Two days, three days glided by, and the convict was not found. Then a
week passed, and another, and he was still at large; but a letter was
brought up from the post, a couple of the mounted police being the
bearers. This letter, from the doctor, told that Sir John O'Hara was
dangerously ill, and that his life was despaired of; it was impossible
to leave him till a change took place; and the letter ended
affectionately, with hopes that Nic was managing the station well, and
that all was going on peacefully.
The mounted police were going on to Mr Dillon's, and on their return in
three days they were to take back Mrs Braydon's answer.
The men had just ridden off after a rest and a hearty meal, when, as Nic
turned to re-enter the house and hear the letter read over again, he saw
old Sam's head over the garden fence, and the handle of his spade held
up as a signal.
"Want me, Sam?"
"Ay, sir; come in here. I don't want Brooky to see me talking to you as
if I was telling tales. We has to live together, and we're bad enough
friends without that."
Nic went round by the gate, and the old man sunk his voice.
"He's been at 'em, sir."
"Who has been at what?"
"I don't mean what you mean, sir. Brooky got at them two police. Know
what that means?"
"About Leather?" cried Nic.
"That's it, sir. There'll be another hunt 'safternoon and to-morrer;
and if they don't ketch him then, when they go back they'll take a
'spatch from Mr Dillon, and we shall have a lot of 'em down here."
Nic's face contracted from his mental pain.
"Don't you look like that, my lad. They ain't got him yet. Do you
know, I shouldn't wonder if he's gone right away with Bung's tribe, and
they won't get him. But I say, Master Nic, you won't go over to the
Wattles, will you?"
"No, certainly not."
"But you'd like to hear?"
"Yes, of course."
"Then I tell you what, sir: just you tell our three that, as they've
been very good boys, they may have a holiday and go and get a good lot
o' bunya nuts."
"Get a lot of what?" said Nic, in a tone of disgust.
"Bunya nuts, sir: grows on them trees something like firs. They ain't
half bad, I can tell you."
"But I don't want to send them out nutting," said Nic. "They're better
at work."
"You don't understand, sir. I saw them staring over the fences at the
perlice. You give them leave, and off they'll go and watch everything,
just as if they were on'y playing about. Then we shall know
everything."
In the result, there was very little to know; for when the three
blackfellows came back that night, they could only tell that there had
been a long hunt for the convict. They got to know, too, that there was
to be another next day.
Then the police returned, received their letters for the doctor, and as
they rode off for their long journey to the port they told Nic in
confidence not to make himself uncomfortable, for they would be back
soon with a little troop and some trackers, and that then they would
soon catch the escaped man.
"I don't suppose he'll venture near the station, sir; but if he does,
and don't surrender, you're justified in shooting him down."
Nic drew his breath hard as he went back to the house very thoughtfully,
but he said nothing indoors.
That afternoon he mounted, and sent the two collies nearly frantic by
whistling to them to come after him; and as they dashed on Nic rode
after at an easy canter, to take a long round amongst the grazing,
off-lying cattle, and carry out another project he had in mind.
It was very pleasant riding there through the far-stretching, park-like
place, and that afternoon the number of birds he passed was enormous,
but Nic did not shoot at them. A large iguana, a hideous, dragon-like
creature, ran to a big tree, making Sorrel start as it crossed his path,
and then the great lizard crept up among the branches, puffing itself
out, waving its tail, and looking threatening and dangerous. But Nic
paid no heed to it, instead of shooting it for the blacks' supper. And
twice over large snakes were left unmolested, in spite of the furious
barkings of the dogs, and their reproachful looks, which seemed to say,
"Why didn't you shoot?"
For Nic had been thinking that if he extended his round day by day, he
would, sooner or later, come upon Leather, who must be in hiding
somewhere near, for he would never dare to go right off into the wilds
and seek starvation.
There were the dogs too; and in all probability they would scent him
out, and he could warn him of the coming of the police.
But though Nic extended his rounds more and more, the days glided by,
and neither in open glade, deep ravine, ferny gorge, hollow forest
monarch, nor dense patch of bush did he come upon the slightest token of
the convict ever having been there.
Then in despair he tried a new plan. He quietly got the three blacks
together and explained to them what he wanted, and rode behind them in
high glee as they trotted on, spear in hand.
"What a stupid I was not to think of this before!" he said to himself;
full of confidence. But that night he rode back low-spirited and dull.
The blacks had shown him holes in trees, out of which they chopped
opossums; the lairs of kangaroos; the pool where a couple of egg-laying,
duck-billed platypi dwelled; and trees bearing a kind of plum, and
others with nuts: but no signs of Leather.
He tried the next day, and at another time would have been fascinated by
the unusual-looking objects the blacks pointed out; but now he wanted to
find the convict, and everything else was as nothing; for he felt
certain that if the party came over from Port Jackson, the result would
be that Leather would be hunted out, refuse to surrender, and be shot
down.
But the trips with the blacks all proved to be dismal failures.
Oh yes, they understood.
"Plenty come along find Leather. Corbon budgery. My word, come along."
But they found him not; and when bullied, they smiled, looked stupid, or
shook their heads.
"It's because they won't find him, Master Nic. They know all the time,"
said old Sam.
Acting upon this idea, Nic attacked the three blacks separately, telling
them he was sure they knew where Leather was in hiding, and insisting
upon being told; but the only result he obtained in each case was a
stare of surprise and puzzlement. The man's face puckered up, and at
last he mumbled out:
"No pidney (understand). Mine no take Leather fellow in myall. Mine no
been see it mandowie (tracks)."
"Be off!" said Nic; and the others talked in a similar way, and went
"off;" looking the quintessence of stupidity.
"You're all wrong, Sam," said Nic, the next time he ran against the old
man.
"What about, sir--them calves?"
"No, no--about the blacks. I questioned each of them, and they were all
as stupid as could be."
"No, I ain't wrong, sir. You get 'em all three together, and promise
'em plenty of damper, some sugar, and a pot each of your ma's jam; then
you'll see."
"I'll soon do that," said Nic. "They're in the wool-shed."
"But Brooky's there, sir."
"No, I saw him go off toward the fern gully an hour ago, with a gun upon
his shoulder."
"Look here, sir. You'd better lock up all the guns, and keep 'em till
they're wanted, or maybe we shall be having mischief done."
"What do you mean?"
"Mean, sir? As Brooky's always going about with a gun, and on the
watch. He don't want a gun to go and look round o' they cows. He feels
as Leather's close handy somewhere, and afraid he'll take him unawares.
If you was to ask him, he'd tell you he was sure the blacks knew where
Leather's hiding. There, I'm sorry for him after all."
"So am I, poor fellow."
"Nay, I don't mean Leather: I mean Brooky. He can't even sleep of a
night for fear Leather should come and pay him out. It sarves him
right, I know, for he always was a brute to Leather; but there, he's
being paid back pretty severe. You go and talk to them there black
boys. You'll get it out of them with that jam."
Nic strode across toward the wool-shed, and found the blacks jabbering
away hard, and evidently quite excited; but they heard his steps, and
three rough black heads came softly into sight, one round each doorpost,
and the other above a couple of broad boards which ran in grooves, used
to keep pigs or other animals from entering to make a warm bed in the
wool. But the moment they caught sight of their young master they
disappeared, the middle man going off cart-wheel fashion, like a black
firework, with arms and legs flying, so as to get behind a stack of
wool.
"Here, you fellows," cried Nic, looking over the board, "come here!"
"Baal go floggee blackfellow," protested Bungarolo.
"No mine no flog," cried Nic.
"Mas Nic corbon budgery (very good). All come along."
This brought out the other two grinning.
"Mine come fish?" cried Damper.
"No; I want to find Leather fellow. You boys pidney where he is."
The faces ceased grinning, and looked as if carved out of some burned
wooden stump, all hard, solid, and immovable.
"There, I know: so no nonsense. You all take me and show me Leather
fellow's mandowie, and I'll give you plenty damper, plenty mutton,
plenty sugar and jam."
"Mine no find mandowie (tracks)," said Rigar. "You pidney (know),
Damper?"
"Mine no pidney," said Damper. "Mandowie myall. Bungarolo pidney?"
"Bung no pidney," said that gentleman.
"Yes, you all pidney--more sugar, more jam, more damper," cried Nic.
But the men only stared blankly; and growing impatient at last with the
three ebony blacks, Nic left them to go back to Sam, but turned sharply,
to see that they were all three watching him with their faces in a broad
grin.
This exasperated him so that he made a rush back to look into the long
dark shed, where he could see wool everywhere, but no traces of the
blacks, who seemed to have disappeared.
"I'll bring a whip," he shouted, and then went away, laughing at the way
the men were scared.
"Sam's right," he said: "they are like big black children. Here! Hi!
Samson," he shouted, and the old man came to meet him. "They don't
know."
"Don't know, sir? What makes you say that?"
Nic related his experience, and Sam grinned.
"And they laughed at you," he said, showing his teeth. "Why was that?
On'y because they enjoyed being as they thought too clever for you,
Master Nic. They know, sir; but it's no use--they won't tell. They
like you and me; but if they'd speak out to us as they do to one
another, they'd say, `No mine tell Leather fellow, Mas Nic, plenty mine
jam, damper. Leather fellow mumkull.'"
"Mumkull? Afraid Leather would kill them for telling?"
"That's it, sir, safe."
There was something to stir the pulses of Nic soon after, and he somehow
felt glad that he did not know the convict's hiding-place, for a dozen
of the colonial mounted police rode up, followed by half a dozen black
trackers and a couple of chained and muzzled, fierce-looking dogs, whose
aspect sent a shiver through Nic, excited the indignation of the
collies, and drove Nibbler into a fit of fury, making him bound to the
end of his chain so savagely that he dragged his tub kennel out of its
place and drew it behind him, making him look like some peculiar snaily
quadruped trying to shed its shell.
"Better shut up your dogs, sir," said the policeman who had been once
before. "Letter for Mrs Braydon."
The dogs were quieted and shut away, so that they could not commit
suicide by dashing at the powerful brutes held in leash; and once more,
while the police were being refreshed, Mrs Braydon read her letter over
to her children, who learned that the governor was no better, that the
doctor was bound to stay, and that while he regretted this, and the bad
news about the assigned servant, every assistance ought to be given to
the police who had come to fetch him back to the chain gang.
Nic said nothing, but after a time he saddled Sorrel, and rode with the
police leader as they started for their first search.
"Now, Mr Braydon," said the man, "your father said that we must take
this fellow; so as in all probability you know where he is, perhaps
you'll tell us which way to go and capture him."
"I don't know," said Nic quickly.
The man smiled.
"You needn't disbelieve me," said Nic warmly. "I tell you I haven't the
least idea."
"And if you had, you wouldn't tell us, eh?"
"I'm not going to answer questions," said Nic. "But mind this: if you
find him, I won't have him shot down."
"Then he mustn't shoot at us, sir," said the man, smiling, "so you'd
better send him word if you know where he is. Forward!" he cried, and
the party trotted toward the Wattles, but turned off a little over
half-way there, and to Nic's horror he felt that they had hit upon the
place where he and the convict parted that night just as the storm came
on. And here, after a few words from the head of the little force, two
of the blacks came forward and began to quarter the ground like dogs,
their bodies and heads bent forward, and their eyes searching the grass
with the keenest eagerness.
But it was a long time before either of them showed that he had found
signs.
Then one stopped short, dropped upon his knees, uttered a cry, and his
fellows ran softly up behind him, keeping close to each other, and being
careful not to go near the track or whatever it was that he had found.
Then began a low excited jabbering, during which the mounted men sat
fast, one of them holding the leash which restrained the dogs.
At last the quick discussion ended, and the first black rose from his
knees and made a sign to the police leader to come forward, Nic without
hesitation following and peering over the blacks, who gave way a little,
while the first pointed down to something which Nic expected to find was
a footstep, but which proved to be a big common knife, rusted by
exposure to rain and air.
This was picked up now and handed to the leader, while Nic's eyes
dilated a little, for he felt sure that he had seen the knife before;
and in the convict's hands, when he was eating his cold meat and damper
beneath a tree.
"Yes," he said to himself with a little shiver, "that is his knife. He
must have dropped it here. It had a buckhorn handle, and on the other
side three crosses had been filed pretty deeply." He remembered that
fact well.
Just then the police leader turned round sharply, saw his interested
look, and said, in a decisive, imperative tone of voice:
"You know that knife, sir?"
To gain time the boy held out his hand, drawing his breath hard, and
striving to control his voice and make it firm.
Then, as he took the knife, he examined it as if in doubt, hesitating
about turning it over, and then handing it back, saying firmly, "No."
"That's a lie," thought the man, as he retook the knife, "and my lord
here is trying to keep the lair hidden. He knows."
But the knife had no crosses filed in the handle, and Nic was breathing
freely, when he noticed that the black was pointing to something else--a
faintly marked footprint, evidently made by a coarsely made sandal or
shoe. Beyond this was another, and again beyond another.
"That's right--go on!" rang in his ears, and the next moment the party
was again in motion, with the blacks bending low, and from walking
beginning to trot, while the policeman pressed his horse closer to
Nic's.
"Easy trail to follow, sir," he said. "Now, then, don't you think you'd
better save us further trouble by taking us straight across country to
your man's form?"
"I told you I did not know where he was hiding," said Nic shortly.
"You did, sir, but I thought I'd save trouble. These birds are a bit
desperate when run down, and I'm sure you wouldn't like to see him shot
when he refuses to surrender. Now, would you?"
"No," said Nic, rather faintly.
"Out with it then, and we'll take him by surprise--surround him after
dusk. Then it will mean a flogging or two, and another year in the
gang, and perhaps a fresh chance. Better than being buried, sir, in the
bush."
Nic remained silent, but with his brow contracted.
"Very well, sir, but you see. Why, I can trace that track as I ride.
We could find him now without the blacks."
Still Nic held his peace, and rode on beside the man, as mile after mile
was traced, leading, to the boy's surprise, toward the Bluff, but
curving off a mile from home, as if to go round it to reach the other
side.
And so it proved, the blacks trotting on till they did pass the house
half a mile away; and Nic jumped to the conclusion that the poor fellow
had made for the fern gully, up which, somewhere probably on the
riverside, was his lair.
They went right on, without once being at fault, the footprints, with
the left sole badly cracked across, showing clearly at times in the soft
soil, till the place where the black-fish were caught was passed, and
the valley slope mounted for the open ground, where the sheep was kicked
into the rift that ran down toward the water.
From here the footsteps went right across toward the station, and the
leading black ran them easily and triumphantly right up to the men's
bothy, at whose door Brookes stood hollow-cheeked and anxious.
"Got him?" he cried hoarsely, when, to his surprise, the blacks dashed
at him and had him down, while the leader secured and held up one of his
boots with the sole toward the head of the police.
"Mine find," he cried, pointing to a crack across the sole; and Nic
forced the nag away, and trotted off to the stable to hide his laughter,
and then stood patting his horse, feeling quite heartsick from the
tension now relieved.
For he had made sure that so as to be in a place not likely to be
searched Leather had come by night to the station, and that he would be
found hidden in one of the piles of wool, whereas it was evident that
Brookes had been over to the Wattles, and had come that way back,
searching along the fern gully, to make sure of Leather not being in
hiding there.
For two days more the police hunted in every direction, but neither the
keen eyes of the blacks nor the senses of the dogs were of any avail,
and at last the search was given up.
"We shall find him back here some day," said the head policeman, "if
he's still alive. But,"--the man looked significantly at Nic--"they
don't always have life left in 'em when we do find 'em. Good day, sir.
We may look you up again."
They rode off, and the station was free of them, for they had made a
sort of barrack of the wool-shed, where the fleeces made most
satisfactory beds; and as they grew less and less, Nic turned away, to
see the light all at once blaze, as it were, into his darkened mind.
"How stupid!" he said, half aloud. "Why, I know where he is hiding,
after all."
He looked up, and there was Brookes watching him with curious eye.