RETURN TO THE STOCKMAN'S HUT.--SMITH IN LOVE.
The bushrangers were struck with awe at the sudden death of their chief,
and made no resistance as they were bound in pairs. Indeed their
audacity appeared to desert them, although they maintained a sulken
aspect until they got a glimpse of Steel Spring, who, to prevent
mistakes had been bound to a tree, while we secured his comrades.
The glances of hate and scorn which were cast upon their betrayer
appeared to have no effect upon his well-tried nerves, and he seemed to
act as though he had done his duty and was not ashamed of it, and didn't
care who knew the part which he had played in the drama. The death of
Nosey, however, appeared to astonish Steel Spring, for when he was
allowed to see the body he grew pathetic.
"So old Nosey is dead!" he exclaimed, looking upon the face of the
wretch; "veil, he vas a vonderful man, and used to rob more peoples
than hany bushranger in those parts; ve shall miss him, I know ve shall
miss him; and vere shall ve find a man to take his place?"
"Do you still think of robbery?" demanded Murden, sternly.
"No, sir; I vouldn't take a shillin' from a traveller to save my life.
But ven I thinks of the times ve've had, I feels like shedding tears! A
vonderful man vas Nosey; so 'andsome, too!"
"Cease your nonsense, and answer me one or two questions," Murden said;
"the gang has plundered for months; do you know where they concealed
their money?"
"I'm blessed if I do," replied Steel Spring, with alacrity.
"Do you think that our prisoners know?"
"Veil, that feller who is looking at me so cross, as though I'd hinjured
him, could tell if he'd got a mind to," replied Steel Spring, pointing
to a robber who seemed to be regarded as a sort of leader, now that
Nosey was dead.
"Are you disposed to inform me where Nosey buried his money?" asked
Murden, appealing to the man.
"And what inducements do you hold out, if I give you the information?"
asked the robber, dryly.
"I do not promise you your life, but I think that I can get the sentence
put off a few months," the lieutenant replied.
"And you suppose that I will reveal on such conditions?" demanded the
bushranger, impudently.
"I do; you have every thing to gain, and nothing to lose."
"My life, I suppose, you call nothing; that is already forfeited, you
seem to think; but you shall find that, robber as I am, I know how to
keep a secret."
"Then you refuse to divulge?"' asked Murden.
The bushranger regarded him with a scornful air, and remained silent.
Murden grew excited, and forgot that he was only an humble instrument of
the law, and that life and death were not at his disposal after men had
surrendered.
"Throw a tackle over the branch of yonder tree," he said, pointing to a
sturdy gum tree which grew near; "we will save the courts of Melbourne
the trouble of trying the fellow."
The bushranger did not seem surprised, or appear to be affected at the
news.
Not so the policemen; they knew that their officer was exceeding his
authority, but their discipline was too good to allow them to cavil at
his orders, right or wrong.
They threw a rope over the shrub pointed out, and then making a
slip-noose, passed it around the neck of the obstinate robber. Still he
wore his scornful look, and did not even ask for mercy, which Murden had
evidently anticipated.
"Will you reveal?" demanded the lieutenant.
"No!" he yelled: and with his refusal was a gesture of the most impudent
and insulting nature.
"Up with him, men!" cried the officer, beside himself with passion.
The men tugged at the rope, but with all their strength they could not
raise the man from the ground, owing to the cord being passed over a
limb, instead of through a block, the friction was too great.
Smith, during all of this time, had been a spectator, instead of an
actor in the tragedy; but when he saw that the policemen were unable to
carry their designs into effect, he appeared to recollect the death of
his oxen, and to think that the present was an excellent time to avenge
their death.
He rushed to the rope, and pulled away at it with such good will that
the bushranger was raised from the ground a few inches, and by the
spasmodic movement of his feet, I saw that he was choking, and could
exist but a few minutes longer.
"Are you mad?" I asked of Murden; "you have no authority to hang the
man; the courts of Melbourne will make a noise about the matter, be
assured."
The lieutenant appeared to reflect, and seemed to think that my advice
was worthy of being taken, for he waved his hand, and the nearly
strangled man was lowered to the ground, much to the disgust of Smith,
who appeared to think that he was cheated of his prey.
"Once more, I ask you to reveal the hiding-place of the treasure," the
officer said, when he found that the robber had sufficiently recovered
to answer his question.
"I refused when a rope was tightened around my neck, did I not?" the
bushranger asked, in a gasping manner.
Murden nodded his head in token of assent.
"And do you think that, after being half choked to death, I'll reveal
now?" he demanded, in an indignant tone; "I'll see you and your cowardly
police d----d first; and sooner or later I know that you will be."
"Up with him again!" cried the angry lieutenant; but his rage was only
momentary, and before the men could put his order into execution, he
countermanded it.
"You are too impudent a scoundrel to die immediately; a few months'
solitary confinement in the prison at Melbourne, with nothing but bread
and water to eat, and the certain prospect of a long, lingering death,
will tame your spirit, and make you docile."
"Do you think so?" asked the bushranger, with a sneer.
Murden made no reply.
"If I am placed in solitary confinement," the robber said, "I shall have
the more time to think upon the many poor devils who have begged their
lives of me, and yet never got their prayers granted. I shall think of
the meet revenge I have had for my injuries during a long term of
imprisonment at the hulks. I shall think of the many pounds of gold dust
which I have robbed from passing trains; and better than all, I shall
laugh to know that the police force of Melbourne cannot find it to
enrich themselves."
"Devil!" yelled one of the men, more fiery than the rest, "do you mock
us?"
He raised his carbine, and with no gentle hand let the breech fall upon
the fellow's head. The blow loosened the skin, and let loose a torrent
of blood.
"Yes, this is a fair sample of the manner in which the police of
Melbourne treat prisoners. Is there any wonder that they fight
desperately to prevent being taken?"
He dipped his finger into his blood, and held it aloft for his comrades
to see. Had those men been free, our number would have been lessened in
a very few minutes; for such expressions of rage passed over their
faces, that it seemed as though the devil had entered their bodies.
"You did wrong to strike him, Manuel," Murden said, and that was all the
reproof the man received.
"When I'm arraigned before my judges, I shall tell them of the blow,"
muttered the bushranger, wiping the blood from his brow.
"Do so, if you think it will help your case any," answered Murden,
indifferently. "When you get before the judges you speak of, let me
advise you to keep a civil tongue, however, or the worse for you."
"I shall speak my mind," replied the bushranger, who appeared determined
to have the last word.
Orders were now given to get ready for our passage through the woods;
but before we started we threw the bodies of the dead robbers into the
hut, and then set it on fire. Long before the flames ceased, we were
safe out of the woods, and mounted on our horses, heading towards the
old convict's hut.
Our travel was slow, as the bushrangers were compelled to walk with
their hands tied behind their backs, and it was only by threatening to
ride them down, that we could get them to move at any kind of decent
pace.
Smith, whose whole ideas were concentrated on his lost cattle, left us
to see if he could find one yoke which were unaccounted for. When we
entered the woods in search of the gold buried by Jim Gulpin, we had
left two yoke hitched to the cart and a tree, and after our severe
ordeal of fire, we had found two oxen burned to death, while two more
were missing.
Thinking that, they might have wandered to the corral where the
remainder of the cattle were confined, Smith galloped across the prairie
and was soon out of sight. He did not rejoin us until we reached the
hut, where we found that he had regained his oxen, and was paying
considerably more attention to the old stockman's daughter than to his
own affairs.
There was one thing which he deserved credit for, and it was accorded
him with all our hearts. The supper which he provided was capable of
making us forget our pains and fatigue; for a roasted lamb was smoking
on a table, and three or four gallons of coffee were all ready to be
drank, to restore us to new life.
All the articles which we had left at the hut were found in good order,
and nothing was missing. It may seem strange that a stockman's hovel,
miles away from other habitations, should escape the assaults of
bushrangers; but the latter knew their own interests too well to meddle
with keepers of sheep and cattle.
Many stockmen are in league with escaped convicts, and give them the
earliest information in regard to the pursuit or routes of policemen;
and although such a charge could not be brought against my friend, the
old convict, yet the bushrangers knew that if he was molested or
injured, the owners of the animals under his charge would find it very
hard work to fill his place, and be forced in the end to drive their
herds to other grazing spots. Hence, the supply of provisions which the
bushrangers were in the habit of always considering secure, would have
been cut off, and uncertain means resorted to.
The only instance of attack on my friend's house, on record, was when
Jim Gulpin and his band required the surrender of a number of policemen
sheltered within its walls. The result of that assault is well known to
the readers of these sketches; so I will not review the circumstances.
During our absence the old man's daughter, or, in other words, Mrs.
Becky Lang, had attended to her few household duties, and also watched
our cattle, to prevent their straying from the corral. She had supplied
them with water from the small stream, and in every respect behaved like
a courageous woman, as she was. She had, apparently, recovered from the
deepest of her grief on account of the loss of her husband, and her full
ruddy cheek gave ample tokens of good health.
I saw that Smith was more attentive on our return than perhaps there was
any occasion for; and I also noticed that the woman appeared anxious
that he should have the best of every thing, and helped him twice to our
once.
There was no occasion for our complaining, however, although we did joke
Smith upon the conquest he had made, and asked if he had named the happy
day; questions which he took in very good part, in spite of the blushes
which mantled his sun-burned face.
That evening I offered my sincere congratulations, when Smith, after a
confused account of what he wanted to do, informed me with an air of
secrecy, that he had spoken to Becky, and that she had returned an
answer that she thought she could make him happy the remainder of his
life.
"But when is the wedding to take place?" I asked, coolly lighting my
pipe; for the reader will please to note that it was not I who
contemplated the awful act, and therefore I could condole with other
people's woes with great equanimity.
"Well, I'd like to have it take place immediately, but there's no parson
near," replied Smith, with great deliberation and solemnity.
Like all lovers, he wished to hasten his fate, and have the affair off
his mind.
"But what will you do with your wife while absent with a load at the
mines?" I asked.
"O, we've fixed all that--Becky and I have. She will live at our house
in Melbourne, where she can be nice and comfortable, until I'm rich
enough to start some kind of business in the city, when I can remain at
home and enjoy her society."
I looked at the man, and actually compared him to a young lover, sighing
at the first thoughts of his mistress, and picturing to himself how
happy he could be with her in a cottage.
I filled my pipe afresh, and smoked for a few minutes in silence.
"Becky tells me that she took a fancy to me on the night that Gulpin
assaulted the house. She thought I acted like a man on that trying
occasion." Ungrateful Beck, to thus forget the valuable services of
Fred and myself. Love had indeed blinded her, for all that was noble and
generous was centred in Smith.
"Well, Smith," I said, extending my hand, "I give you joy, and hope that
nothing will ever occur to disturb your happiness. I should like to be
present at the ceremony, but I fear that it will be impossible."
"I don't know as it is so very difficult. There are parsons at the
mines, and Ballarat is nearer than Melbourne."
I knew what he wanted me to do, but I feared that we should waste too
much valuable time. He looked hard at me to see if I was not intending
to urge him to take the lady with us, but as I smoked on in silence, he
did not continue the conversation.
We were all tired enough at sundown to stretch our weary limbs upon the
ground, and endeavor to sleep in peace for one night. To prevent our
being surprised, sentinels were stationed around the hut, with orders to
keep their eyes open, and report if any thing of a suspicious character
was seen.
Whether they acted up to the orders is more than I know, but of one
thing I'm positive. After I rested my head upon my knapsack, I did not
awaken until I felt a hand laid upon my shoulder, when, starting up, I
found that Murden was standing by my side.
"Day is just breaking," he said; "I am sorry to disturb you, but you
know we must be on the march to Melbourne by sunrise. Have breakfast
with us for the last time, and then we'll to the saddle."
I could not resist the temptation, and when I had packed my blankets, I
found that the policemen had nearly completed their arrangements for
breakfast, and were feeding the prisoners with the remnants of last
night's repast.
Coffee was swallowed hastily, and then the clear, ringing notes of the
bugle gave the signal for bringing up the horses.
"You surely don't intend to make these poor devils walk all the way?" I
asked of the lieutenant, just before he started.
"They will have to walk until we come across teams on the road to
Melbourne, and then I shall let them ride. There is no other way that I
can do," he replied.
Even while we were talking, the bugle sounded to mount, so anxious were
the men to reach the city.
"There will be a large amount of money placed to your credit," Murden
said. "Remember that each bushranger killed or taken prisoner is worth
one hundred pounds."
"We hope we shall never be poor enough to ask for it," Fred replied.
"I hope that you never will be in want, certainly," Murden said, "but I
do hope that your sensibilities will not prevent you from accepting that
which is legally your own. I have no time to argue with you more, but in
less than a month I shall be at Ballarat, when we will further discuss
the subject."
"You will have business there at that time?" I asked.
"I think that I shall. The miners have suddenly become convinced that it
is not right to pay government taxes for the privilege of digging gold.
Nothing serious has occurred as yet; but how long the storm will hold
off is quite uncertain."
"This is all news to me," Fred said, after a short pause, "and I hardly
know how to act under the circumstances. We have no desire to violate
your laws, or to foster rebellion, and I have half a mind to abandon our
enterprise for the present."
"I should be happy to see you both residents of Melbourne, but I cannot
advise you to turn from the course you have marked out. Go to the mines
and satisfy yourselves that the labor of gold digging is the hardest
labor that you ever undertook, and that a week of such work is
sufficient to convince you of the fact."
We resolved to follow Murden's advice, and were about to bid him
farewell, when he added,--"If you conclude to remain at the mines, write
me a full account of how matters stand, and what you think of the
demands of the miners. I can rely upon you, for you have not mingled
with the men, and of course do not at present sympathize with them. I do
not ask the favor because I wish you to act the part of a spy, but
simply for my own gratification."
We promised faithfully to keep him advised of our movements, and also
those of the disaffected part of the residents of Ballarat, and with a
hearty shake of his hand, Murden wheeled his horse and galloped after
his command, which had been gone some time.
"Now, Smith, we are once more dependent upon ourselves. Shall we first
go after our cart, and repair it, or do you feel like resting for a day
or two?"
"Well, I don't know," answered Smith, in response to Fred's question. "I
feel as though I should like to rest for a few hours; you see the
confounded hole where we roosted was so hot, that I'm pretty nearly used
up."
I saw through his design, but concluded not to notice it. Like all
lovers, he hated to tear himself from the idol of his heart, and thought
that a few hours might alleviate his pain.
"Well, we'll postpone our trip until to-morrow, and to be certain that
we shall be ready then, we will take two yoke of cattle and bring up the
team and repair it. Had we not lost that bag of gold which we have
wasted so much time for, I think that we should have bought you a new
cart, of later pattern."
Fred spoke jestingly, and yet not without a sigh at the magnitude of our
loss. The old stockman, who was seated on a bench at his door, overheard
the conversation, and interrupted us.
"Who says the gold is lost?" he asked.
"We all do," replied Fred; "the bag was not to be found where Jack
placed it."
"I know that," the old man answered, with a silent chuckle.
"How do you know that it was gone!' I demanded.
"Why, because when you threw it down, I picked it up, and made my way
out of the woods as fast as possible."
"And the bushrangers took it from you?" I demanded.
"I didn't say so," the stockman replied, coolly.
"You don't mean to tell me that the money is safe?" asked Fred.
"Well, I should think it was, because I don't believe that any
bushranger would discover the place where I hid it." "Bless your old
heart!" cried Smith, slapping him on the shoulder; "you are worth a
dozen of us young ones. But why didn't you say something about it
before?"
"And let those police fellers share with us? No, no; I know too much for
that; they would have required at least half the amount found, and I
didn't think my young friends here would be willing to be bled to such
an extent. They shall have the money, and can do as they please. I have
redeemed my word; I promised to assist them, for they have assisted me;
and when I have placed the gold in their hands, I shall think that I
have only paid them a small portion of the debt which I owe them."
We were too much surprised and delighted to speak for some time, for the
recovery of the money was something we were not prepared for.