CHAPTER FOUR.
The Gilpins found that the superintendence of a large station did notafford a bed of roses. All day long they were in the saddle,overlooking twenty stockmen and shepherds, examining the herds andflocks, and often themselves doctoring any which were found diseased orinjured. This they were obliged to do, in consequence of the ignoranceor carelessness of the people in charge of them. These, with fewexceptions, had been convicts. Of those who had been convicts, somewere still working out their sentences with tickets-of-leave, whileothers, who were free to go where they liked, were too old and destituteof energy to venture on a change of occupation, and remained as before,hut-keepers or shepherds. At each inferior station there was a hut witha hut-keeper, whose duty was to look after the hut, to cook theprovisions, and to tend the sheep or cattle brought for any specialpurpose into the fold or pen. The office was usually held by some oldconvict or other person unfit for hard labour. Though occasionallythere is enough to do, it is considered an idle, lazy life.
The brothers often rode together to the stations, to assist each other;but they had lately, for the sake of covering more ground in the courseof the day, taken separate districts, that the stockmen might be keptconstantly on the alert, not knowing any moment when the active youngmanagers might pay them a visit. Notwithstanding this, cattle and sheepcontinued to disappear as before, and they came to the resolution ofmaking every man responsible who lost an animal, and stopping his wagestill it was replaced. One day, after a hard morning's work, ArthurGilpin found himself approaching the rear of a hut, on an out station,at the extreme end of the territory over which the cattle ranged--thewhole being considerably larger than many a German principality. Theground was soft, and his horse's hoofs making no noise, it was not tillhe got in front of the hut that the dog, ever found as its guardian(either well-bred deer-hound or cur of low degree), came bounding uptowards him, barking loudly. In this case the animal was a remarkablyhandsome deer-hound, of a size and strength sufficient to drag him fromhis horse. The hut-keeper was seated in a rough sort of easy-chair, andwas apparently fast asleep.
"Hillo, my man, call off your dog, or he and I may do each other aninjury," shouted Arthur; "he is a noble brute, and I should not like tohurt him, if I could help it!"
The man started up, a book dropping from his hand. "Come back, goodBrian; come back, sir!" he cried out. "I must apologise, Mr Gilpin,for not hearing you; but I was overcome, I believe, by the heat," headded, as he took the horse from which Arthur had just dismounted.
As the stock-keeper unsaddled the animal, Arthur's eye fell on the openpage of the book from which he had been reading. It was a superioredition of Horace, well used.
Roughly clad and unshorn and haggard in his looks as the man was, Arthurcould not but conclude that he had once moved among the educated classesof society. The ever-ready damper and pot of tea were produced; andArthur, having satisfied his appetite, made the usual inquiries aboutthe station. Everything seemed to be satisfactory.
"You appear to be fond of reading," said Arthur, glancing at the Horace,which had been placed on a shelf among a few other books.
"Ah! a friend of my early days. He serves to beguile many a wearyhour," answered the hut-keeper, with a sigh.
Arthur did not like to ask questions. "We brought a few books with usinto the bush; I shall be glad to lend them to you," he said.
"They will be most acceptable, sir," said the hut-keeper, hiscountenance brightening; "my own stock is small, and I have read eachvolume over and over again till I know them by heart. I believe that ifa chest of new books were to reach me, like the half-starved wretch whosuddenly finds himself in the midst of plenty, I could sit down and readtill my eyesight or my wits had left me."
"I can enter into your feelings," said Arthur kindly. "The life youlead must indeed be dull."
"Ah! it might be far worse, though," answered the hut-keeper; "povertyout here can scarcely be said to pinch. I often ask myself what mightit have been, or what certainly would it have been, had I remained inLondon till my last shilling was gone. To rot in a poorhouse or tosweep a crossing would have been my lot, or there might have been aworse alternative. I had enough left to pay my passage out here. Itwas a wise move--the only wise thing I ever did in my life. Myexpectations on landing were foolish, and before I could realise them Ihad the chance of going to gaol or becoming a hut-keeper." The lastremarks were made as he stood holding the rein of Arthur's horse.
Arthur rode round the run, inspected the flock, and had to pass near thehut again on his return homeward. The hut-keeper, Charles Craven hecalled himself, was on the watch for him.
"I must have a word with you, Mr Gilpin," he said. "You are the firstman I have met since I landed on these shores who has sympathised withme. I would do something to serve you. First, I must warn you never tobe unarmed, either in your hut or out of it; and especially advise youand your brother, when you ride out, always to keep together. Many ofthe hands on the station are exasperated with you for your style ofproceeding, and they think that if they could get rid of you they wouldhave things their own way."
Thanking Craven for his advice, Arthur pushed on towards home as rapidlyas his grey would carry him. He was relieved on finding that James hadjust before arrived. He told his brother of the warning Craven hadgiven him.
James was at first inclined to laugh at it. "The scoundrels dare notinjure us!" he exclaimed. Then he remembered Basham's revengeful looks,and the surly manner of several of the hands, and finally agreed withhis brother that it would be wiser to go armed, and keep together.
They had removed the hut-keeper to another post, and placed Green incharge of their abode. This would have been necessary, if for no otherreason, for the purpose of having it kept clean and habitable, which thedirty habits of the former occupant rendered impracticable. The exactsituation of the hut has not been described. It stood on a hillside,the ground immediately round it cleared, but with bush both above it andon either side, extending to a considerable distance. In some placesthe trees were fine and lofty, in others only stringy-bark or lowbushes. A river passed in front at the distance of less than a quarterof a mile, full and flowing in winter, but after the heats of summerconsisting of a succession of water-holes connected by a trickling rill.During the shearing season the river was a scene of the greatestanimation, as all the flocks from far and near were driven up to it,that the sheep might be washed before being deprived of their fleeces.After a sudden downfall of rain, the quiet stream became a roaring,boiling torrent, sweeping onward with terrific force, now forming a widelake, and, once more confined by high and narrow banks, whirling alongwith rapid eddies; and at spots, where a few hours before a person couldpass on foot, the current would test the strength of the strongestswimmer or most powerful horse to cross; at other times it relapsed intoa state of silence, not without much picturesque beauty of a tranquilcharacter. The hut commanded a view of the river, but it, as well asthe sheds, sheep-folds, and stock-yards, were placed far too high aboveit to be reached by the widest inundation it could cause.
Arthur did not forget his promise to Craven, and, as soon as he wasable, he rode toward his hut with several books in his pockets. Thehut-keeper was very grateful, and expressed himself in a way whichshowed that he was really a gentleman and a man of feeling. Thebrothers, as they rode away, agreed that it would be but an act ofcommon kindness to ask him to visit them, and that they might sendanother man to take his place.
Craven considered a moment. "No; I had better not," he answered; "themen about here look upon me as one of themselves, and if I were seenwith you, I should no longer be trusted by them. They are mischievouslyinclined; and if I can turn them from their purposes, or give youwarning of their intentions, and help, if needs be, it will afford methe satisfaction of believing that I have been of some little use in theworld."
They could not but agree with him, and expressed a hope that anemployment more suited to a person of his educati
on might be found forhim.
Craven gave a sickly smile. "You are young, and think change is easy,"he said. "The sapling is quickly bent, but when an old tree has longgrown in the same direction, it cannot be straightened again. Supply mewith books and tobacco, and, a few years hence, perhaps, a pair ofspectacles, and I shall have no desire to quit these wilds."
"Perhaps you will change your mind," said James, putting out his hand,which the broken-down gentleman shook warmly.
Many years had passed since his palm had pressed that of an equal inintellect and education. It seemed to raise him out of the state ofhopeless apathy into which he had fallen.
The hut at headquarters had greatly improved in appearance since it hadbecome the residence of the Gilpins. There were three glazed windows,and it was partitioned off into a bedroom, a sitting-room--where booksand papers could be arranged on shelves and kept clean--and a kitchen,which served as dining-room and hall. A good-sized storeroom had beenbuilt at the back, with a door opening into the kitchen. They and SamGreen were the only inmates of the building.
It was late at night, the Bible had been read, and family prayers hadbeen offered up--when two or three were gathered together that customwas never departed from in that rude hut in the wilds of Australia--thanksgivings for past, petitions for future protection. Sam had thrownhimself on his bed in a corner of the hall, and his loud snoring toldthat he was fast asleep. The brothers had been reading in theirsitting-room, and were on the point of retiring to bed, when a slighttap was heard at the window. They thought it was some night birdattracted by the light, and took no notice. A louder tap was heard;Arthur opened the window.
"Wisht! mister, dear; just let me in, for I've something to say to ye,"said a voice, which he recognised to be Larry Killock's.
"I will let you in by the door, Larry, unless you like to jump throughthe window," said Arthur.
"The quickest way's the best," was the answer, as Larry leaped throughthe opening, adding, "shut the shutters, lest any one's eyes should belooking this way." Larry was out of breath, and looked faint and weary,as if he had come a long distance.
"What brings you here, Larry?" said Arthur, in a tone of anxiety, whichit was natural he should feel.
"It's bad news I've to tell yer honours; but if I'd had to lose my life,I'd have come to tell it," he answered. "No matter how I found it out,but I did find it out, that the people on the station, just because youhave put a stop to their robberies and rogueries, have determined to doaway with you. As villains is mostly cowards, there's none of themdares to bell the cat themselves, and so they've engaged some of themblack fellows--the thieves of the world--to do the job for them. It wasto be done quickly, and I came along, ignorant entirely if I'd be intime or not to save yer honours' lives; but they've not killed you yet,and we'll see if we can't be a match for them." The Irishman went on tosay that the plan proposed was to set fire to the surrounding bush, andthat while they ran out, as they naturally would, to stop the flamesfrom approaching their dwelling, by cutting down the surrounding grassand bushes, they were to be knocked down with boomerangs by the blacks,and their bodies dragged into the fire.
The brothers immediately decided what to do. Waking up Sam and tellinghim what they had heard, they bade Larry take care of the house and makea good supper; and, reaping-hooks and axes in hand, they sailed out toclear the ground of all fuel capable of bringing the flames up to thehut. Beginning at the back of the building, they worked awayenergetically, gradually extending their circle till they had cut downand raked away all fuel, almost up to the woods, when they heard Sam'svoice calling them--
"Come back, come back! the black fellows are close upon us! I wasn'tcomfortable in my mind, and went out to listen. I heard them calling toeach other, and their dogs barking."
Although they believed that the bullock-driver's anxiety or fears mightsomewhat exaggerate the danger, they felt that it was, at all events,prudent to retreat to their hut. All remained quiet: they werebeginning to hope that the alarm might be a false one. Arthur againwent out, and as, rifle in hand, he was pacing as sentry round the hut,he saw a bright light burst forth above the trees, half a mile or so offto the south-west. He watched it for some minutes; it increased,extending on either hand, the forked points of the flames appearing highabove the intervening trees. There could be no doubt that the wood wason fire. Thus far the information obtained by the bullock-driver wascorrect. There was too much reason, therefore, to fear that theirdestruction would be attempted by the savages. He hurried into the hutto consult what was best to be done. Their horses were at hand; theymight mount them and ride away from the danger; but such a proceedingwas not to be thought of. If, however, they were not secured, theywould be carried off by the blacks. Arthur and Sam accordingly went outand brought them up to the hut; there was just room for them to stand inthe kitchen by removing the table; the door was then closed and barred.None of the party, however, felt inclined to wait inactive till theconflagration reached their neighbourhood without knowing what progressit was making. There was no window at the back of the hut.
"We will make holes in the roof," said Arthur; "we shall be able to seethrough them what is going on, and if we are besieged in our fortress bythe savages, we shall be the better able to defend ourselves and annoythem."
A stool, placed on the top of the table, enabled them to reach the roof,and by stringing some boards to the rafters, they found convenientstanding places. The square holes cut in the shingles forming the roofgave them a look-out. There was enough in the spectacle they beheld totry the courage of the stoutest hearted. In front of them, that is tosay, at the back of the hut, was a narrow neck of forest, which was asyet intact, but above the branches--between the stems which stood out inbold relief--the flames were seen raging furiously, devouring, as theyadvanced, everything in their course, both to the right and to the left.Strange sounds, too, were heard: there was the roaring, hissing, andcrackling of the fire, and ever and anon a report like that of heavyguns, as some tall tree was riven in two by the intense heat whichsurrounded it; the air also came like a blast from a furnace, laden withsmoke, ashes, and often sparks, which threatened to ignite the dry roofof the building. The danger was increasing, for the flames wereadvancing towards the confines of the wood nearest them. Now the fire,snake-like, would be seen creeping along the grass, then catching holdof some bush, which would speedily be wrapped in its deadly embrace;next the lower boughs of the trees would catch, or the dry wood andtwigs round the stumps, and upward it would mount triumphant, roaringand crackling--the slighter trees falling prostrate before it; the olderand thicker still withstanding its fierce assault, though leftbranchless and blackened, with all vitality destroyed.
As yet the hut remained uninjured, though a semicircle of fire ragedfuriously close to it, and here and there, where a bush still stood, orsome tufts of grass had not been closely cropped, the flames madeadvances, and, winding along the ground, rose up, flickered, and died.From the first outbreak of the conflagration various animals had beenseen crossing the open ground, as they escaped from the burning forest.Birds innumerable, of varied plumage, aroused from their roostingplaces, flew by, some uttering discordant screams of terror, many, withscorched wings, falling dead before they reached the hut. As yet nohuman beings had been seen.
"I trust that the savages will not venture to attack us," said James;"only in the last extremity could I feel justified in firing at them."
"Arrah! it's but little of that sort of treatment they have receivedsince the white man first put his foot on their shores," observed Larry."I've heard tell of their being shot down by scores at a time, likevermin. Many and many's the black fellow I've seen killed, and nonotice taken of it, and no thought by the man who did the deed, any morethan if he had fired at a wild beast."
Arthur interrupted Larry's remarks by exclaiming, "There they are,though, and in no small numbers too, just coming round the edge of theburning wood to the south-east!"
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bsp; The rest of the party looked in the direction indicated, and there, seenclearly by the light of the flames thrown on their dark bodies, armedwith spears, clubs, and boomerangs, was a numerous body of savages.They appeared to be looking cautiously about, as if expecting to findtheir intended victims engaged in extinguishing the flames round thehut.
"The black chaps are no cowards, Mr Gilpin. We shall have a fiercefight of it, and our three firearms won't do much against all them, I'mthinking," observed Larry.
"There are still more of them coming!" exclaimed Arthur; "and see!there's a fellow has just joined them who looks like a chief. They arepointing this way. We may look out to be attacked in a few minutes. Wemay fire surely, James, if they come on? A few shots will probably sendthem scampering off. They have no firearms among them."
"Not so sure of that, yer honour," said Larry. "Look, the fellow youcalled the chief has a gun of some sort, and he is showing it to therest to encourage them. He handles it like a man who knows the use ofit, too."
In spite of the overwhelming numbers of the enemy, the little garrisonresolved to maintain their position. Little could be gained by flight,and all their property would inevitably be destroyed should they desertthe hut. The risk they ran in either case was very great. They mightpick off some of the savages, but there were so many that they mighteasily surround the hut and burn it to the ground.
"If we had two or three more fellows with us, we might bid defiance tothe whole mob," said Arthur.
"To my mind, if we was to shoot down that chap with the gun in his hand,the rest would show us their heels," observed Sam Green, who had notbefore spoken since the appearance of the savages; "they none on 'emshows much stomach for the fight."
Sam's remark was correct. The savages were evidently aware that thedefenders of the hut possessed firearms, and even the chief showed noinclination to expose himself. From their movements, however, itappeared that they were about to make a rush towards the hut. At thatinstant the tramp of horses' hoofs was heard approaching, and a voicecried out--
"Open the door! Be quick! Let us in!"
James and his brother, who had been watching the savages from the roof,jumped down at the moment that a rifle-ball whistled by.
"That bullet was never fired by a black chap," said Larry to Sam, asthey also descended from their perches to receive the new-comers. TheGilpins, without hesitation, opened the door, and Craven with a strangerappeared, just dismounting from their horses, whose foam-covered bitsand reeking backs showed that they had ridden at no slow rate.
"No time for words. If you have room for our poor brutes, take them in;if not, they must run their chance outside," he said. "Here, we havebrought arms and ammunition. We knew that you would be hard pressed,and have come to share your fate."
"Come in, come in," said James, leading in the horses, who, tremblingwith fatigue, were quiet enough.
The new-comers had brought a rifle, a musket, and two fowling-pieces,with powder-flasks and bullets. This reinforcement raised theconfidence of the little party in the hut. The blacks, discoveringCraven and his companion, made a rush to intercept them. They sprang inafter the horses; but before the door was closed, a shower of darts andboomerangs rattled against it, and again a shot was heard, and a bulletflew by among them. Those inside hurriedly closed the door; but, almostbefore the bar could be replaced, the blacks were thundering with theirclubs against it. James had been strongly averse to shed blood, eventhe blood of savages endeavouring to destroy him and his companions, yetthere was no longer any other alternative; the blacks must be drivenoff, or they would burn down the hut. It became James's duty to takethe command, and to give the word. Loop-holes were speedily cut in thewalls.
"Be ready, friends; pick off the leaders, each of us those moreimmediately in front as we stand. Do not throw a shot away. Fire!"
Three of the blacks were seen to fall to the ground, the rest ran backin disorder, two of them wounded. This gave the defenders of the huttime to reload and to make some fresh loop-holes. The blacks were againmet by the chief, who was seen urging them to return, though he showedno inclination to place himself in danger. Craven, seeing the look-outplaces in the roof, proposed getting up there.
"I think that I might bring down that fellow if I could get a steadyshot at him," he said, taking up his rifle. "The fellow hasdisappeared!" he exclaimed. "I cannot make it out, yet the rest obeyhim, for they are coming on again, and with fire-brands, too. We mustbeat them, or they will roast us."
The spectacle was indeed appalling. There were from fifty to sixtyblacks, each with a burning brand in his left hand and a spear or clubin the other, all leaping and shrieking in concert, as they sprang ontowards the hut. The defenders waited till they got within thirtypaces, and then all together fired. The result was the same as before.Several fell, others ran howling back wounded, the rest, throwing downtheir brands, followed. Another volley was sent after them, in the hopethat it might induce them to abandon the attack. Craven reloaded, andsat watching at his post. The crack of his rifle was again heard.
"I have hit the scoundrel!" he exclaimed. "He is no black man; he isordering them to lift him up; they are carrying him off. I have not theheart to send another bullet through him, but he deserves it."
"We may capture him, though," cried Arthur. "Let us jump on our horses;we shall soon overtake them."
The proposal was instantly adopted; no one was more eager and full ofanimation than Craven. The horses were led out, and, Larry remainingwith the spare firearms in the hut, the party urged on the animals inthe direction the blacks had gone. The flames of the burning forestlighted up the country, and enabled them to ride at full speed, thoughit was with difficulty they could make the horses keep near the fire,edging along which the blacks had gone, hoping probably, if they couldget round the furthest end, to place it between themselves and thosethey had so ruthlessly attacked. Mounting to the top of a ridge, thehorsemen caught sight of a party of natives on a hill before them, witha valley intervening. The blacks got to the top, on some open ground,when it was seen that they were carrying a burden among them. The whitemen dashed down into the valley, and, making their way across it, urgedtheir horses up the opposite height. The blacks saw them coming; invain the man they were carrying ordered them to remain by him. Oaths,entreaties, promises were of no avail. Putting him down, they ran offas fast as their legs would carry them.
The last exclamations he uttered showed his pursuers that he was nonative. They were in English, and too horrible to be repeated. TheGilpins reached him. He glared fiercely at them as they dismounted, andseemed to be feeling for a pistol in his belt. They grasped his handsto prevent his using it. The oath he uttered betrayed him. Though hisface and arms and the upper part of his body was blackened, they at oncerecognised him as Basham, the late overseer. The wretched blacks hadalready suffered so severely that the settlers had no desire to overtakethem. Dismounting, therefore, one of the party led the horses, and therest, lifting up the wounded man, bore him back towards the hut. Theyfrequently looked behind to ascertain if the blacks were following forthe purpose of recovering him, but no attempt of the sort was made. Itwas hard work carrying him, for he was a heavy man. Some deep groanswhich burst from him showed that he was suffering much pain. From afeeling of mercy they stopped, and found that the bullet had entered hisleg, and had probably grazed, if it had not broken, the bone. Cravenhad a knowledge of surgery, especially valuable to a bushman; and whileall were stooping down round the injured man, he probed the wound, andextracted some of the black cloth which had been carried into it. HadBasham been a friend who had been fighting for them, he could not havebeen treated more tenderly. He, however, scarcely spoke, and displayedno sign of gratitude. At length they reached the hut in safety. Thehorses were tethered outside, ready for instant service. The woundedman was placed on Sam's bed, and such restoratives as the brotherspossessed administered to him. These arrangements concluded, the whole
party thankfully sat down to a meal, which was rather breakfast thansupper. The Gilpins now learned from Craven that he had heard a rumourof the proposed attack of the savages, instigated by the stockmen,though he did not understand that Basham was the prime mover; that therewas only one man whom he could trust, and that, having invited him, theyhad both set forward to their assistance. His companion was evidently,like himself, a man of superior education and fallen fortunes. InCraven the necessity for unusual exertion had worked a marked change,and he no longer appeared the spirit-broken man he had seemed whenArthur first met him.
The fire continued raging, but made no further progress, and, in spiteof its dangerous neighbourhood, all the party except James, who insistedon remaining on watch, were fast asleep. The hours of darkness passedby slowly and anxiously. He kept his ears ever ready to catch any soundoutside, and he occasionally looked forth, thinking it possible that theblacks might return, or that some of the white companions of theirprisoner might come to look for him. The nearest police-station wasabout thirty miles off. It was necessary to convey their prisonerthere; but then it was very possible that they might be attacked on theroad, and that he might be rescued. Knowing the bad feeling of thepeople around them, it would be imprudent to weaken the strength oftheir party at the hut. James therefore resolved, if Larry wassufficiently rested, to send him off, as soon as it was daylight, for asufficient force to escort the late overseer to prison. Scarcely had heformed this plan when Larry jumped up, and exclaimed--
"Now, yer honour, you have had watching enough, and I'll just take myspell. I'm as fresh as a daisy with the dew on the grass."
James declined doing this, and told him of his proposed plan.
"Nothing like taking time by the forelock!" exclaimed the Irishman."I've my raisons, and I'll be off--as soon as I can stow some food in myinside and catch the horse--before it is daylight, so that it will be ahard job for any of them fellows to find me, even if they have a fancyfor that same."
As there was no time to be lost, James went out and brought in Larry'shorse, to which he gave a sop of damper and spirits and water, whileLarry was refreshing himself.
"It's good luck I'll have on a good errand, I hope," he exclaimed, as heleaped into the saddle; "for though the police and I weren't overfriendly once on a time, I can now face them like an honest man, thanksto yer honour."
Larry was soon lost to sight in the gloom which prevailed at a distancefrom the yet burning wood. Daylight came. All hands were on foot. Thewounded man appeared to be no worse. A sad change had taken place inthe once picturesque appearance of the surrounding scenery. In theplace of the green wood, with many noble trees, a few blackened stems,gaunt and branchless, with still smouldering ashes at their base, werethe only objects to be seen on the hillside. The Gilpins scarcely likedto keep Craven and his companion from their posts, though at the sametime they felt the importance of having a sufficient guard over theirprisoner. They were surprised that none of the stockmen or hut-keepersfrom the neighbourhood had made their appearance. It proved but tooplainly that all were disaffected; and it made them resolve not to quitthe vicinity of the hut till the arrival of the police. They could not,however, come for some hours. Breakfast was just over, when Green, whohad gone down to fetch some water from the river, came hurrying back,and reported that he had seen several men collecting, with arms in theirhands, on the opposite side. "Who could they be? What could be theirobject?" was the question.
It was decided that while every precaution should be taken to preventsurprise, they should be treated as if they could only have come on afriendly errand, and that every attempt should be made to conciliatethem before resorting to force. Scarcely five minutes had passed beforeseveral men were seen approaching, from the direction of the river, insingle file. They were all disguised, either with blackened faces ormasks, while they wore either kangaroo or sheep skins over theirshoulders, or were covered with the thick-leaved branches of shrubs, soas completely to conceal their figures. It was evident that theyintended mischief. They halted at about twenty paces from the hut,seemingly surprised at finding the windows barricaded and the doorclosed, with the muzzles of firearms protruding from the walls. Seeingtheir hesitation, James instantly went out, and, with his rifle in hishand, confronted them--
"Men, you have amused yourselves seemingly with what might be a harmlessmummery, were it not for the weapons in your hands," he began, in a firmtone; "put them down, and let me hear what you have got to say."
The leading man, after consulting with his companions, replied, "Youhave got shut up there a friend of ours, and you must give him up to us,or take the consequences."
"I am not at all likely to yield to demands made by strangers in thetone you make them, or to tell you whether or not we have any one shutup inside this hut," said James; "you will risk your own lives, and gainnothing by persisting in such folly."
"Yours is the folly, master, in refusing our demands!" exclaimed theman. "You can gain no good by keeping the man a prisoner, but will dohim and us harm!"
While the man was speaking, he and his companions advanced still closerto the hut.
"Stand back!" cried James, endeavouring to bring his piece to hisshoulder; but before he had done so, the men, stooping low, sprangforward, keeping him between themselves and the hut. Those insideopened the door to admit him, but instead of retreating he stood fast,till the leader of the ruffians had struck up his rifle, and, graspinghim by the throat, bore him backwards. Arthur, rushing out to hisrescue, was seized likewise, and the whole party dashed together intothe hut, overthrowing Green, who came out to help his young masters.Fortunately their eyes first fell on the wounded man as he lay on a bedin the outer room. The stretcher of boughs, on which he had beenbrought to the hut, still remained outside. A few words passed betweenthem. They lifted him on the litter, neither the Gilpins nor Greenbeing able to prevent them, and, with a shout of triumph, they carriedhim off towards the river. The Gilpins and Green were quickly on theirfeet. For an instant they stood irresolute whether to follow.
"Do not attempt it," cried a voice from within; "the villains will notscruple to fire if you do."
It was Craven who spoke. James was inclined to accuse him of cowardicetill he reflected at what risk he had come voluntarily to theirassistance. Craven himself, too, explained that being assured theoutlaws would murder him and his companion had they seen them, they hadretreated into the storeroom, where they lay hid among casks and cases.It was provoking to have lost their prisoner, but at the same time theyhad reason to be thankful that no life had been sacrificed.
"If they find out from Basham that we are here, they will to a certaintyreturn," observed Craven; "and we must be prepared."
"The police will be here by that time," was Arthur's remark. "If theycome, we may follow, and we should have our horses ready."
"None of them said a word about the police," observed James; "I don'tthink that they were aware that we expected them."
"Then, depend on it, when they find out that Richards and I are awayfrom our posts, they will return to punish us. Basham will not sayanything, however, till he thinks that they have placed him in safety,and then, of course, he will tell them of our being here."
In consequence of Craven's very just apprehensions, the party set towork to fortify the hut more completely, by putting stronger bars to thewindows and doors, and by placing a stockade outside at the weakerparts, so as to make it more difficult for any assailants to reach theroof.
These preparations were scarcely completed, when Green, who happened tobe on the roof, cried out--
"There come the chaps again, and twice as many as before!"
This was serious news; for it was not likely that the ruffian band wouldhave returned, unless with the intention of destroying those who hadoffended them. It is very probable that they hoped to make it appearthat the blacks, having set the wood on fire, had afterwards killedthem. The whole party in the hut felt, therefore, that the
y must fightto the last extremity. A line was drawn round the building, and it wasagreed that if an enemy passed it they would fire; but they wouldrefrain as long as possible from shedding blood. They had scarcely timeto barricade the door and windows before the outlaws appeared, mountingthe hill from the river, not as before, in single file, but scatteredover the ground, so as to take advantage of the shelter any inequalitiesmight afford. Some were disguised, but there were several blacks whowere in their usual unclothed state, and were evidently notmasqueraders. It might have been difficult to identify even those, astheir faces and bodies were bedaubed with pigments in strange andhideous devices.
This time James took care not to show himself. "Stand back, men!" heshouted in a loud voice. "If any one advances across the line we havemarked out, we must fire. We do not wish to shed blood, but theconsequence be on your own heads. Back, black men! you get killed."
The outlaws hesitated, and even the natives seemed to understand whatwas said. Whereabouts the magic line was drawn, at which some of themwould be certain to lose their lives, they could not tell. Soldiers inbattle will dare any danger, but villains engaged in a criminal act arealways cowards, unless driven to desperation. Such was not the case atpresent. A white handkerchief was shown on a stick, and a voice criedout--
"We don't want to hurt you, Mr Gilpin, or your brother, or man, butthere are two fellows there, and we must have them; give them up to us,and we will go away."
"I ask you, would you give up people who had put confidence in you?"said James.
"We have nothing to say to that; give up the men, or we will burn downthe hut and you in it," was the answer.
"Remember the warning I have given you," said James; "however, we willjust talk the matter over, and let you know what we decide."
"Be sharp about it, then," said the first speaker; "we did not come hereto shilly-shally, and we shall advance directly the time is up. We giveyou five minutes to settle the matter."
"We must take ten; and recollect that our rifles will be kept ready foruse," added James, firmly.
"I am afraid the fellows will put their threat into execution," saidCraven. "Now, you see, our lives are of no use to any one, and so, whenthe ten minutes are up, tell them that we will go with them, if theywill take their departure quietly, and not injure you."
"On no account would we do so!" exclaimed the brothers in the samebreath. "I would not trust them, even if we should be base enough togive you up."
"Noa, sur; I'd sooner cut out my tongue than give ye up to them arrantknaves!" exclaimed Green, doubling his fist, and shaking it in thedirection he supposed that the outlaws were collected.
The minutes passed slowly by. They were doubtful whether the outlawswould begin the attack at the end of the five minutes, or wait till thetermination of the ten. The dread of the fatal line, however, seemed tokeep them back. The muzzles of the firearms were kept protruding fromthe walls, and, as there were several pistols as well as rifles, theymade a good display of force, rather damping the courage of those whocame expecting, probably, an easy victory.
The ten minutes came to an end, and fully another five had passed by,and the outlaws did not advance. It was very clear, therefore, thatthey had not intercepted Larry, nor were aware that he had gone for thepolice. How long it might be before they could arrive it was impossibleto say; perhaps when Larry reached their quarters the larger number hadbeen sent in an opposite direction, and considerable time might be lost.However, the importance of gaining as much time as possible was verygreat; for though the little garrison did not despair of beating off theenemy, they earnestly desired to avoid the bloodshed which must ensue iffighting once began.
James therefore waited with a sad and beating heart to give the fatalorder, should the outlaws overstep the prescribed boundary.
"Well, what are you going to do?" shouted one of the men; "are you goingto give up those fellows?"
"Who is it you are looking for?" asked James, glad of any means to spinout the time.
"Gentleman Jim and Sulking Sam," was the answer. "Come, turn them out;you've got them."
"I know no men by those names," said James.
"The rogues are right enough, though. I have the honour of beingdesignated as `Gentleman Jim,'" said Craven, with a smile.
"I say, what are the right names of the chaps?" asked one of the outlawsof a comrade.
"I never knowed 'em by any other," was the answer.
"Come, come, master, you hand them out, and be done with it!" criedseveral of the men together.
"Supposing they were with us, and that we were to deliver them into yourhands, what would you do with them?" asked James.
"Hang them up on the nearest tree, as we will you also, if you don'tcome to terms pretty quickly!" shouted the first ruffian who had spoken.
"I won't help you to be guilty of so great a crime," said James; "thinkbetter of it, and go away."
"No more of this; time's up!" cried a loud voice. "Charge, lads!"
The whole body sprang forward towards the hut. The whites instantlybegan firing their muskets or fowling-pieces, the blacks at the samemoment casting their spears.
"Hurra! Here come the police! Look out for yourselves!" cried SamGreen, who had been keeping watch at a hole near the roof, lookingeastward.
The words, uttered before any one had time to reload, had a magiceffect. One of the outlaws, springing on one side to ascertain whetherthe announcement was true, shouted out the fact to his comrades. Downthe hill they rushed, as fast as their legs could carry them. Theirbullets had either passed over the hut or had lodged in the thickplanking which formed the sides, without injuring any of those within.The sound of the shots, however, made the police put spurs to theirhorses' sides, and they came galloping up as the last of the outlawsdisappeared across the river. Their steeds were pretty well knocked upwith their long and rapid journey, but Lieutenant Graham, the officer incommand, was most anxious to catch some of the men. "We will join you!"cried Craven, running out. Their horses were found in a grassy nook tothe left. Craven, with his friend Richards, and Arthur Gilpin, and tenof the police, led by their officer, joined in the pursuit. Before longthey came in sight of the outlaws, scattered far and wide over thecountry, each man endeavouring to make his escape by himself. Most ofthem had thrown away the boughs and the skins with which they had beencovered. Three men kept closer together than did the rest. Craven, whothought he recognised them by their figures as stockmen belonging to thestation, recommended that they should be followed. The men soondiscovered that they especially were pursued. When they saw that allchance of escape was gone, they turned round and stood at bay; but asthe troopers advanced with drawn sabres, they threw down their arms andcried out for quarter. Their lives were of course spared, but theirhands being lashed behind them, they were conducted back to the hut.Another man was caught, but the rest were allowed to escape. "We canalways get any we require," observed one of the police. The prisonerswere the men Craven supposed. He himself was the chief cause of theirbeing taken. Except that his dress was rough, as usual, his wholemanner was changed as he galloped across the field. Graham looked athim more than once with astonishment.
They were all once more collected in the hut, doing justice to the fareSam and Larry had provided.
"I am nearly certain that I know you!" said the police officer,addressing Craven. "My name is Graham, and yours is--"
"All right, old fellow!" cried Craven, jumping up and grasping his hand;"it is pleasant, indeed, to meet a near relation out here. I neverheard of your coming."
"Nor did I know of your being here. However, we will not lose sight ofeach other again," said the lieutenant.
As scarcely any of the stockmen or hut-keepers could be trusted, theGilpins begged that some of the police might remain, while they wentround to drive in and concentrate the herds of cattle and the flocks ofsheep, now probably without keepers, and subject to the depredations ofthe outlaws. It was very hard wo
rk; but, with the help of Craven, a fewof the better-disposed men, who were found at their huts (havingprobably returned there after the ill-success of their expedition), wereselected, and the task was accomplished. Fresh hands were sent for.Craven was appointed overseer, with his friend under him. Graham setoff with his prisoners for headquarters, Norfolk Island being, withoutdoubt, their ultimate destination. No tidings could be gained ofBasham. He was probably hid away in the mountains, but it was notlikely that he would make any further attempts on the station. Thedisorderly servants were dismissed, fresh ones arrived, and for sometime the affairs entrusted to the young settlers went on quietly andprosperously.
The Gilpins and their Fortunes: A Story of Early Days in Australia Page 4