The Adventures of Don Lavington - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"You're right enough, boy. Stop six months--a year altogether--and I shall be very glad of your help."
This set Don at rest, and he brightened up wonderfully, making great strides during the next fortnight, and feeling almost himself, till, one evening as he was returning from where he had been helping Jem and Ngati cut up wood for fencing, he fancied he saw some animal creeping through the ferns. A minute's watching convinced him that this was a fact, but he could not make out what it was. Soon after, as they were seated at their evening meal, he mentioned what he had seen.
"One of the sheep got loose," said Gordon.
"No, it was not a sheep."
"Well, what could it have been? There are no animals here, hardly, except the pigs which have run wild."
"It looked as big as a sheep, but it was not a pig," said Don thoughtfully. "Could it have been a man going on all fours?"
"Hullo! What's the matter?" cried Gordon looking up sharply, as one of his two neighbours came to the door with his wife.
"Well, I doan't know," said the settler. "My wife says she is sure she saw a savage creeping along through the bush behind our place."
"There!" said Don excitedly.
"Here's t'others coming," said Jem.
For at that moment the other settler, whose log-house was a hundred yards below, came up at a trot, gun in hand, in company with his wife and sister.
"Here, look sharp, Gordon," he said; "there's a party out on a raid. We came up here, for we had better join hands."
"Of course," said Gordon. "Come in; but I think you are frightening yourselves at shadows, and--"
He stopped short, for Jem Wimble dashed at the door and banged it to just as Ngati sprang to the corner of the big log kitchen and caught up a spear.
"Mike and them two beauties, Mas' Don!" cried Jem.
"Then it's war, is it?" said Gordon grimly, as he reconnoitred from the window. "Eight--ten--twelve--about thirty Maori savages, and three white ones. Hand round the guns, Don Lavington. You can shoot, can't you?"
"Yes, a little."
"That's right. Can we depend on Ngati? If we can't, he'd better go."
"I'll answer for him," said Don.
"All right!" said Gordon. "Look here, Ngati,"--he pointed out of the window and then tapped the spear--"bad pakehas, bad--bad, kill."
Ngati grunted, and his eyes flashed.
"Kill pakehas--bad pakehas," he said in a deep, fierce voice. "Kill!"
Then tapping the Englishmen one by one on the shoulder, "Pakeha good,"
he said smiling, and then taking Don by the arm, "My pakeha," he added.
"That's all right, sir," said Jem; "he understands."
"Now then, quick! Make everything fast. We can keep them out so long as they don't try fire. And look here, I hate bloodshed, neighbours, but those convict scoundrels have raised these poor savages up against us for the sake of plunder. Recollect, we are fighting for our homes-- to defend the women."
A low, angry murmur arose as the guns were quickly examined, ammunition placed ready, and the rough, strong door barricaded with boxes and tubs, the women being sent up a rough ladder through a trap-door to huddle together in the roof, where they would be in safety.
"So long as they don't set us afire, Mas' Don," whispered Jem.
"What's that?" said Gordon sharply.
"Jem fears fire," said Don.
"So do I, my lad, so we must keep them at a distance; and if they do fire us run all together to the next house, and defend that."
Fortunately for the defenders of the place there were but three windows, and they were small, and made good loop-holes from which to fire when the enemy came on. The settlers defended the front of the house, and Don, Jem and Ngati were sent to the back, greatly to Jem's disappointment.
"We sha'n't see any of the fun, Mas' Don," he whispered, and then remained silent, for a shout arose, and they recognised the voice as that of Mike Bannock.
"Now then you," he shouted, "open the door, and give in quietly. If you do, you sha'n't be hurt. If you make a fight of it, no one will be left alive."
"Look here!" shouted back Gordon; "I warn you all that the first man who comes a step farther may lose his life. Go on about your business before help comes and you are caught."
"No help for a hundred miles, matey," said the savage-looking convict; "so give in. We want all you've got there, and what's more, we mean to have it. Will you surrender?"
For answer Gordon thrust out his gun-barrel, and the convicts drew back a few yards, and conversed together before disappearing with their savage followers into the bush.
"Have we scared them off?" said Gordon to one of the settlers, after ten minutes had pa.s.sed without a sign.
"I don't know," said the other. "I can't help thinking--"
"Look out, Mas' Don!"
_Bang_! _bang_!
Two reports from muskets at the back of the house, where the attacking party had suddenly shown themselves, thinking it the weakest part; and after the two shots about a dozen Maoris dashed at the little window, and tried to get in, forcing their spears through to keep the defenders at a distance; and had not Ngati's spear played its part, darting swiftly about like the sting of some monster, the lithe, active fellows would, soon have forced their way in.
Directly after, the fight began at the front, the firing growing hot, and not without effect, for one of the settlers went down with a musket bullet in his shoulder, and soon after Gordon stood back, holding his arm for Don to bind it up with a strip off a towel.
"Only a spear p.r.i.c.k," he said coolly, as he took aim with his gun directly after; and for about an hour the fight raged fiercely, with wounds given and taken, but no material advantage on either side.
"Be careful and make every shot tell," said Gordon, as it was rapidly growing dark; then backing to the inner door as he reloaded, he spoke for a few seconds to Don.
"We shall beat them off, sir," said Don cheerily.
"Yes, I hope so, my lad," said the settler calmly. "You see you are of great use."
"No, sir; it's all my fault," replied Don.
"Mas' Don," whispered Jem, as Don returned, "look out of the window; mind the spears; then tell me what you see."
"Fire!" said Don after a momentary examination.
He was quite right. A fire had been lit in the forest at the back, and ten minutes after, as Mike Bannock's voice could be heard cheering them, the Maoris came on, hurling burning branches on to the roof of the little log-house.