_ CHAPTER LXXVI. MIKE TUMBLES INTO THE RIVER.--ARRIVAL OF THE BUSHRANGERS
"That d----d Irishman has tumbled into the creek," cried Mr. Wright, endeavoring to suppress a laugh that did find utterance.
"Here's the river, sure!" shouted Mike, "and a cussed mane one it is. Help me out!"
"Be quiet," said Mr. Wright, "or you'll alarm the bushrangers."
"And do you intend that I shall strangle myself for the purpose of letting the blackguards git kilt?" remonstrated the Hibernian; "I've swallowed a gallon of the dirty water already, and it's cowld on my stomach. Help me out, will ye?"
We reached the scene of the Irishman's disaster, and were compelled to wait for a flash of lightning for the purpose of seeing his situation. When the flash did reveal his position, we saw that he was clinging to some rocks most tenaciously, while the boiling waters were bubbling over his head, which he made no attempt to raise beyond the reach of danger.
"Crawl up the bank, you loon!" cried Mr. Wright, but the advice was unheeded.
"Save me!" yelled Mike; "I can't swim and I'm filled with the bloody dust, that weighs me down like lead. A thousand dollars to the man who gives me his hand first."
"Well, give me the thousand dollars, and I'll help you out," Mr. Wright said, facetiously.
"Ah, master dear, won't you take my word for the money, or wait till I arn it?"
"Just as I always thought," grumbled our host; "an Irishman will promise any thing in distress, even while he knows that he has no means of performing his engagements."
"But isn't it better to do so, master dear, than to make no promises and die?" asked the Irishman, and I rather thought that he had him on that question.
"Perhaps you are right," our host answered, and extending his hand, he helped Mike to terra firma, and landed him just as Kala informed us that the ford was ten or twelve rods down the stream.
Mike recovered his spear, and we once more started, under the guidance of the natives, and quickly gained the spot that we had spent so much time in searching for.
The ford had been used but seldom, and resembled the rest of the creek, with the exception that the bushes and underbrush had been cut from the banks of the stream, so that horses, and other cattle, after fording, could gain the plain without trouble.
Kala threw himself upon his hands and knees, and carefully examined, by the lightning flashes, the various footprints which marked the spot, and which the heavy rain had failed to wash away.
"Well, Kala," Mr. Wright said, impatiently.
"No come yet," answered the native, quietly.
"Are you sure of that?" our host asked.
"I might have known that, if I had only given the subject a thought, muttered our host.
"Well, what are we to do?" asked Mr. Brown, gathering his oil-cloth around his person, and evidently thinking of the punch, and a good night's rest; "are we to stay here until daylight, and watch for a party of men who may be upon the summit of Mount Tarrengower at the present time? I wouldn't object to waiting, but I don't like the idea of sitting here and doing nothing, while the rain is endeavoring to obtain a nearer acquaintance with my neck and bosom."
"I don't see any other course," Mr. Wright replied; "it's evident that the devils have not crossed the creek, and can't to-night, but the streams of Australia subside rapidly, and the instant the rain ceases to fall they will attempt to ford. We must stay here and watch for the scamps. Remember the female prisoners."
"It's all very well to say remember the females, but if I ruin my health who is to remember me, and take care of me?" grumbled Mr. Brown.
"I will," promptly responded our host.
"Then I suppose that I must stay here all night, and make a fool of myself by running my head into danger, as I have done fifty times before, and get no thanks for it--hullo! what was that?"
Before Mr. Brown spoke, Kala had glided to the side of Mr. Wright, and called his attention, in a quiet manner, to a crashing of brunches that he had heard on the other side of the river. Our host was too busy listening to the ravings of Mr. Brown to pay attention to him at that moment, and the native knew the disposition of his master too well to be imperative, so Kala didn't have the honor of alarming our squad, or calling attention to what was going on on the other side.
In an instant after Mr. Brown's exclamation, there was a breathless silence, and not a man moved to the right or left.
"They come," whispered Kala.
He was correct in his supposition, for in a few minutes we could hear the party we were in pursuit of halt at the edge of the brook, opposite to us, and discuss the prospect of attempting to ford, high as the water was.
We quietly retreated behind trees and bushes, so that the lightning should not reveal our presence to the enemy, but we were no sooner secreted than we were rewarded by getting a view of the four bushrangers, who were holding horses, on which were mounted the two females, whose capture had so excited our sympathy.
"D----n it, Bill," I heard one of the fellows exclaim, for the creek was not more than four yards across, "didn't I tell you that we couldn't ford here to-night with the hosses? If we had come the other way twould been all right."
"Yes, and run our heads flat agin that d----d Wright, who is always on the lookout, with his tribe of cussed Irishmen, ready to fight or drink bad whiskey," grumbled the man whom they had called Bill.
"Do ye hear him reflecting on me country?" whispered Mike, grasping his long spear, as though he would like to encounter the libellers of his countrymen without a moment's delay.
"Be quiet," ordered Mr. Wright, "and let us hear what the villains talk about."
"If it hadn't been for these 'ere wimin, we might have been out of this fix," cried the first speaker, still grumbling.
"Well, what could we do with 'em, 'cept bring 'em along?" asked Bill.
"Do with em?" cried the ruffian, with a bitter oath, "why, draw our knives across their throats, and let 'em run. That's the way to clear out prisoners. Women have no business with the gang. There's always a quarrel about 'em."
"And 'spose there is? ain't it a compliment to the dear creatures? I'd rather fight for 'em, I tell you, than not see their faces after they get good natured, and the cap'n generally brings 'em round in a precious short time."
"Eh, don't he?" grunted the third man, speaking for the first time.
"I tell ye my plan is best, and it's time ye knowed it. We carry half a dozen into camp to eat up the grub, and make the men lazy. There's no getting work out of the coveys while they is alive, and you know it."
"For pity's sake kill us, and end our misery," I heard one of the females say, appealing to the fellow who seemed in favor of killing prisoners, to save the trouble of taking care of them.
"If I had my way, I'd do it d----d quick," he grumbled.
"We are tired, and can hardly sit on the horses. For the sake of your mothers, who were women, leave us here in the wilderness to perish, or to find shelter, as it shall please Heaven."
"Cease that whine of yours, or I'll throw you into the creek," threatened the ruffian of the party.
"Do so, if you dare!" exclaimed another voice, which I imagined belonged to a female of more advanced age than the first speaker; "you are ugly enough for any thing," she continued, growing excited as she proceeded, and raising her voice until it approached a scream, "but I don't believe that you have the true courage of a man. A man!" she repeated, "you are nothing but a tailor. Where's your goose?"
I could hear the bushrangers indulge in a chuckling laugh, as though the language used to their companion was relished.
"Stop your mouth, you dirty ----, or I'll stuff a goose down your throat!" shouted the ruffian, furious with rage.
"You?" she asked, contemptuously; "why, if my old man was within sound of my voice, you would run like a sheep from a dog. You are the biggest coward connected with the gang, and they only keep you 'cos you can mend their clothes. A tailor! Bah, you are only the ninth part of a man, and a botch at that."
"By G----d, woman, you shall feel the length of my knife if you don't close your mouth," shouted the ruffian, that the woman was goring to madness.
"O Nancy, do be quiet," cried her companion.
"Keep quiet for the threat of that braggart?" the shrill-voiced woman demanded; "why, if I had a bodkin I'd spit him on it." "Would you?" cried the bushranger; "then I'll give you a taste of the same sort of stuff!"
We heard a struggle for a few seconds, and then the earnest tones of the most liberal ruffian in remonstrance.
"Put up your knife, you fool, and don't let a woman get the better of you. Don't you see that she's trying to provoke you to kill her."
"And I will do it, too," yelled the brute.
"No you won't, not as long as I've got charge of this squad. I ain't going to do all the work, and then let you act as you please, by a d----n sight. Touch that woman, and I'll make a hole in your side big enough to throw in a Bible. Put up your knife, and let us see if we can't cross the creek before daylight."
"Well, don't let her insult me again, that's all," the fellow said, in reply to the threat, although it seemed that he was prepared to obey the order, much as he disliked it.
"Insult you! you miserable specimen of a fool? why, it would be impossible to insult you, for your life is but an insult to your Maker!" cried the shrill-voiced woman, who had been addressed by the name of Nancy.
"I'd like to hire that woman to do my scolding," whispered Mr. Wright. "Lord, how she would make the men fly if they didn't come to dinner at the exact time."
By a flash of lightning we could see three of the bushrangers examining the banks of the creek, for the purpose of judging whether it could be forded by the horses or not.
They seemed to decide against its feasibility, for we heard them grumbling at the idea of stopping there all night, and getting sighted by "d----d old Wright" in the morning.
Our host listened to the complimentary remarks about himself with great glee, for it showed that he was a power that was respected by the robbing fraternity, and that they took good care to visit his range of land as little us possible.
"Are we to stay here in the wet all night?" grumbled Mr. Brown.
"I don't see how we are to avoid it," Mr. Wright replied.
"Let us cross the creek, and take those fellows in the rear," I whispered; "in half an hour we can have every one of them prisoners, or else _hors du combat_."
Mr. Wright didn't like the project, as he thought that it was running too great a risk. Mr. Brown meditated on the undertaking, while the ghost was pleased with the idea, and vowed that he could accomplish the project alone. As for Mike, he was in ecstasies at the plan, only he couldn't swim, which somewhat damped his ardor.
"Ask Kala if there is a place where we can cross, where the water is not over our heads?" I inquired of Mr. Wright.
He put the question, and the native replied that a few rods down the stream, at a bend, we could cross on a bar, where the water would not be more than up to our armpits.
Mr. Wright no longer hesitated, but gave the order to move down the stream to the place proposed, and as the rain had nearly ceased, and the moon was high in the heavens, we had no difficulty in finding the spot which Kala indicated.
Our only trouble was to prevent the bushrangers from seeing our movements, so that they should not be prepared for our reception. This we were enabled to do by keeping within the shade of the bushes and trees, which grew in profusion upon the banks of the stream.
"Lead the way. Mike, and find out the deep places with your spear," commanded Mr. Wright, but the Irishman held back.
"I couldn't think of taking advantage of my betters, and going before 'em," pleaded Mike.
"Are you afraid?" our host demanded, angrily.
"Divil a bit, master; but it's misgivings I have about the water. What it was made for, 'cept to mix with punch, I don't see."
"Kala go first," muttered the native, and without waiting for orders, he dropped quietly into the stream, followed by Iala.
"The divil! but can't I go where the nager does?" demanded Mike, and he was up to his shoulders in the brook before we could answer him.
The ghost followed Mike, and then the rest of us, leaving our oil-cloth coverings on the bank of the stream, crossed without difficulty, taking good care that our revolvers were kept dry.
"Now, I want all to keep silent, and obey my orders," whispered Mr. Wright; "when I give the word to fire, do so, but not before.
"Now then, let us steal forward as fast as possible, and Kala, you and Iala can remain behind, if you please."
"Kala and Iala will go with you," was the prompt reply, and I marvelled at it, for the natives are dreadfully afraid of firearms when in the the hands of white men.
"Now, gentlemen, let us onward, and may the God of battles give us success. If any accident should befall either of us, we shall have the satisfaction of knowing that we suffered in a good cause. Be careful how you step, and don't be impatient."
Mr. Wright placed himself at the head of the column, and moved along carefully, and with some considerable knowledge of woodcraft, although I almost lost all patience by his continually stopping and listening, as though that part of the performance was really necessary to insure success.
The rain had now entirely ceased, and the black clouds overhead had parted, and showed light fleecy ones, tinged by the rays of the moon, which was struggling to show its face, as though angry at having been hid from the earth for such a length of time.
This circumstance required our movements to be prompt if we wished to surprise the ruffians, but Mr. Wright was not a man to be hurried by such trifles. He had a peculiar idea of how such matters should be conducted, and neither Mr. Brown nor myself were disposed to interfere with his plans.
Suddenly, when within twenty rods of the place where the bushrangers were camped we saw a light, and for a few minutes Mr. Wright was uncertain whether to advance or retreat, thinking that the light was intended as an ambush to draw us under fire.
In vain I explained that the bushrangers had kindled a fire for the purpose of cooking a sheep, or a portion of one, and Mr. Brown entertained the same idea, but Mr. Wright said we were young men, and rash at that, and that we were not to be trusted.
We were more amazed than indignant, knowing that our host regarded our safety more than his own, for he was as brave as a lion, and would have willingly fought the whole gang had it been necessary to prove his courage.
At length I volunteered to act the part of a scout, and investigate matters, but for a long time Mr. Wright would not listen to my advances, until I saw that there was a prospect of our remaining on the ground all night, and then I tore myself away, and requested my friends to remain quiet until my return.
This they promised to do, and I started on my mission, not a dangerous one, as I knew full well, for the ruffians did not suspect the presence of our force, and I felt certain that they had no sentinels posted.
The result justified my expectations, for when I had crawled as noiselessly as a cat to within a rod of the light, I saw that the robbers had in some way managed to kindle a fire, which, by the way, attracted myriads of flies and mosquitoes, and they were biting as only Australian flies and mosquitoes know how to bite, much to the rage of the bushrangers, who were cooking meat, and endeavoring to beat off the cloud of insects by threshing their heavy hands about their heads, and uttering oaths that were frightfully original and emphatic.
They were coarse-looking fellows, but dressed better than bushrangers usually were, and I accounted for it by supposing that they had made a successful plundering expedition, and got new suits from their victims; and such I afterwards found to be the case.
I endeavored to get a view of the faces of the women, and by changing my position I succeeded. The youngest one was not more than twenty-five years of age, but she looked careworn and weary, and seldom removed her hands from her face, except, to answer a question addressed to her by her companion, who seemed about forty years of age, and by the flickering light of the fire I read determination upon every line of her countenance, weather-beaten and grim as it was.
The bushrangers were broiling their meat upon sticks, and eating it with a relish that smacked of a long fast; and while the women were seated near the fire on saddles taken from the horses, which were tied to a tree, and were browsing upon the tender branches, the men did not offer them food, until one fellow, whose appetite seemed sated, offered the younger one his stick, upon which was a huge lump of flesh nearly raw.
She declined the tempting morsel with a shudder, and the action produced an oath from the ruffian, and an insulting gesture, so vile that I could hardly keep my hand from seeking the lock of my revolver and shooting him on the spot.
"O, well, Miss Dainty, you'll come to your appetite one of these days, see if you don't. Mark what I tell you;" and the other ruffians smiled at their companion's wit.
"There's blood on the hand that offered her food--her husband's blood. How do you suppose she can touch what you feel disposed to give?" cried the elderly woman, who was called Nancy.
"Hullo, old croaker, I thought that you were asleep," the bushranger said; but still I noticed that he glanced at his hand, and wiped it on his clothes, as though the stain was burning his flesh like a coal of fire. _