"Hark! there be murmurs heard in Lara's hall,
A sound--a voice--a shriek--a fearful call!
A long loud shriek--and silence--did they hear
That frantic echo burst the sleeping ear?"
BYRON.
At a certain spot on the Darling Downs approaching towards their
northern extremity, and where the country divides the eastern from the
western water-sheds, a party was encamped for the night round their
fire; on which preparations were being made by a civilized black for the
evening meal of white men, who lay stretched on the ground in the full
enjoyment of their "doodeens." The culinary operator was Joey, and the
recumbent beings were his master and the shepherds, who had progressed
thus far with a flock of sheep, on their way from New England to Fern
Vale.
The weather that had spread devastation over the face of the country,
was equally fatal in its effects to the flock of our hero. He had
attempted to force their march so as to reach his destination before
their entire destruction, but was at last constrained to halt in a
state, both to man and beast, of perfect exhaustion. He had been the
more anxious to reach his own station as he was aware that, after the
long and severe drought the district had been visited with, a flood
might be expected as the inevitable consequence; and that if he were
caught in it the strong probability was that he would lose the remaining
half of his flock. Further progression, however, for his exhausted
sheep, he saw was, at least for a time, perfectly hopeless; and he felt
his only alternative was to wait for the rain, which from the
portensions of the sky, was not far distant. Therefore a rude hut, or
arborous shelter of boughs and saplings, was erected to shield him and
his companions from the rays of the sun, and they waited with what
patience they could assume for the pluvial blessing so much prayed for
all over the country.
Here then the party was located, anxiously waiting for the advent of the
propitious event that would admit of their progression; and, on the
evening we have discovered them to the reader, they were dragging out in
listless idleness the remainder of an intolerably hot day, too much
enervated to indulge in any exertion or conversation. While John
Ferguson, who was possibly even more taciturn than his companions, was
absorbed in his own gloomy thoughts, occasioned by the inauspicious
result of his journey, he with his colleagues was suddenly aroused from
his lethargy by a most unearthly sound in the close proximity of their
camp. He instantly started to his feet, and was greeted with a burst of
demoniacal laughter that made his very blood curdle in his veins.
Before him stood a being evidently human, but no more like his first
prototype than Gabriel to Lucifer; a man wild and dishevelled in
appearance; his eyes like balls of fire; and his face and other parts of
his body, perceptible from his all but state of nudity, cut and
bleeding. In the fitful light of the camp fire he had more the
appearance of one of the eliminated shades of Hades than an habitant of
this world. The startled and affrighted quartette, who had been
interrupted by his unexpected appearance, gazed on the object with
wonder, commiseration, and alarm; for his condition was speedily made
palpable by his wild gesticulations and incoherent utterance. He was
mad, and in that most to be deplored state of madness--delirium
tremens.
John Ferguson advanced a few steps towards the man with the object of
leading him to their temporary abode; but the maniac warned him off by
a wave of the hand, and darted off again into the settling obscurity
with the fleetness of an arrow. No human creature in such a condition
could be permitted thus to rush to inevitable death by observers with
any spark of Christian charity. John Ferguson and his companions felt
this, and notwithstanding the darkness of the night, and the
interminable nature of the bush around them, they instantly pursued the
fugitive, being guided in his track by his fearful cries and yells.
The chase was tedious, and but for an accident might have been
fruitless. The unnatural stimulus of madness lends powerful aid to the
cartilaginous anatomy of its victims; so that, notwithstanding the
evident fatigue that this wretched inebriate had sustained, his crural
muscles performed their functions with even more force and facility than
those of his athletic pursuers; and he continued to keep considerably in
advance of them. But his course was providentially checked by a fall,
that not only stopped him in his headlong career of destruction, but
extinguished the treacherous spark that had stimulated his system, and
then left him prostrate and perfectly paralysed. When his pursuers came
up, and by the light of a "firestick" gazed upon him, they found him
writhing in agony on the ground, foaming at the mouth, gnashing his
teeth, and actually biting the very dust in the intensity of his
suffering. Nature could not long stand so fearful a tax as this without
speedily succumbing. Reason had already been hurled from her throne by
the arrogated sway of the incensed devils of debauch, and strength and
consciousness had been expatriated by the usurpation; while life was all
but extinguished. In this state he was borne by his rescuers back to
their camp, and tended with every care they could devise; but when he
awoke to consciousness, it was only to add the horrors of a raging fever
to those of dementation; the more fearful on account of the inability
of his attendants to afford him any assistance.
To truthfully describe his appearance, or his sufferings, as he lay
rending the air with his fearful and impious imprecations, would not
only be beyond our powers of portrayal, but would have none other effect
than to sicken and disgust our readers. Nevertheless we feel
constrained, fain as we would draw a veil over the scene, to continue
our description for the furtherance of temperance and morality. The man
remained for fully twenty-four hours in the state we have mentioned;
when the exacerbation of his malady threatened to terminate his
existence. No hope of relief could be entertained, for none was
procurable in such a situation; even had the exhausted travellers been
capable of seeking it. So that the wretched being's doom seemed
inevitably sealed.
At this moment the Fern Vale party were startled by the sudden
appearance of two others, who came seeking their comrade, and bore in
their countenances almost as indelible a stamp of dissipation as that on
the visage of the dying madman. From these new comers John learnt that
the three had been travelling in company of a bullock dray, and being
unable to proceed on their journey, through the loss of the greater
portion of the team, they had all been engaged in a social wassail on
some grog they had had in charge; and for a considerable period had all
been more or less drunk. Their companion had been in a fit of delirium
tremens for days; and while in a state of madness had suddenly gone,
they knew not, nor at the time cared not, whither. But finding he did
not return as they had anticipated even their besotted natures began to
take alarm for his safety, and had induced them to go in search of him.
The two men now stood by the prostrate and paralysed form of their late
robust companion, on whom, blunted and debased as were their own
feelings, they could not gaze without emotions; and as they witnessed
the glaring blood-shot eyes, rotating in their sunken and discoloured
sockets, the pendent jaw which left the parched tongue protruding from
the open mouth, the colourless emaciated cheeks which contrasted
fearfully with the sore and livid lips, the generally wasted frame, the
shaking though powerless hands imploring with the looks of distracted
vision, and the ineffectual attempts to articulate the cravings for that
very poison which was fast hastening a commingling of his putrid carcass
with its native dust, their hearts sickened within them. They, however,
knew the purport of his signs; and subdued as they were by the presence
of the destroying angel, and chastened by the momentary visitations of
compunction, their devotion to their idol, and their belief in its
efficacies were such, that, even in the face of death, they exorcised
their destroying spirit. Before their motion could be anticipated, or
prevented by John Ferguson, one of the dying man's companions drew a
bottle from his bosom, and applied it to the lips of the sufferer.
The taste of the exhilarating poison effected a transitory release of
the bonds of death's victim. His hands clasped with a convulsive grasp
the endeared destroyer of his life; and as the spirit flowed into the
celiac channel of his wasted system, its consuming fire mantled his
cheek with an unnatural erubescence, shot from his lustrous eyes, and
imparted vigour to his inert frame. If the men's action had been noticed
in time John would have no doubt prevented the drink being given, though
it would have signified little; for no power on earth could have saved
the victim, while possibly the draught of spirits which he had taken
ameliorated his departing agonies. Be that as it may he had hardly
swallowed it than fresh strength seemed to have been imparted to his
frame. He then started to his feet, waved the bottle above his head with
a fiendish laugh, and fell to the ground a corpse.
Can mortals ever be rescued from the fearful infatuation of drink? Can
rational and sentient beings ever be brought to an abhorrence of that
vile and bestial vice that equally destroys the intellect and degrades
the body? or will reason ever inculcate in the mind of man the virtue of
temperance, so as to use without abusing the gifts of a bountiful
providence? Let an incorrigible drunkard stand before such a scene as we
have attempted to describe, and for five minutes witness the agonies and
death of a fellow inebriate; let his soul commune with the tortured
spirit of the wretched victim of intemperance; let him witness the
horrors of delirium tremens, that tear to pieces both body and life, and
consigns them to the lowest depths of perdition; let him not only
witness but feel the hell that burns up the very soul of the blind
votaries of Bacchus; and let him witness the last struggle, the tortuous
departure of the spirit, accompanied with the blasphemous ribaldry of
the vile worm that, while insinuating its eliminated spirit before the
judgment-seat of its Maker, dares to utter its arrogant defiance to the
august and omnipotent Creator. Let him see this; tell him this is the
consequence of intemperance possibly only indulged in moderately at an
early stage, but growing by degrees as evil does grow, like the
gathering avalanche accumulating in its downward progress until it
reaches its final descent amidst universal destruction. Tell him also
that a similar fate awaits every drunkard, and tell him, if he turns not
away from his course of vileness, such will be his; then, if his
conscience does not lead him to penitence through such a lesson, no
human effort can save him.
The state of the weather, the mortification of the body, and its
consequent immediate decomposition, made it imperative that no time
should be lost in the interment of the corpse. The funeral obsequies
were speedily performed, with little more ceremony than what would
attend the burying of an animal, while nothing marked the spot where
lay the bones that would in all probability be soon forgotten. The two
men then took their departure, and we doubt not would soon return to
their carouse; such is the quickness with which man forgets the
visitations of the warning hand of God.
A few days after the event we have just narrated the rain that had been
so long threatening at last appeared with one of those terrific
thunder-storms which the colonies are in the summer visited with; and
speedily the whole surface of the country became deluged. The arid and
thirsty soil drank in the moisture, and almost spontaneously shot forth
its herbage. The flock was then enabled to luxuriate on the tender
grasses and, notwithstanding the deluging rains, to pursue its journey
with more comfort than it had experienced for some considerable time
previously.
For a week the rain continued with unabating violence when John Ferguson
and his flock struck the course of the Gibson river near Brompton. The
river was "bank high" at the time, rolling its swollen volume on in
sullen impetuosity; while the ground around was so saturated and swampy
that the travelling of the sheep was exceedingly tedious; and their
owner began to feel anxious lest their course should be altogether
impeded. He, however, managed to push on past Brompton, when the weather
happily moderated; and though still overcast, and rainy-looking, the
actual fall of water ceased. The respite was made good use of by John
Ferguson, who pushed on as rapidly as he could, and he arrived at the
Wombi without any interruption; but there he met with a check he had
little anticipated. He fully expected the bridge would be level with the
water or even covered, and thought that he might have to wait for the
river to fall; but the volume of water had considerably subsided and
left no trace of the structure he and his neighbours had erected. It had
in fact been washed away by the flood, and he was made painfully aware
that the only course open to him was to wait until the swollen current
became sufficiently reduced to make it practicable to swim over his
sheep. With that object he camped his party and flock on the bank of the
Wombi.
For some days they waited in this position; but the river,
notwithstanding that the rain had ceased, fell very slowly; while the
surrounding gloominess plainly indicated an additional visitation of wet
as not far distant. In conjunction with this the sheep began to show
signs of foot-rot; and John, becoming anxious to get them home,
considered it better under the circumstances to attempt a passage of the
river at once. Acting on this decision he removed the flock to the old
crossing-place and attempted the transit.
Two of his men had, by the aid of a horse, swam the river, and a large
number of the sheep had either crossed or were struggling in the
current, when a noise was heard that struck our hero with dismay. The
distant roll of thunder, combined with the roar of battle, would convey
but an imperfect idea of its nature. Distinct and more distinctly came
the sound and, while the darkened atmosphere lent its gloom to the
mighty convulsion that seemed to rend the earth, the cause of the noise
seemed to approach nearer and nearer. Though John had never seen the
sudden rising of a river he had heard of such phenomena, and guessed
that the sound that he then heard was the harbinger of such an event. He
therefore used all his exertions, with those of Joey and the white man
that had remained with him on the upper bank of the Wombi, to prevent
the remainder of the sheep from following their fellows into the water.
They were with difficulty diverted from the stream; and those that had
already crossed, being driven by the men as far as possible from the
influence of the tide, John waited with an intense anxiety to watch the
fate of those that would of a certainty be overtaken by the current.
The flood was in the Gibson river, and its cause can be easily explained
in a few words. Towards its source the rain had been continuous, and the
water-holes and surcharged swamps being filled to repletion, had burst
their bounds and added their immense volumes to the already swollen
stream. This imparted a force and impetuosity even greater than the
current had previously possessed, and forced the water in one immense
body down its course. On and on it swept like the monstrous rolling
surge of the ocean, carrying to inevitable ruin everything that it
overtook in its passage. John stood on an elevation sufficiently high to
enable him to watch the progress of the destructive fluid; and, with his
gaze alternately directed to it and his sheep still swimming in the
stream at his feet, he calculated their chances of reaching the bank in
safety. For this, however, he had little time, for the progress of the
flood was quicker than that of his thoughts; and the sudden rise in the
Gibson, as the deluge approached, caused a similar one in the Wombi. As
the main body in the river swept past, it flooded the minor stream with
its back current, sending the reversed tide, seething and swelling, up
its narrow channel, and carrying with it some hundreds of the swimming
sheep, most of which were drowned in their vain struggles with the
element.
Unfortunate as this was John gave vent to no vain regrets, but at once
decided how he would act. He knew that the brunt of the flood was over,
and that the water would speedily fall in the river. He therefore
determined to camp where he was for the night, and in the morning to
send on the portion of his flock on the opposite side of the river,
while he waited with the remainder until the flood should have so far
receded as to permit his crossing them with safety. He communicated his
plans to both sections of his party, while Joey lit a fire and prepared
a camp.
Towards midnight, when everything was hushed in the nocturnal stillness,
Joey came softly to his master, who was stretched in his blanket before
the fire on the damp ground, and awoke him from his sleep. John, when he
was aroused, instantly started up in the full expectation of some fresh
misfortune, and hastily demanded of Joey what was the matter.
"You no hear, massa?" replied Joey; "you listen. The black fellows come
back again and make great noise."
John listened attentively for some moments, and unmistakably
distinguished the sounds of blacks' voices, though what was the purport
of the noise he could not conjecture. It was evident to him they had
returned to the neighbourhood and, from the sounds he heard, in
considerable numbers. But where could they be camped? he asked himself;
surely not at their old ground in the scrub, he thought; for the noise
plainly indicated a closer proximity. In fact, it sounded to him as if
it emanated from somewhere about Strawberry Hill, if not from that very
place. Then John's thoughts led him to make the enquiry what could bring
them across the Gibson; if they had any object in visiting Strawberry
Hill; and if so, what that object could be? His thoughts, once led into
such a channel, were not long in picturing a gloomy catalogue of
probable causes. A remembrance of Rainsfield's cruelties was too
indelibly impressed upon his mind to be forgotten, and the scene he had
witnessed at the blacks' camp on the night previous to their departure
was instantly conjured up in all its horrors. Though the disappearance
of the blacks for months had momentarily dimmed his memory to the pangs
he then witnessed and felt, they were instantly remembered when his mind
reverted to the subject; and he vividly recollected the ebullition of
evil passions that had been kindled in the breasts of some of the
survivors and relatives of the victims. In his fancy he heard anew the
threat of revenge that was uttered against Rainsfield; and he began to
entertain the belief that the blacks were at the station of Strawberry
Hill, and had come there for the purpose of wreaking vengeance on their
destroyer and his family at a time when they would imagine their
visitation least expected.
At the same time, however, he could not bring his mind to imagine that
the blacks would be bold enough to attack the whole station, being
confident the knowledge of the superior prowess of the whites would
deter them, besides their dread of fire-arms, which, they would know at
least all the men on the station would possess. He had no doubt, either,
but that Rainsfield, having incurred the enmity of the aborigines, would
take every precaution against surprisal, and believed that he could,
with the assistance of one or two of his men, preserve himself against
the assaults of a hundred of the blacks. But still John Ferguson could
not divest his mind of some degree of apprehension, which
(notwithstanding his endeavours to calm the perturbation his train of
thoughts had led him to experience) still lingered there, and dark
forebodings disturbed his brain.
"Where are they, do you think, Joey?" he enquired, as if he wanted
corroboration of his own senses.
"Strawberry Hill, I believe, massa," was the reply.
"I am afraid so, too," said John; "and I fear they are up to no good. If
they were only going to rob the store they would never make so much
noise over it."
"No, massa, they not go to rob the store," said Joey; "they be frighted
to do that again, I believe; taltoe (food) kill too many black fellow
that time when they steal 'em ration; they be going to kill now, I
believe."
"That's what I've been thinking too, Joey," replied his master; "but
they wouldn't have any chance if the white fellows had guns."
"I don't know, massa," replied the black boy; "p'rhaps no, p'rhaps
yes--black fellows be very frightened of guns; but the Nungar black
fellows, you pidner (know), very wild and budgery belonging to fight
(good at fighting), and bael they lik'em (hate) Mr. Rainsfield; so I
believe they will try very hard to kill him."
"I've no doubt they will," replied his master, "if they can get a mark
at him; but if he keeps himself and his men within the house they will
be able to fire away at the blacks without giving them a chance at
themselves."
"White fellows all sit down liket huts," said Joey, by which he meant to
imply that the men in all probability would be in their own huts,
removed from the house of the station; "and," he continued, "bael Misser
Rainsfield fight 'em all round big fellow humpie; and black fellow, when
he find 'em bael come out, he gett'um firestick, and mak'em humpie one
fellow-corbon fire;" which may be rendered into our vernacular by
saying, that Rainsfield would be unable of himself to protect all parts
of the dwelling; while the blacks would unhouse him by setting on fire
the building, which it must be remembered was of wood.
John mused a few minutes in a reverie, in which his feelings sustained a
violent convulsion. That love preserved a prominent position we have no
doubt; and, also, that apprehension for the safety of the object of that
love maintained a lively agitation in his mind. We fear we must not
attribute his sympathy and anxiety for the family to a general
friendship alone, but to the additional stimulus of a more inspiring
feeling. However, we will not arrogate to ourselves the censorship of
his motives, but simply confine ourselves to a recordance of events.
"Joey, get my horse and saddle him," said John, turning to the boy, who
was standing with his body bent in an attitude to catch the floating
sound of the blacks' voices.
Joey turned his eyes, looking surprised at his master; and though he did
not actually ask him the nature of the work he intended to require of
his horse, his manner and hesitation made that inquiry; and his master
devising its meaning voluntarily made the explanation.
"I will go over at once to Strawberry Hill, Joey," he said, "and see
what the blacks are doing; for I cannot bear this suspense, and I fear
the morrow will disclose some fearful work."
"Bael you cross the river, masser," cried the boy; "too much water sit
down. Bael you swim, masser? More liket be drowned."
"Don't make yourself uneasy, Joey," replied his master, "my horse has
taken me over worse floods than that; it is only back water from the
Gibson, and there is very little current."
"But oh! massa, bael you go! supposing you cross river, and supposing
black fellows fight with Misser Rainsfield, what you can do? bael you
got 'um gun or pistol, and black fellow have plenty spear; so you do
nothing, and black fellow only kill you."
"No fear, Joey," said John. "The blacks would have no object in killing
me; and if they are congregated at Strawberry Hill, to commit some
outrage as I suspect, I may be enabled to effect some good by inducing
them to abandon their scheme; or, at least, I can afford some assistance
to the family they are attacking."
"Oh no, massa! I tell you no," exclaimed the poor faithful attendant.
"These black fellows kill any white fellow now; bael they care for you
now; they come to kill Misser Rainsfield; and Misser Rainsfield's
friends liket help him they kill them too. Bael you go! Budgery massa!"
exclaimed the attached creature, as he threw himself down on the ground
before his master, and clung to his feet.
The expression and evidence of so much attachment in the poor boy
sensibly affected the kind nature of John Ferguson; and he was moved to
see so much genuine warmth and affection in one of a race which was
looked upon as incapable of such emotions--a race which is deemed by
professed judges of their nature to be destitute of all human virtue; to
be the lowest in the social scale; incapable of the inculcation of
civilisation, morality, and religion; to be only a stage above the brute
creation, and to be segregated by an insuperable barrier from all
sentient creatures. Could you, oh, self-sufficient philosopher (who
enunciate these doctrines), only present yourself before these two, and
penetrate with a visual percipiency the heart that beats in the breast
of that poor, prostrate black, thou wouldst surely be brought to
acknowledge the existence of that germ that was implanted in our first
parents by the omnipotent Creator. Thou wouldst also be brought to
acknowledge, unless prejudice blinded thine intellect, that, degraded as
that race which thou contemnest undoubtedly is, much of the weight of
that degradation has been the burdening of thine own countrymen. Say not
that, by the immutable decrees of Providence, the black races are
destined to disappear before the white, and to succumb their savage
natures and existence to advancing civilisation. Such may, or may not,
be so; but in either case how can you relieve yourself of the obligation
imposed upon you by the Supreme Being to ameliorate the condition of
that unfortunate people of whom you first rob their inheritance and then
sweep from the face of the earth, by instilling into their
unsophisticated natures all the vices incidental to yours; without
attempting their regeneration, or even an ethic inculcation.
John looked upon his faithful attendant as he implored him not to
venture either near the blacks or across the swollen river before him;
and he felt a pleasurable sensation, akin to gratitude, towards the poor
creature. It is true he had himself almost reared the poor boy, who had
been always near him; but the idea of so much attachment being in the
nature of the black had never occurred to him; and its discovery
therefore caused him astonishment.
"I must go, Joey," he said, "I have no fear for danger to myself; and if
anything should happen this night to the family at Strawberry Hill, and
I remained here, I shall ever accuse myself as being, by my selfish
neglect, accessary to their fate."
"Will massa let me go with him?" enquired the boy.
"No, Joey," replied his master; "I wish you to stop here with the
shepherd and sheep, until the water falls sufficiently to enable you to
cross with them; but get me my horse, I must lose no time;" saying which
he turned away to seek the shepherd, who was watching the flock, to give
him directions, while Joey performed the necessary services for the
horse.
The black boy went down with his master to the edge of the river, in
vain entreating to be permitted to accompany him, and stood on the
brink of the water as John plunged his horse into the dark rolling
stream. The night was black and cloudy and the opposite bank was hardly
discernible in the gloom; while the opaque waters rolled their disturbed
body in their sullen course. As John had said the river was not swift,
but it was deep and treacherous. Its tide, though swollen by the immense
volume in the Gibson, ran only slowly; but it was filled with eddies
caused by the stoppage of its own natural current. Its passage was
therefore more dangerous than perhaps it would have been had it been
running with the velocity of its parent stream.
As John entered the water the noble animal that carried him, guessing
the nature of the work that was expected of him, courageously breasted
the current, and swam for the opposite bank. For some minutes he could
have been seen speeding his course, with precision for his desired goal;
when anon he would be drawn into the vortex of one of those whirlpools
in which the stream then abounded, and from which his persevering beast
would extricate himself, and again struggle on his course. The horse and
rider had nearly reached the other side, and were almost lost to Joey's
sight in the obscurity, when suddenly both man and beast were entirely
submerged; and the next instant the animal's feet were plainly
discernible above water, in a state of violent agitation.
With one bound the black boy sprang into the water, and swam vigorously
for the spot where his master had disappeared; but his anxieties were
relieved by John's reappearance, and seeing him strike out for the bank
in company with his horse. Joey did not return when he perceived that
his master was safe, but pursued his course. Long and arduous was his
struggle, and he had enough to do to preserve himself from the eddies
and floating masses that were rotating in the pools, or that were
descending the stream. But he succeeded in crossing it without any
mishap, and he presented himself to his master as the latter was about
to mount his horse after his own dangerous passage.
"What, Joey!" exclaimed John as he witnessed the boy before him, "what
on earth has possessed you to risk your life in crossing the river by
yourself, and after my telling you I wanted you to stay with the sheep?"
"Oh! massa," replied the boy, "me thinkum you be drowned, when me been
seeum you capsized; bael me help coming after you to see you all right."
"Well, I suppose I must not be angry with you Joey," said his master.
"Oh no, massa!" replied the black, "but that very ugly capsize, how 'em
happen?"
"A log that was floating in one of the pools," said John, "turned the
horse over and me with him; but I kept hold of the bridle and reached
the shore safe enough, with only the addition of a little extra wetting.
But I can't stop now, Joey, I must not lose any more time, and you will
have to get back again as soon as you can; for that man you have left
on the other side will not be able to watch and 'shepherd' the sheep all
by himself. You can get your own horse that the two fellows crossed with
yesterday to take you back."
"But, massa, you let me come now with you? and I be over the river all
right liket morning."
"Well, come if you will," said his master, "you can follow me;" and he
dashed spurs into his horse and rode off.
Joey thus obtaining the permission he sought wasn't long in getting his
horse saddled, and he galloping after his master whom he overtook on the
road; as, notwithstanding his impatient haste, John was unable, owing to
the fatigue his horse had already endured in the water, to keep in
advance of the fresher steed of his black boy.
The two horsemen for some minutes rode rapidly side by side; and, as
they approached Strawberry Hill, they every moment became more
conscious, not only of the proximity of the blacks, but of their either
meditating, or actually perpetrating some diabolical work. These kept up
a chorus of voices which formed a perfect Babel of discord, resounding
through the still night, and reverberating among the vaulted and
umbrageous canopy of the bush like the conclaves of assembled
pandemonium. Anon this was succeeded by frantic yells that curdled the
very blood in John Ferguson's veins; and then shriek after shriek
pierced the air, telling too plainly the nature of the savages' work.
What further stimulus could John have had for his fears? Here was a
realization of his most direful dread. The very echo of the woods
proclaimed the fate of his friends; and possibly that being whom he
loved most on earth was by that wail numbered among the dead; her lovely
features defaced by the brutality of fiendish savages; and her fair form
mutilated and possibly dishonoured. The thought was too harrowing; it
deprived him of all consideration for his own person; the idea of his
own saftey never entered his mind, and unarmed and defenceless as he
was, he dashed the spurs again and again into the side of his steed, and
galloped madly until he reached the scene of horror. He sprang from his
horse, as the panting animal halted before the house, which was now
still and apparently desolate; while the retreating forms of the blacks
might have been seen by other eyes than John Ferguson's.