As soon as it was light the party were assembled and started, Jim
leading the way, at a swinging pace which kept the horses going at
a hand canter. The marks were, for a time, perfectly easy to
follow. Five miles on the tracks led to a shepherd's hut. At their
call, the man came out.
"You had a visit from bush rangers last night?"
"What if I did?" the man replied gruffly. "I can't help where the
bush rangers pay their visits. Yes, they came in here and said they
wanted some supper; and you may guess I did not keep them waiting
long, for they were not in a particularly good temper. From what
they said, three of their men had been killed."
This was already known to the party, as Jim had found three bodies
at a short distance from the house. Two of these had evidently been
carried there from the back window, where they had been killed in
trying to effect the entry. The other had been shot when
approaching to fire the house.
"The captain of the gang was terrible put out, and was a-cussing
and swearing as to what he would do to those as did it. I wouldn't
be in their shoes, if they were to fall into his hands."
"They didn't say anything which would give you an idea as to the
direction they were taking?"
"Not they," the man replied. "You don't suppose they would be such
fools as that and, if they had, you don't suppose as I should be
such a fool to split on 'em. Not likely. I ain't no desire to wake
up, one night, and find the door fastened outside and the thatch on
fire."
"We may as well ride on," Reuben said. "We shall learn nothing
here. The fellow is a ticket-of-leave man, and as likely as not in
league with these scoundrels.
"I wonder what they came here for," he added, as they started
again.
"I tell you, sah," Jim said. "Dat fellow has driven his herd ober
their trail--all stamped out--no saying where they hab gone to."
"We must follow the herd, then," Reuben said. "If we look sharp, we
ought to be able to see the traces where they left them."
Jim shook his head.
"No find," he said decidedly. "Plenty places where de ground am
berry hard, and horse feet no show. Dey choose some place like dat
and turn off; perhaps put rug under horses' feet, so as to make no
mark. Me sarch, sah. Jim look him eyes very hard, but tink no
find."
And so, to their great disappointment, it turned out. They followed
the tracks of the herd three miles, until they came upon them,
quietly grazing; but nowhere could they see any trace of a party of
horsemen turning off. All the party were greatly vexed at the ill
success of their expedition; for all had hoped that they were, at
last, going to overtake the gang who had done such mischief in the
colony.
Reuben was especially disgusted. He had, only the day before,
received a letter from his chief acknowledging the receipt of his
report describing the pursuit of the blacks, and congratulating him
warmly upon his success. The letter ended:
"If you can but give as good an account of the bush rangers, we
shall be indeed grateful to you. As it is, you have more than
justified my selection of you for the post."
Leaving two constables as guards, at Dick Caister's station, in
case, as was probable enough, the bush rangers should return to
take revenge for the repulse they had experienced there, Reuben
rode back to his headquarters, from which he had now been absent
some time. The evening after his return, he called Jim into his
room.
"Jim," he said, "I want your advice as to the best way of finding
out where these bush rangers are quartered. How do you think we had
better set about it? Would it be of any use, do you think, for you
to go among the natives and try and find out? There is no doubt
they know, for they have often acted with the bush rangers. Do you
think you could pass among them?"
"No, sah," Jim said at once. "Me no speak deir way. Me understand
black fellow, me talk dar language, but not same way. They find out
difference directly and kill me. De wild black fellows hate those
who hab lived wid de white men. We hate dem just de same way. We
say dem bad black fellow, dey say we no good."
"But those rascally trackers who led us wrong, that day of the
fight, they were friendly with them."
"Yes, sah, but dey not so very long away from the bush, and always
keep friends wid the others. Meet dem and talk to dem, and tell dem
dey set the white men on wrong tracks."
"Well, Jim, but could not you do the same?"
"No good, sah. Me brought up among de whites, eber since me little
boy. Dey not believe me if I go and say dat to dem. Jim ready to
get killed, if de captain want him; but no good at all him getting
killed in dat way."
"I don't want you to get killed in any way, Jim, and if that's your
opinion about it, we will give up the plan at once. Can you think
of any other way?"
"Me tink a lot about him. Me know de captain want very much to
catch dose fellows, but Jim no see how dat can be done, for sure.
But de best plan me can see is for Jim to go out by himself, and
search de country outside white man's bounds. If he find de track
of horses, he follow dem up. Me know about de way dey ride off
after dey be killing people at de stations. If Jim look, and look,
and look berry sharp he find dar track for sure; and once he find
dem, he follow dem up. Must be water, for sure, where dey live. Dat
good guide to begin with.
"But captain must not hurry; Jim may be long time before he find
dem, dar no saying how long. Captain wish Jim to go?"
"Well, Jim, I don't want you to go; that is to say, I should miss
you very much; but if you could find out the haunts of these
scoundrels, you would be doing me a very great service, as well as
the people of all the stations."
"Jim no care about oder people," the black said. "He care for de
captain, and will go out and try and find tracks."
"Be careful, Jim, and don't get into trouble with them. If you were
to fall into their hands, and they were to find out you were
connected with the police, they would shoot you like a dog."
"Dey won't find out. White man not understand. Black fellow all one
to him. You hab no fear for Jim. Who look after hoss, while Jim
away?"
"I shall appoint one of the policemen as my orderly, Jim, and he
will look after him."
Jim made a contemptuous gesture, to signify that he had little
confidence in the power of any white man to look after Tartar. For
the rest of the evening Jim was occupied in cooking, and in the
morning he was gone.
A week later, Reuben was among the outlying stations again. He had
heard nothing of the bush rangers, and no fresh attacks had been
made by them, since that upon Dick Caister's station.
One evening, just as he had gone up to bed, he was roused by a
sharp knocking at the door of the house in which he was stopping.
The settlers had grown cautious now, and an upper window was
opened, and Reuben heard the questions, "Who is there?" and "What
is it?"
"Is Captain Whitney here?"
"Yes, do you want him?"
"Yes, I want to see him directly."
In a minute, Reuben had opened the door.
"I am Captain Whitney," he said. "What is it?"
"I am glad I have found you, sir. They told me at the next station
you were here yesterday, but they did not know whether you were
here now.
"Well, sir, I am shepherding some twenty miles away; and this
afternoon, just as I had got back to my hut, in runs a black
fellow. It is a lonely spot, and I reached for my gun, thinking
there was more of them, when he said:
"'No shoot, me friend. Me sarve Captain Whitney of de police. You
know him?'
"I said I had heard your name.
"'You know where he is?' the black asked.
"I said I did not know for certain; but that when my mate went in
for grub, two days before, he had heard say that you had been along
there that morning.
"The black said: 'Good. You run and find him.'
"'Thank you,' says I. 'What for?'
"'I find out about the bush rangers,' he said. 'You go and tell
captain dat, tomorrow morning before de day begins, dey attack the
station of Donald's.'
"'Are you quite sure?' says I.
"'Quite sure,' says the black. 'Me heard dem say so.'
"So as I hates the bush rangers like poison, I saddles up and rides
into the station; and when I had told the boss, he said I better
ride and find you, if I could. You would be at one of the stations
this way. I stopped at three of them, and at the last they told me
you was here."
"Thank you greatly, my good fellow. Donald's! I don't know the
name. Where do they live?"
"They have only been here a couple of months," Reuben's host, who
was standing beside him, replied. "They bought that station of
Anderson's. He was a chicken-hearted young fellow, and sold out
because of the bush rangers. There is a man, his wife, and her
sister, I believe. I fancy they have got a pretty fair capital.
They took Anderson's stock, and have been buying a lot more. That's
why the bush rangers are going to attack them."
"I thought," Reuben said, "that Anderson's was not one of the most
exposed stations."
"No, that was what everyone told him, before he sold it."
"How far would you say it was from here?"
"Thirty-five miles," the settler said. "It's ten miles from
Barker's, and I reckon that's twenty-five from here."
"Well, of course I shall ride at once; as there are women there, it
makes the case all the more urgent. I have got my orderly, and
there are two more men at the station, this side of Barker's."
"I will go, of course," Reuben's host said, "and will bring two men
with me.
"You had best stop here for the night," he added, turning to the
shepherd. "You have ridden pretty well thirty miles already, and
that at the end of your day's work."
"Not I," the man replied. "Jim Walsh is not going to be lying in
bed, with the thought of two women in the hands of them murderous
bush rangers. You might lend me a fresh horse, if you have got one.
If not, I must try and pick one up at one of the stations, as we go
along."
"I have plenty of horses in the yard," the settler said.
"Well, let us be off as soon as possible," Reuben put in. "It's
past twelve o'clock now, and we have thirty-five miles to ride, and
to stop at two or three places, so we haven't a minute to lose."
In a few minutes the horses were saddled, and the six men dashed
off at full gallop. At three stations, which they passed on the way
to Barker's, they picked up seven more. There was but little delay
as, the instant the news was told, the men hurried up, saddled
their horses, and rode after the party, who pushed straight on when
they had told their story. At Barker's they were joined by Barker
himself, and two men. Two constables had also been picked up on the
way.
The others overtook them here, and the party now numbered twenty
men. There was a pause to allow all to come up, and to give the
horses breathing time, for they had traversed twenty-five miles at
a rapid pace, with scarce a halt.
Mrs. Barker herself prepared a meal, to which, while the horses got
their breath, their riders did justice. Then they mounted again,
and rode for Donald's.
"It all depends," Reuben said, "as to our being there in time,
whether the man keeps a careful watch. If he does they may not
attack till the doors are opened, and then make a sudden rush and
catch them unawares. If, when they arrive there, they find the
whole house is asleep, they may burst in at once."
"I think they will be careful," Mr. Barker said. "I know Donald is
very anxious; and no wonder, with two women with him, both young
and pretty--quite out of the way, indeed. In fact, he told me the
first day I rode over, he had no idea of the unsettled state of the
district, and wouldn't have taken the place if he had, not even if
Anderson had given it as a gift; and he wrote down at once to some
agent, and told him to sell the place again, for whatever he can
get for it; but I expect there will be some trouble in finding a
purchaser. The district here has had a bad name for some time and,
if Donald had not arrived fresh from England, he must have heard of
it.
"Listen! I thought I heard the sound of firing."
There was a momentary pause, but no one could hear anything.
Nevertheless, they went on at redoubled speed. They were now within
three miles of the station.
Suddenly, on coming over a crest, a faint light was seen ahead. It
increased rapidly, and a tongue of flame leapt up.
"Come on, lads!" Reuben exclaimed. "The scoundrels are at their
work."
At a hard gallop they crossed the intervening ground, until they
were within half a mile of the station, from which a broad sheet of
flame was leaping up. Then Reuben drew rein, for he had outridden
the rest of his party, and it was important that all should ride
together.
"Now," he said, when they were gathered; "let us keep in a close
body.
"If they ride off as we arrive there, do you, Jones and Wilkins,
stop at the station and see if you can render any help. If not,
follow us at once.
"Let the rest keep on with me, straight after the bush rangers.
There is already a faint light in the east. In half an hour it will
be broad day so, even if they have got a start, we shall be able to
follow them. Now, come on."
At the head of his party, Reuben rode at full speed down to the
station. As he neared it he saw, to his satisfaction, that the
flames arose from some of the outbuildings, and that the house
itself was still intact; but as no firing had been heard, he hoped
that it still resisted.
There was a shrill whistle, when the party approached within a
hundred yards. Men were seen to dash out of the house, and to leap
upon their horses.
With a shout, Reuben rode down. He did not pause for a moment, but
dashed past the house in the direction in which the bush rangers
had fled. They were, he knew, but a hundred yards ahead; but it was
not light enough for him to see them, especially after riding
through the glare of the fire. The sound of the horses' feet,
however, afforded an indication; but as there was no saying in
which direction they might turn, he was forced to halt, every two
or three minutes, to listen.
To his mortification he found that, each time, the sound was
getting more indistinct; for the speed at which they had travelled
had taken so much out of the horses, that they were unable to
compete with the fresher animals ridden by the bush rangers, who
were all well mounted, many of the best horses in the district
having been stolen by them. At last the sound could be heard no
longer, and Reuben was reluctantly obliged to give the order to
halt; for he feared he might override the trail.
"It is no use," he said, as he reined in his horse. "They will know
as well as we do that they are out of hearing now, and might turn
off anywhere. It is terribly annoying. We are too late to save the
station, and the bush rangers have escaped.
"However, we will take up their trail as soon as it is daylight.
Indeed, I am expecting every moment to be joined by Jim, who is
sure to be somewhere near, and can perhaps guide us direct to their
hiding place."
Deeply disappointed, the party dismounted from their horses.
"The scoundrels must have had someone on the watch," Reuben said,
"or they would never have taken the alarm so soon. I am sorry, now,
that we did not send a party round to the other side before we
charged down upon them; but my blood was on fire at the sight of
the burning station, and at the thought of the women in the hands
of those scoundrels."
A minute later, a man rode up at full speed from behind.
"Is that you, Jones?" Reuben said, stepping forward.
"Yes, sir," the man replied, reining in his horse. "I left Wilkins
behind, and rode on to tell you what had happened."
"What has happened, Jones?"
"It's a bad business, sir, a shocking bad business; but it might
have been worse. It seems they broke in about half an hour before
we got there. One of the hands was supposed to be on watch in the
stockyard; but either he was asleep, or they crept up to him and
killed him before he could give the alarm. Then they got up to the
house and burst in the door, before the others were fairly awake.
"They shot the two hands at once; but I suppose, as their blood
wasn't up, and no resistance was offered, they thought they had
plenty of time for fooling; for they must have reckoned that no
force they need be afraid of could be got together, for three or
four hours. So they made Donald and his wife and sister get
breakfast for them. The women, it seemed had got pistols, and both
swore they would blow out their brains if any man laid a hand on
them. However, the bush rangers did not touch them, though they
told them they would have to go off with them.
"They made Donald sit down at one end of the table, while their
captain took the other; and the two women, half dressed as they
were, waited on them. It was lucky for them that we were so close
when the alarm was given, for all made a rush to get to their
horses; only the captain stopping a moment, to let fly at Donald."
"Did he kill him?" Reuben asked.
"No, sir, the bullet hit him in the body, and the ladies were
crying over him when I went in, thinking he was dead. I thought so,
too, but I found he was breathing. They poured some brandy down his
throat, and presently he opened his eyes; then, as there was
nothing for me to do, I thought I had best gallop on and give you
the news, for I knew that you would be anxious to know what had
taken place."
"Thank you, Jones, you did quite right. What an escape those poor
ladies have had! Another quarter of an hour, we might have been too
late, for those villains would not have kept up the farce long."
"No, sir, especially as they were drinking wine. The table was all
covered with bottles."
"You did not see anything of Jim, did you?" Reuben inquired.
"No, sir, I did not see or hear anyone stirring about the place."
Reuben gave a loud cooey.
"That will bring him, if he is anywhere within hearing."
But no answering call came back.
"I hope nothing has happened to the poor fellow," Reuben said,
after a pause.
"He could not possibly be here by this time," Mr. Barker said. "The
place where he warned the shepherd must be sixty miles from here."
"Yes, quite that; but he can run nearly as fast as a horse can go,
and he would be ten miles nearer here, in a straight line, than the
way the man went round to fetch me."
As soon as it became light they followed the track, which was
plainly visible; but when they had gone half a mile further, there
was a general cry of dismay--the ground was trampled in every
direction.
"Confound it," Mr. Barker said, "they have done us! Do you see,
they have ridden right into the middle of a large herd of cattle,
and have driven them off in every direction; and have, no doubt,
themselves scattered among the cattle. They may go like that for
three or four miles, and then draw off from the cattle at any spot
where the ground is hard, and no tracks will be left; to meet again
at some appointed place, maybe fifty miles away."
"Then you don't think it's any use in pursuing them?" Reuben asked,
in a tone of deep disappointment.
"Not a bit in the world," Mr. Barker replied decisively. "If we had
a native tracker with us, he might possibly follow one horse's
track among those of all the cattle, discover where he separates
from them, and take up his trail; but I doubt, even then, if he
would be successful. These fellows know that a strong party is in
pursuit of them, and each of them will do everything they can to
throw us off the scent. They are sure not to go straight to their
place of meeting, but each will take circuitous routes, and will
make for thick bush, where it will be next to impossible for even a
native to follow them. No, they have done us, this time."
"Well, gentlemen, I hope you will all wait as long as you can at
the station here. If my boy has not been shot by those scoundrels,
he is sure to find his way here; and will be able, in all
probability, to set us on the right track.
"At any rate, though the bush rangers have given us the slip, we
may congratulate ourselves on our morning's work. We have at least
saved those poor ladies."
So saying, Reuben turned and, with the party, rode slowly back to
the station. On arriving there, they dismounted and unsaddled their
horses, and turned them into a paddock close to the house, to feed.
Reuben and Mr. Barker then went up to the house. The constable who
had been left behind came out.
"Well, Wilkins, how is Mr. Donald, and how are the ladies?"
"He is sensible now, sir; but I don't think there's much chance for
him."
"We ought to get a surgeon, at once," Reuben said. "Who is the nearest,
Mr. Barker?"
"The nearest is Ruskin."
"Is there no one nearer than that?" Reuben asked. "Why, he lives
about halfway between where I was sleeping last night, and my own
place. It must be seventy miles away."
"He's the nearest," Mr. Barker said; "take my word for it."
"I'll tell you what will be the best plan," Reuben's host of the
night before said. "I will ride at once to Mr. Barker's and, if he
will let me get a fresh horse there, I will gallop straight back to
my place, and will send a man off the moment I arrive there to
fetch Ruskin.
"It is only eight o'clock now. I can be home before noon, and my
man will do the next stage in a little over four hours. If he finds
Ruskin in, he can get to my place by ten o'clock at night, and can
start again at daybreak; so by eleven o'clock tomorrow he can be
here. If he isn't here by that time, it will be because he was out
when my man got there. At any rate, he is sure to start directly he
gets the message."
"That will be the best plan," Reuben agreed; "and I am sure the
ladies will be greatly obliged to you, when I tell them what you
have undertaken."
"Oh, that's nothing," the settler said. "We don't think much of a
seventy miles' ride, here."
Without any further delay, the settler saddled his horse and went
off at a gallop towards Mr. Barker's, where he was to get a fresh
mount.
"And now, how are the ladies, Wilkins?"
"They are keeping up bravely, sir. I think, as far as they are
concerned, Donald's being hit has done them good. It has given them
something to do, and they have not had time to think about what
they have gone through, and what a narrow escape they have had."
"Which room are they in, Wilkins?"
"In there to the left, sir."
"As you have seen them, Wilkins, you had better go in and tell them
that we have sent off, at once, to fetch a surgeon; and that they
may rely upon his being here some time tomorrow, we hope before
noon. Ask if there is anything that we can do for them, or for Mr.
Donald."
The policeman went in, and Reuben called one of his other men.
"Perkins, do you, Jones, and Rider go in and fetch out the bodies
of the men who have been killed. Don't make more noise than you can
help about it. Carry them out to that shed there, and then get a
bucket and wash down the floors, wherever there are bloodstains
about. I want to have the place straight, so that those poor ladies
may avoid seeing anything to recall the scene they have passed
through. Of course, you won't go into the room where they are now."
Three or four of the settlers at once volunteered to set to work to
dig a grave.
"Choose a place a bit away from the house," one of them said. "The
farther, the better; it will remind them of this affair, whenever
they see it."
While Reuben was arranging this point, the constable had come out
and told Mr. Barker the ladies would be glad to see him.
"It's a terrible business," the settler said to Reuben, as he
turned to go into the house. "I feel downright afraid of facing
them. To think how bright and pretty they looked, when I rode over
here ten days ago; and now there they are, broken hearted."
He returned in a few minutes.
"How is Donald?" was the general question.
"He is hard hit," the settler said, "just under the ribs on the
right-hand side. I expect the fellow aimed at his head, but he was
starting from his seat at the moment. He isn't in much pain. I have
told them they must keep him perfectly quiet, and not let him move
till the surgeon comes.
"They have asked me to see about everything. It's better we should
not be going in and out of the house, as he must be kept perfectly
quiet; so I think we had better establish ourselves under that big
tree over there. There are some sheep half a mile over that rise,
if two of you will go over, kill one and fetch it in. If you will
light a fire under that tree, I will hand out from the house flour,
tea, sugar, and some cooking things."
There was a general murmur of approval, for all felt silent and
awed at being so close to the house of death and sorrow. Two men
got their horses, and rode off to fetch the sheep. The others
carried the various articles requisite up to the place fixed for
the bivouac, while Wilkins was installed in the house, to assist in
anything that might be required there.
"The poor things told me to tell you, captain, how grateful they
felt to you for the exertions you have made. I told them how it was
we came to be here; and how you had ridden, when you got the news,
to be here in time. Mrs. Donald did not say much, poor thing, she
seemed half dazed; but her sister, who seems wonderfully cool and
collected, quite realized what they had escaped; and there's many a
young fellow who would give a good deal, to win that look of
gratitude she gave me when she said:
"'I shall never forget what I owe you all.'
"I am just going to send off one of my men, to fetch my wife over
here. It will be a comfort to the two girls, for they are little
more, to have a woman with them."
"There's nothing to be done for Donald, I suppose?" Reuben asked.
"Nothing. The wound is hardly bleeding at all. I told them that, as
far as I knew, the best thing was to keep on it a flannel dipped in
warm water, and wrung out; and that they should give him a little
broth, or weak brandy and water, whenever he seemed faint. My
surgery does not go beyond that. If it had been a smashed finger,
or a cut with an axe, or even a broken limb, I might have been some
good; for I have seen plenty of accidents of all kinds, since I
came out twenty years ago, but a bullet wound in the body is beyond
me, altogether."
After the meal was cooked and eaten, there was a consultation as to
what had best be done next. Two or three of the settlers who were
married men said that they would go home, as their wives would be
anxious about them. The rest agreed to stop for, at any rate,
another day.
Mr. Barker had found out from Mrs. Donald's sister the direction in
which the sheep and cattle were grazing, and two or three of the
party rode off to tell the shepherds and herdsmen--for there were
three men on the farm, in addition to those who had been
killed--what had happened; and to tell them that they had better
bring the sheep and cattle up to within a mile or so of the house,
and come in themselves for their stores, when required.
A grave was now dug, and the three men buried. In the afternoon
Mrs. Barker arrived, and at once took charge of the affairs of the
house. In the evening Mr. Barker came up to the fire round which
the men were sitting.
"Will you come down to the house, Captain Whitney? The ladies have
expressed a wish to see you. They want to thank you for what you
have done."
"There is nothing to thank about," Reuben said. "I only did my duty
as a police officer, and am disgusted at those scoundrels having
got away. I have done all I could, since I arrived; but I can't
help feeling, being in command of the force here, that we are to
some extent to blame for these fellows carrying on, as they have
done for months, without being caught."
"I think you had better come down, Whitney," Mr. Barker said.
"There is something bright and hopeful about you, and I think that
a talk with you might cheer the poor things up a bit. When people
are in the state they are, they seem to turn to everyone for a
gleam of hope, and comfort."
"Oh, if you think I can do any good, of course I will go; though I
would rather stop here, by a good way."
So saying, Reuben went down with Mr. Barker to the house. A lady
met them at the door.
"Arthur has just dozed off," she whispered. "Mrs. Barker is sitting
by him. She insisted on our coming out. Will you come in here?"
As silently as possible, the two men followed her into the kitchen,
and closed the door after them. The fire was blazing brightly,
Wilkins having piled on some fresh logs before going out to smoke a
pipe. Mrs. Donald was sitting in a dejected attitude, by its right,
when her sister entered with Mr. Barker and Reuben. She rose and,
coming towards Reuben, said:
"How can we thank you, sir, for the exertions you have made, and
for having saved us from I dare not think what fate? As long as we
live, my sister and I will bless you."
"I can assure you, Mrs. Donald," Reuben said, "that I have done
nothing but my duty, and I only regret that we did not arrive half
an hour earlier."
"Ah, if you had!" Mrs. Donald said. "But there--we must not
repine--even in my sorrow, I feel how much we have to be thankful
for."
"Yes, indeed," her sister said, "we have truly reason to be
grateful."
As she spoke, Reuben looked at her more and more intently. He had
started when she first spoke, outside the house.
"Good heavens!" he exclaimed, "is it possible, or am I dreaming?
Surely you are Miss Kate Ellison?"
"Certainly I am," she said in surprise, at his tone; "but I don't
think--I don't remember--why, surely it is not Reuben Whitney?"