_ CHAPTER LXXVII. CAPTURE OF THE BUSHRANGERS
"I've not been asleep, but still I've had a dream," Nancy replied to the insulting taunt of the robber.
"Hullo, here's a go. An old woman can dream with her eyes open. Tell us what it was all about, old Tabby."
The woman looked sternly at her tormentor, but did not deign to reply; but the robbers were not disposed to have her rest in peace.
"Come, Tabby, tell us the dream," cried the first speaker.
"You would know it, would you?" she asked, her dark face looking grim and sardonic in the wavering light of the fire, which was kept up by throwing on wood that had long laid exposed to the hot sun of Australia.
"To be sure I would; and, while you are about it, tell my fortune. Whether I shall be rich and marry a princess, like them old fellers, hundreds of years ago, that we read about in some book, blast me if I know the name of it. Come, fire away while I smoke my pipe, and try to kill a few of these d----d mosquitoes that have got bills longer than a criminal lawyer in full practice in Old Bailey."
The man filled his pipe with tobacco, an example that was followed by those who had finished gorging, and after he had lighted it, he turned his head in the direction of the prisoners, as though signifying that he was ready to listen.
"The only wife that you will marry will be the gibbet," the old woman said, spitefully.
"Peace, you old hag," cried the bushranger, angrily. "How dare you talk to me in that sort of way?"
"I thought that you wanted to hear what I have been dreaming about?" she replied, with a sneer.
"So I do, but don't you mention gibbets, do you hear, 'cos you might provoke me, and then you would dangle from one of these trees, a scarecrow that would cause old Wright much wonder. Now you go ahead."
"I dreamed that I was in a crowd of excited people, who were walking towards a prison where they said an execution was to take place. I went with them, for I felt that I had received so many injuries at the hands of men that it would be joy to my wounded heart to see them suffer. I struggled until I reached the front ranks of the crowd, and then waited patiently until a procession, headed by soldiers with solemn music, left the prison and marched towards the scaffold."
"Didn't I tell you not to talk about such things?" cried the bushranger, fiercely.
"Then I will not;" and the woman remained silent.
"Let her go on with the yarn," the other robbers exclaimed. "Let her tell what she likes about hanging coveys, if she pleases. Fire away, old woman."
Thus commanded, she resumed the subject of her pretended dream.
"I thought that I saw three prisoners, with faces covered with black crape, march with trembling steps towards the scaffold, while the hangman, who walked beside them, continually shouted, with a voice so loud that it was heard by every one, 'Behold, these men are about to be executed for murder and robbery. Don't pray for them, Christians, for your prayers will be in vain. They are denounced by God and man, and hell alone knows how to punish them as their many crimes deserve.'"
"You old she devil, can't you tell us something more lively than that?" demanded one of the bushrangers, glancing around uneasily.
"The best is yet to come," she replied, calmly, her eyes fixed upon vacancy, as though she really saw the scenes she was narrating.
"Well, let's have the rest, and don't be too hard on bushrangers, if it's all the same to you."
"I saw the procession reach the scaffold, and the three condemned men ascend the steps, although they trembled so that they had to be supported by the soldiers, for, though they could kill and rob, they were cowards at heart, and were to die like dogs."
"They should have given the coveys a pint of brandy each, and then they would have been all right," grunted the fellow whom the bushranger called Bill.
"A prayer was made by the clergyman," continued Nancy, not heeding the interruption, "and then the men were informed they could say any thing if they wished. The crape was removed from their faces, and I saw--"
"Who?" exclaimed the listeners, eagerly.
"Your face, and yours, and yours," she cried, pointing to three of the men, who sprang to their feet with frightful oaths, and murder in their hearts.
"Let's hang her," cried one.
"Burn her for a witch," said another.
"D----m her," cried the third; while the fourth, who seemed to be much pleased that he was left out of the galaxy of rascality, remained silent and thoughtful.
"Don't harm her," exclaimed the younger woman, removing her hands from her face, and endeavoring to shelter the person of her companion; but the bushrangers were regardless of her entreaties, and pushed her aside with rudeness.
I did not stop to see more. I rapidly made my way back to Mr. Wright and party, who were anxiously expecting me, for they had begun to grow alarmed at my absence.
"Not a moment is to be lost," I said. "Follow me, and make no noise."
"What is up?" demanded Mr. Wright, who perhaps did not like to have his command usurped so rudely, although he did not object.
"I cannot stop to explain now. Haste, or there will be murder committed," I replied.
No more questions were asked, and in less than five minutes after we were in motion we were near enough to the bushrangers to witness their operations. They were holding a council, and debating violently what sort of death poor Nancy should die, but could not agree. They supposed her words were deserving of instant punishment, and each man thought his method of taking her life the more praiseworthy. The discussion saved Nancy, for we were enabled to reach the spot before the fellows could make up their minds.
Even in that dreadful moment the tongue of Nancy did not lose its bitterness, and she was bold enough to boast that her words would come true, and them what she had told as a vision would prove a reality.
"Now, then, men, rush on, but don't use your pistols unless necessary. Let us make them prisoners," whispered Mr. Wright.
We answered back that we were ready, and dashed forward just as the ruffians had decided that to hang the woman would be a more pleasant spectacle than to burn her.
"Hurrah for Ireland," shouted Mike, springing into the clearing where the enemy were encamped.
The bushrangers were so taken by surprise that they had no chance to gain possession of their weapons, or to beat a retreat. One fellow, when he saw us emerge from the bushes, drew his knife and struck at Mike; but it was the last blow that he ever made, for the enraged Irishman shortened his spear, so that he could use it to more advantage, and then drove it through the body of his opponent, and from the squirming wretch's back protruded the barbed point. The fellow threw his arms wildly over his head, and fell to the ground, and with his last breath cursed his slayer and the whole of mankind.
There was not much for us to do, although every man present, including the two natives, performed the limited part assigned with fidelity and despatch.
The ghost, whose true English instincts would not allow him to be outdone by Mike, made the welkin ring with shouts for England and himself at the grand charge, and then had deliberately knocked down the most burly of the robbers, and placed his foot upon his breast, and hold him there until the melee was ended.
Of course, the other robbers were easily disposed of, for we were two to one; but even after we had them securely pinioned, they taunted us with cowardice, and dared us to meet them in open fight, where they could stand some chance for their lives. Their complaints were unheeded, although Mike and the ghost both expressed a wish to meet two of the men, and give them fair play, according to the well-known rules of the prize ring of London, of which institution the shepherd professed to have vast admiration. The idea was not to be thought of, and the two champions were discontented.
The women had remained spectators of the scene without offering to escape, for they knew into whatever hands they fell they could not be treated much worse than they had been, and just at the moment we made our appearance a change was quite desirable.
I thought that once I heard the shrill voice of Nancy raised in thanksgiving to the Lord for the rescue, and the death of the bushranger, but was so busy at the moment that I did not pay much attention.
"Ladies," said Mr. Wright, "we have rescued you from your unpleasant company, and I shall take great pleasure in offering you a portion of my house until you can make arrangements to join your friends. My name is Wright, and I reside but a short distance from this fording place."
"I told you we should meet with some of old Wright's folks," grumbled Bill, who was extended upon the ground, his hands secured behind his back.
"Yes, you scamp, I am 'old Wright,' as you termed me, and believe me, I never felt prouder of the name than at this moment, when I have helped rescue the women from your clutches, and feel that there is a chance of seeing you hanged."
"God be praised," cried Nancy; "we have met with Christians at last. When men speak of the gibbet, I know that they have served the Lord and will fight the devil. To-night you have fought four devils instead of one, and like angels have overcome them."
"Do you hear that, Bill? The old wench calls Wright an angel," exclaimed one of the scamps, turning his head towards his companion as well as he was able.
"If we had him on the mountain we would make an angel of him d----d quick, by singeing off his hair," replied the fellow addressed as Bill.
"Who is the woman by your side?" Mr. Brown asked Nancy.
"Ah, poor thing, she was on her way to the mines with her husband, when these devils set upon us, killed the men, and made us prisoners. If my old man had been there it wouldn't have happened, I know," was Nancy's confident reply.
"Why so?" I asked.
"Because he can lick half a dozen such cowards as these, and one glance of his eye would have been sufficient to have frightened them."
"That is so, Nance," laughed one of the prisoners; "he is frightfully cross-eyed, and as homely as a hedgehog."
"The Lord be thankful for it, for I know that if his eyes are not right his heart is."
"Keep your remarks to yourself," said Mr. Wright, sternly, addressing the prostrate man; but that they had no intention of doing, for, like all desperadoes, they were determined to appear "game" to the last.
"Don't you think, master, dear, that I'd better string 'em on me spear like herring? 'Twould save a dale of trouble," asked Mike.
"That death would be too easy for them. They must die on the gallows," Mr. Wright said, impressively.
"And how do you know which is the easiest, old cock?" demanded Bill. "Was you ever hung for sheep stealing, or skewered for house breaking?"
"Pay no attention to them, sir," Nancy exclaimed. "They are demons from the other world, and will soon be at home."
"Amen," piously ejaculated the ghost.
We managed, after some little persuasion, to get the women upon their feet, and inspire them with energy enough to undertake the journey to the house.
[Illustration: "Don't harm her!" exclaimed the younger woman, removing her hands from her face, and endeavoring to shelter the person of her companion; but the bushrangers were regardless of her entreaties, and pushed her aside with rudeness.]
As for the horses and the dead bushranger, we left them at the ford until morning, when Mr. Wright proposed to send men out to bury the one, and secure the others, and, if possible, return them to their owners.
As we walked along, Nancy related to me the adventures which she had encountered since leaving Melbourne. She was an old campaigner in Australia, and was on her way to Tares Creek to join her husband, who had been mining in that location ever since gold was first discovered.
He had intrusted her with a few hundred pounds to visit the city and purchase provisions and articles of daily use sufficient to last them through the wet season, and she had performed her mission, and instead of waiting for one of the regular freighting teams to take her to the creek, she had engaged passage with two miners, one of whom had his wife with him, and who owned a pair of horses and a wagon. Luckily Nancy had left her goods in the city, with orders to forward them by the freight wagons, so that she lost nothing personally, even if the ruffians did search her person, disbelieving her assertion that she was destitute of money and valuables.
The bushrangers had ambushed the party and shot them at their leisure, and did the business as coolly and with as much indifference as though the poor fellows had been sheep, and the ruffians hungry and in want of mutton. They didn't seem to think that they had done a cruel action; and when the younger female, whose name was Betsey Trueman, shed bitter tears at her loss, the brutes jested at her grief, and promised to supply his place with a fresher and more active husband. They couldn't understand why a woman should mourn for one man when there were others ready to take his place.
"The onfeeling wretches," Nancy said, concluding her story, "they had the impudence to put their hands not only in Betsey's pocket, but mine, too. I boxed the puppy's ears, and he had to bear it, although he did draw his knife and threaten to cut me to pieces. I wish that my old man had been there when he made the attempt. He would have broken every bone in his body, and then tore him limb from limb."
"That would have been rather a cruel fate," I remarked, somewhat amused at her eulogistic description of her husband's strength.
"Well, he could do it," was her confident answer, and I have no doubt that she thought so.
We reached the bend of the stream, where we had crossed an hour before, without accident, for the moon was shining full and bright, but when we intimated to our prisoners that it was desirable that they should wade through the water, which already began to subside, they doggedly refused, and all our urging was useless. They feared that we intended to drown them; and even when we sent Kala to the other side of the creek to prove that the water was not deep, they still remained sulky and obstinate.
"Let me argue the point wid 'em," Mike said, appealing to Mr. Wright, who reluctantly gave his consent.
"Step up, ye divils, the Irishman shouted, applying his sharp-pointed spear to the sides of the most obstinate robber.
"Go to the devil, you Irish bogtrotter!" was the reply.
"Did ye hear him, master, dear, call me names? O, that the ruffians should abuse a dacent lad, who has worked night and day for the paraties that he ates, and the meat that he drinks."
"Whiskey, more like," grunted Bill.
"I'll whiskey ye, ye devils; start at once, or by St. Patrick I'll drive ye into the water like the holy man did the toads and snakes--long life to him."
Still the ruffians held back, and swore roundly, that they would not stir, unless carried across the stream; and at this display of obstinacy, Mike lost all mercy.
"Ye won't go, hey?" he shouted, bringing his spear fair against the broadest portion of one of the bushranger's bodies; "of coorse ye won't move, hey?"
As he spoke, he pressed harder and harder, but the ruffian stood his ground remarkably well, although he must have suffered considerably.
"Is that one of the poisoned spear points?" Mr. Brown asked, carelessly.
"Of coorse it is," replied Mike, promptly, seeing the pertinence of the question.
"You Irish thief, do you mean to say that the spear is pisened?" demanded the robber, eagerly.
"Of coorse I do; ye die in less than an hour, unless the pisen is worked out of the wound."
The bushrangers waited to hear no more. They sprang into the creek with wonderful rapidity, and waded across, followed by Mike, who continually threatened them with a repetition of his weapon unless they behaved themselves like dacent lads.
"The spear is not poisoned, I hope," I said to Mr. Wright.
"No, if it had been, I should have objected to its use. The fellows are born to be hanged, so there's no danger of their dying any other way."
As soon as the bushrangers were on the other side, we carried the women across, and then picked our way to the house, tired and sleepy, and extremely desirous of a taste of the punch which we had left behind. Our prisoners no longer objected to obeying Mike's injunctions, and he was quite proud of his authority over them.
Kala, swift of loot, had hastened on in advance of us, and announced our arrival to the inmates of the house, and as we drew near, the laborers flocked towards us with cheers of triumph at our success, and words of scorn for the prisoners.
So much did the men sympathize with the women, that they insisted upon carrying them to the house; and although Nancy kicked and scratched when she found a pair of strong arms around her, she was obliged to succumb, and was ultimately landed in the dining room, half angry, and yet half pleased, at her conveyance.
The noise awakened the parrot, and he added his voice to the general uproar.
"More bushrangers! more bushrangers!" the bird shouted; "I told you so; I see 'em! rascals! rascal! steal sheep, ho, ho!"
"Keep quiet, Poll," said Mr. Wright.
"I won't!" promptly responded Poll; and he was as good as his word, for as long as we talked he would, although sometimes his speeches were not quite apropos while the ladies were present.
"I don't know how you can change your clothes, ladies," Mr. Wright said, seeing that, they stood in great need of such an arrangement; "the fact of it is, I never had the fortune to have a wife, so women's garments are unknown in my poor house."
"Give 'em men's," shrieked the parrot; "who cares?"
"The first sensible words that you have spoken to-night, Poll," the master exclaimed.
"Is it?" was the brief ejaculation of the bird, as though inclined to doubt the truth of that remark.
"If you will retire to a room that shall be allotted to you during your stay here, I will provide you with such garments as I have. They are dry and clean and you can use them until your own are in proper order. No one will notice the change, for, believe me, we all sympathize too deeply in your misfortunes to feel aught but pity."
"As for myself," replied Nancy, promptly, "I shall feel extremely obliged, for I have worn damp garments so long that I am almost like a mermaid. But this poor thing," pointing to Betsey, "only desires to lay her aching head upon a pillow, and forget her misery."
"Haven't got one in the house," promptly responded Poll.
"She needs food. Let her come to the table after you have made such alterations as are necessary."
"So do I," croaked the bird.
"If you will have a cup of tea made, I am confident that it will benefit her more than food. As for myself, I don't fear to confess that I am hungry, and shall eat heartily," Nancy said.
"Of bushrangers?" roared Poll, who seemed to be undecided how to class the ladies of our party, never having seen a woman in that part of the country.
"The tea shall be prepared, and by the time you have changed your clothes supper will be ready. Jackson, give me a candle, and I will show the ladies into the west room, where they can be as secluded as though in their own house;" and it was admirable to see the hearty farmer bow, and precede the females up the wide, hard wood stairs, displaying as much gallantry and care for their comfort as though he was to marry one of them next day.
"Good night, master," shrieked the mischievous bird, bringing a red flush to Mr. Wright's face.
"I'm coming back to punish you for your impudence, sir," our host said, shaking his finger at the bird.
"Don't hurry yourself. D----n bushrangers--where's the d----n bushrangers?" and as Mr. Wright disappeared from view, the bird turned its attention to other topics, and after surveying us with commendable attention, croaked out,--
"Give me bread; Poll's hungry."
"And so am I," Mr. Brown answered, making an attempt to stroke the bird's head, but the familiarity was rebuked by a vigorous peck, that almost started the skin.
"You little devil, what do you mean?" my friend said, almost angry.
"That's right; swear and d----n! Where's the women? I love women! I should like to hug one."
"You vulgar little brute! Where did you learn your bad manners?" I asked.
"Mike, Mike, Mike."
"Well, Mike might be in better business. You have got some queer crotchets in your head that are hardly suitable for a ladies boudoir, especially if she expected gentlemen visitors," and Mr. Brown surveyed the talented bird with considerable admiration, although he kept at a respectful distance.
Jackson now made his appearance, and began to lay the dishes for supper, first driving the laborers into their own sitting room, where they surrounded the bushrangers, and, I am sorry to say, did not treat them exactly as prisoners should have been used.
Left together, Mr. Brown and myself superintended Jackson, and wished for supper, so that we could get a few hours' sleep before daylight. _