ADVENTURE WITH A DOG.--THE MURDER IN THE RAVINE.--STORY OF AN OUTRAGED
WOMAN.
The flickering light of a fire, around which was seated three men with
sunburnt faces and long beard, hardly illuminated the bank of the river
sufficiently to distinguish objects ten yards distant. The men were
Smith the convict, Fred, and myself. Each of our mouths were graced with
dingy pipes, and while we puffed away diligently, our eyes were fixed
upon the cheerful blaze, silently watching the ever-changing embers, and
meditating upon the events of the day. The wind had gone to sleep with
the sun, and the heated air had given place to a coolness that felt
doubly refreshing after the scorching which we had undergone on the
prairie that forenoon.
The air was still perfumed with the smoke of broiled kangaroo meat,
attracting large numbers of a fox-like species of animals, that rarely
ventured from the surrounding darkness, into the light of our camp-fire,
but skulked in the vicinity, and waited for the time when sleep would
overpower us, and allow them free pillage of our larder. Occasionally an
impatient one would utter a short bark, as though expressive of his
disgust at our watchfulness, and after he had thus given vent to his
feelings, slink away into darkness again; but their fiery, eager eyes,
could be distinguished as they prowled around and jostled each other
while taking counsel.
It was near ten o'clock. We had lapsed into silence, and each one was
busy with his own thoughts, perhaps laying plans for the future. From
the time that our pipes were lighted not a word had been exchanged, and
I was just about knocking the ashes from mine, and proposing a
retirement to our blankets beneath the nearest tree, when the prolonged
howling of a dog attracted my attention.
I looked towards Smith for an explanation, but found that he was as much
puzzled as myself, and was holding his pipe in one hand, while his head
was bent in the direction of the sound, as though waiting for a
repetition before he ventured to express an opinion.
Again did the mournful sound ring across the prairie, and this time it
seemed nearer than when first heard. I thought I knew the bay, and could
have sworn that the animal was a staghound, and a full-blooded brute at
that. I had seen none of the breed since I had arrived in Australia, and
I thought it singular to find one at such a distance from Melbourne.
"What is that hound baying for at this time of night?" I asked of the
convict, who still remained speechless.
"Are you sure that it is a hound?" Smith inquired.
"Quite positive. There he goes again. The brute has treed some animal,
and is informing his master of its whereabouts," I replied, listening to
see in what direction the sound proceeded from.
"You are wrong there," cried Fred. "The dog is evidently coming this
way, and perhaps has started a kangaroo. If it comes within sight I'll
try it, even if I miss as I did this afternoon."
Fred laid his hand upon his rifle which was lying by his side, and tried
to peer into the darkness, but a moment's experiment convinced him of
the folly of his thought, and he laid the gun down again.
"I've never heard a sound like that since I left old England," the
convict said, as the baying continued, and grew nearer at each
repetition.
We all three felt an anxiety that we tried to conceal from each other.
The loneliness of our location, and the uncertainty of meeting with
friends in that part of the country, the frequent robberies that had of
late been committed, and the daring of the bushrangers, were all ample
cause for vigilance on our part; and perhaps we suspected that the dog
was used by some gang to discover the presence of travellers, and
expedite the work of pillage.
Nearer and nearer did the hound approach, and we had just time to snatch
our rifles from the ground, and start to our feet, when the animal
sprang into our narrow circle, and with subdued bays seemed to claim our
notice.
"Give him a wide berth," shouted the convict, swinging his sharp axe
over his head as though in readiness to bring it down upon the skull of
the dog if he showed signs of hostility. "Keep clear of the brute," he
continued, "for he may be mad."
The hound, a noble animal, with long, wiry limbs, and heavy jaws, around
which drops of foam were hanging, instead of shrinking from the uplifted
arm of the convict, seemed to measure the danger in which he stood at a
glance, and before we could interfere, or the heavy axe descend, sprang
full at the throat of Smith, and such was the impetuosity and suddenness
of the attack that the convict was borne to the ground, and for a moment
was at the mercy of the dog.
Fred and myself raised our rifles simultaneously, but before we brought
them to bear, the animal had quit his grip and began craunching some
bones which were lying near the fire, tearing the meat which adhered to
them in the most ravenous manner, and exhibiting all the signs of
starvation.
"Don't fire," shouted Smith, struggling to his feet. "Don't fire; you
see the poor brute is nearly starved."
We still held our rifles ready, however, and were half inclined to use
them; but, as we looked at the dog, and saw how greedily he was
devouring his food, we concluded to wait and see what he would do after
he had satisfied his appetite.
"The dog is rather quick and spiteful," cried Smith, rubbing his throat
and adjusting his shirt collar, which had been somewhat disarranged. "It
served me right for threatening him, when it's evident that he has
sought us peaceably."
The convict, instead of harboring malice, cut large pieces of flesh from
the body of the kangaroo and fed him. He greedily devoured all that was
offered, and wagged his long, rat-like tail in satisfaction. When,
however, he had nearly demolished one fore-quarter of our prize, he
walked a short distance from the fire and renewed his howling,
commencing on a low key, and gradually ascending, until the yells could
have been heard for miles.
"What is the matter with the brute?" asked Smith, turning to Fred and
myself, who were too perplexed to answer the inquiry; and, before we
could speak again, the hound walked slowly back to the fire, looked
piteously into our faces, and, strolling out into the darkness,
commenced baying as loud as ever.
Three several times did the intelligent animal seek to induce us to
follow him, without our comprehending his meaning; but when it was
evident that such was his desire, grave questions arose as to the
expediency of our doing so. We thought that possibly it was a trick to
induce us to leave our baggage so that the owners of the dog would have
an unrestricted opportunity to plunder the cart. Such things had
happened before, and why not again?
We glanced suspiciously at the hound as he stood near the fire, looking
at our faces and appearing to understand every word that was said on the
subject; indeed, when Smith stated, during the conversation, that he
would not on any account leave his wagon, the brute uttered a howl as
though he despaired of success, and turned all of his attention to Fred
and myself.
"Let us follow him," cried my friend, grasping his rifle as though he
feared nothing with that in his hand.
The dog, as soon as Fred had uttered the words, crouched at his feet and
licked his shoes, while a low bark testified to his joy.
I looked towards Smith for advice and guidance in the matter. He was
musing on the subject, but when he saw that we only waited for his
decision, he shouldered his axe, and nodded his head.
"Let us follow the brute," he cried. "We may be the means of saving
life, and, perhaps, much suffering. Lead the way, good dog, and take us
to your master."
The hound sprang from his crouching position at Fred's feet, and
started on a dog-trot along the road that led towards Melbourne. In a
few minutes, despite our exertions to keep pace with him, he was out of
sight; but we followed along the course which he had started, and after
a short time he returned to our sides, wagging his tail, and apparently
urging us to increase our speed.
A dozen times did he disappear in like manner, yet never for any length
of period; and after we had walked nearly three miles, the animal
abandoned the beaten track and continued across the prairie.
"I don't want to go a great ways in this direction," muttered the
convict, glancing around, and trying to pierce the darkness.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because, a few miles farther and we shall be near the forest which I
spoke to you about. It is infested with men better seen at a distance or
not at all."
In spite of Smith's fears, however, we tramped on quarter of an hour
longer, and then, by the uneasy movements of the dog, concluded that we
were not far from our destination.
Suddenly the animal sprang forward with a bay of warning, and
disappeared as if by magic. The next moment we were upon the steep bank
of a gulch, nearly thirty feet deep; and had not the actions of the dog
rendered us careful, we should have plunged headlong upon its rocky bed.
For a moment, we remained motionless, hardly daring to move, for fear
that one false step would lead us to our ruin; but, after listening for
a while, we heard the dog as he reached the bottom of the ravine, and
then we determined to follow at all hazards.
With careful steps we worked our way down the steep bank, and after half
an hour's toil found ourselves at the bottom. The hound was waiting for
us, and testified his impatience by a deep bay. The instant, however,
that we joined him, he became silent, and trotted on as before.
Suddenly a groan, but a few feet from us, caused us to halt, and hastily
look around. But a short distance from us were the indistinct outlines
of a cart, and near the vehicle was the hound, busily occupied in
lapping something that was lying upon the ground.
Another groan, and we moved towards the individual that seemed in such
deep distress. By the bright starlight, but which hardly penetrated the
gulch, we saw the form of a woman extended upon the rough rocks, while
near her lay the body of a man motionless.
"Here is work for us," cried Smith, all his genuine feeling returning;
and he threw his heavy axe aside, and in a twinkling had the woman's
head upon his knee, and was pouring down her throat a potion from a
black bottle which he carried in his pocket.
"Look to the man," he cried, assuming the leadership at once; and in
obedience to orders I knelt beside him, and placed my hand upon his
heart. He was cold, and his heart was motionless. As I withdrew my hand,
I felt that my fingers were moist and sticky. I tried to discover what
adhered to them, but the darkness was too great.
"Give me the matches, Smith," I said, quickly. "We will strike a light,
and investigate this affair."
A large quantity of drift wood was lying on the bed of the gulch, and
well dried by the hot summer's sun. I cut a few shavings, and a bright
fire was soon under headway, and cast its ruddy glare upon the group
collected around the cart, which was broken in half a dozen different
places, and had, apparently, been thrown from the banks above.
As soon as sufficient fuel was added, we turned our attention to the
woman whose head Smith was holding. Her eyes were closed, and her teeth
clinched like those of a person in a fit. There was not a vestige of any
color in her face, while her garments appeared as though they had
experienced rough usage, and were torn in a dozen different places. In
spite of the strong decoction which Smith had poured down her throat,
she did not revive, or appear to comprehend what was said to her; and
after rubbing her hands for a while, and finding that it did no good, I
devoted a few moments to an examination of the body of the man.
I now comprehended the meaning of the sticky substance which adhered to
my hand, for upon his breast were two large, ragged wounds, either of
which was sufficient to let out the life of a man, and from each had
oozed his blood until it had congealed in large lumps, and was held,
bag-like, by his thick flannel shirt.
"There has been murder committed here," I cried, holding up my hands,
stained with the vital fluid of the dead man.
"There has been more than murder," replied Fred, in a low tone. "There
has been violence offered to a woman."
"Impossible," I cried, with a shudder at the thought.
"Look and convince yourself, then," Fred said, seizing a burning brand
and holding it so that the light was thrown upon the face and body of
the insensible woman.
Upon her neck was a large, discolored spot, and a near examination
revealed the impression of finger-nails, as though she had been seized
with no gentle hand, and choked, until forced to yield compliance to
unholy wishes and desires.
Upon both sides of a neck that retained traces of beauty, although
bearing the impression of the sun's burning rays, were the dark marks to
be seen; and the hand that had left its impression was none of the
smallest, nor its grip the weakest, as we could readily see.
The hound had crouched close to us, and watched with wary eyes our
movements. Often did he rise and lick the face of the insensible woman,
and after uttering a howl of grief, retire to his resting place, to
mourn in secret for his loss.
"Force more of the liquor down her throat," cried Fred, who was rubbing
a hand that appeared accustomed to toil, for its palm was hard and
broad.
Smith once more brought his bottle into requisition, and forcing apart
the teeth, emptied a portion of its contents into her mouth. Whether the
chafing began to have its effect, or the liquor was uncommonly strong,
is a matter of doubt; but at any rate she strangled as though she would
never recover her breath, and ended by opening a pair of very frightened
blue eyes.
She raised her head from Smith's knee, glanced hurriedly and with
frightened looks first at Fred and then at myself, and before we were
aware of her intentions, sprang to her feet, and with loud shrieks
sought to escape. Before she had taken half a dozen steps, however,
Smith's stout arms were thrown around her, and he was calling to her in
gentle words to listen to reason, and to look upon him as a friend--that
he would protect her, and help avenge her injuries.
Part of his words were lost during the momentary struggle which occurred
between them; but when her strength failed, and she sank exhausted and
panting into his arms, for the first time she appeared to comprehend
that we were not bushrangers, but human beings and friends.
"Compose yourself," cried Smith, as gently as though he held an infant
in his arms. "See, even your dog is satisfied that we mean no harm; he
led us to this place, or you would have perished before morning. Tell us
what has happened, and how we can assist you."
"Where is my husband?" she asked, after a moment's silence, during which
her wild eyes wandered from face to face, as though seeking to verify
the truth of his words.
We returned no answer, and she repeated the question, though in a louder
tone, and appeared to doubt us because we kept silent.
"My husband! where is my husband?" she shrieked; and as she turned her
restless eyes towards the cart, she suddenly appeared to comprehend
every thing.
"He is dead--he is dead," she cried, starting to her feet, in spite of
the gentle restraint which Smith sought to impose upon her.
She saw the body of the man who had been murdered, and with a loud cry
she fell upon it, laid her head upon its cold bosom, and sobbed as
though her heart would break. We did not interrupt her grief, but the
faithful dog lay down beside her, and added his subdued howls to her
tears; and when she mourned the loudest, he would lick her hands and
face, and seek to comfort her with his love.
We heaped up fuel on the fire, and waited patiently for the time when
the woman would exhaust her grief, and give us some account of the
proceedings by which she and hers had suffered.
While Smith and Fred remained near the fire, they examined the cart to
see if it contained any thing that would be useful to the unfortunate
woman in her present hour of grief. There were a few culinary utensils,
besides a thin mattress and blankets--all thrown in promiscuously, as
though the load had been ransacked and rifled of every thing that was
valuable, and the remainder not considered worth taking away.
The night wore on, and light would soon herald the approach of day. It
was necessary that we should return to our camp, and look after our
effects; for who could tell how long they would he safe unless guarded
by a display of rifles? Besides, the cattle needed looking after, and
collecting, or they would be likely to stray back towards Melbourne and
get mixed with the wild animals which belonged to some of the numerous
stockmen on the road. Or the bushrangers might take a fancy for a change
of diet, and prefer beef to mutton; and in this case they would not be
likely to ask the permission of the owner of the animals, unless he was
stronger-handed than the robbers.
I saw Smith glance uneasily along the ravine, and edge towards the woman
as though he wished to cheer her in her affliction, and yet explain
about the large amount of property which he had left unprotected. As
her sobs had somewhat subsided, worn out by the violence of her
emotions, she appeared more calm; he made the attempt, and kneeling
beside her spoke,--
"We are strangers," he said, taking her sunburnt hand between his rough
palms, and looking at her as tenderly as though she had been his sister;
"we are strangers, but there is not a man present but will shed his
blood in your defence; and while we have strength there is no fear of
your suffering. Have confidence in us, and explain how this dreadful
affair happened."
He waited patiently for an answer, but some few minutes passed before
she could repress her sobs, which commenced anew at the sound of his
voice. At length she raised her head, brushed back the heavy masses of
hair which partly screened her face, and with an uncertain voice
replied,--
"I thank you for your offers of assistance, and accept them; for what
can I do alone in this desert without friends? My troubles are so
unexpected that if I do not appear grateful, attribute it to a want of
realization of the dreadful scenes through which I have passed since
yesterday. My husband--"
She threw herself upon his corpse again, and for a while her grief
recommenced with all its former violence. Smith soothed and comforted
her, and gradually was enabled to draw all the facts connected with the
murder from her unwilling lips.
"It is ten days since we arrived at Melbourne," she went on to say; "my
husband thought that we had better leave our two children at the city
with some friends, who were passengers in the same ship with ourselves,
until he had settled upon what occupation he should pursue. He had a
strong desire to try his luck at the mines, and as we had a little money
left after reaching this country, he invested it in buying a cart and
horse, and a few articles which were needed on the route. I was very
reluctant to part with my children, but I now perceive that it was for
the best; for it is probable that the little dears would have shared the
fate of their father, had they travelled with us. The chief object of
our visit to this country, however, was not so much a desire for wealth,
as the thought of meeting a parent whom I have been separated from since
I was a child."
She paused for a moment, and buried her face in her hands, as though
reluctant to proceed. Smith and I exchanged glances of surprise, while
the woman continued her rambling story.
"I am almost ashamed to say that my father was transported to Australia
for life; but he was innocent of the charge against him, and it has
since been made manifest; but government refuse to give him his liberty,
and he is still a convict."
"What was the charge upon which he was convicted?" asked Smith, with
breathless anxiety.
The woman hung her head and remained silent; and Smith was obliged to
repeat his question before he obtained an answer. His pertinacity seemed
cruel, but he had an object in view.
"He was charged with the death of my mother," she answered, her voice
stifled with tears.
"And your name before you were married was--"
"Mary Ogleton."
"It is the same," muttered Smith; but instead of revealing the good news
to her, he waited to hear the balance of her history since leaving
Melbourne. A few soothing words, and she continued,--
"Ten months since we had letters from my father, strongly urging us to
come to him, as he thought my husband would make a better living here
than in England. We were the more inclined to follow his advice, as the
letters contained drafts for money to help us pay our passage, which we
otherwise should not have been enabled to have done."
"Tell us about your journey since leaving the city," cried Smith, "for
we already know your history before that period."
She looked surprised, and continued,--
"Father wrote us that he was tending a flock of sheep on the road
leading to Ballarat, and that he could not leave his station even for a
day; but we were to write him if we intended coming, and he would have a
friend on the lookout for us. We answered his letter, saying that we
should embark on board of the first ship that sailed for Australia; but
when we reached port we found none to welcome us; and it was only after
diligent inquiries that we learned where he was located. Yesterday,
about noon, we thought that we must be near his home; and on inquiring
of a man that we met, he said that he knew him well, and would conduct
us to his hut. By his advice, we left the road which we had travelled
for four days, and struck across the prairie. I did not like the
appearance of our guide, and expressed my fears to my husband; but he
laughed at me, and placed implicit confidence in all that the stranger
said."
"What sort of looking man was your guide?" asked Smith.
"A dark-featured man, with long black beard, tall, and strongly framed.
Upon his forehead was a large scar, that looked as though recently
inflicted. I noticed him particularly, because I mistrusted him the
instant he offered to act as our guide."
"It was Black Darnley," cried Smith, in reply to my interrogation; "the
villain--he shall yet suffer for his treachery."
"That was the name by which his companions addressed him," cried the
woman, who overheard Smith's remark.
The convict encouraged her to continue her narrative, and motioned Fred
and myself to remain silent.
"He led us to the bank of this ravine, and said that we must here
abandon our team, and walk a few miles to father's hut. My husband
refused to follow his advice in that respect, and while Darnley was
urging him to do so, our dog, which had faithfully remained with us
since we left England, started in pursuit of a strange animal that
bounded along the prairie faster than the hound could run. We all became
interested in the chase, and when we lost sight of dog and animal, I
looked up and found five rough men close beside me. I started with
surprise; but before my husband could say a word, or use the gun which
he carried, Darnley discharged a pistol full at his breast, and he fell
dead. I remember nothing more, or, if I do, I pray to God that I may
soon forget it, or else join my husband in heaven. Were I childless, I
would dash my head against these rough stones, and so end my days."
As she finished her story, she bowed her head upon her husband's cold
bosom, and her tears flowed fast and freely, while her frame shook as
though she was laboring under an attack of ague.
"Listen to me," said Smith, at length, laying his hand upon her arm to
attract her attention: "we have a long journey before us, and time is
precious; but we will lose a day for the purpose of restoring you to
your father. Trust me, I know him, and if you think you can walk a few
miles, a few hours from now will see you in his arms."
"I am strong now," she said, rising, as though the news had given her
new life.
"Then lean on me, and I will assist you up this bank. Courage--remember
you live for your children and parent now."
As Smith offered his strong arm, she accepted it; but a sudden thought
took possession of her mind, and she quitted his side and once more
threw herself upon the body of her husband.
"I cannot leave him," she shrieked, clasping her arms around his neck,
and pressing her head upon his bosom. "He has been my only friend for
years; he did not despise me when he knew that my parent was a convict;
he has loved me, and is the father of my children. Let me remain with
him, and die upon his breast."
"This is madness," Fred cried, impatiently.
"Hush," said Smith. "Consider what the poor thing has suffered, and
treat her gently as a sister."
The stout convict, whose heart had been strongly touched by her story
and deep love, raised her in his arms, soothed her, spoke words of
comfort to her, and promised if she would but leave the spot, that the
body of her husband should soon follow her, and be buried in a
Christian-like manner.
She listened like one who did not comprehend his meaning, and all the
time that he was talking, her eyes were fixed upon the pale face of her
husband, as though she expected each moment to hear his voice, and see
him start to his feet, and open his arms for her protection.
With gentle force we urged her away from the distressing sight, and
when, after long labor, we had gained the bank of the ravine, we found
that the poor woman was nearly unconscious, and hardly capable of
moving.
"Where now?" I asked of Smith, as we carried her along.
"To the hut of Ogleton," he cried; "and then, if I mistake not, we shall
have work before us."
"What kind of work?" asked Fred, who was carrying the rifles, and the
sharp axe of the convict.
"The work of revenge," cried Smith, solemnly.
"I am ready for it," exclaimed Fred, brandishing his rifle; "God only
grant us all strength to perform it."
And as we staggered along the prairie with our burden, the dark clouds
in the east broke away, and revealed the glowing tints of the rising
sun; and a hundred bright-plumed birds darted through the air, awakening
the solitude of that vast plain with their shrill calls, and each cry
seemed to say, "Revenge! revenge!"