_ CHAPTER VIII. AN EXPEDITION.--A FIGHT WITH BUSHRANGERS.--DEATH OF BLACK DARNLEY
"I don't like the expedition," said Smith, pettishly, as he saw Fred and myself examining our powder-flasks and counting bullets.
"Then stay here and await our return," cried Fred, bluntly, looking up from his work.
Smith moved uneasily, muttered something in an under tone, felt the edge of his constant companion, a heavy axe, and then replied,--
"If you two harum-scarum youngsters are determined to get your throats cut, I don't see but that I shall have to be near at hand. But I tell you it is bad business, and none but crazy men would think of penetrating that dark forest in search of bushrangers."
"You wouldn't let that old man go alone, would you?" we asked.
"No; but then--"
He stopped a moment, as though to collect his thoughts, and pettishly exclaimed,--
"D---- it, you are going in search of the worst gang on the island. Black Darnley is equal to all three of us in a personal encounter."
"But suppose we kept him at bay, and tried the effect of rifle shot?" I asked, holding up a short, heavy, instrument, carrying about twenty-five to a pound.
"The rifle looks like a true one, and I know that you boys can shoot, but suppose that you didn't get the chance?"
"Then we must trust to luck," answered Fred, coolly.
"I'm no great hand at bush-fighting," replied Smith; "but we have joined our fortunes for a trip to the mines, and I'm not the man to desert you at the time of need."
"Then you'll go?" we asked.
"Yes; if I get killed it matters not much."
In half an hour we were ready; each man carried a small knapsack, containing a few cakes of bread and the remains of the kangaroo, while Smith provided himself with a small bottle, the contents of which he kept a profound secret.
Not knowing whether we should ever be fortunate enough to return and claim the few articles of property that belonged to us, Fred and myself paused for a moment to bid them farewell.
Standing in the doorway of the stockman's hut, we saw the form of his injured daughter watching us on our tramp. She remained motionless' until we turned to continue our march, and then she waved a blood-red handkerchief as though bidding us remember her injuries and avenge them.
Right before us, at a distance of five miles, was a dark line of trees, extending for many leagues along the horizon. In the depths of that forest few white men had ever penetrated. Once, a dozen of the police of Melbourne attempted to break up a gang of bushrangers who sheltered themselves upon the edge of this wild region. On the alarm being given, the villains discharged a volley at the officers and then fled. Five of the police were killed or wounded, but the remainder, nothing daunted, started in pursuit. They got separated amidst the thickets, and but one man returned alive to Melbourne. The remainder either got lost and starved to death, or else were killed by the bushrangers. After that, government was content to offer large rewards for the apprehension of the escaped convicts, but the police did not care to venture a second time into their dread abode.
I have mentioned these circumstances to show that the undertaking upon which we had embarked was one of no ordinary kind; that there was much peril and little honor to be gained in an encounter with half a dozen desperate men, who knew that their lives depended upon the stout resistance which they should offer, and of course would fight to the death.
If we did look sharply to the loading of our rifles, and felt the long bowie knives that we carried at our waist to find whether the blades worked easily in their sheaths, it was because we expected to use them, and knew that our only hope to return alive was by a prompt employment of the deadly weapons when an encounter took place.
It was near nine o'clock when we halted upon the outskirts of the dark forest. Hardly a ray of the hot sun penetrated the woods; all was gloomy and silent. Occasionally a parrot upon the borders of the forest uttered a shrill scream, and then spreading its gaudy wings sought shelter upon the bough of a tall tree, from whence it could watch our movements without danger.
The hound, which we had taken with us, ran with his nose close to the ground, sometimes moving within a few feet of the trees, and then starting off, scouring the prairie in his search, but always returning, until he suddenly stopped before what seemed a dense thicket. During all the time that he had been upon the scent not a cry had escaped him; indeed, he seemed to realize that silence was our only safety, and acted accordingly.
"The dog has found the trail of the bushrangers," the convict said, suddenly halting, and waiting for the rest of us to join him.
"The dog is keen on the scent, and acts as though trained to track runaways," cried Smith, resting his heavy axe upon the ground, and rubbing his shoulder where the skin was nearly worn off by friction.
The animal bounded towards us, wagged his tail, looked into our faces with his knowing eyes, and then trotted slowly back to the thicket before which he had halted in the first place.
"Don't let us stand here all day under this broiling sun," cried Fred, impatiently. "If we are to search for bushrangers, let's begin and get through with the job as soon as possible."
"There is no haste," cried the aged convict, in a tone of reproach. "Our success depends upon the degree of caution that we employ. Our object is to surprise the party we are in pursuit of, and not let them surprise us."
"O, I understand," replied Fred, indifferently; "something of the Indian style of warfare, hey? Well, we are somewhat used to that, and can follow a trail as well as any amateur hunters in the country."
The convict made no reply, but examined the priming of his gun, tightened the sash which he wore around his waist, and then, briefly surveying the little party, as though calculating on the relative strength of each man, he moved forward.
We gained the thicket, where the dog was awaiting us. No entrance through the dense undergrowth met our view; and had we not known that the dog came from a breed of hounds that never deceive, we should have deemed it impossible for human beings to have entered the forest in that direction.
For some time we examined the premises to find an opening; but none appearing, Smith swung his axe over his head and let its sharp edge strike the bushes, intending to cut a passage. As if by magic the boughs gave way, and we discovered an opening which bore the appearance of having been frequently used.
A brief examination convinced us of the fact. The branches of young trees and the tops of the bushes were so interlaced that no one would have suspected that an entrance into the forest was possible in that quarter. It proved to us that we were near the encampment of bushrangers, but whether the party we were in pursuit of, was more than we could tell.
We motioned to the hound to lead the way, and the noble animal, after a brief examination of the ground, trotted slowly forward.
Our steps were taken with caution, for we wished to come upon the outlaws unexpectedly.
For ten minutes we continued our silent march, the dog leading the way with unwavering instinct, avoiding the thickets and dense growth of trees,--hardly noticing the small wild animals of the hare species that ran before his very nose,--until he suddenly stopped and looked into our faces, as much as to say, "Now, pray be cautious."
"Hist!" cried the convict, who led the way, holding up his finger. "I smell smoke."
"And I can see it," replied Fred, pointing to an opening in the trees nearly a quarter of a mile distant.
We all strained our eyes in the direction that Fred indicated, and I no longer doubted that we were in the vicinity of an encampment, although neither Smith nor the convict was ready to testify that they saw signs of fire.
"I call my eyes as clear and keen as most any one's," Smith said; "but if you can see smoke it's more than I can do."
"My eyes are not so good as they were twenty years back, and I trust more to the scent than the sight. Now I can smell smoke, but see none," the aged convict said, inhaling his breath as though trying to distinguish from what direction it came.
"You Englishmen have never lived in one of our American forests, or you would be better acquainted with the appearance of smoke when it came from a fire that has long been neglected and is about dying out. I will wager a pound of good rifle powder that in yonder clearing we shall find a camp of bushrangers, and that the smoke which we see comes from the fire they made when they returned from their nocturnal excursion last night."
"You may be right," the convict said, in a musing tone. "If we are," he continued, "in close proximity to those we seek, what do you advise?"
"I would advise a seperation of forces--let Jack and myself approach the encampment in one direction, while you and Smith can steal towards it from another. There are many reasons why we should act in this manner, and you do not need my advice to be convinced of its force."
"May the God of battles aid us," muttered the convict,
sotto voce, as though fearful we should catch his words and fears. "I see," he continued, "the force of your reasoning. When you are ready for the attack, discharge your rifles, and mind and not waste a single shot."
The convict stalked on as he ceased speaking, following the lead of the dog. We were about to start in a different direction, but still verging towards the smoke, when we were detained by a few words from Smith.
"Remember, boys," he hurriedly whispered, "that if any thing occurs, you are to take charge of my property and remit the sale of it to my mother. She is somewhere, in London, I believe. Take care of yourselves, and remember that it was not I that proposed this confounded excursion."
He squeezed our hands as he spoke, and the next minute we lost sight of his burly form as he followed in the wake of the convict.
Still keeping the smoke in view, Fred and myself struck off in another direction. We carefully picked our way through the forest, hardly making noise enough to alarm the numerous birds that were perched upon the trees, in the deep shade, to avoid the heat of the sun. Not a dry stick was trodden upon to send forth its crackling sound--not a bough was brushed past rudely for fear its waving top should give an alarm. Silently we stole along, and were, as we thought, near the camp. We crept upon our hands and knees until we came in sight of an open space, and then upon the first glance we knew that we were close to a gang of bushrangers.
In the middle of the clearing was a low hut, covered with the hides of bullocks, which were nailed on shingle fashion, for the purpose of excluding rain. The logs did not fit very snugly together on the sides of the cabin, and grass was crowded into the chinks, although in some places it had been pushed out as for the purpose of enabling those within to take a survey of the different approaches to the hut. A fire was smoking before the door, looking as though it had been kindled many hours before and allowed to die out for want of fuel.
The only other sign of life was a grass hammock, which swung from the branch of a tree, not more than four feet from the ground, and which appeared to contain some person who was sleeping. For ten minutes after we reached our allotted station we waited for Smith and the convict to gain a position and give the signal for an attack.
[Illustration: Throwing down the weapon with an oath, the ruffian drew a long knife; but before he had an opportunity to use it, the heavy axe descended upon his unprotected head, and crashing through skull and brains, it clove him to the chin. Page 66.]
There were no signs of them, and we began to fear that they had strayed from the right path, when a small kangaroo dog walked lazily from the cabin and stood near the door, as though debating whether he should return and finish his nap or exercise in the open air. He was not long in making up his mind, for his keen scent detected something in the atmosphere that was not right; and where we were lying we could see his sharp eyes glance suspiciously around, and saw the stiff hair upon his back rise as though getting ready to meet the danger that was near at hand.
There was suddenly a bay--a loud, angry bark, and then the hound which had belonged to the murdered man bounded into the enclosure and fastened his strong teeth into the neck of the dog, the latter hardly offering battle so sudden was the onslaught.
There was a yelp of pain as the hound shook the smaller animal in his strong jaws, and that cry raised an alarm that brought half a dozen men, with long red and black beards, and repulsive faces, to the door of the hut.
We saw their look of surprise as their eyes alighted upon the fighting dogs--we saw them glance hastily around, and raise their guns, which they carried in their hands, as though to get ready for a sudden attack; and while we were in a state of uncertainty, and almost ready to commence the fight, a tall, powerful-built man, with heavy beard and long hair, rolled from the hammock in which he had been swinging, and rushed towards the yelping brutes.
"Whose dog is that?" he shouted, "and why do you stand there like a pack of fools, allowing them to make noise enough to wake the whole forest? We shall have the beaks upon us if this continues;" and as he spoke, he raised the branch of a tree which was lying near the fire, and lifting it as easily as a common man would a walking stick, he struck at the hound, who still held the kangaroo dog by the throat, and growled at his slightest movement as though he feared that one of the parties concerned in his master's murder would escape.
I held my breath while the huge club was suspended in the air, wielded, I knew full well, by the strong arms of Black Darnley. Twice I raised my rifle to my shoulder; and thought to interpose against what I considered certain death to the brute, but a fear that Smith and the convict were not at their stations prevented me.
I almost shouted a warning to the dog as the club descended, but my fears were vain; for the animal sprang aside, and the stick fell heavily upon the sharp-nosed dog of the bushrangers. He gave one yell, and was crushed into a shapeless mass.
The ruffian uttered an oath of rage; but before he could renew the attack the hound flew full at him, and fastened his long fangs into Darnley's throat. The latter staggered back, surprised at the sudden attack, but only for an instant. His stout hands were quickly raised, and then his grasp encompassed the dog's throat so tightly that his eyes nearly started from their sockets, and he was glad to unclinch his teeth, and gasp for breath.
Full at arm's length did Darnley hold the animal, and we could see a grim smile steal over his face as he thought of the pain he was inflicting. The gang started forward to assist the ruffian, but with an oath he bade them keep back and let him alone. I feared the dog's life was short, and determined to save it, but I was anticipated.
I heard the sharp crack of Fred's rifle close by my side, and following the direction of his aim, I saw Darnley loosen his hold of the dog, stagger back, press one hand upon his side as though he felt a sudden pain; but still he kept his feet, and waved to his gang encouragement, while his voice exclaimed,--
"The beaks are upon us, d----n 'em; show no quarter or mercy; fight till you die, or you'll all be hanged."
He staggered towards the hut as he spoke, but in trying to keep his balance, removed his hand from his side. A torrent of blood gushed forth, and dyed the ground a scarlet hue; he strove to keep upon his feet, but his strength was ebbing fast, and with a reel and lurch, like some strong ship before foundering, he fell to the ground, never to rise again.
His gang had rushed into the hut upon the first discharge, leaving their leader alone, unsupported; but as he fell, they issued forth, each armed with muskets and long pistols, and a profusion of knives.
"Fire," whispered Fred, as he hastily loaded his rifle.
I disliked the idea of shedding blood, and hesitated; but before Fred had driven his rifle ball home there was a discharge opposite to us, and another bushranger fell bleeding to the ground.
They raised a startling yell for vengeance, and rushed towards the spot where the smoke was ascending from the discharged musket. Before they had reached half way across the clearing, Fred and myself poured in our deadly fire, and two more of the escaped convicts fell mortally wounded.
They were then seized with a panic, and separating, each one seemed determined to seek safety in flight; but before they gained the shelter of the woods our revolvers were brought into requisition, and one more ravisher was made to bite the dust.
"May the God of Israel give us strength to kill them," shouted the convict, bursting through the thick bushes with his long gun in hand, and his white hair streaming over his shoulders.
"No mercy to the scoundrels," cried Smith, waving his heavy axe over his head, and advancing at a run in pursuit.
That cry came near being his last; for one of the bushrangers, seeing that he had no gun, suddenly turned in his flight, and raising his musket, presented it full at the broad breast of Smith. The latter did not falter or dodge, but rushed towards the robber with uplifted axe, uttering, as he advanced, a wild cry that startled me, it was so loud and shrill, and sounded like the last yell of a dying man in agony.
I feared to see the villain discharge his musket, for I knew that Smith was so near that he could not well be missed. I would have shot the fellow myself, but my rifle was empty; still thinking to save him, I ran hastily towards the parties; but before I had advanced ten steps I saw the bushranger's musket flash in the pan, but no report followed. His gun had missed fire.
Throwing down the weapon with an oath, the ruffian drew a long knife; but before he had an opportunity to use it the heavy axe descended upon his unprotected head, and crashing through skull and brains, it clove him to the chine.
With no groan or word he fell; and when I reached the side of Smith there was not another bushranger left to battle with. We were masters of the field, and not one of us had received a wound.
"Let us praise God for this victory," cried the aged convict, removing his apology for a hat, and casting his eyes heavenward.
"Humph," grunted Smith; "we'd better make preparations for quitting these woods, instead of praying, according to my fancy."
"To Him alone belongs the praise for this day's work--for this mighty triumph," cried the old man, whose religious feelings were all awakened by the carnage.
"I don't dispute that the Lord lent his aid, but to my mind, if it hadn't been for these two Americans, he'd deserted us in the hour of need. Two good rifle shots are a great help towards obtaining a victory," exclaimed Smith, wiping his axe of the crimson gore which still adhered to it, and glancing around the clearing, as though he expected there might be more bushrangers starting up to offer battle at any moment.
"The Almighty is powerful, and can crush at his pleasure."
"We all know that," cried Smith, impatiently, "but to my mind it's better to examine yonder hut, and then make our way back to the team as fast as possible, for there's no knowing how soon we may have a new gang to contend with."
His advice appeared so reasonable that we instantly prepared to follow it; but first we stopped by the side of Black Darnley, and examined to see whether he was dead. The rifle ball had made sure work, having passed through his left side in the direction of his heart, and made its exit below the ribs opposite. On the dark face of the dead man was a look of defiance, as though even in his death-struggle he had tried to gain his feet, and to face his enemies with his latest breath.
I removed the pistols which he wore in his belt, and as no one presented a better claim for them than Fred and myself, I divided with him; and during our long sojourn in Australia, he kept one, and I the other. He still clings to his, while I have deposited mine in the office of the American Union, as a sort of memento of times long past.
A visit to the hut was next paid, and there, heaped up in a corner, we not only found the goods which were stolen from Smith's cart, but numerous other articles; and while we were sorting them, I kicked aside some dirt, and saw a flat stone. Curiosity prompted me to move it, and underneath was a hoard of gold dust, gold coins, silver dollars, and English shillings and half crowns, the whole amounting to about two thousand pounds.
Without stopping to divide it, we gathered it up with the most convenient articles for carrying away, and then setting fire to the hut, left it blazing, knowing full well that those of the gang who escaped would return before long with reenforcements, and that our lives were not worth much if we were taken by surprise.
We gained the open prairie, and without stopping to rest, continued our march, until we reached the hut of the convict stockman. The daughter of the latter came out to us, and as she laid her hand upon her father's arm, she whispered,--
"Is he dead?"
He nodded his head, and then I saw a gleam of satisfaction cross her face, as she thought of her injuries, and the prompt manner in which they had been avenged. _