Pals: Young Australians in Sport and Adventure

by Carol Norton

  *CHAPTER XXXIII*

  *BULLION AND BUSHRANGER*

  "And if you doubt the tale I tell, Steer through the South Pacific swell, Go where the branching coral hives Unending strife of endless lives, Go where the rivers roll down through the sand Under skies that are blue in a golden land." KIPLING.

  "Pull up a moment, chaps. I want ter say a word afore we strike JagoSmith's--we'll sight it over the next ridge. No blabbin' erbout thegold. The ole cove's sure ter arsk erbout our luck. You keep mum, an'leave me ter answer 'im. He's er good ernuff sort in hes way, is oleJago, an' me an' 'im always got on well, as 'e sort er took a fancy terme. All the same, 'im an' Ben Bolt is, or was great friends. That'swhy I steered clear o' the shootin the night we stayed there. 'E might'a' cut up rusty, like. Many's the time 'e's planted the 'ranger whenthe p'lice 'as been 'ot on 'is trail. 'Twuddent s'prise me a bit if thekid that wus Ben's mate wus 'idin' somewheres erbout Jago's. 'E'sseveral good plants. At any rate, there must be no blow. Bes' be onthe safe side."

  In a few minutes the party sighted the accommodation house at a distanceof a quarter of a mile or so. They could see the old man in the front,talking to a man who held a horse by the bridle. Even as the partysighted the pair they were themselves seen. After a few hasty wordswith Jago the horseman threw his bridle over the steed's neck, vaultedto the saddle, and rode away briskly.

  "By George, that 'ere cove's ridin' a good nag. See the style o' 'im!'E's a beauty, 'e is; all muscle an' spirit. If ole Ben wusn't a goner,I'd say 'twas 'im on Samson; blamed if I wuddent."

  The mounted band have approached the house by this time. The ownerstood awaiting them by the hitching posts. Saluting them as they rodeup, he jeered good-humouredly--

  "I 'opes yer left a few specks fur them fossikers, gintilmin? 'Twud betoo bad to scoop the pool an' leave the old uns nothin' but mullockheaps. At any rate, ye've brought back the tools--cradle an' all. Comenow, 'ow did the stuff pan out?"

  "I'll tell yer wot we did git, ole man, sore bones an' blistered 'ands.Blame me, but yer soon gits outer the diggin' business. Tried that bito' stuff I come acrost, wot the kid tole yer erbout. Waal, speakin' inconfidence, we didn't git ernuff ter hire a gold escort ter fetch iterlong. We did git a bit--ernuff ter make these young coves abreast-pin apiece. But let me tell yer, one of these days I'm comin'back ter have a good prospect. Keep it close, Smith; I don't want any ofthese blessed gully-rakers ter smell anythin'."

  "Dark it is, young feller. Yer can trust me fer not givin' the showaway. Comin' in?"

  "No, we're makin' fer 'ome. Just tote the tools ter where youse got'em, boys, an' then we'll be orf."

  The lads speedily discharged, and were in the saddle again. The partywas moving off when Harry said to Jago--

  "Forgot ter arsk yer whether yer 'eered that Ben Bolt wus shot byHennessey t'other day."

  "Yes, I 'eered it," replied Smith dryly.

  "Kid not collared yet?"

  "You're more likely ter 'eer about 'im than me: so-long."

  "Ole Jago's a deep un," soliloquised Harry as they rode along. "Iforgot ter arsk 'im erbout the man we saw ridin' away as we came up," heremarked a few minutes later to Joe, who was riding at his side. "Ifthat 'ere 'orse 'e wus ridin' warn't Samson, I'm a greenhorn."

  "It might have been the young fellow that got away when Ben was shot.It struck me Jago was bluffin' you, Harry."

  "My word, Harry," said Tom, riding up on the other side, "you bluffedole Jago over the gold."

  "Ain't so sure o' that," replied the stockman.

  "No one could have done it better," broke in Joe. "You circumnavigatedthe truth."

  "Don't know wot yer mean, my boy: unless it's somethin' in the circusline."

  "Not exactly that," replied Joe laughingly; "but it reminds me of anepitaph I heard about, that was stuck on a fellow's tombstone--

  HE TRIED HARD NOT TO BE A LIAR."

  "Wot I said about tacklin' that ground's true ernuff, anyways," repliedthe stockman, with a smile. "But erbout this gold: we'll go shares, o'course. We'll divide it up inter five equal lots when we get toBullaroi."

  "No; that's not fair, Harry," said Sandy. "We must have a fairdivision."

  "Well, wot yer call a fair division, if that's not one?" said the manshortly.

  "If it was left to me to decide, I would give you half, to start with.It was your show. You did most of the work. We were more like wagesmen; so at the very least you should get half. Then I'd divide theother half among the rest of us in equal shares."

  "Sandy's right," broke in Joe. "As far as I'm concerned, Harry'll havethe lot. I'd like him to take my whack, anyway, because----"

  "No, yer don't, Joe. I know wot yer goin' ter say. Think I'm meanernuff ter take pay fer shootin' a jolly shark?"

  "Oh--I--didn't--mean--it--just----"

  "Joe meant it as a mark of gratitude, Harry. I think my way's best.Whatcher say?"

  "Agreed!" chorus the four.

  "Joe, me mahn," said Denny a little while later, as he and Blain wereriding together, "cud ye tell me phwat me quarter ov a half ov th'gowld'll come to?"

  "Lemme see, seventy ounces; half o' that, thirty-five; quarter ofthirty-five is eight an' three-quarter ounces: yes, your share is eightan' three-quarters, Denny."

  "Give it in pounds, plaase, Joe."

  "Pounds! Oh, I say, you've got me there. Well, let's see. What was itHarry said they'd give us per ounce at the bank?"

  "Three sivinteen an' a tanner, Joe, me bhoy. Oi tuk note ov that."

  "Yes, that was the price, I 'member. Eight and three-quarter timesthree seventeen six--er--lemme see, that'd be--eight threes twenty-four,twen--bother it, I mean eight times seventeen an' six, that's a hundredan' ninety--no, _that's_ not it. Let me put it down in me mind--one,seven, six; that's right! Well, multiply it by eight, an' leave thequarters out for a bit. That's--why, it's three hundred an'--no, itcan't be that much, surely? Bust it, if I only had a pencil an' a bito' paper I'd soon tot it up. Try again. Eight into seventeen and sixis---- Blest if it isn't an interest sum, after all, Denny; an' theyalways sew me up."

  "It's th' troth, Joe; it's th' most interastin' sum Oi iver heerd telliv. Thry it agin, Marsther Joe; doan't let a little sum loike thatba-ate ye. 'Twas two hondered pounds ye said larrst. Make her go alittle higher if yes can."

  "What! two hundred pounds! Murder! 'tis shillin's I was reckoning."

  "O-o-h!" exclaimed Denny, with a profound sigh. "Awaay goes me brightdra-ames! Sure, thin, 'twas buyin' th' owld family carr-sthle Oi wasthinking ov, an makin' melyinaares o' me dear payrunts; maybe the Quaanwud be makin' me farther Lord Kineavy!"

  "Well, you are a cure, Denny. You'll have me addressin' you as theHonourable Dennis next. Oh, I say, didn't Harry say he wouldn't besurprised if the gold fetched four pounds an ounce, it was so rich?Well, let's reckon it at four quid. Eight fours are thirty-two--that'sthirty-two pounds. The three-quarters of four pounds is three.Thirty-two and three are thirty-five; thirty-five pounds. There youare, ole boss, thirty-five."

  "Thirty-foive pounds! Begorrah! it's a bloomin' capertillist Oi am!Whoi, glory be! it'll do betther thin buyin' a rotten owld sthonecarr-sthle made ov brick an' thatch; it'll pay for bringin' out mepayrunts in th' emigrr-ashon ship. Be Saints Pathrick an' Michael, 'tisa happy bhoy Oi am at this moment! Phwat wid me savin's, an' Norah's,an' this haape ov gowld, Oi'll buy thim th' best cabin on th' boat, andso Oi will!"

  In due time the party arrived at the junction of the roads, and crossedthe ridge to the cave entrance. After placing their horses in the patchof scrub near the road, they scrambled up to the opening. Lighting thecandle, Sandy led the way to the forage chamber, where the fish wasstored.

  "You don't feel so creepy, Denny, as when you were here last," said Tomto the Irish "boy, as they followed the others into the chamber.

  "It's thrue for ye, Tom.
Owld Ben's not thrubblin' me to-da-ay. 'Tisonly thinkin' ov me dear farther an' mauther comin' out on th' sa-ay Oiam. As for th' 'ranger, he's as dead an' dhry by this toime as thesmoked fish yonder."

  "Is he?" cried a loud voice from the rear.

  "Howly Moses! 'tis th' 'ranger's ghost," cried the Irish boy, as abull's-eye flashed in his face, dazzling his eyes and confusing hismind. Terror-possessed by this ghostly manifestation--for he saw naughtbut a bright light, preceded by an awful voice--the boy bolted. Herushed towards the chamber exit, which he barely reached ere the sharpcrack of a revolver sounded, what time the panic-stricken youthstaggered forward, falling with a dull thud upon the stone floor.

  It need hardly be said that the other members of the group were startledout of speech and action. Not ten seconds elapsed between the cry ofthe man or ghost and the tragedy of the revolver shot and the fallenboy.

  The moment the boy fell the others ran towards him, but before they hadtaken three steps the light flashed on them and a revolver covered them.Behind the lantern came a voice that more than the lantern, or evenpistol, cowed them: "_Stop! Hands up!_"

  * Behind the lantern came a voice that more than the lantern, or even pistol, cowed them: "*_*Stop! Hands up!*_*" (missing from book)]*

  For the second time the hands of the boys went up at command. One thingwas made quite clear, at any rate: this was no ghostly visitant. Ghostsdidn't carry revolvers, nor was there long any mystery about thispersonage.

  "That young cove reckoned I was dead and dry as your smoked schnapper,did he? The young fool'll smoke and dry fast enough in the place I'vesent him to. You infernal asses to come here! But you'll never live totell any one; make up your minds to that."

  It was in truth the bushranger himself. Of that there could be nodoubt. The news of his death was either a make-up or a grossexaggeration. Here he stood, in the flesh, in one of his most dangerousmoods. A black fit was on him. Under its influence he was capable ofalmost any atrocity. The lads were horror-stricken. There, before them,lay the body of their comrade, the gay, witty, affectionate Denny, whobut a few moments ago was in the seventh heaven of delight at thethought of bringing out his parents with the proceeds of his share ofthe gold; and now--it was too awful!

  "Look 'ere, Ben Bolt!" exclaimed Harry, after a few seconds' silence,"you've shot an innercent boy in cold blood. You've grossly belied yourreputation that you never laid a hand on woman or child. We came herewith no thought of spyin' upon yer, for we believed yer to be dead. Infive minits we wud 'ave gone away with our fish, none the wiser for yourpresence. You've not the slightest justerfication fer takin' that life,an' if yer shoots me the next minit fer it, I tell yer to yer face ye'rea blaggard an' coward, an' the pity is that the news of yer bein' shotwasn't true."

  Why Harry was not shot off-hand, it were hard to say. The bushranger wasconvulsed with rage: thrice he levelled his revolver at the brave man,and as often lowered it. At last, with a voice hoarse with passion, hesaid, "I'll send you along the road I've driven your mate, curse you!You think you're very game, but I'll take all that out of you beforeI've done with you. You'll be longing for your end hours before itcomes....

  "Here, boy," continued he, pointing to Tom. "Take that green-hide andtie your mates as I tell you. Look sharp, or I'll lay you alongsideyour mate yonder."

  Thus dragooned, Tom securely tied his mates' hands behind their backs.As soon as this was accomplished, the outlaw, sticking his revolver inhis belt, served Tom in the same way, and in addition trussed eachvictim. Having set them in a row like a group, of mummies, he addressedthem--

  "You'll lie here for the present. I'll deal with you later. I've got alittle job to do first. That fool Hennessey's coming out this way witha couple of troopers to trap me. 'Twasn't enough that he winged mymate, he's sworn to have me inside of the week. And I swear that I'llhave him inside of six hours. I'm going out now to have a look round.If you coves try any of your tricks, I'll make hell for you. I shan'tbe far off, you may bet."

  So saying, the outlaw went out into the chamber where his horse wasstabled, and led him along the passage to the cave entrance.

  "I say, Harry, it was Ben Bolt that we saw at ole Jago's this mornin'."

  "True. I cud 'ave taken me oath a'most that the 'orse wus Samson, but Ididn't git a fair view of the bloke's face. Yes, 'twor Ben that we saw.He must 'a' got 'is information erbout Hennessey from the ole man. It'swunnerful 'ow they does git the news. I 'ope 'e don't git er charnseter draw er bead on Hennessey. He'll 'ave ter be mighty smart ter doit. But, dear! dear! on'y ter think of poor Denny lyin' overthere--dead! I wish ter 'evven 'e'd 'a' shot me instead. Wot'll yourfather an' mother say, Sandy? Poor Norah, too! It'll be the killin' of'er."

  "Whisht, boys, spaake low: Oi'm not kilt ontoirely; only knockedspaachless. Oi'm betther nor tin dead Chinymen yit."

  It was the sweetest sound that ever ravished the ears of the boys. Herewas the blissful fact--Denny was not dead; was very much alive. If thelads did not immediately cry out with joy it was because their joy wastoo deep for utterance.

  "Don't spaake or sthir awhoile till Oi see if th' coast's clear."

  Rising quietly to his feet, the Irish boy stole along the corridor thatled to the mouth of the cave. After a hasty but keen survey of theimmediate neighbourhood, he returned to his companions, knife in hand,and in a few minutes had freed them.

  "And are you not wounded, Denny? We never dreamed but that the villainhad shot you dead. You lay just like a corpse. He was under thatimpression too, or he'd never have left you."

  "Yez see 'twas this way: Oi was fair flabbergasted whin th' blazin'light dazzled me oiyes. Oi made shure 'twas th' 'ranger's ghost. Oiwud 'a' stood, but me ligs wuddn't. They sthreaked off loike apaddy-melon goes for a hole in th' fince--carryin' me body wid thim.Th' firsht thing Oi felt was a rock sthrikin' me fut, an' thin, begorra,somethin' whistled past me ear as Oi tumbled forrard, hittin' th' flurea nasty crack wid me head. Th' nixt thing Oi heard was owld Harrytongue-bangin' th' rapscallion ov a murtherer fur killin' me. 'Bejabers!' ses Oi to meself, 'he's kilt me ontoirely wid a shot from hespisthol, if phwat me bowld frind ses be th' thruth. Go it, me bravebhoy! Tare an' ouns, but ye're givin' him th' coward's blow in foinestyle!'

  "Thin Oi sees him rope yez up loike dhrapery parr-sels, an', ses Oi,'Jist wait till yez is gone, me hairr-y breasted sna-ake!' an' wid thatOi comes to me ray-son an' knows that Oi was not dead at all, at all.Oi was jist goin' to git up an' give him a bit iv me tongue, whin thethought comes--'Lie still, ye gossoon, till he goes an' ye can liberaateyer mates!' So now we'll be even wid th' omadhaun."

  "The quicker we're outer this the better!" exclaimed Harry, as soon ashe was released. "There's no knowin' when the 'ranger'll return; if 'efinds us loose, 'e'll shoot us to a cert. What a pity we left our gunswith the 'orses! 'Ope 'e won't find 'em. It'll be risky goin' out, aswe don't know where the feller is. 'E may be close by watchin' the'ole. The bes' thing'll be for us ter make a dash ter the scrub as soonas we're outer the cave."

  "There's a much safer way than that," said Sandy. "We'll go out the waywe came in when we first discovered this place. Lucky we brought acandle with us. Come along; every moment is precious."

  So saying, Sandy strode in advance, the others following closely at hisheels. The party soon hit upon the passage leading to the cave openingon the other side of the ridge. In twenty minutes or so they were inthe open.

  Their first act was to plunge into the thick bush. This shielded themfrom ordinary observation. After a short confab, they concluded thatthe wisest thing to do was to creep along in the thickest part, in thedirection of the horses. They had hardly started when the sharp crackof a rifle broke upon their ears. Stopping short, they listenedeagerly; with beating hearts, it must be confessed. Again and again,shots were fired; at last they heard the pounding of hoofs, rapidlynearing them.

  "'Ssh--don't move--they're on the hard r
oad," said Harry to thenervously excited youths.

  The road passed the caves about two hundred yards from where the partylay. Presently, with increasing clatter, Ben Bolt rode furiously along,and after a minute's interval, Sergeant Hennessey, accompanied by twotroopers, the Sergeant leading by about fifty yards. Just as he was inthe act of passing, the officer took a snap-shot at the 'ranger. In afew minutes all sight and even sound of pursued and pursuers had gone.

  "No fear of Ben Bolt trubblin' us now fer a spell. 'Ope Hennessey 'llnab 'im sure this time. Let's moosey erlong, lads."

  It didn't take the party long to pick up the steeds and load up thepackhorses with the fish. The sun had barely set ere they were well onthe last stage of the return journey.

  The M'Intyres are just concluding the evening meal. The conversationchiefly centres around the campers. Mrs. M'Intyre had given many a lookalong the track during the afternoon, in the hope of sighting the lads.The understanding when they left was that they were to return at the endof the second week. It was now Saturday evening.

  "I won't give them up till ten o'clock. I expect they have made a latestart. Yes, Maggie, I own that I am a bit fidgety now that I've heardthat Ben Bolt has been seen in the vicinity of the caves."

  "Weel, ye can juist ease yure mind on that pint, my dear, for theSairgeant and a pairty o' troopers are patrolling in that direection, sothat there's no' the sma'est pairtical o' reesk."

  "It was lucky for them, mummie, that they had started for their tripbefore the revised version of the engagement between the police and thebushrangers was published, for had you known of the mistake you wouldnever have let the boys go. What are they going to do with the youththat Hennessey wounded? They say Ben Bolt's mad over it, and swears tohave Hennessey's life."

  "The misguided lad wull be pit on his trial as sune as the wound on histhigh permeets."

  "Do you think they'll hang him, father?"

  "Nae, nae, they'll no' hang the chiel; he has never ta'en life, nor ishe a hardened ruffian. He stairted this wild life 'for the fun o' it,'like mony another silly laddie. The Sairgeant tells me that Jock Smith,for that's his name, is gled to be captured. His eyes hae been openedto the folly and sin that are compreehended in sic a life. Insteed o'fun, he has encountered nought but hairdship and meesery. The misguidedladdie wull hae plenty o' time for repentance."

  The evening calm is suddenly and noisily disturbed. The station dogs setup a great babble of barking, and Jessie, who had gone out to the frontverandah, comes running in helter skelter and screaming--

  "Father, mother, hear the dogs! It's the boys, I bet tuppence. Hurrah!Hurrah!----"

  "Jessie, Jessie! you are certainly developing very----"

  Mrs. Mac is prosing without an audience, for the girls are flying alongthe track to the slip-rails, accompanied by the barking dogs.

  It was verging on midnight when the Bullaroi household broke up. Theadventures were told with a degree of modesty to an intensely interestedand at times breathless company. The spoils of the sea and the spoilsof the mine were displayed to the admiration of all. Mrs. M'Intyre gavehigh praise to the pals for their success as fish-curers; while the goldspoke for itself, needing no expert opinion.

  Mr. M'Intyre had the last word.

  "Ye've advanced a big step towards yure manhood, laddies, and I'm proodo' ye the nicht. Yure conduc' under they perils by sea and land is moreprecious by far that yon gleeterin' gowd. A guid name is raither to bechosen than great riches. Thank the Lord for a' His mercies!Guid-nicht, bairns."

  "GOOD-NIGHT ALL."

  _Printed by_ MORRISON & GIBB LIMITED, _Edinburgh_