The Rush at Golden Flat
Dead Broke Dan had been gone a week from Golden Flat on his errand for
stores, and in this time the extent of the "pay gravel" in the different
mines had been fairly accurately estimated. Developments all along the
line proved the existence of a rich but limited layer of the
gold-carrying wash from end to end of the workings. At the Golden
Promise mine the auriferous deposit, as had been anticipated, had
occurred in a considerably deeper drift than in any of the others, the
reason of course, being in accordance with Bob's theory that the sudden
uprise of the old channel would cause an accumulation of the wash
directly on the incline, and so it had happened; the thickness of the
stratum was here nearly four feet, or almost twice that in all the other
claims. Beyond this, however, no direct trace of the ancient waterway
could be discovered; a broad lagoon-like mass of the tantalizing clay
which had so mystified Emu Bill intervened, sparkling and gleaming in
its deceptive beauty until raised to the surface when it unfailingly
relapsed into its muddy, sordid state, to the disgust of all beholders.
This odd formation was found to underlie the genuine gold-carrying
cement in all the shafts, and its presence provided a topic for much
vituperative language.
Until the various chemicals arrived Bob was unable to make any analysis
of the much-abused deposit, but he was never tired of examining samples
of it, powdering them up and applying the fire test in the hope that
whatever refractory gas or element was present, and binding the gold in
an invisible state, might be driven off. He never cared to say much
concerning the results of these experiments, but that he received
undoubted satisfaction from his labours was very evident. He was engaged
roasting some of the fine grains of the clay in a crucible when Mackay
entered the tent on this morning in search of a pick-handle he had
mislaid.
"Well, Bob," said he, "an' are ye gettin' any nearer a solution to that
mystery of Nature?"
Bob silently pointed to the crucible on the small Primus stove from
which dense yellow fumes were issuing.
"Smell that," he said.
Mackay sniffed right heartily, and nearly choked in consequence.
"An' what sort o' a perfume do ye call that?" he demanded, when he had
regained his composure.
"Chlorine," smilingly returned the chemist. "The clay is soaked in it,
and any text-book will tell you that chlorine has a great affinity for
gold."
Mackay became interested at once. "Let me hear your line o' argument,
Bob," he grunted. "This is a matter o' vera considerable importance, an'
I'll be the last to discourage ye in your efforts."
Bob smiled just a trifle sadly. "I haven't been able to work in the
shaft for a week," he began.
"An' ye'll no work in the shaft until that head o' yours is richt
better," interrupted Mackay. "I'm no' so sure," he continued, "whether
I should alloo ye to worry as you're doin' aboot that wretched stuff."
The young man looked gratefully at the speaker, then turned his gaze
once more to the smoking crucible.
"I think I have discovered how to treat it," he said slowly. "The
chlorine must be brought into contact with another gas offering a
greater affinity than gold: on their combination the gold will be set
free in a metallic state, and can be saved in the ordinary way. All we
have to do is to pump hydrogen gas into a vat containing a solution of
the clayey mixture, keep emptying off the slimes, and in time the
residue must be a highly concentrated gold wash. It's not very
difficult, is it? I only need those acids to prove the practical working
of the scheme."
Mackay remained silent for a moment, apparently deep in thought.
"You'll do it, Bob," he broke out eagerly. "Dead Broke should be back
wi' the acids any time now, an' you'll be able to finish your tests; but
I hae no doubt ye'll accomplish what we all wish, an' ye'll deserve your
reward, my laddie."
About noon of the same day Dead Broke Dan was sighted in the distance,
returning with the camel team, much to the relief of all in camp, for he
was already a full day overdue.
"I was a bit skeert that ole Dead Broke had anchored himself in the
township," growled Nuggety Dick, as they all congregated at his shaft to
watch the lumbering train approach.
"If he drove the animals like that all the way," hazarded Never Never
Dave, "he could hiv been here two days ago. Why, the old heathen _is_
forcing the pace."
The camels were certainly travelling at an unusually rapid rate;
heavily laden as they were, they were actually ambling over the sand,
and old Dead Broke Dan was running energetically alongside, plying his
long whip with a will.
"I can't make it out," said Mackay. "Dead Broke knows well enough that
it's dangerous to rush those brutes in that fashion. There must be
something wrong."
Something apparently was wrong, for when the great hulking beasts
staggered into camp, their flanks were heaving convulsively, and their
mouths were flecked with foam. Their driver, too, seemed in the last
stage of collapse.
"There's a rush comin', mates," he panted. "Macguire's gang followed me
out from Kalgoorlie. I tried to shake them off an' doubled back on my
own tracks, but they've got horses and buggies, an' I couldn't lose
them, no matter how I dodged. They camped less'n a mile from me last
night; but I didn't unload the camels, an' scooted about one o'clock in
the morning so as to get in ahead to tell you."
"We couldn't have kept it quiet much longer anyhow, boys," said Nuggety
Dick. "An' I don't think we'd have minded a decent crowd comin' to the
flat, but Macguire's a holy terror, and his gang are a tough party to
handle."
"There's one howlin' satisfaction, mates," laughed Emu Bill. "They'll
get nothin' but that miserable miradgy clay outside our pegs. I kin just
fancy I hear Macguire's words when he sees his gold vanish." He grinned
delightedly at the thought.
Mackay did not say much, he knew that a rush was inevitable, but
Macguire was not exactly the kind of man he would care to have as a near
neighbour. He was a noted bully, card-sharper, and mine-jumper, though
he ostensibly kept an hotel in the township where men of a similar
fraternity were wont to congregate.
"How many are in the crowd, Dead Broke?" he asked.
"'Bout a dozen, I calc'late."
"And we are only eight," mused Mackay.
"You don't think the sneakin' thief will try to jump this here circus?"
ejaculated Nuggety Dick.
"You may just bet your boots the same individual'll no work himsel' if
he can find it already done for him," came the answer. "I shouldna
wonder a bit if we have some trouble. What are you grinning at, you
young baboon?" he demanded, turning to the Shadow, who appeared to find
much cause for merriment in the doubtful state of things.
The Shadow subsided at once. "Man boss," he complained reproachfully,
"does ye think we is a gentle little Sunday-school party, just waiting
to be swallowed?"
Mackay snorted in disgust. "If it werena for these laddies," he said to
himself, "I would dearly enjoy a scrimmage; but I seem to have become
mair cautious since they've been wi' me. It's no richt that they should
see the wickedness o' human nature in its worst aspect a' at aince."
"I see them coming!" cried Bob, who was scanning the horizon closely,
and a dim sand cloud in the far eastward distance was sure enough
evidence that the rush would ere long be in their midst. Soon the
various outlines of horsemen and buggies could be traced amid the
enveloping dust; quickly the frenzied gold-seekers drew near, and wild
halloos mingled with the cracking of whips, and the laboured plunging of
horses' hoofs on the ironshot sand plain. Ahead of the main party,
mounted on a powerful bay horse, which he was cruelly spurring on to its
last effort, rode Macguire, a tall, awkward brute of a man, whose heavy
countenance as he came near, bore the exulting leer of the professional
braggart and bully. At a mad gallop he forced his jaded beast right up
to Nuggety Dick's shaft, then halted with a vicious jerk on the curb
rein, and surveyed the awaiting group with a triumphant grin.
"So you thought you were goin' to run this show yourselves," he sneered
from his position in the saddle.
"I guess you've struck it plumb first shot," calmly returned Emu Bill,
rolling his quid in his mouth with evident relish, and ejecting a streak
of tobacco juice which came dangerously near to finding a resting-place
on the new-comer's boots.
Macguire snarled, and looked round to see if his satellites were near at
hand, and, noting their close proximity, he jumped from his horse, threw
the reins carelessly over a mulga sapling, and examined the stacked wash
on the surface with unconcealed joy.
"An' who was the discoverer o' this bonanza?" he demanded, aggressively,
addressing every one in general.
Nuggety Dick gave a snort of annoyance. "For a mean impertinent swab ye
beat anything I've ever met," said he, in his politest tones. "An' if ye
doesn't take yer miserable carcase clear o' my pegs instanter, ye'll
find what ye're lookin' for in about two shakes o' a muskittie's
eyelid."
At that moment the rest of Macguire's Rush appeared on the scene, and
with boisterous laughter hurried to range themselves by their chief's
side. They were a motley crew, comprising the very worst product of the
goldfields, and they glared at the owners of Golden Flat with
uncontrolled malevolence. Macguire eyed his choice associates with
satisfaction, before responding to Nuggety Dick's peremptory request,
then he turned the flood-gates of his wrath loose on that amiable
gentleman, who listened with dangerous _sang froid_. War was certainly
imminent, but before the actual outbreak had occurred, Mackay left his
position beside Jack, and stepped forward.
"This is my quarrel, Nuggety," said he. "The gentleman was looking for
the discoverer o' the flat, an' I should be sorry if he went away before
makin' my acquaintance."
The tone was quiet almost to mildness, and Jack and Bob marvelled much
thereat; but the Shadow laughed softly to himself.
"Oh, it was you, was it?" blustered Macguire. "An' why in thunder didn't
ye report to me? We might have come peaceably at first, but now we mean
to boost ye out of it. I know ye hasn't registered yer find, for I has
watched the Warden's office ever since you an' them youngsters passed
through the township, an' there's been no notices posted. Now I
calc'late we'll just begin where you leave off, an' we are obliged to ye
for doin' so much work for us. Ain't that right, boys?"
A yell of approbation greeted his words.
"You've made a vera serious error," said Mackay, with unruffled
serenity. "You've neglected to consider that we keep guns in camp, an'
there's twa or three o' them lookin' at ye now. Furthermore, we were
just dyin' for a scrimmage when you popped your ugly head along, an',
though ye beat us by two in numbers, I dinna just feel tremblin' wi'
anxiety over the finish o' the circus. No, no, Macguire, ye canna bluff
this crowd----"
"Does ye know who I am?" howled Macguire. "I'm the champion bruiser o'
the fields, I is."
"And ye look it every time," retorted Mackay. "But before we gang in for
wholesale bloodshed, we'd better settle our personal differences. I hae
objected strongly to your unmannerly inceevility----"
"Ho! ho! ho!" roared the bruiser, rolling up his shirt-sleeves with
professional exactitude. "Now, boys, the funeral is off until I knock
this rooster out."
"Right O!" came the ready response from the hired ruffians, who never
doubted for a moment the all-conquering prowess of their chief.
Nuggety Dick, Emu Bill, Jack, the Shadow, and Bob, quietly ranged
themselves on one side, their hands gripping the butts of the revolvers
in their belts. In the near distance, beyond the windlass, with rifles
resting on the timber for greater steadiness, Never Never Dave and Dead
Broke Dan kept the deadly tubes gazing at Macguire's band, much to these
warriors' disquietude. It had been Mackay's idea to have them thus
prepared; the wisdom of it was already clearly evidenced.
And now Bob and Jack trembled for the safety of their friend. Macguire
was both taller and broader than Mackay, and his short bull neck and
bloated features gave him a decidedly repulsive appearance. But to their
astonishment Mackay's face betrayed not the slightest trace of concern,
though his eyes shone with a strange light. He had taken upon himself
the battle of the entire camp, and he knew it.
With a yell Macguire rushed to the attack, and his right hand lunged
ponderously forward, only to find itself warded lightly aside. Wildly he
attempted to guard with his left; but Mackay's blow came like a
lightning stroke, straight from the shoulder, and was not to be denied.
Macguire staggered under the shock of the concussion, but recovered
himself, and with savage rage struck blindly again and again at his
antagonist's head, only to find his great fists beat the empty air.
Mackay simply warded off the vain strokes, and stood his ground, a grim
smile beginning to dawn on his features. He had discovered the weakness
of his opponent; Macguire's strength was his whole support--one of his
terrible blows would have proved fatal to most men--and so had his
reputation grown! But Mackay's anger burned fierce within him, and he
waited his chance; it soon came. Macguire, aroused to an extraordinary
pitch of ferocity, made again a desperate swinging stroke at his enemy's
head with the usual futile result; but ere he could recover from the
impetus of his foolish action Mackay's great fists caught him full in
the face, one after the other, with a force that hurled the bully over
in the sand. But all was not over yet; the bruiser had evidently no lack
of animal courage. He picked himself up slowly, peered through his fast
closing eyes to locate his enemy, and leaped like a demoniacal savage
once more to the fray. Disdaining to strike the half-blind wretch,
Mackay stood unmoved, and so gave the cunning trickster the chance he
desired. The long, octopus arms of Macguire gripped him tight, and his
breath spurted forth in fierce gasps. A groan of dismay broke from Jack,
and a yell of delight from Macguire's supporters greeted this action.
Now, indeed, it was to be a trial of strength. Backwards and forwards
they swayed, bending, twisting, writhing, stumbling, but through it all
the Shadow noticed with joy how gradually, yet surely, Mackay's brawny
arms were tightening over the great bulk of his antagonist. For a moment
there was a lull, the crucial point had come, and the combatants stood
immovable; the muscles of Mackay's arms strained out like whipcords.
Crack! crack! something seemed to have given way. Mackay relaxed his
hold, and with a groan and a shiver the towering form of Macguire
subsided in the sand and lay inert. Both sides had watched the last
struggle of the giants with breathless interest; and the final collapse
of Macguire aroused from his supporters only a hushed exclamation of
awe. The victor stepped forward to them at once.
"Now, boys," he said pleasantly, "if you like, we'll begin the circus.
Your leader has got a couple or so ribs broken, so you'd better not
count on him much----"
"No! no!" they shouted in unison; and one of them, constituting himself
spokesman for the party, gave vent to their impressions.
"After that," he said weakly, "we don't want no more fight. Let us peg
alongside somewheres. We promise to act straight with you."
A shuddering murmur of approval followed his words. Mackay had indeed
done battle for the entire camp that day.
Then the Shadow broke out. "Didn't I tell you, Jack?" cried he, prancing
around gleefully.
"By the Great Howlin' Billy, I've never seen a fight like that--no,
never," impressively spoke Never Never, coming forward.
Neither Bob nor Jack said a word, their hearts seemed too full for
speech; but Mackay guessed their thoughts.
"It had to be done, my laddies," said he, kindly. "I thought my
fighting days were over; but it wasna to be--it wasna to be."
After that order reigned. Some of Macguire's gang sullenly went off to
peg out claims beyond the Golden Promise Mine; others busied themselves
erecting a huge tent into which their fallen chief was carried, groaning
and cursing by turns. Then the holders of Golden Flat returned to their
labours with buoyant energy, and continued excavating the golden wash as
if nothing untoward had happened to mar the even tenor of their way. Bob
having received the acids he had so eagerly awaited, was soon lost in
the mazes of calculative experiments beside his crucibles and
test-tubes. The Shadow and Jack slogged away with steady persistency at
the bottom of the shaft. Mackay calmly smoked the pipe of peace at the
windlass head, now and again breaking out into unmelodious song to the
great discomfort of all within hearing distance. Indeed, since his
desperate encounter he seemed to have become unusually cheerful; and
Bob, hearing the distracting strains, laughed softly to himself and
pondered deeply on this further illustration of a many-sided nature.
That evening, however, he was destined to be further surprised, for
Mackay, having finished his tea, went quietly to a small
mysterious-looking box which he kept under his bunk, and which neither
of the boys had ever seen him open before, and from a recess within the
lid he extracted--a flute.
"Heavens!" feebly murmured the Shadow, who was present, glaring at the
instrument with exaggerated horror.
Jack laughed outright, but checked himself suddenly when the big man
began to play. Never had he heard sweeter music; the mellow notes rang
out with exceeding softness as the great and somewhat battered fingers
of the musician strayed over the keys. No paltry tune was this, no
music-hall ditty; it was the "Miserere" from Il Trovatore he played, and
with such haunting sweetness that Bob rubbed his eyes and looked at him
in amazement. It was no joke, then, this strange man's professed love of
music, and his thoughts went back to the evening they had spent in
London. The last long-drawn-out note trembled to a finish; and Mackay's
voice broke in on his reverie.
"What do you think o' that, Bob?"
"It was beautiful," said Bob, soberly.
"Ah, my ain whustle canna compare wi' the flute," sighed Mackay,
dolorously, applying his mouth once more to his treasure. Then he
hesitated. "I think I'll play ye that bonnie tune we heard at the
Queen's Hall," said he, reflectively. "D'ye mind what it was, Jack?"
"Of course I do," responded that youth, with alacrity. "It was 'Home,
Sweet Home!'"
The questioner looked grieved. "That sang doesna come into my
_repertoire_ when I'm oot in the bush," he reproved sternly.
"You meant, 'Lo, hear the gentle lark,'" said Bob.
The flautist nodded. "One, two, three, and off she goes," said he; and
at once the liquid strains of Bishop's wonderful music echoed through
the tent, with its trills and cadenzas, and with, it must be confessed,
many variations from the original melody. Ere he had finished nearly all
the camp were clustered at the door; even Macguire's party was
represented. Then the spell was broken. Evidently the volume of sound
created by the flute did not quite satisfy the player's desire for a
fuller burden of song. He laid down the flute. "Watch me catch that top
note," said he, and, with grim desperation, he opened his mouth and
began, "'Lo! hear the gentle la-a-a-a-ark----'"
A yell of horror from the doorway, and a sudden trampling of feet
intimated that the bulk of his audience had taken flight. The Shadow
squirmed in agony, Jack shuddered, and Bob looked pained.
"Ah, weel," grunted the singer apologetically, pausing in his valiant
effort, "I couldna expect ye to appreciate such vera high-class music,
but haud on a bit an' I'll gie ye a verse o' my ain construction, set to
music o' my vera ain composition; it is called 'The Muskittie's
Lament.'"
Straightway he started, and bellowed out this touching little story, in
a voice so raucous that even the parrots fluttering in the scrub around
screamed out noisily in protest.[A] When he had finished, the Shadow and
Jack had vanished, and Bob alone was left to thank him as best he could.
But he was happily spared this call on his prevaricative powers, for the
vocalist did not give him an opportunity of expressing his opinion.
"Ye dinna look exactly overjoyed wi' my singin'," said he, quizzically,
"but ye must admit it's vera effective."
Bob laughed, but did not venture to disagree.
"Ay," continued Mackay, with a chuckle, "my voice has wonderfu' movin'
powers, though, like my whustle, it's mebbe a wee bit trying at close
quarters." He proceeded to the box once more, and, to Bob's surprise,
extricated a sextant from its depths. He gazed at it tenderly for a few
moments, then handed it to his companion, who seized it eagerly, and
examined it with deep interest. It was an instrument which had,
apparently, seen considerable service, for the handle was grooved by
much fingering, and the lacquer on the framework was blistered by the
sun's rays, and altogether bare in places. But the silvered arc itself
was in perfect condition, and the thin coating of vaseline over it
showed that its present owner knew how to take care of the delicate
fabric. Mackay gazed curiously on during the young man's work of
inspection. It was almost dark now in the tent, the last glimmering rays
of the setting sun alighted on the reflecting glasses of the sextant and
danced thereon joyously for a moment, then the heavy gloom of night
fell, and still Bob clutched the symbol of his unuttered desire, while
Mackay seemed wrapt in silent meditation. At length the elder man spoke.
"That was the chief's sextant, Bob," said he, gravely. "It was the only
thing I found near the camp where he and his expedition were murdered."
"I almost guessed that," answered Bob; then he hesitated. "I wish you
would let me try an observation with it," he concluded with earnestness.
"Let you?" cried Mackay. "I want you to do it. Do ye remember," he
continued musingly, "o' me sending you a book on navigation; well, that
was because I wanted to influence your studies in that direction. I
canna say whether I have succeeded or no'----"
Bob laughed grimly. "My father was a sailor," said he. "His brother was
a navigator; and I--I would dearly like to be able to steer a course as
well."
"My lad," said Mackay, "you'll maybe get your wish sooner than you
expect. I brought out the sextant just to sound you, for nae man can say
that Mackay persuaded him against his will; but I see that the same
blood runs in the family. Take the sextant, Bob; I give it to you,
though it is my dearest possession. Handle it carefully; it has proved
true on mony a long weary journey. But mind, I may ask ye to use it in
earnest soon."
Without another word he arose and walked from the tent, leaving Bob
alone in the darkness, his mind filled with rushing thoughts. When Jack
came in, about half an hour later, and lit a candle, he found him in the
same place. Truly the touch of the mystic emblem had aroused in him the
uncontrollable indefinite longing which is the sure birthright of the
wanderer. The call of the bush seemed to echo through his brain, the
boundless horizon beckoned him.
Jack's entry helped to throw off the spell which had gripped him. He
arose and placed the sextant carefully back in its case beside the
flute.
"What on earth is that, Bob?" asked Jack, anxiously. "Not another
musical instrument, surely."
"We'll have a look at it to-morrow, Jack," answered Bob. "It's a sextant
which Mackay has given me."
"Great Scot!" ejaculated the irrepressible youth, "can he use a sextant
too?"
Bob smiled. "I don't know," said he, "but I wouldn't be too sure."
"He is a regular daisy," commented Jack, enthusiastically. "Why, up at
Nuggety's camp, he's explaining to them the theories of music, and I'm
hanged if he hasn't got them half convinced that it is their
uncultivated ear that is at fault when they don't appreciate his
singing."
A commotion from without the tent interrupted them, and the Shadow's
voice shouted loudly on Jack.
"I've just rounded up a real beauty o' a snake at my camp," said he,
when they appeared. "Come along, an' I'll show ye how to crack him like
a whip." And the three departed.
On the following morning Macguire's followers considered it advisable
that their damaged leader should be taken, without further delay, to the
township hospital, and shortly after daybreak a buggy and a couple of
horses were waiting in readiness for the journey. This sudden decision
on the matter was by no means agreeable to Mackay, and he hastily called
a meeting of the claim-holders in order to state his fears.
"You know, boys," said he, "we've never registered these mines at the
Warden's office, as that bully Macguire seems to know, an' our miners'
rights are only good enough so long as we are the strongest party."
"Well, we don't need to try and keep the Flat a secret now," growled Emu
Bill. "We're bound to have half Kalgoorlie alongside us in a day or so."
"Ye don't seem to catch on to our difficulty, boys," continued Mackay.
"If Macguire gets into the Warden's office first, he can simply register
these mines in his own ugly name, along wi' his partners, of course, an'
then, all they've got to do is swear _we_ jumped them, an' we'll get
fired out o' our own claims wi' a squad o' mounted police!"
Simple and open-minded bushmen, they had never thought of this.
"By Jupiter! I believe you're right," cried old Dead Broke Dan.
"But what in thunder is we to do?" complained Nuggety Dick. "If we had a
horse we could beat him; but the camels are too mighty slow."
"Ah, now you've struck it," agreed Mackay. "But ye must remember it's a
seventy-mile dry stretch from here to Kalgoorlie, an' their horses are
pretty well knocked up now. It should take them a good two days to do
it, even if they force for all they're worth."
At this stage the Shadow pushed his way forward. "I knows what Mackay is
thinking," said he; "but I'm the man for the job, an' I'm goin' to do it
too."
"Do ye think ye could manage, Shad?" asked Mackay, earnestly. "I'm no
goin' to mak' a single remark aboot your bushmanship, for you've well
proved your abilities in that direction, but, my lad, it's a job for a
strong man, an' I meant to tak' it on mysel'."
"Ye doesn't know how powerful I is on the trot," said the lithe young
bushman; "an' if it comes to strength, I reckon I is no chicken,
either."
He bared his right arm proudly, and showed the swelling muscles which
his tattered shirt-sleeve covered.
"Why, what does ye mean to do?" demanded Nuggety, like his near
neighbours, somewhat bewildered. "Does ye mean to walk?"
"Give me a water-bag in my fist, and I'll pretty soon show you," came
the quick retort. "I'll bet a tug at old Dead Broke's whiskers that I'm
in before the buggy all right."
It seemed a hopeless plan, yet, owing to the arid and sandy nature of
the country to be traversed, it was not as hopeless as it looked.
"If we let them get away first," said Mackay, "they won't think there's
any need to hurry. Go an' swallow as much water as you can, an' get your
water-bag primed up to the muzzle. Jack, you'd better make enough
sandwiches from that damper of yours to carry the Shadow a couple o'
days."
"Couldn't I go too, Shad?" said Jack, anxiously.
"You're a bit too fresh yet, Jack; you'd want too much water," was the
sententious reply.
Jack turned away without a word to prepare the sandwiches.
A few minutes later the buggy containing Macguire and one of his chosen
associates drove up, and stopped opposite the party, so that the
departing bully might get rid of some of his vituperative eloquence.
When he saw Mackay, his raging madness was painful to witness. Clearly
his enmity, instead of dissolving, had been magnified tenfold by his
humiliation.
"I'll get even with you for this," he yelled, shaking his fist at the
object of his fury; "an' ye won't live long before ye knows it too."
Mackay stepped menacingly towards the buggy. "I ought to have killed ye,
ye meeserable thief," he said; but the man holding the reins was too
terrified to wait longer. With a wild slash of the whip he set the
horses plunging madly across the sand on the back track to the township,
and Macguire, leaning back with livid face, hurled his last shot.
"This country won't be big enough to hold us two!" he bellowed.
Mackay smiled a hard smile. "Then I reckon ye'd better get out of it
while you're healthy," he murmured, as he turned to rejoin his
companions.
FOOTNOTE:
[A] "THE MUSKITTIE'S LAMENT.
"A bright wee muskittie sat on a tree,
An' O, it was hungry as hungry could be,
An' the tears drappit doon frae its bonnie blue ee,
As it sighed and looked sad for Australia."