The Gilpins and their Fortunes Part 5

The outlaws hesitated, and even the natives seemed to understand what was said. Whereabouts the magic line was drawn, at which some of them would be certain to lose their lives, they could not tell. Soldiers in battle will dare any danger, but villains engaged in a criminal act are always cowards, unless driven to desperation. Such was not the case at present. A white handkerchief was shown on a stick, and a voice cried out--

"We don't want to hurt you, Mr Gilpin, or your brother, or man, but there 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 down the hut and you in it," was the answer.

"Remember the warning I have given you," said James; "however, we will just talk the matter over, and let you know what we decide."

"Be sharp about it, then," said the first speaker; "we did not come here to s.h.i.+lly-shally, and we shall advance directly the time is up. We give you five minutes to settle the matter."

"We must take ten; and recollect that our rifles will be kept ready for use," added James, firmly.

"I am afraid the fellows will put their threat into execution," said Craven. "Now, you see, our lives are of no use to any one, and so, when the ten minutes are up, tell them that we will go with them, if they will take their departure quietly, and not injure you."

"On no account would we do so!" exclaimed the brothers in the same breath. "I would not trust them, even if we should be base enough to give you up."

"Noa, sur; I'd sooner cut out my tongue than give ye up to them arrant knaves!" exclaimed Green, doubling his fist, and shaking it in the direction he supposed that the outlaws were collected.

The minutes pa.s.sed slowly by. They were doubtful whether the outlaws would begin the attack at the end of the five minutes, or wait till the termination of the ten. The dread of the fatal line, however, seemed to keep them back. The muzzles of the firearms were kept protruding from the walls, and, as there were several pistols as well as rifles, they made a good display of force, rather damping the courage of those who came expecting, probably, an easy victory.

The ten minutes came to an end, and fully another five had pa.s.sed by, and the outlaws did not advance. It was very clear, therefore, that they had not intercepted Larry, nor were aware that he had gone for the police. How long it might be before they could arrive it was impossible to say; perhaps when Larry reached their quarters the larger number had been sent in an opposite direction, and considerable time might be lost.

However, the importance of gaining as much time as possible was very great; for though the little garrison did not despair of beating off the enemy, they earnestly desired to avoid the bloodshed which must ensue if fighting once began.

James therefore waited with a sad and beating heart to give the fatal order, should the outlaws overstep the prescribed boundary.

"Well, what are you going to do?" shouted one of the men; "are you going to give up those fellows?"

"Who is it you are looking for?" asked James, glad of any means to spin out 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 being designated as `Gentleman Jim,'" said Craven, with a smile.

"I say, what are the right names of the chaps?" asked one of the outlaws of a comrade.

"I never knowed 'em by any other," was the answer.

"Come, come, master, you hand them out, and be done with it!" cried several of the men together.

"Supposing they were with us, and that we were to deliver them into your hands, what would you do with them?" asked James.

"Hang them up on the nearest tree, as we will you also, if you don't come 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; "think better 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 instantly began firing their muskets or fowling-pieces, the blacks at the same moment casting their spears.

"Hurra! Here come the police! Look out for yourselves!" cried Sam Green, who had been keeping watch at a hole near the roof, looking eastward.

The words, uttered before any one had time to reload, had a magic effect. One of the outlaws, springing on one side to ascertain whether the announcement was true, shouted out the fact to his comrades. Down the hill they rushed, as fast as their legs could carry them. Their bullets had either pa.s.sed over the hut or had lodged in the thick planking which formed the sides, without injuring any of those within.

The sound of the shots, however, made the police put spurs to their horses' sides, and they came galloping up as the last of the outlaws disappeared across the river. Their steeds were pretty well knocked up with their long and rapid journey, but Lieutenant Graham, the officer in command, was most anxious to catch some of the men. "We will join you!"

cried Craven, running out. Their horses were found in a gra.s.sy nook to the left. Craven, with his friend Richards, and Arthur Gilpin, and ten of the police, led by their officer, joined in the pursuit. Before long they came in sight of the outlaws, scattered far and wide over the country, each man endeavouring to make his escape by himself. Most of them had thrown away the boughs and the skins with which they had been covered. Three men kept closer together than did the rest. Craven, who thought he recognised them by their figures as stockmen belonging to the station, recommended that they should be followed. The men soon discovered that they especially were pursued. When they saw that all chance of escape was gone, they turned round and stood at bay; but as the troopers advanced with drawn sabres, they threw down their arms and cried out for quarter. Their lives were of course spared, but their hands being lashed behind them, they were conducted back to the hut.

Another man was caught, but the rest were allowed to escape. "We can always get any we require," observed one of the police. The prisoners were the men Craven supposed. He himself was the chief cause of their being taken. Except that his dress was rough, as usual, his whole manner was changed as he galloped across the field. Graham looked at him more than once with astonishment.

They were all once more collected in the hut, doing justice to the fare Sam 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 never heard of your coming."

"Nor did I know of your being here. However, we will not lose sight of each other again," said the lieutenant.

As scarcely any of the stockmen or hut-keepers could be trusted, the Gilpins begged that some of the police might remain, while they went round to drive in and concentrate the herds of cattle and the flocks of sheep, now probably without keepers, and subject to the depredations of the outlaws. It was very hard work; but, with the help of Craven, a few of the better-disposed men, who were found at their huts (having probably returned there after the ill-success of their expedition), were selected, and the task was accomplished. Fresh hands were sent for.

Craven was appointed overseer, with his friend under him. Graham set off with his prisoners for headquarters, Norfolk Island being, without doubt, their ultimate destination. No tidings could be gained of Basham. He was probably hid away in the mountains, but it was not likely that he would make any further attempts on the station. The disorderly servants were dismissed, fresh ones arrived, and for some time the affairs entrusted to the young settlers went on quietly and prosperously.

CHAPTER FIVE.

The Gilpins found Craven a great addition to their social circle in their remote station. They, more than ever, required support and a.s.sistance, for depressing news began to reach them from Sydney. The financial affairs of the colony had for some time past been in an unsatisfactory state. Money for paying the men was often considerably in arrear; and stores and provisions were sent up only in small quant.i.ties and of an inferior quality. At length, a letter arrived from the agent, directing them to send produce to Sydney, to meet certain heavy liabilities. As wool was not forthcoming, they were to boil down both cattle and sheep, to dismiss a large number of the men, and to practise the most rigid economy. The requisite boilers and casks for the tallow soon afterwards arrived. It was most disagreeable and painful work. Flock after flock of sheep were driven in and slaughtered; the carcases were put into the cauldrons, the fat was packed in the casks, and the hides roughly dried; while the meat, which might have fed thousands of the starving poor in the old country, was allowed, of necessity, to rot uselessly on the ground. Theirs was no solitary instance of the consequence of want of capital to carry on business, for such was the condition to which the greater number of squatters throughout the colony were reduced. Fortunately, tallow and hides were in demand, and realised high prices, and thus many of the settlers were soon able to get out of their difficulties, though left with sadly diminished flocks and herds. The Gilpins and their overseer, Craven, spared no exertion to save, as far as possible, the loss of property. One day Arthur had gone in search of some cattle, which had strayed among the range of mountains to the west. After looking for them in vain, he was returning, annoyed and out of spirits, when he observed a stream issuing from the side of a hill, with the banks on either side encrusted with a glittering white substance. He tasted it, and found it perfectly salt. Collecting a pocketful, he returned home with his spirits completely revived. All the party were of opinion that it was a salt spring; that others would be found in the neighbourhood; and that salt could be manufactured with which the meat, which was now lost, might be preserved either for sale or for future consumption. The next morning they eagerly set out for the spot. They were not disappointed. Other springs were found. By evaporation alone, a small supply could be procured; and with some simple apparatus they hoped to produce as much as they would require. A cauldron and some pans were sent up, and after a few experiments they succeeded to their satisfaction; and they were able to send into Sydney, with the next dray-load of tallow, a cask of salted hams and tongues.

About this time, they received a letter from their first friend in the colony, Mr Prentiss, saying that the losses of his family had been so great, and that his father had so taken it to heart, that he was completely prostrate, and not likely to survive. He had, therefore, himself come up to take the management of affairs, accompanied by his children. He requested James to come and pay him a visit without delay.

Leaving Arthur and Craven in charge, he at once set off. He rode alone, though he would probably have to camp out one or two nights.

There were stations on the road, but they were at inconvenient distances; and unless compelled by bad weather, he did not purpose stopping at them. He had a gun as a protection; but he had no fear of bushrangers. They were now seldom heard of in the colony. From wild beasts to be dreaded by a traveller, Australia is, happily, free. He was not likely to meet any blacks inclined to be unfriendly.

Occasionally the natives murdered hut-keepers and stockmen, but in most instances they had been provoked to do so by ill-treatment. With saddle-bags and holsters well filled, a blanket, a tin kettle and pot, strapped to the saddle before him, he set forth on his journey. There is an elasticity in the atmosphere and a freedom from restraint which makes travelling on horseback in Australia most delightful. James Gilpin enjoyed it to the full. He also found it good to be alone occasionally, to commune with his heart; and this journey gave him ample opportunity of being so. The first day pa.s.sed over pleasantly. He had arranged to spend the evening with an acquaintance on the road. As his own shadow and that of his steed were lengthened out on the gra.s.s, the smoke of his friend's hut, curling up among the gum trees, appeared before him. He called out as he rode up to the door, but no voice answered; the distant sound, however, of tinkling sheep bells told him that the flock of the station was being driven into a pen for the night, where the new-born lambs could be better protected from the dingoes and hawks, their chief enemies, than if left on the open. Unsaddling and turning his horse into a paddock near at hand, he entered the hut. The kettle was hissing on the fire, and the damper was baking under it.

There were signs that the hut was the residence of a gentleman (though all was in the rough), and evidently that of a bachelor. Every spot on the walls was covered with shooting and fis.h.i.+ng gear, sporting prints, and some of a better description; and there was a book-case, with thoroughly used volumes, and coats and hats hung up, and shelves loaded with all sorts of articles, and chests below, and casks, one with flour ready open; the corners also were crowded. There was a bed-chamber boarded off for the owner, a refinement not very often indulged in, and a bunk at one end of the general room, for the hut-keeper. The cheery voice of the proprietor addressing his dogs announced his return. He warmly greeted his neighbour (their abodes were only forty miles apart); and tea, damper, cold beef, and pork were speedily on the table.

The two settlers were merry and contented, in spite of misfortunes.

Johnstone had also been compelled to boil down.

"Now is the time for a fellow with five or six hundred pounds to lay the foundation of a fortune," he observed; "both cattle and sheep can be bought at a mere nominal price. I must sell or boil down still more of mine; but I see my way clearly out of my difficulties, and keep up my spirits."

The hint was not lost upon James. He had been unwilling to take any of his employers' cattle, lest it might throw him open to suspicion; but he now resolved to offer to purchase some, and, at all events, to take all that Mr Johnstone might wish to sell. Local subjects were of course discussed.

"By-the-by," observed Mr Johnstone, "we were surprised some days ago at seeing a white man lurking about here, dressed in skins and rags. The people thought he must be mad; for whenever they approached him, he ran off howling into the bush. I ordered some food to be placed for him at a spot where we could watch him. He saw us, and would not approach; but after watching for some time we went away, and he then must have darted out from his concealment and carried off the food, for when we returned it was gone. From that day he disappeared, and whether he has been drowned in some river or water-hole, or has been starved in the bush, I cannot say."

James Gilpin started at an early hour the next morning, intending to make a long day's journey, and to camp out, as he must in that case do.

His horse, a peculiarly fine and strong one, bore him well through the early part of the day. In the afternoon he entered a forest, extending on either side to a considerable distance. The track through it was less defined than usual, still, by constant reference to his compa.s.s, when he had any doubts, he had no fear about making a mistake.

He had ridden on for some distance, when he observed that the sky was overcast, and the wind began to moan among the trees. Suddenly, with a spring which would have thrown a worse rider, his horse started at a vivid flash of lightning which darted from the sky, struck a huge tree near him, tearing off a large limb, and then ran hissing along the ground. A crash of thunder, such as he had really heard, followed, and he found it impossible to prevent his affrighted steed from setting off at full gallop among the trees. It was with the greatest difficulty that he could guide the animal, so as to save his legs from being dashed against the trunks and his head against the branches. Crash succeeded crash in rapid succession, and at times so vivid was the lightning that the forest seemed one blaze of fire. In vain he searched for an open s.p.a.ce where he might, at all events, be free from the danger of being crushed by falling branches. Now he thought he saw an opening on one side, now on the other; but each time he was disappointed. He discovered, however, that he had got out of the track, and when he began to consider in which direction he should go, he was under the somewhat painful feeling that he had lost his way. He put his hand in his pocket to examine his compa.s.s; it was not there. Again and again he searched for it; nowhere was it to be found. It had undoubtedly been jerked out of his pocket during some of the violent springs his steed had made when frightened by the lightning. He had not the remotest hope of finding it on the ground, and would therefore not waste time in looking for it.

Just as he had made this disagreeable discovery, the fury of the storm abated, and he was in hopes that it was about to cease altogether. He rode forward, he believed, towards the east. If he could get out of the wood he might still reach a station before dark, considerably short of the distance he hoped to have made good that day. On he went, his horse starting and trembling, not having yet recovered from its fright. The rain was falling in torrents, and he was already wet through--no uncommon occurrence, however, for a squatter, who is in the saddle many hours every day of the year. Down it came, harder than ever. Another vivid flash, followed by a terrific clap of thunder, made his horse again start forward. He galloped on till an open s.p.a.ce was reached; here, at all events, he might be secure from falling branches, though not from the lightning, which was darting in every direction.

He had almost lost hope of getting out of the wood that night. Wet as he was, he must camp out on the bare ground. He was searching for a spot where he might dismount and tether his horse, when again the animal started; this time, however, it was not at a flash of lightning. James looked round, when, about a dozen yards from him, he saw, as if endeavouring to conceal himself behind the gnarled stem of an aged gum tree of gigantic proportions, the very figure Johnstone had described to him the previous evening. At first he thought that his imagination must have deceived him; the light was uncertain, and his eyes had been dazzled by the lightning. Still, he could not be mistaken: there was the human face, the glaring eyeb.a.l.l.s, the matted hair and beard, and the dress of skins and rags. The figure moved its arms and made threatening gestures at him. "I must know whether this is reality or imagination,"