SUPPER.--RETURN OF MR. WRIGHT'S SCOUTS.
The room into which Mr. Wright conducted us was on the ground floor, and
was about thirty feet deep and fifteen feet wide. Around the walls were
hung skins of kangaroos, stuffed parrots, and other birds of gaudy
plumage, while confined in brackets were old muskets in sufficient
quantities to frighten all the natives of Australia, but their
appearance, imposing as they were, would not have sufficiently impressed
a bushranger of nerve into the belief that they were dangerous, even if
loaded with their proper quantum of powder and lead.
We had hardly crossed the threshold of the building when a shrill voice
greeted us with,--
"D----n bushrangers--d----n bushrangers--caught at last!--ha, ha!--I
knew it!--I said so!--steal sheep, will you?"
We started back at such a reception, and Mr. Brown began to mutter
something about "gratuitous insults," when Mr. Wright pointed to a
remarkably large parrot that was roosting on the back of a chair,
surveying us with quiet dignity, and evidently with considerable worldly
wisdom.
Our anger vanished, and we made immediate overtures to Poll, for the
purpose of establishing a firm friendship, but our advances were met
with dignified coolness, while Day, who attempted to scratch the bird's
head, got severely bitten for his pains.
"D----n the beast!" muttered the shepherd, rubbing his finger.
"That's right--swear! D----n it, why don't you swear? Sheep stealers!
Who robs people? Ha, ha! Set the dogs on 'em!"
"A precocious parrot," said Mr. Wright, "and he is indebted for his
profanity to my men, who learn him much that is bad, and little that is
good, and to tell the truth, he learns the former much more readily than
the latter."
"In which he closely resembles our policemen," muttered the
ex-inspector.
"These gentlemen are my friends," said Mr. Wright, addressing the
parrot, and formally presenting us for its distinguished consideration.
"O, friends, hey?" croaked the bird, eyeing us sharply; "why didn't you
say so before? give Toll something; pretty Poll!"
We were unable to comply with the request, and the parrot didn't spare
us in his denunciations for our illiberality, and to relieve us, Mr.
Wright proposed that we should visit his private apartment and change
our clothes, seeing that we stood in need of different raiment very
much, and having none of our own at hand.
The room into which we were shown was used as a sleeping apartment and
wardrobe by the proprietor of the station, and while it contained but
few of the luxuries of civilized life, it was not entirely destitute of
a comfortable appearance.
In one corner was a rude bedstead, with a hair mattress and blankets, a
looking glass of miniature dimensions, a rifle of English pattern, heavy
and cumbersome, a pair of splendid duelling pistols, a long sword with
basket hilt, and a bowie knife.
"Here's where I sit and read, and sometimes write," said our host,
throwing open a window to enable us the better to see his treasures; "my
library is small, and I seldom make additions to it, but the few books
which I have are like friends whom I can trust, old and true. Now I
desire that you shall change your garments, and if you wish, take a bath
before supper."
The proposition which our host made was not to be neglected, for my skin
felt as though parched in an oven, and my clothes were so scorched that
they were ready to fall to pieces. We did not scruple, therefore, to
avail ourselves of the courtesy of Mr. Wright, and after a wash in a
huge hogshead, that was used for bathing purposes, we once more found
ourselves comfortable, with clean garments, and when we were dressed
supper was announced.
Day, who had participated in our toils and struggles, and whom we had
learned to regard with considerable affection, declined seating himself
at the table with us, and all our urging did not overcome his
diffidence, although backed by Mr. Wright, but, I must confess, rather
feebly, and it was so evident that the farmer did not care about the
company of Day that I no longer urged it.
"I saw the fire that is raging in the woods early this morning," Mr.
Wright said, when he saw that our appetites were slightly checked, "and
I feared that it would spread this way, and so gave orders to drive in
the cattle and pen them up until all danger was passed. I was more
willing to do this from the fact that my two Australians reported
bushrangers in the vicinity, and that, after hovering around for a day
or two, they had left for Mount Tarrengower."
While Mr. Wright was speaking, we could hear roars of laughter in the
next room, which seemed to be the kitchen.
"My men are at their supper, and I suppose that your follower, whom some
of my people tell me belongs at the next station, is amusing them with
his wonderful adventures."
"He is as honest a fellow as ever lived, and has served us most
faithfully. Without his aid we should not have escaped the fury of as
savage a flock of bushrangers as ever roamed through the woods of
Australia."
I spoke with some warmth, for I considered that Day deserved as good
treatment as ourselves.
"I don't doubt his honesty or his bravery," returned our host, dryly,
"but I am compelled to believe that if you knew how much I have to
contend with here in the wilderness, hardly knowing friend from foe, and
desired to treat all alike, I am sure that you would not think hard of
me if I did desire to exclude the shepherd from the table. Be assured
that he is happier where he is, and when another stockman visits my farm
he will not be expected to sit at the same table with myself. Discipline
is what keeps my men in subjection."
Another roar of laughter from the kitchen, and the servant who attended
upon our table entered the apartment with a broad grin upon his face.
"Well, Jackson, something is going on in the kitchen that amuses you as
well as the rest," Mr. Wright said.
"Yes, sir; that covey from the other station is telling the funniest
things about his playing ghost, and frightening bushrangers into fits.
He's a wild 'un, and no mistake."
A sudden darkness and pattering of rain drops outside told us that the
storm had begun, and we felt thankful that we were under shelter for the
night.
"Tell the men who are on duty to look well to the cattle, and then make
themselves comfortable for the night," our host said, addressing the
man, who seemed to be Mr. Wright's especial attendant.
The person alluded to departed on his errand, and while he was gone we
surveyed the heavens from the windows, and found that the clouds were
black and full of moisture, while the rain was descending in torrents.
"Let it continue this way for an hour or two, and I shall have the
pleasure of your company for a day or two at least," Mr. Wright said,
apparently pleased with the thought.
"Why so?" I asked.
"Because the Loddon will be impassable, and resemble no more the quiet
river such as you saw to-day than to-morrow morning will resemble the
present moment. But come, let us return to the table, and have our
coffee and pipes; cigars I have, if you prefer them."
But no one desired them, for after once getting acclimated to pipes,
cigars are of a secondary consideration.
We again took seats at the table, and lighting our pipes, sipped some of
the excellent coffee at our leisure, and while the storm raged without,
we talked and chatted of the past with as much freedom as though we had
been friends all our lifetime.
Lights were brought, and the heavy window shutters closed, and we drew
our chairs nearer to each other as the wind howled around the stout
building, and the lightning played in the air with extraordinary
vividness as the darkness increased.
"This storm will soon extinguish the fire in the brush," Mr. Wright
said, "and I shall not be sorry to know that my wheat is no longer in
danger of being consumed by fierce flames, instead of hungry men. Ah,
well, I have seen many fires raging since I settled on the thousand
acres that I own, but somehow I have escaped much injury, excepting
once."
"Let us hear the particulars; a story will suit me above all things at
this time," I said.
"There is not much of a story connected with the matter, and I'm a poor
hand at a yarn, but such as it is you shall have."
He touched a bell, and his attendant entered as promptly as though
serving in a first class hotel, and had been trained to the business all
his lifetime.
"Is the punch ready?" asked our host.
"Yes, sir."
"Bring it in, then, and clear the table of dishes."
A bowl holding about a gallon was placed upon the table, and the fumes
of the Santa Cruz rum were grateful to our nostrils. Mr. Brown rubbed
his hands with glee, and was impatient to begin the attack.
"Give the men a stiff glass of grog all round, and when I want you I
will ring," said Mr. Wright to the servant.
The man bowed, and left the room to make the hearts of the laborers
happy by announcing the gift.
Mr. Wright filled his glass and was about to commence his story, after
wetting his lips with the punch, when Jackson suddenly entered the room.
"Well?" asked Mr. Wright, with some surprise.
"Kala and Iala have returned, and desire to see you immediately, sir."
"What is the matter?" asked our host, with visible uneasiness.
"They have seen footprints in the bush, sir," was the brief rejoinder.
"The devil they have. Let them come in and report." And while Jackson
was absent Mr. Wright remained in a thoughtful mood.
Jackson was absent about five minutes, when he returned, ushering in two
natives of Australia, whose names were Kala and Iala. They were
bareheaded, and the water was running down their necks in miniature
streams, while their long, straight hair hung over their shoulders and
faces, almost concealing their deep-set, large, piercing eyes, which
were fixed upon us in amazement. Their legs and arms were bare, and did
not look larger than those of a child, while their long, bony feet were
entirely unprotected by shoes or sandals, yet they were so hardened that
the tooth of a serpent would have broken in an attempt to bite through
the skin.
"Well, Kala, what news?" asked Mr. Wright of the native who appeared to
be the spokesman. He spoke in the language of the Australians, but as
the reader is not supposed to understand it I shall interpret it, as Mr.
Wright did for us.
"We have been in the bush," was the brief rejoinder.
"And what did you see?" was asked.
"We go many miles from here on the trail leading to the big village,"
Kala said.
"Go on."
"We see many tracks, and we followed them."
"In which direction?" demanded Mr. Wright, eagerly.
"Come this way," the native said.
"Did you see the people?" asked our host.
"How many?"
"Six," Kala answered, holding up one of his fingers.
"Bushrangers?" our host continued.
At this question the two natives seemed puzzled, and they looked at each
other as though wondering what answer they should return.
"Two of them were not men," at length the native said.
"Boys?" suggested Mr. Wright.
The faintest shadow of a smile stole over their faces as Kala replied,--
"No boys. Wear things like shirt round legs, and funny hats on heads."
"Why, darn it, the rascals mean women," cried our host, with some energy
and considerable relief.
"Yes," was the prompt reply of Kala.
"They won't hurt you, man, unless they happen to fall in love with your
black skin and marry you. Then I'd not be responsible for your head."
"Men have long guns, and little guns in belts," continued Kala.
"Pooh!" said Mr. Wright, turning to us and refilling our glasses, "the
poor fellows have got frightened at their shadows. They have seen a
small party of miners on their way to Ballarat, and it's probable that
they have missed the direct road and got on one of the numerous trails
which sometimes puzzle the best stockmen. They will find their way out
after a fashion, although this is rather a hard night for exposing
females. You can go," he said, addressing the two natives, but the men
still lingered as though not satisfied with their visit.
"Miners no kill children," Kala exclaimed, briefly.
"How? Who has killed children?" demanded Mr. Wright, setting his glass
upon the table, its contents untouched.
Mr. Brown pricked up his ears and listened, for he had a slight
knowledge, of the aboriginal language, and understood a portion of the
conversation.
"Men take child and throw against a tree. No cry more," Kala said.
"The brutes!" muttered Mr. Wright, struck with consternation at the
atrocity of the deed.
"Four men, two women," continued Kala, holding up his fingers for us to
count. "All come this way, and seem in a hurry. Women cry, and men
swear; men make them ride on horses to go fast."
"This is news indeed," Mr. Wright said, turning to us, "and I hardly
know what to make of it. Can you solve the riddle?" addressing Mr.
Brown.
"It is plain," my friend rejoined. "A party of miners have been attacked
by the bushrangers, and the latter are now endeavoring to escape with
two women prisoners. The fellows probably belong to Tyrell's gang, and
will make towards Mount Tarrengower to join him."
The solution seemed probable, and for a few moments there was a profound
silence. The natives glanced from face to face as though endeavoring to
read the thoughts of the white men, although they did not appear much
distressed at the events which they had related.
"I pity the poor women," remarked Mr. Wright, at length. "Their fate
will be a sad one, and death a welcome release from their sufferings."
"Can't you make an effort for their release?" I asked, but our host
shook his head.
"The night is dark and stormy," he said, "and it's impossible to tell
where the party, is at the present time. To-morrow we may be able to do
something."
"To-morrow will be too late," replied Mr. Brown. "The rogues by that
time will have joined the main body of the gang, and will laugh at our
efforts to dislodge them from their rendezvous on the mountains."
Still our host did not seem impressed with the idea that we could afford
the unfortunate females relief, although I judged that his disposition
to do so was strong.
"Ask Kala if he thinks that he can find the fellow's trail to-night, and
promise him from me a pound of tobacco and a bottle of rum if he
succeeds," Mr. Brown said, addressing Mr. Wright.
The message was conveyed to the natives, and Kala's eyes sparkled at the
idea of gaining the promised luxuries, but Iala did not seem so
enthusiastic, owing to his name not being mentioned in connection with
the presents.
"Tell Iala from me," I exclaimed, "that he, too, shall have a pound of
tobacco and a bottle of rum like his brother if he succeeds."
The look of displeasure disappeared from the dark face of the native as
he heard the offer, and he displayed his sharp, white teeth in token of
approval.
"The men go by the old trail through the forest. They will not trust the
new road leading to the house for fear of meeting our people. The trail
is much longer, but safer. After they get through the woods they will
have to cross a mud creek. The horses will refuse to enter the water,
and considerable time will elapse before they can be got across. If we
can meet them at the creek there is no escape for them."
Such were the expressions of Kala, uttered slow and distinct, as though
he was weighing each word, and knew the importance of good counsel. We
had not much time to consider the matter, for the native informed us
that he and his brother had run with all their speed to the house, after
once making sure that the bushrangers intended to take the trail instead
of the road.
"Well, gentlemen, what is your opinion on the subject? Shall we sally
forth, like knights-errant of old, and rescue the women from the
clutches of the devils, or shall we sit here and finish our punch, and
then go to bed? I am ready to hear a few words on both sides of the
question, but no long arguments."
Our host meant work; I could see that by his flashing gray eyes.
"Can't we drink the punch after we return?" asked Mr. Brown.
"Ay, and as much more as you wish," promptly responded our host, rising
from the table, an example that we were not slow to follow.
Jackson, who had remained waiting in the room during the interview, now
stepped forward, as though aware that his services would be required by
his master.
"Bring me my pistols, and oil-cloth coat and cap, and be in a hurry,"
were the only commands that Mr. Wright issued, and Jackson, who knew the
man's impulses, did not delay an instant in executing the order, and
with the articles named he brought coats and water-proof hats for us,
while to our surprise, he placed upon the table the revolvers belonging
to Mr. Brown and myself, cleaned, oiled, and loaded.
"I supposed that you would want them in good condition when you left the
farm, so while you were at supper I took the liberty of attending to
them," Jackson said, in an apologetic tone, as though fearful that he
had exceeded instructions.
"You are deserving of a pardon, and hang me if I don't get you one
before six months are passed," cried my friend, enthusiastically, after
a slight examination of his weapon, which showed him that it was loaded
correctly and capped with great nicety.
The poor fellow started with surprise, and his face flushed with
agitation. I saw him turn away, as though ashamed to display his
weakness.
"There is no such joyful news for me, sir," he said, at length, in as
firm a voice as he could command.
"Don't you believe that story," cried Mr. Brown, heartily. "Plenty of
men have received pardons, and they didn't deserve them as much as you.
My word for that."
"Bushrangers get there before us," muttered the natives.
"Kala is right. We must be under way, or the fellows will slip through
our fingers. One drink all round, and here's success to our expedition."
While I was fitting my head gear the door opened, and in walked Day, his
eyes glistening as though he had drank a cup too much of Mr. Wright's
strong water.
"No, you don't," he said, surveying us from head to foot; "if you think
that you can get off without the best ghost that the country can produce
you are mistaken. You can count me in." "Then hurry and get ready," I
exclaimed, "for we have not a moment to lose."
"Ready?" asked the shepherd, "ain't I all reedy as I am? I don't want
your ile-skins to keep off a little wet. I'm used to it. Lead the way,
blackies, and I'll keep close to your heels."
"But you have no weapons," Mr. Wright said.
"Ain't I got 'em? Look here!" and to my surprise, he produced from the
bosom of his flannel shirt a large pair of horse pistols, which he had
borrowed from one of the farm hands.
"You'll do; go ahead," our host said. And as we sallied into the entry
we saw that all the laborers were drawn up in a line, as though to take
formal leave of us.
"Please, sir, let me go wid you," I heard the familiar voice of the
Irishman, who greeted me on my arrival, say.
"And me," cried a dozen voices, in the same breath.
"I don't want you all, but Mike may go," was the brief reply.
"Glory to God! we'll lick thunder out of all the bloody bushrangers that
iver dared to show their homely faces this side of the Loddon. I'm off;"
and Mike, who feared that the order for his going would be revoked,
snatched a long spear that stood in the entry, and rushed out of the
house hatless and shoeless, and full of fight.
"Take good care of the house, Jackson," Mr. Wright said, addressing his
servant, who stood near him.
"You don't wish me to accompany you, sir?" he asked.
"No, no. Stay here and take care of the house, and mind that you defend
it against all odds, in case of an attack."
"Bushrangers move quick," muttered Kala.
"I'm coming. Now, gentlemen, we will try the speed of your limbs;" and
out of the house we sallied, and stood in the driving storm for a few
minutes, completely blinded by the sudden transition from light to
pitchy darkness.
"Follow Kala," muttered the native; but the request was an
impossibility, because Kala was invisible even a foot from where we
stood.
"Give the strangers your arms, and lead them until their eyes get
accustomed to the darkness," Mr. Wright said, addressing the natives.
"That is a good arrangement for us, but how are you to find the way?"
cried Mr. Brown.
"We know every foot of land within a circle of five miles," was the
prompt response of our host; and to show that he made no idle boast, he
started towards the field of wheat which we had noticed early in the
afternoon, while we followed close at his heels as best we could, much
to the disgust of the natives, I have no doubt, for they could scarcely
restrain their impatience at the slowness of our pace.
The dogs saluted us with a mighty howl as we passed them, but a word
from their master quieted their valor, and by the time we had got clear
of the cattle pens our eyes were sufficiently accustomed to the
darkness, and were enabled to dispense with the guidance of Kala and
Iala, who gladly got at the head of the column and led the way towards
the creek, which it was stated the bushrangers would have to pass.
"Under this tree," said our host, pointing to a gum tree of gigantic
proportions, "I killed one of the largest diamond snakes that I ever
saw in the country. There used to be a nest of them near this place, but
I think that they are exterminated by this time. You recollect the
snake, do you not?" he continued, addressing the natives in their
dialect.
"We remember," was the brief reply.
"Couldn't you conveniently change the conversation?" Mr. Brown asked,
and I shared his interest in the matter, for I didn't like the topic in
so dark a night.
"Pooh! you ain't afraid of snakes, are you?" Mr. Wright asked, in a tone
that implied that he was not.
"Well, I don't care if I confess that I have seen more agreeable sights
than a d----n big, black snake, with a mouth large enough to swallow a
baby without much trouble. I don't wish to be rigid, but it strikes me
that I prefer daylight when the conversation is tending towards such
cheerful topics."
I could see that Mr. Brown was intently engaged in scanning the ground
while speaking, as though he feared there might be a few of the varmints
unkilled from the nest spoken of.
"About a mile further, gentlemen," and we felt thankful for the
information, for a more disagreeable night's tramp, so far, I had never
experienced. Still, the thoughts of the two suffering women enabled me
to keep my spirits up, and to press forward with eagerness to the point
at which we expected to relieve them.
There was no cessation to the rain, and the lightning was as vivid as
ever, but the thunder was rolling away to the southward, and muttering
and growling as though sorry at having relinquished the battle without
more of a struggle.
"If I was only as wet within as I'm without, it's in fighting trim I'd
be," Mike said, addressing the shepherd, who was tugging along with the
most stoical indifference as to the fulling rain and bad road.
"I can fight, wet or dry," was the answer.
"And can't I do the same?" asked Mike, inclined to take umbrage at the
remark.
"Show me a thing that an Irishman can't do as well as an Englishman,"
cried Mike.
"Can you play the ghost like me?" demanded the shepherd.
"And why not?"
"Because, who ever heard of a ghost speaking with the brogue?" asked the
stockman, triumphantly.
"Bedad, I didn't think of that," Mike muttered, completely crushed by
this new evidence of his companion's superiority.
"If you two grumblers don't stop your wrangling I'll choke you," Mr.
Wright exclaimed, angrily.
"I'm dumb," Mike said.
"I'm silent as a corpse," cried the undertaker.
"I'll spake no more this night," continued Mike.
"See that you don't," answered our host.
"Divil a bit, till I see a bushranger, and then I'll give him a taste of
my spear."
"That you may do, and you shall have a glass of grog for every one that
you kill," answered Mr. Wright.
"Holy St. Patrick! you don't say so. Don't any one go near 'em but me.
I'll fight the thaves and vagabonds every one, single handed and alone,
like a Killarney man that I am."
For twenty minutes we continued on our course, expecting to strike the
creek every moment,--yet the night was so dark that it was impossible to
tell whether we were on the trail, or wading over the pasturage of the
farm.
Even Kala was at fault, and glanced towards the trees, and examined them
to discover if we were in the proper locality, but apparently without
much success, and I began to think that our expedition was a failure,
when the native uttered a grunt.
"Well, Kala, what now?" asked Mr. Wright
"There be creek," he said, and by the aid of a flash of lightning we
could see his thin black arm pointing to a line of trees on our right.
"And the trail?" suggested our host.
"We reach it by and by. Come now, and don't talk."
We followed the native, with the renewed hope of soon terminating an
adventure, and as we gained the edge of the gum trees, which were
convincing proof that we were near the water, the Australians bent
themselves to the task of finding the trail, or the place where the
bushrangers were expected to ford. On their hands and knees they crawled
about from place to place, aided occasionally by a flash of lightning,
but still they were unsuccessful, though not discouraged. Their natures
were too patient for that.
"To the devil with the trail," muttered Mike, hitting one of the
prostrate natives with his spear. "Let's find the brook, and then we'll
be all right, shan't we? Find the main thing first, and then toiler up
the little ones, used to be the advice of me father, God rest his soul,
and keep him well supplied wid whiskey in the nixt world! Ah, what man
he was to be sure! You knew him, sir?" continued Mike, addressing Mr.
Wright, who was awaiting the result of the Australians with exemplary
patience, considering that the rain was falling in torrents.
"Be quiet," said our host, "or if you must do something go and see how
near we are to the creek, and don't make a noise."
"I'll do that same," muttered Mike, "but it's the opinion of a man who
knows more than a dozen nagers, that the creek is a mile from here in
the udder direction."
He went on his mission, grumbling at the supposition that the creek was
near us, when suddenly we heard a loud splash, and Mike's voice raised
in supplication.