extending his hand, he helped Mike to terra firma, and landed him just as Kala informed us that the ford was ten or twelve rods down the stream.
Mike recovered his spear, and we once more started, under the guidance of the natives, and quickly gained the spot that we had spent so much time in searching for.
The ford had been used but seldom, and resembled the rest of the creek, with the exception that the bushes and underbrush had been cut from the banks of the stream, so that horses, and other cattle, after fording, could gain the plain without trouble.
Kala threw himself upon his hands and knees, and carefully examined, by the lightning flashes, the various footprints which marked the spot, and which the heavy rain had failed to wash away.
"Well, Kala," Mr. Wright said, impatiently.
"No come yet," answered the native, quietly.
"Are you sure of that?" our host asked.
"I might have known that, if I had only given the subject a thought, muttered our host.
"Well, what are we to do?" asked Mr. Brown, gathering his oil-cloth around his person, and evidently thinking of the punch, and a good night's rest; "are we to stay here until daylight, and watch for a party of men who may be upon the summit of Mount Tarrengower at the present time? I wouldn't object to waiting, but I don't like the idea of sitting here and doing nothing, while the rain is endeavoring to obtain a nearer acquaintance with my neck and bosom."
"I don't see any other course," Mr. Wright replied; "it's evident that the devils have not crossed the creek, and can't to-night, but the streams of Australia subside rapidly, and the instant the rain ceases to fall they will attempt to ford. We must stay here and watch for the scamps. Remember the female prisoners."
"It's all very well to say remember the females, but if I ruin my health who is to remember me, and take care of me?" grumbled Mr. Brown.
"I will," promptly responded our host.
"Then I suppose that I must stay here all night, and make a fool of myself by running my head into danger, as I have done fifty times before, and get no thanks for it—hullo! what was that?"
Before Mr. Brown spoke, Kala had glided to the side of Mr. Wright, and called his attention, in a quiet manner, to a crashing of brunches that he had heard on the other side of the river. Our host was too busy listening to the ravings of Mr. Brown to pay attention to him at that moment, and the native knew the disposition of his master too well to be imperative, so Kala didn't have the honor of alarming our squad, or calling attention to what was going on on the other side.
In an instant after Mr. Brown's exclamation, there was a breathless silence, and not a man moved to the right or left.
"They come," whispered Kala.
He was correct in his supposition, for in a few minutes we could hear the party we were in pursuit of halt at the edge of the brook, opposite to us, and discuss the prospect of attempting to ford, high as the water was.
We quietly retreated behind trees and bushes, so that the lightning should not reveal our presence to the enemy, but we were no sooner secreted than we were rewarded by getting a view of the four bushrangers, who were holding horses, on which were mounted the two females, whose capture had so excited our sympathy.
"D——n it, Bill," I heard one of the fellows exclaim, for the creek was not more than four yards across, "didn't I tell you that we couldn't ford here to-night with the hosses? If we had come the other way twould been all right."
"Yes, and run our heads flat agin that d——d Wright, who is always on the lookout, with his tribe of cussed Irishmen, ready to fight or drink bad whiskey," grumbled the man whom they had called Bill.
"Do ye hear him reflecting on me country?" whispered Mike, grasping his long spear, as though he would like to encounter the libellers of his countrymen without a moment's delay.
"Be quiet," ordered Mr. Wright, "and let us hear what the villains talk about."
"If it hadn't been for these 'ere wimin, we might have been out of this fix," cried the first speaker, still grumbling.
"Well, what could we do with 'em, 'cept bring 'em along?" asked Bill.
"Do with em?" cried the ruffian, with a bitter oath, "why, draw our knives across their throats, and let 'em run. That's the way to clear out prisoners. Women have no business with the gang. There's always a quarrel about 'em."
"And 'spose there is? ain't it a compliment to the dear creatures? I'd rather fight for 'em, I tell you, than not see their faces after they get good natured, and the cap'n generally brings 'em round in a precious short time."
"Eh, don't he?" grunted the third man, speaking for the first time.
"I tell ye my plan is best, and it's time ye knowed it. We carry half a dozen into camp to eat up the grub, and make the men lazy. There's no getting work out of the coveys while they is alive, and you know it."
"For pity's sake kill us, and end our misery," I heard one of the females say, appealing to the fellow who seemed in favor of killing prisoners, to save the trouble of taking care of them.
"If I had my way, I'd do it d——d quick," he grumbled.
"We are tired, and can hardly sit on the horses. For the sake of your mothers, who were women, leave us here in the wilderness to perish, or to find shelter, as it shall please Heaven."
"Cease that whine of yours, or I'll throw you into the creek," threatened the ruffian of the party.
"Do so, if you dare!" exclaimed another voice, which I imagined belonged to a female of more advanced age than the first speaker; "you are ugly enough for any thing," she continued, growing excited as she proceeded, and raising her voice until it approached a scream, "but I don't believe that you have the true courage of a man. A man!" she repeated, "you are nothing but a tailor. Where's your goose?"
I could hear the bushrangers indulge in a chuckling laugh, as though the language used to their companion was relished.
"Stop your mouth, you dirty ——, or I'll stuff a goose down your throat!" shouted the ruffian, furious with rage.
"You?" she asked, contemptuously; "why, if my old man was within sound of my voice, you would run like a sheep from a dog. You are the biggest coward connected with the gang, and they only keep you 'cos you can mend their clothes. A tailor! Bah, you are only the ninth part of a man, and a botch at that."
"By G——d, woman, you shall feel the length of my knife if you don't close your mouth," shouted the ruffian, that the woman was goring to madness.
"O Nancy, do be quiet," cried her companion.
"Keep quiet for the threat of that braggart?" the shrill-voiced woman demanded; "why, if I had a bodkin I'd spit him on it." "Would you?" cried the bushranger; "then I'll give you a taste of the same sort of stuff!"
We heard a struggle for a few seconds, and then the earnest tones of the most liberal ruffian in remonstrance.
"Put up your knife, you fool, and don't let a woman get the better of you. Don't you see that she's trying to provoke you to kill her."
"And I will do it, too," yelled the brute.
"No you won't, not as long as I've got charge of this squad. I ain't going to do all the work, and then let you act as you please, by a d——n sight. Touch that woman, and I'll make a hole in your side big enough to throw in a Bible. Put up your knife, and let us see if we can't cross the creek before daylight."
"Well, don't let her insult me again, that's all," the fellow said, in reply to the threat, although it seemed that he was prepared to obey the order, much as he disliked it.
"Insult you! you miserable specimen of a fool? why, it would be impossible to insult you, for your life is but an insult to your Maker!" cried the shrill-voiced woman, who had been addressed by the name of Nancy.
"I'd like to hire that woman to do my scolding," whispered Mr. Wright. "Lord, how she would make the men fly if they didn't come to dinner at the exact time."
By a flash of lightning we could see three of the bushrangers examining the banks of the creek, for the purpose of judging whether it could be forded by the horses or not.
They seemed to decide against its feasibility, for we heard them grumbling at the idea of stopping there all night, and getting sighted by "d——d old Wright" in the morning.
Our host listened to the complimentary remarks about himself with great glee, for it showed that he was a power that was respected by the robbing fraternity, and that they took good care to visit his range of land as little us possible.
"Are we to stay here in the wet all night?" grumbled Mr. Brown.
"I don't see how we are to avoid it," Mr. Wright replied.
"Let us cross the creek, and take those fellows in the rear," I whispered; "in half an hour we can have every one of them prisoners, or else hors du combat."
Mr. Wright didn't like the project, as he thought that it was running too great a risk. Mr. Brown meditated on the undertaking, while the ghost was pleased with the idea, and vowed that he could accomplish the project alone. As for Mike, he was in ecstasies at the plan, only he couldn't swim, which somewhat damped his ardor.
"Ask Kala if there is a place where we can cross, where the water is not over our heads?" I inquired of Mr. Wright.
He put the question, and the native replied that a few rods down the stream, at a bend, we could cross on a bar, where the water would not be more than up to our armpits.
Mr. Wright no longer hesitated, but gave the order to move down the stream to the place proposed, and as the rain had nearly ceased, and the moon was high in the heavens, we had no difficulty in finding the spot which Kala indicated.
Our only trouble was to prevent the bushrangers from seeing our movements, so that they should not be prepared for our reception. This we were enabled to do by keeping within the shade of the bushes and trees, which grew in profusion upon the banks of the stream.
"Lead the way. Mike, and find out the deep places with your spear," commanded Mr. Wright, but the Irishman held back.
"I couldn't think of taking advantage of my betters, and going before 'em," pleaded Mike.
"Are you afraid?" our host demanded, angrily.
"Divil a bit, master; but it's misgivings I have about the water. What it was made for, 'cept to mix with punch, I don't see."
"Kala go first," muttered the native, and without waiting for orders, he dropped quietly into the stream, followed by Iala.
"The divil! but can't I go where the nager does?" demanded Mike, and he was up to his shoulders in the brook before we could answer him.
The ghost followed Mike, and then the rest of us, leaving our oil-cloth coverings on the bank of the stream, crossed without difficulty, taking good care that our revolvers were kept dry.
"Now, I want all to keep silent, and obey my orders," whispered Mr. Wright; "when I give the word to fire, do so, but not before.
"Now then, let us steal forward as fast as possible, and Kala, you and Iala can remain behind, if you please."
"Kala and Iala will go with you," was the prompt reply, and I marvelled at it, for the natives are dreadfully afraid of firearms when in the the hands of white men.
"Now, gentlemen, let us onward, and may the God of battles give us success. If any accident should befall either of us, we shall have the satisfaction of knowing that we suffered in a good cause. Be careful how you step, and don't be impatient."
Mr. Wright placed himself at the head of the column, and moved along carefully, and with some considerable knowledge of woodcraft, although I almost lost all patience by his continually stopping and listening, as though that part of the performance was really necessary to insure success.
The rain had now entirely ceased, and the black clouds overhead had parted, and showed light fleecy ones, tinged by the rays of the moon, which was struggling to show its face, as though angry at having been hid from the earth for such a length of time.
This circumstance required our movements to be prompt if we wished to surprise the ruffians, but Mr. Wright was not a man to be hurried by such trifles. He had a peculiar idea of how such matters should be conducted, and neither Mr. Brown nor myself were disposed to interfere with his plans.
Suddenly, when within twenty rods of the place where the bushrangers were camped we saw a light, and for a few minutes Mr. Wright was uncertain whether to advance or retreat, thinking that the light was intended as an ambush to draw us under fire.
In vain I explained that the bushrangers had kindled a fire for the purpose of cooking a sheep, or a portion of one, and Mr. Brown entertained the same idea, but Mr. Wright said we were young men, and rash at that, and that we were not to be trusted.
We were more amazed than indignant, knowing that our host regarded our safety more than his own, for he was as brave as a lion, and would have willingly fought the whole gang had it been necessary to prove his courage.
At length I volunteered to act the part of a scout, and investigate matters, but for a long time Mr. Wright would not listen to my advances, until I saw that there was a prospect of our remaining on the ground all night, and then I tore myself away, and requested my friends to remain quiet until my return.
This they promised to do, and I started on my mission, not a dangerous one, as I knew full well, for the ruffians did not suspect the presence of our force, and I felt certain that they had no sentinels posted.
The result justified my expectations, for when I had crawled as noiselessly as a cat to within a rod of the light, I saw that the robbers had in some way managed to kindle a fire, which, by the way, attracted myriads of flies and mosquitoes, and they were biting as only Australian flies and mosquitoes know how to bite, much to the rage of the bushrangers, who were cooking meat, and endeavoring to beat off the cloud of insects by threshing their heavy hands about their heads, and uttering oaths that were frightfully original and emphatic.
They were coarse-looking fellows, but dressed better than bushrangers usually were, and I accounted for it by supposing that they had made a successful plundering expedition, and got new suits from their victims; and such I afterwards found to be the case.
I endeavored to get a view of the faces of the women, and by changing my position I succeeded. The youngest one was not more than twenty-five years of age, but she looked careworn and weary, and seldom removed her hands from her face, except, to answer a question addressed to her by her companion, who seemed about forty years of age, and by the flickering light of the fire I read determination upon every line of her countenance, weather-beaten and grim as it was.
The bushrangers were broiling their meat upon sticks, and eating it with a relish that smacked of a long fast; and while the women were seated near the fire on saddles taken from the horses, which were tied to a tree, and were browsing upon the tender branches, the men did not offer them food, until one fellow, whose appetite seemed sated, offered the younger one his stick, upon which was a huge lump of flesh nearly raw.
She declined the tempting morsel with a shudder, and the action produced an oath from the ruffian, and an insulting gesture, so vile that I could hardly keep my hand from seeking the lock of my revolver and shooting him on the spot.
"O, well, Miss Dainty, you'll come to your appetite one of these days, see if you don't. Mark what I tell you;" and the other ruffians smiled at their companion's wit.
"There's blood on the hand that offered her food—her husband's blood. How do you suppose she can touch what you feel disposed to give?" cried the elderly woman, who was called Nancy.
"Hullo, old croaker, I thought that you were asleep," the bushranger said; but still I noticed that he glanced at his hand, and wiped it on his clothes, as though the stain was burning his flesh like a coal of fire.
"I've not been asleep, but still I've had a dream," Nancy replied to the insulting taunt of the robber.
"Hullo, here's a go. An old woman can dream with her eyes open. Tell us what it was all about, old Tabby."
The woman looked sternly at her tormentor, but did not deign to reply; but the robbers were not disposed to have her rest in peace.
"Come, Tabby, tell us the dream," cried the first speaker.
"You would know it, would you?" she asked, her dark face looking grim and sardonic in the wavering light of the fire, which was kept up by throwing on wood that had long laid exposed to the hot sun of Australia.
"To be sure I would; and, while you are about it, tell my fortune. Whether I shall be rich and marry a princess, like them old fellers, hundreds of years ago, that we read about in some book, blast me if I know the name of it. Come, fire away while I smoke my pipe, and try to kill a few of these d——d mosquitoes that have got bills longer than a criminal lawyer in full practice in Old Bailey."
The man filled his pipe with tobacco, an example that was followed by those who had finished gorging, and after he had lighted it, he turned his head in the direction of the prisoners, as though signifying that he was ready to listen.
"The only wife that you will marry will be the gibbet," the old woman said, spitefully.
"Peace, you old hag," cried the bushranger, angrily. "How dare you talk to me in that sort of way?"
"I thought that you wanted to hear what I have been dreaming about?" she replied, with a sneer.
"So I do, but don't you mention gibbets, do you hear, 'cos you might provoke me, and then you would dangle from one of these trees, a scarecrow that would cause old Wright much wonder. Now you go ahead."
"I dreamed that I was in a crowd of excited people, who were walking towards a prison where they said an execution was to take place. I went with them, for I felt that I had received so many injuries at the hands of men that it would be joy to my wounded heart to see them suffer. I struggled until I reached the front ranks of the crowd, and then waited patiently until a procession, headed by soldiers with solemn music, left the prison and marched towards the scaffold."
"Didn't I tell you not to talk about such things?" cried the bushranger, fiercely.
"Then I will not;" and the woman remained silent.
"Let her go on with the yarn," the other robbers exclaimed. "Let her tell what she likes about hanging coveys, if she pleases. Fire away, old woman."
Thus commanded, she resumed the subject of her pretended dream.
"I thought that I saw three prisoners, with faces covered with black crape, march with trembling steps towards the scaffold, while the hangman, who walked beside them, continually shouted, with a voice so loud that it was heard by every one, 'Behold, these men are about to be executed for murder and robbery. Don't pray for them, Christians, for your prayers will be in vain. They are denounced by God and man, and hell alone knows how to punish them as their many crimes deserve.'"
"You old she devil, can't you tell us something more lively than that?" demanded one of the bushrangers, glancing around uneasily.
"The best is yet to come," she replied, calmly, her eyes fixed upon vacancy, as though she really saw the scenes she was narrating.
"Well, let's have the rest, and don't be too hard on bushrangers, if it's all the same to you."
"I saw the procession reach the scaffold, and the three condemned men ascend the steps, although they trembled so that they had to be supported by the soldiers, for, though they could kill and rob, they were cowards at heart, and were to die like dogs."
"They should have given the coveys a pint of brandy each, and then they would have been all right," grunted the fellow whom the bushranger called Bill.
"A prayer was made by the clergyman," continued Nancy, not heeding the interruption, "and then the men were informed they could say any thing if they wished. The crape was removed from their faces, and I saw—"
"Who?" exclaimed the listeners, eagerly.
"Your face, and yours, and yours," she cried, pointing to three of the men, who sprang to their feet with frightful oaths, and murder in their hearts.
"Let's hang her," cried one.
"Burn her for a witch," said another.
"D——m her," cried the third; while the fourth, who seemed to be much pleased that he was left out of the galaxy of rascality, remained silent and thoughtful.
"Don't harm her," exclaimed the younger woman, removing her hands from her face, and endeavoring to shelter the person of her companion; but the bushrangers were regardless of her entreaties, and pushed her aside with rudeness.
I did not stop to see more. I rapidly made my way back to Mr. Wright and party, who were anxiously expecting me, for they had begun to grow alarmed at my absence.
"Not a moment is to be lost," I said. "Follow me, and make no noise."
"What is up?" demanded Mr. Wright, who perhaps did not like to have his command usurped so rudely, although he did not object.
"I cannot stop to explain now. Haste, or there will be murder committed," I replied.
No more questions were asked, and in less than five minutes after we were in motion we were near enough to the bushrangers to witness their operations. They were holding a council, and debating violently what sort of death poor Nancy should die, but could not agree. They supposed her words were deserving of instant punishment, and each man thought his method of taking her life the more praiseworthy. The discussion saved Nancy, for we were enabled to reach the spot before the fellows could make up their minds.
Even in that dreadful moment the tongue of Nancy did not lose its bitterness, and she was bold enough to boast that her words would come true, and them what she had told as a vision would prove a reality.
"Now, then, men, rush on, but don't use your pistols unless necessary. Let us make them prisoners," whispered Mr. Wright.
We answered back that we were ready, and dashed forward just as the ruffians had decided that to hang the woman would be a more pleasant spectacle than to burn her.
"Hurrah for Ireland," shouted Mike, springing into the clearing where the enemy were encamped.
The bushrangers were so taken by surprise that they had no chance to gain possession of their weapons, or to beat a retreat. One fellow, when he saw us emerge from the bushes, drew his knife and struck at Mike; but it was the last blow that he ever made, for the enraged Irishman shortened his spear, so that he could use it to more advantage, and then drove it through the body of his opponent, and from the squirming wretch's back protruded the barbed point. The fellow threw his arms wildly over his head, and fell to the ground, and with his last breath cursed his slayer and the whole of mankind.
There was not much for us to do, although every man present, including the two natives, performed the limited part assigned with fidelity and despatch.
The ghost, whose true English instincts would not allow him to be outdone by Mike, made the welkin ring with shouts for England and himself at the grand charge, and then had deliberately knocked down the most burly of the robbers, and placed his foot upon his breast, and hold him there until the melee was ended.
Of course, the other robbers were easily disposed of, for we were two to one; but even after we had them securely pinioned, they taunted us with cowardice, and dared us to meet them in open fight, where they could stand some chance for their lives. Their complaints were unheeded, although Mike and the ghost both expressed a wish to meet two of the men, and give them fair play, according to the well-known rules of the prize ring of London, of which institution the shepherd professed to have vast admiration. The idea was not to be thought of, and the two champions were discontented.
The women had remained spectators of the scene without offering to escape, for they knew into whatever hands they fell they could not be treated much worse than they had been, and just at the moment we made our appearance a change was quite desirable.
I thought that once I heard the shrill voice of Nancy raised in thanksgiving to the Lord for the rescue, and the death of the bushranger, but was so busy at the moment that I did not pay much attention.
"Ladies," said Mr. Wright, "we have rescued you from your unpleasant company, and I shall take great pleasure in offering you a portion of my house until you can make arrangements to join your friends. My name is Wright, and I reside but a short distance from this fording place."
"I told you we should meet with some of old Wright's folks," grumbled Bill, who was extended upon the ground, his hands secured behind his back.
"Yes, you scamp, I am 'old Wright,' as you termed me, and believe me, I never felt prouder of the name than at this moment, when I have helped rescue the women from your clutches, and feel that there is a chance of seeing you hanged."
"God be praised," cried Nancy; "we have met with Christians at last. When men speak of the gibbet, I know that they have served the Lord and will fight the devil. To-night you have fought four devils instead of one, and like angels have overcome them."
"Do you hear that, Bill? The old wench calls Wright an angel," exclaimed one of the scamps, turning his head towards his companion as well as he was able.
"If we had him on the mountain we would make an angel of him d——d quick, by singeing off his hair," replied the fellow addressed as Bill.
"Who is the woman by your side?" Mr. Brown asked Nancy.
"Ah, poor thing, she was on her way to the mines with her husband, when these devils set upon us, killed the men, and made us prisoners. If my old man had been there it wouldn't have happened, I know," was Nancy's confident reply.
"Why so?" I asked.
"Because he can lick half a dozen such cowards as these, and one glance of his eye would have been sufficient to have frightened them."
"That is so, Nance," laughed one of the prisoners; "he is frightfully cross-eyed, and as homely as a hedgehog."
"The Lord be thankful for it, for I know that if his eyes are not right his heart is."
"Keep your remarks to yourself," said Mr. Wright, sternly, addressing the prostrate man; but that they had no intention of doing, for, like all desperadoes, they were determined to appear "game" to the last.
"Don't you think, master, dear, that I'd better string 'em on me spear like herring? 'Twould save a dale of trouble," asked Mike.
"That death would be too easy for them. They must die on the gallows," Mr. Wright said, impressively.
"And how do you know which is the easiest, old cock?" demanded Bill. "Was you ever hung for sheep stealing, or skewered for house breaking?"
"Pay no attention to them, sir," Nancy exclaimed. "They are demons from the other world, and will soon be at home."
"Amen," piously ejaculated the ghost.
We managed, after some little persuasion, to get the women upon their feet, and inspire them with energy enough to undertake the journey to the house.