WHAT BECAME OF ALEC.
Leaving Geordie lying for dead, Alec turned his back upon Wandaroo, and
surrounded by the gang of bushrangers, with whom he knew it was useless
for him to attempt to cope, he rode along he knew not whither. At first
he hardly noticed which way he was being taken; his grief was so keen
at the loss he had just undergone, and his chagrin at the frustration
of all their hopes, when so near their fruition, so bitter, that all
other feelings seemed withered up. A little later came the remembrance
of those at home, and with the desire of being useful to them and
helpful in the now quickly approaching time of their difficulties came
a new wave of feeling which seemed to rouse him from the mental apathy
into which he had fallen.
Without showing signs of his awakened observation, he began to take
note of their route. He knew the whole country about Wandaroo so well
that he recognised his position almost at once, although it was night.
They had left the Wandaroo run behind them, and were then on Taunton's
run, a great tract of land that had been allowed to slip back to a
state of wildness years before, when the owner and his only son had
been murdered by the _myalls_. Many of the outlying stations had been
permitted to revert in this way some years ago when times were at their
worst in Queensland, and when the unprotected pioneer families were
often butchered by the blacks.
The party must have been riding for fully an hour when Alec shook off
the cloud of lethargy that had enveloped him, for they were then many
miles from Wandaroo. For some time past Alec had heard the sound of the
men's voices as though he were in a dream, and without paying attention
to them, but at last he distinguished Starlight's voice; he was
speaking to Wetch, his worthy lieutenant.
"They'll be tracking us to-morrow, and as there is no reason that we
should let on where we are to be found, I think we had better get on to
the Dixieville road, where our traces will be trodden out by the next
flock of sheep that passes along."
This plan was carried out, and with the result that Starlight hoped
for, as it was at this very place that the Wandaroo black boys, who
tracked them next day, were thrown off the scent.
After riding for some distance along the rough, dusty, and ill-made
track that did duty for a road between Bateman and the decaying little
township of Dixieville, the party turned aside again, and continued its
southerly direction. The appearance of the country began to be wilder
again, and the fences, and whatever signs there were that the land had
at one time been occupied, were broken and rotting away. These signs of
decay and failure of purpose made the scene more desolate than it would
have been had it never been touched, for there are few things sadder
than to see a tract of country that has once been under cultivation, or
turned to some useful purpose, reverting to its former state of
wildness.
Alec judged from the talk and behaviour of the men that they were
approaching the place that, for the time being, they considered their
headquarters, and which they dignified with the name of home. They had
now been riding continuously for more than two hours since they had
left the neighbourhood of Wandaroo, and this part of the country was
new to Alec, although he had ridden once or twice along the Dixieville
road. The land had evidently been thickly wooded at one time, and in
places there were still great belts and patches of bush standing in all
its primeval majesty and gloom. Once or twice their road lay through
these wooded depths, and there the path was so dark that Alec did not
attempt to guide his horse. The moon had not yet set, but the silver
radiance which flooded all the topmost boughs failed to penetrate to
the depths below, and the track lay all in darkness, which was the more
profound in contrast with the patches of starlit sky that sometimes
could be seen through openings in the roof of shade above. Alec was an
old enough bushman to know that his horse would best find the way for
itself; indeed the creature seemed to know the road well enough without
guidance.
Shortly after passing through one of these stretches of bush they came
upon a low, rambling building, from the open door of which a feeble
light shone out. Alec had long given up hopes of seeing any signs of
habitation thereabouts, and noticing this light, he instinctively
turned his head to look at it, thinking that perhaps there was a chance
of rescue for him there. Starlight, who was always near him, seemed to
divine his thoughts, for he laid his hand on Alec's arm to attract his
attention, and with a backward nod of his head towards the house, he
said--
"You needn't look there. It is no go. They are friends of ours--and
neighbours too, for we have nearly come to the end of our journey--not
openly friends, you know, but in a quiet way. They have given us many a
useful hint and timely warning before now, and we, on our part, have
been able to do many things for them. They often dispose of things for
us that we have stolen. You see I make no stranger of you."
The cool way in which he talked, and the perfect openness of his
speech--hiding nothing of his own villainy, and not trying to make
himself out anything but what he was--might at another time, and under
different circumstances, have amused or interested Alec, but he could
not think of him in any other light than that of the murderer of his
brother, and every time that he spoke he raised Alec's anger and hatred
again to boiling point.
Very soon after passing this building, which Alec heard one of the men
speak of as "Lingan's," the party, at a slackened pace, began to climb
the slightly ascending opening between two dark hills which gave the
name of Norton's Gap to the place. The ground was covered with coarse
tall grass, and the young scrub that springs up over all lands that are
deserted for any length of time. Towards the end of this flat and open
sort of valley, in a very dreary-looking corner, out of sight of
Lingan's, and shut in from the world of men by the black and low bare
hills, were the crumbling ruins of a once large homestead.
The outer timbers of which the house was built were still standing, and
some sort of door hung between the heavy, rough-hewn posts, but in many
places the shingle roof had fallen in, pieces of the weather boarding
were torn away, and the one chimney was tottering to its fall. Here and
there great pieces of the bark which had once covered the walls were
flapping backwards and forwards in the soft night breeze, like the dark
wings of some foul carrion bird. No smoke rose from the wide, old
chimney, and no light shone out a welcome to them from the crazy doors
or windows. The whole place was the picture of squalid discomfort and
neglect; yet this house was the nearest approach to a home that any of
these wretched men could ever expect to possess. For a life of danger,
discomfort, wickedness, and squalor, with an occasional spell of foul
indulgence and debauch, had these men outlawed themselves from the
society of their fellows.
"Here we are, back again, minus two of our number, Pearson and Kearney,
but I expect Kearney will turn up again. I don't think he was hurt,"
said Starlight, as the gang, having crossed what had once been the
paddock, passed through a gap in the rotting fence into the yard.
"Yes, and a beastly hole it is to come back to," grumbled one of the
men. "Not a soul about the place, and not a spark of fire alight. I
wonder where that idiot Foster is."
It was evident that the men were sullen and out of humour at the ill
success of their expedition, on which they had been absent for several
days. They dismounted in silence, and each man, after unsaddling his
horse, led it to a small paddock, the fence of which had been repaired
in a hasty, untidy way, and turned it loose.
Starlight led Alec to the house, and kicking open the ill-hung door,
shouted out--
"Foster!"
They were standing in a dark, close sort of passage, very unlike the
usual entrance to a Queensland squatter's house, and Alec could see
absolutely nothing but Starlight's black figure outlined against the
grey space of sky that feebly shone through the open doorway. Como had
followed him into the house, and he could feel the dog close by him.
The presence of the dog, which kept quite close to his master, was a
comfort to Alec; he could not feel quite alone as long as the faithful
creature was there to thrust his cold muzzle into his hand, or to lay
his great paw up on his knee from sheer love of companionship. Upon
Starlight calling out a second time, they heard some one moving in a
room close by them, then the sound of a match being struck, and the
next minute a door was thrown open, and a blowsy, dishevelled-looking
man appeared, holding a flaring tallow candle above his blinking eyes.
"I didn't hear you. I was asleep. So you've got back, have you?" said
he, in a high, thin voice.
"Bless the man! I should think you could see that for yourself. Look
alive now, we are all hungry, and want something to eat in less than no
time."
Starlight led the way into the room as he spoke, and Alec followed, and
all the men speedily were collected there, for Australians do not
trouble themselves about grooming their horses or making them
comfortable. They soon had a fire blazing, for there was a stack of dry
wood in one corner of the room, and it was not unpleasant, though the
night was far from cold. Foster brought in damper and part of a sheep,
which some of the men proceeded to cut up and cook in a rough and ready
method at the fire. A short time served for this, and when it was
ready, Starlight turned to Alec with an air of the greatest politeness,
and said--
"May I offer you a little of your own mutton, Mr. Law? It comes from
Wandaroo, as we all of us prefer your strain of sheep to any other
about here. Not so large as some, but of a finer flavour."
Although so sick at heart, and so thoroughly wretched, Alec could not
help smiling at the cool impudence of the man, and he accepted a piece
of his own sheep in a thankful spirit, for it was long since he had
eaten, and he was completely worn out. Directly that supper was
finished--it did not take Foster long to clear away--pipes were
lighted, and a small keg of whisky being brought out from underneath a
sort of rough side table, on which were piled the men's hats, pistols,
and whips, the men began to smoke and drink and, what they called,
"enjoy themselves." It appeared to Alec to be a poor sort of enjoyment
that they experienced, for there was a furtive look of watchfulness on
the faces of all of them, although they tried to hide this expression,
and to wear a look of ease. He could see this eager look intensified if
there were any unusual or sudden noise. Once when the faint sound of a
dog barking down at Lingan's was carried to them on the quiet night
air, two or three of the men sprang quickly to their feet and looked
out in a way that spoke plainly enough of the constant state of painful
strain their minds must be in.
Very little more was said to Alec that night about the gold seeking he
was known to have been away upon. Starlight was trusting to Crosby's
powers of persuasion to get the information that he wished for from the
boy, so that he had not questioned him again himself. Since Crosby had
spoken his little message of friendship to Alec he had not dared to
talk to him again; he had, indeed, studiously avoided approaching him
so that the men might have no cause for suspicion.
Although he tried hard to keep awake, nature was too strong for Alec,
as she is for all of us, and soon after he had ended his supper he
nodded where he sat. The grief and excitement that he had suffered that
day, and the enormous fatigue he had endured, had quite worn him out,
and he felt that if his life depended upon it he could not keep awake.
Wetch, whose gloomy face was brightened for a time by the combined
influence of whisky and tobacco, was the first to notice Alec's
condition, and in, for him, a not unkind voice, he said--
"That chap there, Law, 'll be rollin' over into the fire before long if
he don't go and lie down. Where shall we putt him, Boss?"
"'E can hev' my room on t'other side of the pessage," said one of the
men, a little fellow, sallow and thin, whom they called "the cobbler,"
or "snob," indiscriminately.
"Thank you," said Starlight, in his most affable tone, "but I prefer to
have that rather slippery young gentleman under my own eye. You can
have that corner of the room if you like," said he, turning to Alec,
who was blinking like an owl. "There is a blanket there, and perhaps
you will excuse us going on with our conversation."
The poor lad was only too glad to accept this offer, and rising from
the overturned box on which he had been sitting, he stumbled across the
room to the corner that Starlight indicated, and throwing himself down
on the dirty blanket which was lying there, he instantly fell into a
profound, deep sleep.