For an instant the two lads lay where they had stumbled together on the bank, but the next they sprang to their feet and rushed to the edge of the cliff, and kneeling down looked over. For a few seconds the roar of the great volume of escaping water and the heavy rolling of the rocks and stones borne along in its current boomed in their ears, but this soon ceased, and only the usual noise of the falling cascade could be heard. The pool could not be refilled, as the opening on the far side of it had not been closed up again, and through this gap the stream flowed out into its old, worn channel.
Four of the myalls lay dead and mangled among the stones beneath the fall, and the body of one lay jammed across the opening in the rocks, through which the water flowed, with his long black hair streaming in the current like a dusky weed. One man only remained alive, and he was bruised and cut and bleeding. He was dragging himself slowly and with difficulty out of the rushing stream, and was evidently so badly hurt that he could hardly stand.
"Oh, Alec, isn't it awful?" said Geordie, with a shudder, as he looked down. "And to think that we have killed those five men."
"It was in self-defence; they would have murdered us without hesitation."
"Yes, I know. But I wish I were at home; I have had enough of death."
"Let us go down and see what we can do for the one fellow that is left."
So saying, the boys descended from the cliff. Both of them were greatly affected at the work they had had to do in self-defence; they were not hardened to the sight of death, and to have thus swept five strong men from life into the black and unknown sea of death was very terrible to them. George, who was more emotional than his brother, was very pale; the intense excitement and enormous physical strain that he had undergone in the last few moments had quite unnerved him. He could hardly walk, but he made a determined effort and pulled himself together. Perhaps what did more to restore him to his usual state, than his own determination to be himself, was the sight that he and Alec saw as soon as they reached the foot of the cliff.
The one half-stunned myall that was still alive had managed to get out of the stream, and was hurrying, as fast as his wounded condition would let him, towards the valley, and close behind him was Murri in full pursuit with waddy in hand. They could see at a glance that Murri meant killing this man. They both of them shouted at the top of their voices to stop him, and, rather to their surprise, he stood still. He probably thought that Alec and George wished to kill the man themselves, for as Alec came up to him he handed him his waddy, and said—
"Along um side o' head, bail um top, yo hit him."
All that Alec vouchsafed in reply was—
"Get out of the way, you brute; I am not going to kill the man."
It was very evident that the myall thought very much the same way as Murri, for as Alec and George caught him up, just round the bend of the gully, he turned on them savagely like a wounded animal at bay, meaning to sell his life as dearly as possible. The ground was covered with sand and loose shingle just there, for after storms the swollen stream swept over it. The Wyobree was a plucky fellow, for although badly hurt and weakened by loss of blood, by great drops of which, indeed, he could be traced all the way from the waterfall, he showed a bold front, and manfully offered fight. The boys could not help admiring his savage valour as, thus weakened, he stood up to his two foes.
The lads could see that they would be unable to make him believe they meant him no harm, so, not giving him time to strike a blow, they sprang on to him from both sides at once and easily overpowered him. He struggled and kicked and fought as long as he could, but the boys held him down without difficulty until Murri came up, whom they made tell the myall that they would not hurt him.
"What must we do with the creature now that we've got him? I can't see why you didn't let him quietly sneak off," said George.
"If we had not caught him he would have been home in no time, and we should have had the whole tribe on to us before we knew where we were."
"But we don't want to take home prisoners of war as well as plunder," said Geordie, with a nod of his head towards the end of the gully where the gold was.
"I know we don't, but we will keep this gentleman—pretty fellow, isn't he?—till we have caught the horses and are quite ready to start, and then we can let him go."
"In the meantime we'll take him to the humpie and bandage the poor beggar's head up. That cut would have knocked most men over, but these black fellows do stand pain wonderfully. Come along, old ugly," said Geordie, putting his hand under the man's arm and helping him to rise.
Between them, and followed by the wondering Murri, they led the myall to the humpie, and George, who felt all right again directly that there was anything for him to do, managed to tie up the gash on the side of the man's head, from which a great stream of blood was pouring. He was not particularly clever at that sort of work, and the bandage was doubtless a clumsy one, but it stopped the bleeding, and that was the main point.
The utter ingratitude and treachery of these Australian myalls were shown very brutally by this fellow whilst George was doing what he could for him. Having dropped one of the strips of the flannel shirt he had torn up for bandaging, Geordie stooped to the ground to pick it up, and the myall instantly aimed a deadly blow at the back of his head with a short, heavy nullah, which the boys had not removed from his girdle, and which he snatched from his thigh. But Alec, who was standing by his left hand side, saw the movement of his hand, and before the blow could descend he had struck the man to the earth with one blow of his fist.
"You infernally ungrateful brute!" he shouted, livid with passion at the dastardly fellow.
"Good gracious, Alec, whatever's the matter?"
"Why, this black demon tried to beat your brains out the instant you stooped down. I believe Murri is right after all. I've a good mind to put a bullet through his wicked head."
"Oh, no, you haven't. Loose him, Murri," for that worthy fellow had pounced on him and was nearly throttling him with his hands. "You know what they are well enough; they are born and bred and live in treachery and cunning. They are like dingoes or snakes in that respect."
"Yes, and deserve equally to be shot with those beasts."
"But they are men, remember."
"Well, I wouldn't lay another finger on him if I were you. Let the brute bleed."
"Very well," said George, composedly, sitting down, for he knew perfectly well that he only had to wait a minute for Alec to cool for him to think very differently.
After a moment or two had passed without a word from either, during which the myall sat sullenly and silently with the blood flowing from his wound, Alec said, in rather an ashamed voice—
"I say, Geordie, we can't let that beggar bleed to death."
George sprang up with a glad face.
"I knew you thought so. I only said 'very well' because I was sure of it, and because I can't bear to act as though I thought I were a better fellow than you, old man. Come on, give us the bandage."
George very soon had completed his surgical work, and the wounded man sat without offering to move hand or foot, having failed in his one attempt at vengeance.
"Give him a billy of water to drink, and then tie his feet together with this strap and his hands behind his back, so that he can't get away whilst we are catching the horses."
Murri carried out Alec's instructions, tying the knots with much vindictiveness, grumbling to himself all the time that it would be better to kill the fellow at once and save all this bother. The antipathy that all partly civilised Australian natives feel for those that are still quite wild and savage is one of the strangest results of their progress, and it was this feeling on Murri's part that prompted him to urge the killing of the myall upon the boys.
Leaving the wounded man safely bound in the humpie and in the care of Como, who had returned from the hiding-place to which he had flown at the approach of the myalls, the boys and Murri went down the valley in search of the horses. It took them some little time to find them, for, although they all were hobbled, they had managed to ramble to a good distance, and having been without work for the last week or ten days, and having had plenty of good feed all the time, they were all rather wild and difficult to overtake. It would have taken them a much longer time had not Alec caught a glimpse of Amber, and calling to him by name the docile animal recognised his voice, and came shambling up to him as quickly as his shackled feet would let him move.
Alec took the hobble from the horse's feet, having first put on his bridle, which he had brought with him for the purpose, and lightly sprang on to Amber's back.
"Hurrah! I feel I am myself again now that I have a horse between my legs. I've never been so long without mounting a horse since I first learned to ride."
"Don't sit grinning there, then, but just head the other horses round towards the end of the gully and let me have one too."
Alec Law could ride a horse bare-backed almost as comfortably as he could a saddled one, and he cantered off after the other horses, sitting erect and graceful as easily and naturally as though his feet were in stirrups. Geordie looked after him admiringly as he rode along in the sunshine; he might fairly have compared him with those Greek horsemen who live for ever in the marble of the Parthenon frieze had he ever seen or known anything of those most beautiful and gracious of riders, but, unfortunately, he was quite ignorant of them and of Greek art, too, so the opportunity for a beautiful simile was lost.
As the three other horses were all hobbled, Alec easily overtook and turned them, and a short time after Amber had given himself up to his proud servitude they were all bridled and led to the humpie. There the boys tied them up whilst they completed their preparations.
There was little to be done in the way of packing, for their luggage was of the scantiest description, and nearly all the carefully hoarded provisions were exhausted. Still, there were the nine shot bags of gold to be tied up somehow and secured to the saddles of the horses, for although the pack saddle was almost empty they could not load the one horse with all the great weight of gold.
"I'm blessed if I know what to tie up the mouths of these bags with. Here is every one of them gaping and showing his golden teeth, and we can't carry them like that," said Geordie.
"Oh, here's the infant Solomon at fault at last!" said Alec, addressing an imagined audience. "I am glad that there is some one thing you have forgotten, most sapient brother; I don't feel quite so small as I should have done had you remembered everything we wanted, down to bits of string. Nay, be not thus cast down," he went on, theatrically, for his spirits had risen to a high pitch again now that things were successful once more. "What a pity that the lovely Murri doesn't wear stays, we might have used the laces."
"The infant Solomon, as you cheekily call him, is himself again," said Geordie, with a sudden laugh, as Alec's words suggested an idea to his quick wit, "and thus he reasserts his supremacy over Alexander, the dullest of his subjects." And then, as Alec did not understand him, he explained, "The myall's kangaroo sinew girdle, you old muff."
Returning to the humpie for the purpose, they took the unfortunate captive's girdle from him without the least hesitation and returned to the fall. They had taken the dead bodies of the men from the water and laid them in the shadow of the cliff, and all of them still had their belts on, but a strange feeling, they did not quite know of what, prevented the lads from robbing the dead.
The tough sinew which they obtained by untwisting the myall's belt answered their purpose admirably, and with it they succeeded in securely tying and sewing up the mouths of the bags. They loaded the pack-horse with six of these precious little sacks, and secured one on to each of the other horses. The rest of their packing, when this most important part was finished, only took them a few minutes, and, taking a last look round to see that they had left nothing behind them, and as a sort of farewell to the place where so much had happened to them, they mounted their horses. Before they left the humpie for the last time, they untied the myall, who had never once moved from the position in which they had placed him, and told him he might go. Looking half ashamed of himself, as young folk do if detected in a kindness, Alec gave the black fellow a strong knife that he always carried with him, and said apologetically to Geordie as he did so—
"I know it is silly of me, but you know I was such a brute to the fellow just now."
George had pretended not to see what his brother was doing, but when he spoke to him he said,
"Don't make excuses, old fellow. Give him what you like. We're taking thousands of pounds worth of gold away with us, and I can't help feeling a bit that it is their property somehow."
The myall said nothing as he took the knife, and hardly deigned to look at it; but the last thing the boys saw of him, as they rounded a bend in the valley, was that he was carefully examining his new possession.
The sun was high in the heavens, for it was some time past noon, as, laden with the gold they had come to seek, and in the gaining of which they had endured so much, they left the Whanga valley. Ten days before this they had ridden into the valley worse than penniless, because so much in debt; and now they were leaving it with gold enough to pay off all they owed and to put the run in thoroughly good order.
The journey, which, owing to the many accidents and dangers that had happened to them, had occupied the boys ten days in the going, was accomplished in little more than half that time on the return. They met with none of the difficulties that they had had to encounter on their way to the Whanga, the fates at last seeming propitious. The large tract of country that had been burnt by the great fire in which they had so nearly perished was green again with the young grass that had sprouted everywhere after the rain; and travelling across it was rendered much easier in many places from the fact that the stretches of dense scrub, which had so hindered them when they had crossed the country before, were all totally consumed, leaving the country open.
The heavy rains that had fallen since the fire had filled the creeks again, so that they lost no time in the search for water, in which they had wasted so many hours on the outward journey.
The only causes of delay were the stoppages necessary for the providing of provisions (for all the stores they had brought with them were now completely at an end), and these were not of frequent occurrence, as Murri generally succeeded in accomplishing his hunt either before starting in the morning or during the mid-day halt. There was no scarcity of birds, and the boys several times provided a meal by their guns, although they were chary of firing more than was necessary for fear of attracting the notice of any wandering myalls.
The party had seen nothing of their old antagonists when they passed through the gully where they had been attacked by Prince Tom and his friends, and Murri said that in all likelihood the whole tribe had wandered by that time to a very great distance from there. In all the time since they had left the Whanga they had hardly seen a native. Once they had come upon a woman and a child, who showed them where there was a native well close by, and another time they had seen the smoke of native fires at some little distance, but with these exceptions they had seen nothing of the myalls.
For the last few days the boys had talked incessantly of Wandaroo; what would happen when they were back again; who would be the person to see them first; and of all the little things that make a home-coming so delightful to look forward to, and so happy in the fulfilment. Both Alec and George were in wild spirits; the thought of their success and what it meant to all of them; the delight and relief of their mother; and the astonishment of the incredulous old Scotsman, Macleod, which they foresaw and spoke of, were sufficient cause for their happiness, and accounted for their excitement. Murri did not seem to enter into their feelings; he was in no hurry to return, he was well enough off and happy where he was; and he did not feel the calls of family affection so strongly as the white man, though it must not be thought that he was entirely without them.
The evening of the sixth day since they had left the Whanga with their precious burdens had arrived, and the little party had reached the long creek which they believed formed the north-eastern boundary of their great run. There was still an hour or so of daylight before them, but they knew they could not reach the head station before dark, as their horses, although in fairly good condition considering the heavy work they had done in the last week, were not very fresh. But the fact that night would have fallen before they could get in did not trouble them in any way; they knew their road about the run as well by night as by day, and if they did not know it the horses did, which was much the same thing. Besides, there was a moon only a few days from full, which, an hour after sunset, would make the night almost as bright as day.
Alec and George were riding a little way ahead, and Murri, whose turn it was to lead the pack-horses, was a few yards in the rear. They were scrambling down the rather rotten side of the creek talking and laughing gaily, for in their present state of excitement and high spirits a very little in the way of a joke was enough to make them laugh. At that moment they were both perfectly happy; success had crowned their endeavours, and after many toils and trials and dangers they were safely close at home once more.
"Here we are on our own land again at last; and we can call it our own now with truth. I say, Alec, doesn't the run look beautiful? I didn't half appreciate it before. What an age it seems since we went away."
"We shall be home in a couple of hours, I should think. I feel as though we ought to have a band to meet us playing, 'See the Conquering Hero comes,' for we have done even more than we hoped to do when we set out. I wonder what they'll say when we tell them."
"Oh, mother won't say anything; she'll just sit down; and be quite overcome for a minute, and then will get up, looking very happy, saying, 'Boys, you must be hungry.' Margaret will go rather red from excitement, and will run round and hug us both, forgetting that she ought to be sedate."
"What will Yesslett do?"
"That is more than mortal man can tell, for he will be leaping and yelling about the place like a madman when we tell him, and there is no knowing what he'll do in that condition. Macleod won't believe us a bit when we say we have six or seven thousand pounds worth of pure gold. Cautious, unbelieving old Scottie."
"No, but he will when we bang the gold plump down on the table before him."
They had all crossed the creek by this time, and had climbed the steep bank on the other side of it. There was rather a thick clump of trees through which they would have to pass, and they entered it still talking and laughing. The setting sun threw long shadows of the trees towards them.
"Yes," continued George, "the sound and sight of that will astonish him above a bit. What a load it is off one's mind to have got all that money safely home at last."
"There's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip," sang Alec, throwing his head back slightly in that little way of his.
"Don't be so ridiculous. Our work is at an end, we have got the gold home. There can't be a slip this time, because the cup is already at the lip."
Poor lad, his words were doomed to be proved false, for, as he uttered the very words, an armed horseman leaped out from the shelter of the trees by the side of them and shouted—
"Bail up!"
This is the Australian equivalent to the English highwayman's "stand and deliver." It has been adopted by bushrangers all over the colonies, and by it they mean to say that unless the threatened person stops and instantly throws up his arms above his head, to prevent his getting at his pistol, they will fire upon him. But this time the man had waited a little too long before shouting; the boys were close upon him, and Alec, who seemed to grasp the situation the moment the man sprang out from the trees, had clapped spurs to his horse and rushed at him. Amber was not accustomed to the use of the spur, and leaped like a stag when he felt it.
Before the ruffian had time to take a steady aim, Alec was down on him like a whirlwind, and charging full at him. The shock of the contact with Amber's weight and great strength fairly knocked the bushranger out of the saddle. The man, a heavy-browed, black-bearded fellow, gave a great shout as he fell, evidently to call his comrades, for an answering call was heard from the bank of the gully, in the direction of the Yarrun station. Alec knew that their only chance of escape lay in instant flight, so that he did not stop to touch the man, who lay like a sack on the ground, but turning in his saddle as he passed on, he fired a shot at the horse which quite disabled it. As George caught him up, Alec said—
"AN ARMED HORSEMAN … SHOUTED 'BAIL UP!'" (p. 170.)
"We are in for it now. That fellow is Jim Kearney, I feel sure, the forger and murderer. I've seen his portrait at the police station at Bateman. We must ride like mad to escape them."
"Why, Kearney is Starlight's right-hand man."
"Yes, and it is Starlight and his band who are looking out for us."
"We ought to have Margaret here."
"How can you joke, Geordie, when in a minute we may have eight or ten of the most bloodthirsty villains in Australia after us."
"Can't help it, I am really as serious as you are, Heaven knows."
They were all close together now, for Murri had overtaken them, and were galloping along at a break-neck rate. As George spoke they could hear behind them shouts, and the sound of many horses galloping at full speed. The bushrangers had heard the cry Kearney had given as he fell, and the sound of the shot Alec had fired at his horse. The pursuit had begun. Above the noise their horses made as they tore over the ground the boys could hear the faint shouts of the men in pursuit.
"Now then, bail up." "If you don't stop we'll shoot every one of you." "You can't get away." And such like cheering sentences, all uttered in the angriest and savagest of tones, and interlarded with oaths and curses. The men were still some way behind them, but the evening was so calm that they could overhear nearly all that was shouted at them.
"Look here, Geordie," said Alec, anxiously, after they had been riding in this way for some time, "do you think that we had better bail up? I don't believe our horses can hold out at this pace, and theirs are probably fresher."
"Bail up? Not we. Let them catch us if they can; we'll lead 'em a pretty dance first. Ride as lightly as you can. We know the country and they don't, and that is in our favour."
"All right, I'm game if you are. I don't think we need ask Murri; he'd ride anywhere if you led him, Geordie."
"I wish there were a few more of us, we'd stand and meet them, but as it is we shouldn't have a show."
The chase was a long and stern one; neither party would give in, and a rigorous silence had fallen on the boys, who, with determined faces, rode steadily on. Occasionally, without slackening speed, they would look over their shoulders to see if their pursuers were nearing them, and each time that they did so they thought that they were a little closer. The sun had set and the short twilight was fading into night, and still the lads rode resolutely on. The mad gallop at which they had all started had slackened, as the breath of the labouring horses became short, yet, without sign of giving in, they raced along, the gradually increasing sound of the horses behind them, which slowly but surely crept upon them, goading them to their utmost exertions. Wandaroo was still some miles away when, not more than a couple of pistol shots behind them, they heard a pleasant voice cry out—
"It is no use, you know. You may just as well give in now as ten minutes later. I'm Starlight, and I'll be hanged if I let you escape me. I'm going to have that gold. You may have heard that when I say a thing I mean it."
The pleasantness of the voice did not induce the boys to draw rein, it rather urged them all the more to evade him, if still there might be a chance; for it confirmed what the man said, and what they had believed before—that it was Starlight who was in pursuit. They had often heard of the silver voice of this villain, who could sing like an angel whilst he was perpetrating the most fiendish of acts. It was said that he always spoke pleasantest when angriest, and that once when he had ordered the wooden buildings of a station to be set fire to, which the owners had barricaded and defended against him, one man who escaped alive from the fire had said that his voice, as he gave the diabolical command, was that of a seraph. This man, this Starlight, as he called himself, on whose head a price was set by the Government, and who was guilty of every crime and cruelty that a man absolutely without heart or conscience could cram into a lifetime, was yet of so winning a presence and manner and of so beautiful a face and voice, that twice, when fairly trapped, he had befooled his captors into believing him to be some one else and to let him go.
"Do you hear what he says, Alec? The gold. How does he know of the gold?"
"He shall never have it. Not an ounce of it!" said Alec, in a resolute voice that was as steady as his determination.
Again Starlight shouted to them, his pure voice ringing quite clearly, through the hushed evening air.
"Don't be fools, you boys. I know you. If you will stop I won't hurt a hair of your heads, but I'll shoot you, as sure as my name is Starlight, if you don't pull up."
"The mean hound," said Alec, angrily; "not hurt a hair of our heads. Why he'd cut our throats, smiling all the time, if he had sworn on the Bible not to do so."
"Look here, Alec, they are certainly gaining on us. We are overweighted with this gold. We must get rid of it."
"That is just what I mean to do. Put on a spurt when we get into that belt of gums, that we can gain a minute or so."
Telling Murri of their intention, as they entered the narrow band of gum trees they spurred their horses, and Alec, who was leading him then, whipped up the pack-horse, and, regardless of their limbs, they dashed between the smooth trunks, and, emerging into the brilliant moonlight on the other side, tore down the little incline to the patch of marshy ground that lay at the bottom.
"To that little pool of water," said Alec, pointing across the low ground, which the recent rains had again converted to a swamp; and without decreasing their speed they turned towards it. Pulling up by the side of the little shining pool for one brief moment, Alec said—
"Fling every one of the bags of gold into it. Make haste!"
He threw his own in, with a heavy splash, as he spoke, and leaning across the pack-horse he tore the little sacks from its saddle and flung them in the water. Murri and George followed suit.
"Ride through the pool," Geordie whispered hoarsely, "or they will see it rippling, and guess what we have done."
But this unfair race could not be kept up; the horses that George and Murri rode, although going their very best, began to show signs of distress. It had been only the sheer pluck and spirit of the well-bred horses that had enabled them to hold their own for so long, and now the superior condition of the bush-rangers' untired horses was beginning to tell. Looking back the boys could see that Starlight was rapidly overhauling them, and that at this rate they must be overtaken before another mile was past. Some of the worst mounted men of the gang had tailed off from the main body, but were following up in a straggling line. Amber, whom Alec held tightly in hand, was going as strongly as ever; there was no signs of weakness as yet in his great stride, his ears were laid back, for he could hear the heavy thud of the galloping horses behind him, and the blood of his racing sires stirred in his veins and made him eager to outstrip them.
"I wish, I do wish, you'd push on, Alec. Amber has got it all in him. You could be home in five minutes."
"And leave you at Starlight's tender mercies, I suppose?"
"Not a bit more than I now am. It is our only chance. You may find some of the men about, and Vaulty," said he, laying his hand on the sweating neck of the roan he rode, "may possibly keep up till you can meet us."
"You know very well he's almost done up. How Murri has managed to keep that beast of his on his legs I can't think."
What Alec said was true; it was only too evident that Vaulty, sturdy nag though he was, had knocked up at last, and was quite on his last legs. It was heartrending work to be so near to succour and yet to be so entirely beyond its reach. Not a mile away was the head station, with all hands in for the night, and all ignorant how urgently their help was needed at only a few minutes' distance from the house. The agony that the two lads suffered was only intensified by their nearness to the refuge, which they both felt they could not possibly reach, for Alec could see by the way Vaulty stumbled that he could not hold out more than a minute longer; and George knew in his heart, even when he asked him to do it, that his brother would not leave him.
Nearer and nearer came the sound of the horses behind them; they could hear the muttered imprecations of the men, and once they heard Starlight give a lovable laugh as he said, "We shall overtake them by that black stump." Both the boys heard him, but they said nothing, though they looked at one another with a steady, loving glance, which seemed to say, "Well, whatever chance may befall us we have been staunch and true, and we'll die as we have lived—together." They must have been almost within pistol shot of the gang of bushrangers, when, through the thinly growing trees of the great paddock which lay between them and the house, they caught sight of the ruddy light of home. The wood fire and the lamp in the kitchen shone from the open door, and gleaming through the night seemed a bitter mockery of welcome to the two lads.
"Heaven help us, Alec!" said Geordie, and there was a sob in the poor boy's throat as he spoke; "this is very hard."
It almost seemed an answer to his prayer when, from the shadow of a stately gum, not a hundred yards away, a horseman rode out into the brilliant moonlight.
"Help, help!" the two boys called at the top of their voices, and eagerly strained their ears to catch the man's answering shout.
Oh! bitter disappointment; oh! agony of futile rage that they felt when they heard the mocking voice of Keggs cry out—
"'Elp, my fine fellers; yes, but it ain't you as I'll 'elp;" and then, with the brutal triumph that men of his low and degraded type can never help displaying, he added, "Dain't I tell yer that I'd be even with yer? Why, I fun' out from them darned blacks as 'ow you'd gorne for gold; I fatched Starlight; I told 'em w'ere ter stop yer; I done it, I done it all. And now ain't I level with yer?"
"No, and never will be," sang out a voice behind them that they had not heard before.
When George recognised Keggs' voice and the meaning of what he said, a wave of despair for the first time swept over him; the brave heart that had stood out against so many dangers gave way at last before such black treachery. The spirit that had fronted death without a tremor, that had not quailed before perils and hardships that might without disgrace have daunted an older and sterner man, grew faint when brought face to face with such base ingratitude and such cruel perfidy. Such deceit in one of their own men gave a shock to his trustfulness which for the moment completely staggered him. He loosed his hold on the bridle, saying, "It is useless to go on any longer."
The effect upon Alec of the discovery that it was Keggs who had brought Starlight down on them was very different. The man's words and the taunting tone of his voice made the elder lad boil with indignation, and it was with passionate anger that he realised the foulness of the man's degraded character and the meanness of his behaviour—living upon their food and their wages and yet betraying them. Snatching up his pistol, on which his hand was resting, he rushed at the jeering villain, who, to stop the boy, had drawn up his horse in the line he knew they must follow. Taking a rapid aim, Alec, with no more hesitation than he would have shown at shooting a mangy dingo, fired twice full at the man, who fell with a shriek and howl of agony, mortally wounded, with two bullets in his chest.
Without staying to notice the fate of such carrion, Alec turned to look for his brother, whom he had left, at some little distance behind, with Murri. Vaulty, George's horse, had stopped when his rider had thrown down the reins of his bridle, and stood quite still, trembling in every limb. Just as Alec turned to ride back to them he saw that Starlight and his gang were close upon them, and that George still sat his horse, although looking quite dazed and stupefied. Murri was leaning across from his horse and was taking hold of George's bridle as though to urge him to continue his flight, but it was in vain, for at that moment the bushrangers were upon them.
Starlight having calculated the distance, and feeling certain that he should overtake the boys before they could reach the head station, had given orders to his men that they were not to fire. He acted in this way from no feeling of mercy, for that was a sentiment he never experienced, but from a motive of policy, as he feared the noise of fire-arms might be heard by the men at the house, and bring them down upon him. Whilst Alec was still at some little distance Starlight had brought up his horse alongside of George, and turning his handsome, lovable face to him, he asked him in that false, sweet voice of his—
"Where is all that gold you have found, my lad? You have given us a stiff chase, and as we have won it you must provide the prize."
"We have no gold," said George, still like one in a dream.
"Come, come, you don't expect me to believe that," said Starlight, laying his hand on George's arm. The action was gentle, it looked almost like a caress, but the hand, although so soft, was iron-sinewed, and the boy felt his arm grasped as though in a vice.
Starlight's touch seemed to act upon him as a charm; it aroused him from the state of stupor of despair in which he was plunged, and fire coming back to his eye and life to his voice, he shouted—
"Loose my arm!" and swinging himself round in the saddle in his lithe, quick way, he tore his arm from the bushranger's grasp. Starlight made a rapid clutch at him as Geordie swerved aside, but missed his aim, and the boy, seizing his opportunity, clenched his fist and swung his stout young arm round with a backward blow, and striking the bushranger full on the side of the head almost felled him from his horse. Several of the men, thinking that things had now gone far enough, sprang to the side of the boy, and one of them, dealing him a stunning blow with his huge fist just behind the ear, roughly seized him round the waist with one muscular arm and threw him heavily to the ground. There the lad lay quite white and senseless, with the blood pouring from his nostrils, across the gnarled roots of a burnt and blackened tree stump.
During this little mêlée, Murri, who was not blessed with an entirely valiant heart, noticed that the observation of the party was fixed upon the little central group of George and his opponents. Taking advantage of this very momentary chance he silently slipped from his horse, without stopping it, and darting to a place where the stumps of several burnt trees were still standing, his black body was instantly concealed in the shadows.
The next minute one of the men noticed that Murri's horse was riderless.
"Hallo!" said he, "where the blazes is that fellow gone to?"
"Didn't see him go," answered one of the other men. "It don't matter, it was only one of them blarmed nigs; he've sneaked off."
This had not occupied a moment in happening, and it was just as Geordie was flung to the ground that Alec came upon the scene. Seeing his brother struck from his horse, and noticing that the body, which lay so white and stark in the moonlight, was quite motionless, he felt sure that this time death had claimed his own. He was maddened with passion and rage, and singling out the man who had done it, a great, swarthy fellow twice his own age, he rode at him like a fury. He was entirely without personal fear, and believing that his brother, who was his chief tie to life, was dead, he was utterly reckless of consequences to himself. He had no weapon with him but the pistol he had just fired at Keggs, but grasping this by the barrel he struck the man full in the mouth with the heavy butt of it. The passionate blow bruised and cut the bushranger's lips terribly, and shattered several of his great white teeth, and maddened with the pain of it the fellow howled a curse at Alec and drew his pistol from his belt. Alec aimed another rapid blow at him with his weapon, but his hand being wet with sweat the polished barrel of the pistol slipped from his grasp, and, as it darted from his fingers, struck the bushranger a startling blow on his bronzed cheek-bone just below the eye. The man was now absolutely beside himself with the agony of these two blows, and like a wild beast he turned to rend his enemy.
The two men, Alec and the bushranger, were now quite at close quarters, and pressing one hand to the bleeding cut on his cheek, and with an infamous oath on his lips, the man again raised his pistol to fire. But Alec had not taken his eyes from his opponent, and guiding Amber only with his knees he suddenly stooped to his saddle as the man fired, and before he was ready with his second shot had sprung upon him. He clutched his outstretched arm and bore it down with his sheer weight, and then, exerting all his strength, he grappled with the fellow, and tried to tear him from his horse.
They were not equally matched, for the man was not only much older and heavier than Alec but much stronger too, but Alec was much the more active, and being wiry and muscular he gave the bushranger as much as he could well do. The other men looked on without offering to interfere, for after all they were Englishmen although thieves, and a rough feeling of fair play prevented them interrupting what was so evidently a single combat.
At first things seemed to go in Alec's favour, for the bushranger, not daring to loose his bridle, could only use one hand, and it almost looked as though Alec would unseat his enemy. But this state of affairs only lasted a few seconds, for the man, feeling that Alec, who could use both hands, was getting the better of him, clapped his spurs to his horse and tried to tear himself out of the boy's grasp. But Alec did not mean to lose his man; he was utterly regardless of what befell himself, and was fully determined to be revenged on the man who had taken Geordie's life.
Feeling that the bushranger was endeavouring to separate himself from him, Alec swore in his heart that he should not effect his purpose, and as the bushranger's horse swerved to one side, Alec kicked his feet free from his stirrups, and, exerting all his sinewy strength, leaped on to the other horse. As he already had a firm hold of the bushranger he was able to do this with greater certainty, and before the astonished man knew what he was about the boy was firmly seated behind him. The horse, feeling this double load, and goaded by the startled spurring of its rider, darted madly away from the gang. The bushranger yelled for help and tried to stop his horse, but failed to do so. He struggled to free himself, but Alec had him at his mercy. Although the man was so much stronger than the boy, he was rendered comparatively helpless from the way in which Alec held him, for his left arm was engaged in trying to stop his terrified horse, and by his sudden leap Alec had managed to get his right arm behind his back, and in this position it was next to useless.
"ALEC KICKED HIS FEET FREE FROM HIS STIRRUPS, AND … LEAPED ON TO THE OTHER HORSE." (p. 182.)
The fury of anger that possessed Alec gave him double strength for the time, and aided by his position behind the man, he was more than his match. The tables were quite turned, and the lad at that time was the more powerful. Alec could hear the rest of the gang following them; some were laughing at Pearson's terror, and some applauded Alec's courage and address. The boy knew that, weighted as it was, the horse must be overtaken in a moment, and that if he meant to unhorse the brute in front of him he must use all his strength and lose no time in accomplishing his purpose.
Holding with a grasp of iron the bushranger's right wrist, which was behind his back, in his left hand, Alec made a clutch at his hot, hairy throat. For one moment he held him thus, digging his fingers deep into the flesh and squeezing the great muscles of the man's strong neck with all his force as he tried to choke him. But loosing his reins for one moment, Pearson tore Alec's hand away and breathed free again. It was not for long, for he had to snatch at his bridle again as the horse plunged wildly when it felt its head free, and he feared lest he should be thrown. The instant that Alec's arm was loosed he darted his hand under the bushranger's thick strong-growing beard and seized him by his throbbing throat again, and, possessed with a perfect madness of fury he swayed the strong man to and fro till he almost shook him from the saddle. Again the man wrenched himself free, but not before the veins of his purple face were swollen almost to bursting.
Alec heard the rest of the gang now close behind him, and felt that his prey was escaping him, and that after all his vengeance would be frustrated. His heart was thumping wildly, the loud pulsations of his blood were surging in his ears, and his breath came in quick laboured sobs, but his determination was unchanged, and grimly he held on to his purpose. A life for a life; this man must die! Above the loud beating of his throbbing heart, above the noisy galloping of the horse he rode and the heavy steps of those of the men now so close in his rear, Alec could hear the silver tones of Starlight's beautiful voice quite clearly as he laughingly said:—
"Don't shoot at him. It'll give Pearson a lesson, he always was a clumsy brute with a horse. The boy can't hurt him, and if he does it doesn't much matter. It is capital fun, anyway. Look how the young beggar sticks on. Don't shoot, I say; I reserve that for myself afterwards, and you might hit poor Mr. Pearson, and that would be sad." And again he laughed his bright melodious laugh.
Still holding Pearson's writhing arm behind his back, Alec made one last effort. The man, vainly trying to pull up or turn his terrified horse, was leaning forward as far as possible to escape Alec's grasp, but hearing the voices of his companions apparently so close behind him he partly raised his head and looked back. Like an eagle darting on its prey Alec was upon him. Plunging his hand with extended fingers among the bushranger's black, curling beard, Alec grasped it with an iron grip. He could feel the heat of the man's strong jaw and his burning neck as he writhed his head to free himself, and his hot breath fell on the boy's bare wrist. Twisting his hand more firmly in the mass of the man's beard, Alec wrenched his head backwards till he could look in his distorted face. Pearson again loosed his bridle, and, shrieking with pain and fear, wildly tore at Alec's hand, but in vain, for the lad was possessed for the time with the strength of three.
Seeing that the rest of the gang was now only a yard or two behind him, Alec suddenly loosed Pearson's arm, which he had been holding behind the man's back, and, with lightning swiftness, struck him two blows with his left hand, which was thus set at liberty, one on the temple and one on the arch of his bent brown throat. Then making a gigantic effort, using up the last of his strength for the time being, he managed to shake the man from his saddle—just as the brutal fellow had served Geordie—and flung him down among the hoofs of the horses in his wake.
Although the men tried to pull up or turn aside it was too late, and, galloping at full speed after Alec, several of the horses passed straight over Pearson as he lay stretched in front of them. Starlight, who was quite callous to the sufferings of others and regardless of the value of any life but his own, did not even try to evade the man, and his horse struck Pearson's head mortally as it passed over him.
Alec's strength was quite spent when he had thrown Pearson, and, although he instinctively kept his seat on the horse, he was easily overtaken and stopped. In a moment several of the men of the gang had sprung from their saddles and torn him from his panting horse. Then an angry Babel of voices rose around him in eager questioning, and in vile imprecations against him for the trouble he had cost them and for the lives that he had taken.
Alec stood quite silent under their storm of anger and abuse; he made no attempt at reply, for he was half dazed with the rapid current of events, and was so benumbed with grief at the loss of his brother, that now that his passion had spent itself he was careless of what happened to himself. He felt the hot grasp of the men's hands upon him, and, without any attempt at a struggle, he was pulled to the place were Starlight was standing.