THE GHOST AND THE BUSHRANGERS.
The shepherd, who seemed to weigh all emotions by the scale of a body
snatcher, appeared to be delighted at the prospect of enjoying a little
excitement, and began to examine the priming of his long gun with a
degree of attention that showed how much reliance he intended placing
upon it in case of emergency.
"I look upon you two coveys in the light of visitors to my possessions,
and my honor is engaged to see that you come to no harm," cried the
undertaker's apprentice, with a wave of his right hand, as dignified as
though he owned the many acres indicated, instead of receiving only
about fifty pounds per annum, not including his sugar and coffee.
I think that I expressed a proper degree of gratitude for the shepherd's
promised protection, but I intimated that I had lived long enough in
Australia to learn how to protect myself.
"Never you mind that," continued the red-haired man, busying himself
with the bullock's head. "I shan't be wanting if a little fighting is to
be done."
"Then lend us your aid in leading the horses over the bridge, and don't
let us lose time in debating the project," I said, preparing to
undertake the expedition in company with Mr. Brown.
"Don't be in a hurry. Wait for me, 'cos I'm the most important one here
at present," continued Day, still working over the head which had so
frightened my friend and myself.
"If you think that your presence is so necessary, we will convince you
to the contrary by going without you," replied Mr. Brown, rather tartly.
"There you go," exclaimed the fellow, with perfect composure; "when I
intend to do all that I can to save you coveys from being shot and then
hung, you get as mad as foaming beer, and don't want to listen to
reason. Be guided by me, and things will come out all right."
"I am not so sure of that," I replied, with an incredulous air.
"Seeing is believing then. You ain't got some strings in your pocket,
have you?" our newly-found friend continued.
"Strings? no, we have something else to think about at the present
time," cried Mr. Brown.
"I'm sorry for that, 'cos a few rods of twine or tape, such as we use to
line coffins with, would be worth considerable just now."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I'll tell you in as few words as possible," the shepherd said, resting
from his work for a few seconds while speaking. "We three coveys ain't
no match for thirty coveys, is we?"
We acknowledged that there was a difference, and that it was favorable
to the side of the larger force.
"Very well; then it becomes necessary to deceive 'em, same as we use to
do when I was an apprentice in London, when master would put a body in a
pine coffin, all flourished off with paint and varnish, and then charge
it as cherry."
"What has that to do with the matter in hand?" I demanded impatiently.
"Much--I intend to make the bushrangers think, if we come in contact
with 'em, that they have got a ghost instead of a man to deal with, and
I needn't tell you how frightened they will be; you know that by your
own experience, don't you?"
There was no denying the assertion, however much disposed we might feel
to quarrel with such perfect frankness at the present time. At any rate,
we no longer manifested symptoms of impatience, but waited until Day had
secured the bones, which were somewhat loosened by the shot from my
pistol.
"I think that I've got strings enough arter all," he said, shaking the
head to see if it was firm and fit for use. "It 'pears all right, and I
think will answer."
He placed the huge mass of whitened bones upon his head, and then shook
it in a defiant manner, and I no longer wondered at our fright.
"There, I think that will do. Now let me first tie up my sheepskins, and
then we will start."
In a few minutes the sheepskins were secured in their proper places, and
Day stood before us a ghost of the first magnitude, and looking hideous
enough to frighten his Satanic Majesty himself had he been encountered
in the vicinity of Mount Tarrengower.
"I ain't got much beauty," Day said, while we were admiring him, "'cos I
trust to inside appearances. But don't I look lovely? as we use to say
at a first class funeral, when we had gone to some expense to get up the
body in pretty good style."
We assured the shepherd that his attractions were of the first order,
and that we appreciated his exertions in our behalf, and with these few
compliments we walked towards the bridge, the ghost leaving his long gun
behind.
"Ghosts," he said, in explanation, "is supposed to do unheard-of things,
but I doubt whether any regular one ever walked around the earth with a
gun; and if we should encounter the bushrangers, I think I should have
more influence unarmed, for to give the devils their due, they don't,
care a rush for the smell of gunpowder, while they is firm believers in
spirits, 'cos there is a sort of a tradition that a proprietor of a
sheep farm, who was murdered some years since, wanders round nights, and
makes himself generally disagreeable. I don't put any faith in the
stories, 'cos I don't believe that there ever was a ghost, excepting one
like me got up for the occasion."
The remark did not meet the approval of Mr. Brown, who was disposed to
argue the matter, but I cut the discussion short by recommending
silence, for fear of a party of scouts overhearing our conversation,
when not even the spectral appearance of the shepherd could have saved
us from a speedy death.
"You are right," replied the ghost, with a grave shake of his horny
head; "we can't be too cautious now, for we don't know who is near us."
By the time we reached the main land, the ghost whispered that he would
lead the way, and strike terror into the hearts of all who dared to look
upon him; and I think that he was as good as his word, for no sooner
did the horses got a glimpse of his white form than there was a
desperate attempt at a stampede; had not our animals been securely
fastened to palm trees by stout ropes we probably never should have seen
or heard of them again.
"Keep back," cried Mr. Brown, who was endeavoring to restrain his gray
horse from breaking away. "Don't come near the animals, or they will
make more noise than a hundred bushrangers."
The shepherd obeyed the order with a chuckle of delight, looking upon
the fright of the horses as the greatest compliment that could be paid
him, on the ground that animals were far better judges of supernatural
characters than men.
After we had tamed the brutes, we quickly gathered up our blankets and
provisions, and then replaced the pack upon the horse and started
towards the island. We were hastened somewhat in our movement by a sound
which my experience told me was a signal much used by bushrangers when
desirous of calling in or extending their scouts. I had heard it before,
when first on my way to the mines from Melbourne, and I could not help,
in spite of all the trials and difficulties that surrounded me, from
recalling those days, and wondering how we escaped being cut off to a
man by Black Darnley and his gang.
"Drive on the horses as fast as possible," whispered the shepherd.
"Them 'ere parrot crawings means, is the coast clear?"
I needed no urging, knowing as I did that the pretended squaking of
parrots was produced by human beings, but hardly had the shepherd
spoken, when away off to our left the cry was taken up.
"That's an answer," cried Day, listening attentively. "They report all
right as yet."
By this time we had reached the bridge, and sought to urge our animals
to cross, but they had some experience with the bogs of Australia, and
stoutly refused to trust themselves on such a narrow strip of earth. We
were almost in despair of saving the brutes, and to add to our anxiety,
we could hear the bushrangers' signals from all parts of the forest, as
the scouts gradually closed in to join the main body, who were, I
doubted not, feasting on mutton, for the perfume of boiled meat greeted
us, wafted towards the island by a light breeze which was hardly strong
enough to dispel the clouds of mosquitoes hovering over us, ferocious
for blood, and tantalizing enough to drive men frantic with agony.
"You won't get the horses to cross until you cover their eyes," the
ghost said. "They have probably been mired some time or other, and know
a bog as well as you. Don't waste precious time by fooling with the
animals."
We thought the advice was good, and we adopted it without delay, by
tying our pocket handkerchiefs over the eyes of the animals, and in this
condition I led my horse over the bridge, followed by Mr. Brown with the
packed animal The ghost, having removed his head gear, held the gray
while we were so employed.
We were obliged to proceed with great caution, for fear of a mis-step on
the part of the animals, but fortunately we reached the island without
an accident, but as we did so we heard a shrill croak from beneath the
very palms where we had encamped. The call was repeated in a dozen
different directions, and then all was quiet, and not the rustling of a
leaf could be heard to show that a large body of men were all tending to
one point to investigate the cause of the alarm, and study over the
mysteries of our encampment.
We secured our animals in a small valley at the further end of the
island, and then returned cautiously to the bridge for the purpose of
relieving the ghost of his distress, but, to our surprise, Mr. Brown's
gray horse and the supernatural gentleman were not to be seen.
"If the d----d humbug has not run off with my horse!" muttered my
friend, indignant at his loss.
"I don't believe it," I replied; "he has probably retired to the shade
of those palm trees, seeing that no chance presented itself for getting
the animal to us."
"I hope so," Mr. Brown said, "but fear the fellow is a horse thief, and
having accomplished his object, will never return to this locality."
I didn't think so, but there was no use attempting to convince Mr. Brown
of his error, and while we were discussing the matter, we had the
supreme dissatisfaction of seeing ten well-armed men _debouch_ from the
group of palm trees, and, with heads bent to the ground, follow the
tracks of our horses towards the bridge.
"We are in a pretty condition for a siege," muttered my friend as he
thought of the bushrangers attempting to starve us into a surrender,
knowing very well that they would never attack us in our almost
invulnerable position.
"Be quiet, and let us watch their motions," I replied.
We were not so far from the main land but we could hear every word if
spoken in an ordinary tone, for, as I said before, the night was
unusually calm and quiet.
"D----n it, don't I know a horse's track from a bullock's?" we heard one
of the bushrangers say, as though he was remonstrating with his
companions. "I tell you here's the prints of three horses' feet, and
I'll leave it to any native in Australia. I've taken lessons from 'em in
my lifetime, I have."
If the fellow's story was correct, he could not have learned from a more
patient race, for the Australians can track a man through a wilderness,
and can see signs of footprints that a European would never discover. If
a blade of grass is turned, the native stops and examines it, and can
tell within a few hours the length of time that has expired since it was
trodden on. If half a dozen grains of sand are displaced from the
burning prairies, the native sets himself at work, and can tell what
kind of an animal has passed that way, and whether fat or lean, alarmed
or unconcerned. They can find their way through a wilderness, and resist
hunger and thirst with marvellous fortitude; and while others sink under
the influence of burning heat, the native Australian, with head bare,
seems to court the rays of the sun, and moves along with a steady step,
and without a word of complaint.
I no longer wondered at the assurance of the bushranger when he
proclaimed himself a disciple of Australian barbarians.
"Will any man in his senses believe that the horses have crossed that
narrow strip?" demanded one of the fellows, pointing to the bridge; "I
know the horses of this country too well to believe that they like bogs
so well as to venture there."
"I tell you that two of the horses have crossed to that island!" cried
the first speaker, after stooping down and examining the ground; "here,
see for yourself!"
The robbers gathered around the spot indicated, and we could hear them
converse in low tones for a few minutes, and look suspiciously towards
the island, where we were hid from observation by a number of large
rocks.
"If two of the horses has gone to the island, whar is the other?" cried
a voice, more gruff and savage than the others.
No one seemed disposed to answer that question, and for a few seconds
there was a profound silence.
"I tell you what it is, coveys, I don't care about staying in this
neighborhood long, 'cos I heard a brother pal say once, that ever since
old Buckerly was knocked on the head he has wandered round here with a
sheet of flame in one hand, a spear in the other, and a pair of horns on
his head, to show that he was in the cattle trade when finished."
There was a faint laugh at the suspicious man's story, but I noticed
that their expressions of mirth were not overflowing.
"Pooh! you don't believe such d----d lies, do you?" one fellow asked.
"Never you mind what I believe," said the story teller, with a
dogmatical emphasis.
"Well, we had better be doing something, or else return to the camp and
get a bit to eat; I'm tired of tramping all day and getting no plunder,"
cried one, who didn't seem to be in a good humor.
"Hullo! one horse went off in this direction!" cried the fellow who was
following up the trail.
The gang gathered round the speaker, and satisfied themselves that such
was the case, and then we could see them gazing with some degree of
apprehension upon the dark palms.
"Who's going there to make a search?" one asked.
"Not I," said one.
"Nor I."
"Nor I."
"Fools, are you afraid of your own shadows?" demanded one robber, more
bold than the others.
"I don't fear any man, if he comes at me single, but I don't like
fighting with the devil and his imps!" exclaimed the superstitious
bushranger, and I judged that a majority of his comrades sided with his
idea, and seemed much more disposed to return to camp than to weary
themselves with a search for unknown foes.
"You know what the cap'n will say if we go back without a good report.
It's easier for us to work now, than to scout over the whole ground
again," we heard the man who had followed the trail say.
"Yes, but why don't he take some work and do it?" demanded another, who
was disposed to grumble at the order of things.
"You had better ask him," some one answered, dryly.
"Not I," was the response; "I value my head too dearly."
The others laughed, and for a few minutes held a whispered conversation,
the burden of which seemed to be that there was something concealed
beneath the branches of the palm trees, and that it was advisable to
make an examination as soon as possible, but no one was disposed to lead
the way, for reasons--first, if an enemy, and well armed, he could
easily kill two or three of his assailants before discovery, and second,
the robbers were not sure but that there was truth in the story of their
comrade concerning the ghost of Buckerly, and if there was, they did not
care about an encounter with a spirit from the other world, who was
proof against powder, steel, and lead.
While they were still discussing the question in tones so low that we
could not hear all that passed, I thought how materially we could be
aided by the shepherd, if he was so disposed.
I was almost fearful that Mr. Brown's suspicions were correct, and that
he left us to take care of ourselves, while he made his escape on my
friend's valuable horse, worth, at any station, about fifty pounds.
"Look," cried my companion, nudging me with his elbow; "the devils have
made up their minds to run the risk, and search for the horse in the
shadow of the palm trees."
As he spoke, I saw the gang move forward in a compact body, as though
borrowing encouragement from each other, and one or two pretended to
laugh, as if scorning all apprehensions, but I thought that the mirth
did not come from their hearts.
When about midway between the trees and the bridge, I observed them halt
suddenly, and while I was wondering for what, forth, from amid the
leaves and branches of the palms, rode a figure that loomed up in the
moonlight in colossal proportions.
For a moment I forgot that the shepherd was acting the part of a ghost,
and I felt, a little of the old symptoms return, but they were soon
banished, and then I was prepared to enjoy the rich treat of seeing how
other men acted when dealing with what was supposed to be a visitant
from the other world.
For a moment not a sound escaped the group, as the tall figure of the
shepherd, mounted on the gray horse, moved slowly and majestically
towards them. Presently I heard one fellow utter a yell of terror, and
break away from his companions, and run wildly towards the camp--then
another followed, and then another, until the remaining ones turned,
and, with shrieks and yells of horror, followed the first fugitive as
rapidly as their legs could carry them.
A number of the most timid threw away their guns, and every thing that
impeded flight, and although the ghost did not depart from his grave and
dignified bearing, and solemn walk, yet in less than five minutes no one
was in sight except the cause of the fright, our new friend, Day.