_ON THE WAR TRAIL._
Twelve men all told to march against a tribe consisting probably of
over a hundred and fifty warriors, armed for the fight, and
intoxicated with their recent success! It was a rash, an almost mad,
venture; but they did not for one moment dream of drawing back. They
would trust to their own superior skill to beat the enemy; trust to
that fortune that so often favours the brave; trusting--many of them
I hope--to that merciful Providence who protects the weak, and who,
in our greatest hour of need, does not refuse to listen to our
pleadings.
They had ridden some little way in silence, when suddenly Archie drew
rein.
"Halt, men!" he cried. "Halt for a moment and deliberate. Who is to
be the commander of this little force?"
"Yourself," said Gentleman Craig, lifting his hat "You are boss of
Burley Farm, and Mr. Cooper's dearest friend."
"Hear, hear!" cried several of the others.
"Perhaps it is best," said Archie, after a moment's thoughtful pause,
"that I should take the leadership under the circumstances. But,
Craig, I choose you as my second in command, and one whose counsel I
will respect and be guided by."
"Thank you," said Craig; "and to begin with, I move we go straight
back to Findlayson's farm. We are not too well armed, nor too well
provisioned."
The proposal was at once adopted, and towards sundown they had once
more reached the outlying pastures.
They were dismounting to enter, when the half-naked figure of a black
suddenly appeared from behind the storehouse.
A gun or two was levelled at him at once.
"Stay," cried Craig. "Do not fire. That is Jacoby, the black
stockman, and one of poor Mr. Findlayson's chief men. Ha, Jacoby,
advance my lad, and tell us all you know."
Jacoby's answer was couched in such unintelligible jargon--a mixture
of Bush English and broad Scotch--that I will not try the reader's
patience by giving it verbatim. He was terribly excited, and looked
heart-broken with grief. He had but recently come home, having
passed "plenty black-fellows" on the road. They had attempted to
kill him, but here he was.
"Could he track them?"
"Yes, easily. They had gone away there." He pointed north and east
as he spoke.
"This is strange," said Craig. "Men, if what Jacoby tells us be
correct, instead of retreating to their homes in the wilderness, the
blacks are doubling round; and if so, it must be their intention to
commit more of their diabolical deeds, so there is no time to be
lost."
It was determined first to bury their dear friends; and very soon a
grave was dug--a huge rough hole, that was all--and in it the
murdered whites were laid side by side.
Rupert repeated the burial-service, or as much of it as he could
remember; then the rude grave was filled, and as the earth fell over
the chest of poor old-fashioned Findlayson, and Archie thought of all
his droll and innocent ways, tears trickled over his face that he
made no attempt to hide.
The men hauled the gates of a paddock off its hinges, and piled wood
upon that, so that the wandering dingoes, with their friends the
rooks, should be baulked in their attempts to gorge upon the dead.
The blacks had evidently commenced to ransack the stores; but for
some reason or another had gone and left them mostly untouched.
Here were gunpowder and cartridges in abundance, and many dainty,
easily-carried foods, such as tinned meats and fish, that the unhappy
owner had evidently laid in for his friends. So enough of everything
was packed away in the men's pockets or bags, and they were soon
ready once more for the road.
The horses must rest, however; for these formed the mainstay of the
little expedition. The men too could not keep on all night without a
pause; so Archie and Craig consulted, and it was agreed to bivouac
for a few hours, then resume the journey when the moon should rise.
Meanwhile the sun went down behind the dark and distant wooded hills,
that in their strange shapes almost resembled the horizon seen at sea
when the waves are high and stormy. Between the place where Archie
and his brother stood and the light, all was rugged plain and
forest-land, but soon the whole assumed a shade of almost blackness,
and the nearest trees stood up weird and spectre-like against the
sky's strange hue. Towards the horizon to-night there was a deep
saffron or orange fading above into a kind of pure grey or opal hue,
with over it all a light blush of red, and hurrying away to the
south, impelled by some air-current not felt below, was a mighty host
of little cloudlets of every colour, from darkest purple to
golden-red and crimson.
There was now and then the bleating of sheep--sheep without a
shepherd--and a slight tinkle-tinkle, as of a bell. It was in
reality the voice of a strange bird, often to be found in the
neighbourhood of creeks and pools.
Hardly any other sound at present fell on the ear. By-and-bye the
hurrying clouds got paler, and the orange left the horizon, and stars
began to twinkle in the east.
"Come out here a little way with me," said Rupert, taking Archie by
the hand.
When they had gone some little distance, quite out of hearing of the
camp, Rupert spoke:
"Do you mind kneeling down here," he said, "to pray, Archie?"
"You good old Rupert, no," was the reply.
Perhaps no more simple, earnest, or heart-felt prayer was ever
breathed under such circumstances, or in such a place. And not only
was Rupert earnest, but he was confident. He spoke to the great
Father as to a friend whom he had long, long known, and One whom he
could trust to do all for the best. He prayed for protection, he
prayed for help for the speedy restoration of the stolen child, and
he even prayed for the tribe they soon hoped to meet in
conflict--prayed that the God who moves in so mysterious a way to
perform His wonders would bless the present affliction to the white
man, and even to the misguided black.
Oh, what a beautiful religion is ours--the religion of love--the
religion taught by the lips of the mild and gentle Jesus!
When they rose from their knees they once more looked skywards at the
stars, for they were brightly shining now; then hand-in-hand, as they
had come, the brothers returned to the camp.
No log-fire was lit to-night. The men just lay down to sleep rolled
in their blankets, with their arms close by their saddle pillows, two
being told off to walk sentry in case of a sudden surprise.
Even the horses were put in an enclosure, lest they might roam too
far away.
About twelve o'clock Archie awoke from an uneasy dreamful slumber,
and looked about him. His attention was speedily attracted to what
seemed a huge fire blazing luridly behind the hills, and lighting up
the haze above with its gleams. Was the forest on fire again? No;
it was only moonrise over the woods. Ha awakened Craig, and soon the
little camp was all astir and ready for the road. Jacoby was to act
as guide. No Indian from the Wild West of America could be a better
tracker.
But even before he started he told Craig the task would be an easy
one, for the black fellows had drunk plenty, and had taken plenty rum
with them. They would not go far, he thought, and there was a
probability that they would meet some of the band returning. Even in
the moonlight Jacoby followed the trail easily and rapidly.
It took them first straight for the forest that had been burned
recently--a thoughtless deed on the part of the whites, that probably
led to all this sad trouble.
There was evidence here that the blacks had gone into camp on the
very night of the massacre, and had held a corroboree, which could
only have been a day or two ago. There were the remains of the camp
fires and the trampled ground and broken branches, with no attempt at
concealment. There was a chance that even now they might not be far
away, and that the little band might come up with them ere they had
started for the day. But if they ventured to hope so, they were
doomed to disappointment.
Morning broke at last lazily over the woods, and with but a brief
interval they followed up the trail, and so on and on all that day,
till far into the afternoon, when for a brief moment only Jacoby
found himself puzzled, having fallen in with another trail leading
south and west from the main track. He soon, however, discovered
that the new trail must be that of some band who had joined the
Findlayson farm raiders.
It became painfully evident soon after that this was the correct
solution, for, going backwards some little way. Archie found a
child's shoe--one of a crimson pair that Bob had bought in Brisbane
for his little Diana.
"God help her, poor darling!" said Archie reverently, as he placed
the little shoe in his breast pocket. When he returned he held it up
for a moment before the men, and the scowl of anger that crossed
their faces, and the firmer clutch they took of their weapons, showed
it would indeed be bad for the blacks when they met these rough
pioneers face to face.
At sunset supper was partaken of, and camp once more formed, though
no fire was lit, cold though it might be before morning.
The men were tired, and were sound asleep almost as soon as they lay
down; but Craig, with the brothers, climbed the ridge of the hill to
look about them soon after it grew dark.
The camp rested at the entrance of a wild gully, a view of which
could be had, darkling away towards the east, from the hill on which
the three friends now found themselves.
Presently Rupert spoke.
"Archie," he said, "in this land of contrarieties does the moon
sometimes rise in the south?"
"Not quite," replied Archie.
"Look, then. What is that reflection over yonder?" Craig and Archie
both caught sight of it at the same time.
"By Saint George and merry England!" Craig cried exultingly, "that is
the camp of the blacks. Now to find Diana's other shoe, and the dear
child herself wearing it. Now for revenge!"
"Nay," said Rupert, "call it justice, Craig."
"What you will; but let us hurry down."
They stayed but for a moment more to take their bearings. The fire
gleams pointed to a spot to the south-east, on high ground, and right
above the gully, and they had a background of trees, not the sky. It
was evident then that the enemy was encamped in a little clearing on
a forest table-land; and if they meant to save the child's life--if
indeed she was not already dead--the greatest caution would be
necessary.
They speedily descended, and a consultation being held, it was
resolved to commence operations as soon as the moon should rise; but
meanwhile to creep in the darkness as near to the camp as possible.
But first Jacoby was sent out to reconnoitre. No cat, no flying
squirrel could glide more noiselessly through an Australian forest
than this faithful fellow. Still he seemed an unconsciously long
time gone. Just as Craig and Archie were getting seriously uneasy
the tinkle, tinkle of the bell-bird was heard. This was the signal
agreed upon, and presently after, Jacoby himself came silently into
their midst.
"The child?" was Archie's first question.
"Baāl mumhill piccaninny, belong a you. Pidney you."
"The child is safe," said Craig, after asking a few more questions of
this Scotch Myell black.
"Safe? and they are holding a corroboree and drinking. There is
little time to lose. They may sacrifice the infant at any time."
Craig struck a light as he spoke, and every man examined his arms.
"The moon will rise in an hour. Let us go on. Silent as death, men!
Do not overturn a stone or break a twig, or the poor baby's life will
be sacrificed in a moment."
They now advanced slowly and cautiously, guided by Jacoby, and at
length lay down almost within pistol-shot of the place where the
horrid corroboree was going on.
Considering the noise--the shrieking, the clashing of arms, the rude
chanting of songs, and awful din, of the dancers and actors in this
ugly drama--to maintain silence might have seemed unnecessary; but
these blacks have ears like wolves, and, in a lull of even half a
second, would be sharp to hear the faintest unusual noise.
Craig and Archie, however, crept on till they came within sight of
the ceremonies.
At another time it might have been interesting to watch the hideous
grotesqueness of that awful war-dance, but other thoughts were in
their minds at present--they were looking everywhere for Diana.
Presently the wild, naked, dancing blacks surged backwards, and,
asleep in the arms of a horrid gin, they discovered Bob's darling
child. It was well Bob himself was not here or all would quickly
have been lost. All was nearly lost as it was, for suddenly Archie
inadvertently snapped a twig. In a moment there was silence, except
for the barking of a dog.
Craig raised his voice, and gave vent to a scream so wild and
unearthly that even Archie was startled.
At once all was confusion among the blacks. Whether they had taken
it for the yell of Bunyip or not may never be known, but they
prepared to fly. The gin carrying Diana threw down the frightened
child. A black raised his arm to brain the little toddler. He fell
dead instead.
[Illustration: "A black raised his arm to brain the little toddler.
He fell dead instead. Diana was saved! Craig's aim had been a
steady one. Almost immediately after a volley or two completed the
rout."]
Craig's aim had been a steady one. Almost immediately after a volley
or two completed the rout, and the blacks fled yelling into the
forest.
Diana was saved! This was better than revenge; for not a hair of her
bonnie wee head had been injured, so to speak, and she still wore the
one little red-morocco shoe.
There was not a man there who did not catch that child up in his arms
and kiss her, some giving vent to their feelings in wild words of
thankfulness to God in heaven, while the tears came dripping over
their hardy, sun-browned cheeks.