Three days passed before Gerrard and the black boy were able to leave
the Rocky Waterholes. The bodies of their treacherous assailants they
interred in the soft, sandy soil at the foot of one of the granite
pillars, and then Gerrard took their valises containing their gold,
together with their arms and saddle pouches, and rolled them in a
blanket, which he strapped on one of the gang's horses, which was
to serve as a pack. He intended to hand everything over to the Gold
Commissioner, whom he expected to see at Ochos Rios in a few weeks,
and who having judicial powers, would, he expected, hold the official
inquiry into the deaths 'of the men at the station itself.
Tommy made but little of his wound, and only grinned when Gerrard said
he was lucky not to have had his jaw smashed by the bullet. He doctored
it in the usual aboriginal manner: first powdering it with wood ashes,
and then plastering the whole side of his face with wattle gum.
“My word, Tommy,” observed his master gravely, “you got him handsome
fellow face now--all the same as me. Plenty fellow lubra want catch you
now for benjamin.” {*}
* “Plenty of women will want to get you now for a husband.”
Gerrard's own wound, although painful, did not prevent him from either
walking or riding. The soft wattle gum was a splendid styptic, and
two whole days and nights of complete rest did much to accelerate his
recovery; and game being plentiful at and about the waterholes, he and
Tommy made themselves as contented as possible, for there was still a
clear week before the pearling lugger was due at the mouth of the Coen.
He had changed his mind about letting Tommy go back alone along the
beach, and decided to take him with him in the vessel. The boy's bravery
had impressed him greatly, and although he knew his resourcefulness and
abilities as a bushman, he thought it would not be fair--for the sake
of two horses--to let him run the risk of being cut off by the coastal
blacks, while on his way to the station. As for the horses, they would
find their way home safely in all likelihood, unless they came across
poison bush. The blacks did not often succeed in spearing loose horses,
the slower-moving cattle being their favoured victims.
They left the Rocky Waterholes as the strength of the afternoon sun
began to wane, and headed due west As they rode round the side of the
largest pool, the three horses of the dead men, which were camped under
the shade of the Leichhardt trees, brushing the flies off each other's
noses with their long tails, raised their heads inquiringly as if to
say. “Are you going to leave us here?” and then sedately trotted after
them.
Gerrard turned in his saddle. “Let them follow us, if they like, Tommy.
They will be company for 'Dutchman' and 'Waterboy.' I think they'll all
turn up at the station by and by.”
The unexplored country from the Waterholes to the coast was very
pleasant to see in all its diversified beauties: deep water-worn gullies
whose sides were clothed with wild fig, wattle, and cabbage palms,
opening out into fair forest country, well timbered with huge acacias
and a species of white cedar, whose pale blue flowers filled the air
with their delicious perfume. Bird life was plentiful, the chattering of
long-tailed pheasants and the call of many kinds of parrots resounding
everywhere, and filling the tree-clad gullies with melodious,
reverberating echoes.
Night came on swiftly, but a night of myriad stars in a sky of cloudless
blue; and then, fifteen miles from the Rocky Waterholes, they came to a
wide but shallow creek, whose banks were well grassed, and which offered
a tempting resting-place. Here and there were clumps, or rather groves,
of graceful pandanus palms, with long pendant leaves, rustling faintly
to the cool night breeze.
“We'll camp here till daylight, Tommy. I'm feeling a bit stiff.”
As Tommy unsaddled and hobbled out the horses, Gerrard lit a fire, made
the two quart pots of tea, and he and the native had their supper. Then,
although they had seen no signs of blacks since they had left Hansen's,
they took unusual precautions to prevent being surprised, for Gerrard
especially was not in a fit condition for much exertion. Letting the
horses graze where they listed, they put out the fire, and carried their
saddles, blankets, arms, etc., out to a sandbank in the middle of the
creek, and made themselves comfortable for the night on the soft, warm
sand--too far away from either bank to fear any danger from a shower of
spears.
The night wore all too quickly away for Gerrard, for as he lay on his
blanket, gazing upward to the star-studded heavens, he forgot the pain
of his wounds in his thoughts of Kate, and he sighed contentedly. In two
weeks or so he would be by her side at Ocho Rios.
There had never been what some people call “courtship” between Kate and
Gerrard. When she came to the station on her promised visit, her father
had come with her. He stayed a few days at Ocho Rios, and then set out
on his return to Black Bluff Creek, accompanied by Gerrard, who was
going part of the way with him. They had ridden for a mile or two from
the station, chatting on various matters, when Gerrard suddenly drew
rein.
“Mr Fraser!”
The old man looked up, wondering at the “Mr.”
“What is it, Gerrard?”
“I am going to ask your daughter to marry me.”
Fraser could not help a smile. “There's no beating about the bush
with you, Tom Gerrard.” Then he put out his hand, and said with grave
kindness: “You are the one man whom I should like to see her marry.”
“Thank you,” and the younger man's face flushed with pleasure.
Then Fraser, like the tactful man he was, said not a word more on the
matter.
“Look here, Gerrard, what is the use of your coming any further with me
when you have so much to do? Get back, my son--and I wish you luck. Give
Kate my love, and tell her I said so,” and then shaking hands with his
friend, he struck into a smart canter.
Gerrard rode slowly home. Kate, Jim, and Mary were engaged in making a
seine in the cool back verandah. Kate looked up with a smile, surprised
and pleased to see him back so soon.
“Will you come with me and shoot some guinea-fowl, Miss Fraser?” Then he
hurriedly turned to Jim: “You need not come, Jim. Go on with the seine.”
An hour later they returned--without any guinea-fowl. Gerrard was in
high spirits. He slapped Jim on the back.
“Let the seine rip, Jim, and get your gun, and we'll try and get some
pheasants. We couldn't see a blessed guinea-fowl anywhere; could we,
_Kate?_”
“No, _Tom_, we could not; they are horribly scarce to-day, Jim,” she
replied demurely, as she fled to her room.
After a quiet, restful night, Gerrard and Tommy made an early start,
driving the pack-horse in front of them, and followed by the three spare
horses. All that day they travelled slowly, and at sunset reached the
mouth of the alligator-haunted Coen, where, to Gerrard's delight, they
saw a smart, white-painted lugger lying at anchor. In answer to their
loud _coo-e-e!_ a boat manned by two Malays, put off, and the master
jumped ashore.
“How are you, Mr Gerrard? You see I'm three days sooner than I said, but
we got a rattling north-westerly as soon as we rounded Cape York. But
what is wrong with your face, Mr Gerrard?” he added sympathetically;
“and you're lame too, I see. Niggers, I suppose?”
“No, we haven't even seen a nigger, Captain Lowry. But I'll tell you the
whole yarn by and by, after we get aboard. Got any arnica?”
“Plenty, and whips of plaster too. I'll soon fix you up, ship-shape and
Bristol fashion.”
“Thank you, captain,” said Gerrard, as he and Tommy began to unsaddle
the horses; “I'll be glad if you will. I don't want to get back to
the station until I look a little bit less patchy. And so if you are
agreeable, I'll be glad if we go on a bit of a cruise along the coast
for about ten days or so.”
“I'm agreeable--more days, more dollars. But it will cost you another
fifty pounds or so above the charter money.”
“Well, I shall spend it for the benefit of my complexion, Lowry. Now,
hurry up with our traps, Tommy, I'm going to eat a supper that will
astonish you, Lowry.”
As soon as he reached the vessel he went below, and wrote letters to his
sister and Kate, enclosed them in an old piece of an oilskin coat given
him by Lowry, then called Tommy, and told him to go on shore again, and
secure it to Waterboy's mane. His object was to allay any fears about
him if the two station horses got to Ocho Rios before the lugger. The
yellow packet would be sure to be noticed, and opened. He had carefully
avoided any mention of his encounter with Aulain, and had also cautioned
Tommy on the subject: he did not want his sister and Kate to know
anything of the matter, from himself at least. He had decided upon a
pardonable fiction--he would tell them that he had been thrown from
his horse, and received a rather bad cut; of his bullet wound and the
tragedy at the Rocky Waterholes he made no allusion.
“It's no use worrying them over nothing,” he said to Lowry, when he had
told the seaman the story of the attack by Forreste and his gang. “In a
week or so I'll be as fit as you are. But you'll have to back me up in
what I have written about you being afraid that we are in for a week
or two of calm; they won't forgive me in a hurry if they ascertain that
instead of being becalmed, the _Fanny Sabina_ was cruising merrily about
the Gulf of Carpentaria.”
Lowry gave his promise, and then he and his passenger had supper on deck
under the awning which covered the smart little vessel's deck from bow
to stern.
At dawn next morning, Gerrard, after a delightfully refreshing sleep,
was awakened by the captain.
“Rouse up, Mr Gerrard. We're underway, and I want to know the
programme.”
“How far to Cape Keerweer?”
“Four days' sail in such light weather as this.”
“That will suit me. I'll be able to begin to enjoy myself by then, and
I want to see those big lagoons near the Cape. Tommy says that they are
alive with game, and you and I can put in a day or two there.”
“Just the thing. I've a couple of good guns on board,” then he turned to
the man at the tiller.
“Keep her south, my lad. For'ard there, set the squaresail. Now, Mr
Gerrard, you'll see what the little _Fanny Sabina_ can do even in a
light wind like this,” and Lowry looked with an air of pride at his
dainty little craft.