The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 125

Mr. Brown appeared to entertain the same opinion, for he disengaged his feet from the stirrups, and threw himself from the animal, striking the water flat upon his stomach, and swimming, with quick strokes, towards the opposite bank, which he gained, and by aid of the branch of a gum tree, which overhung the brook, succeeded in swinging his light form upon solid earth.

The horse, relieved of the weight of his rider, seemed encouraged to renewed exertions, and after prodigious efforts, emerged from the quicksands, and uttered a neigh, as though rejoicing at his escape.

"You will have to go farther up," shouted Mr. Brown, shaking himself, and looking at his soiled clothes rather ruefully. "The bed of the brook is so quidling, that it won't bear the weight of a mosquito; and if you should commence sinking, the Lord only knows when you would stop, or where."

Not wis.h.i.+ng to test the truth of his a.s.sertion, I rode along the bank of the brook nearly a mile, until I found a place where the water was more than six inches deep, with a solid bed of gravel. At this spot I crossed without trouble, and then we continued our journey across the country, Mount Tarrengower looming up before us like a giant amid pigmies.

"Devilish narrow escape for me and the horse," Mr. Brown said, while walking our animals over some rough ground; "I thought at one time that we both would have to go under, and I began to think of a prayer or two.

I knew something would happen to us after talking about poor Buckerly in the manner that we did."

"Do you really think so?" I asked, hardly knowing whether he was quizzing me or was serious.

"Upon my word I am not jesting. I have too much superst.i.tion in my composition to think of spirits in any light, excepting that of the utmost respect; for why should not the dead revenge themselves upon the living if so disposed?"

"If that is your belief, how do you reconcile the fact of your having killed so many bushrangers, and yet escape their persecutions?" I inquired.

"Simply because the bad have not the power to injure the good."

I laughed so heartily at the explanation, that even my friend suffered his grim visage to relax a little.

"You may smile," he said, "but it's just as I tell you."

I saw that he was in earnest, so let the matter drop--but the conversation was afterwards renewed and discussed in all its lights and bearings, but still without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion.

It was near twelve o'clock when we reached the river, which was about three feet deep and forty wide. After hunting for some time we discovered the ford, and crossed without difficulty. We found ourselves in an immense grazing district, where ten thousand sheep could have been pastured without trouble or fear of their suffering for food.

The difficulty which we then experienced was to find the right path that was to lead us to the salt lick, but even that was overcome at length, and we galloped along the trail which we supposed that Bill meant, with bright antic.i.p.ations of a successful termination of our mission.

Suddenly Mr. Brown reined up, and called to me to stop a moment.

"If I am not mistaken," he said, pointing with his whip towards a cl.u.s.ter of gum tress and bushes that stood upon a small mound near our right, "I saw a human being dodge behind one of those trees, after watching us for a few minutes."

"Let us make an examination," I replied. "We want no spies upon our actions in this matter, and if we are to be followed, we had better find out what is wanted." I turned my horse's head as I spoke, and was riding in the direction indicated, when my friend stopped me.

"Don't be rash in this matter, for we don't know how many men are concealed in that clump of bushes, watching our movements. Let us ride on and stop when concealed by those trees in the distance. From that place we can watch movements in this quarter securely."

I considered Mr. Brown's advice the best, and we adopted it without further discussion. Once or twice I looked back, but I could see nothing that would excite suspicion, and I began to think that my friend's fears were groundless.

When once concealed, however, beneath the shadow of the trees we dismounted, and watched patiently--and were presently rewarded by seeing a man, armed with a long gun, steal quietly from the bushes which we had pa.s.sed, and make towards Mount Tarrengower as though in a hurry to reach some location without a moment's delay.

"It is no use to give chase," Mr. Brown said, seeing me make a movement towards my horse. "Even if we should bring the fellow to close quarters, one of us would have to bite the dust; for let me tell you a secret that may be of some value to you hereafter in case you are anxious for a fight. Every man in this country who carries a long gun is a good shot, and can hit his object with as much certainty as your famed Kentucky riflemen. So you can see that we should get no honor or profit by giving chase to yonder long-legged fellow, who, if I am not much mistaken, is better acquainted with this section of the country than ourselves. Let him go. He is probably a shepherd; been on a visit to a neighboring station, or else out on a tour of observation to look after bushrangers."

"How near are we to a station?" I asked, still following with my eyes the tall form of the stranger, who jumped from side to side with scarce an effort, and who did not appear to regard the heat any more than a salamander.

"As near as I can judge," my companion said, "we are still on the lands belonging to the Hawswood station, although I am not certain. Adjoining those lands is a station owned by a number of Melbourne merchants, and the stock-house should be off towards the mountain. At least, it was there three years ago, during the first and only time that I ever visited these parts."

"Here we are at last," Mr. Brown said, pointing to a small strip of land containing not more than a quarter of an acre, surrounded by those treacherous bogs which are familiar to all who ever visited the plains of Australia.

"That must be the spot indicated," he continued, surveying it with a keen eye, "yet I can see no means of reaching the island. The bog, which looks crusted over and hard, would not bear the weight of a lamb, much less that of a man; yet that is just such a spot as a shrewd bushranger would select for depositing his plunder, simply because no one would think of looking there for it."

"Let us dismount and stake out our animals, and then examine the spot at our leisure. If that is the place, we will find means for reaching it, even if we have to build a bridge, or buy a pontoon of India rubber."

My companion accepted the advice, and under the shadow of a cl.u.s.ter of stunted, gnarled trees, we removed the saddles, and then prepared our dinner, which we stood in some need of, having been without food from the time that we started in the morning, long before sunrise.

"I wish that a flock of sheep would stray this way," Mr. Brown said, while sc.r.a.ping some dried gra.s.s together for the purpose of making a fire, while I was occupied in undoing the pack which contained our provisions, as well as our tools and cooking utensils; "I feel like having a mutton chop for supper," he continued.

"Behold your wish," I replied, pointing to a flock of about a thousand sheep, led by a patriarch, whose horns proclaimed many hard-fought battles, just winding their way towards the salt lick from behind a small knoll that stood between us and Mount Tarrengower.

Mr. Brown coolly drew his revolver, and apparently calculated the distance.

"What do you intend to do?" I asked, seating myself on the pack, and watching his proceedings.

"Have a mutton chop for supper, if those animals come within pistol shot. Keep quiet, and don't alarm them, and you will see how delicate I will do the trick."

I was too hungry to make many objections, and therefore followed the advice of my friend. On came the flock, the old patriarch at their head, unsuspicious of danger, and thinking probably of the rich treat which he was about to confer upon his numerous harem, by allowing them to partake of a bit of salt gra.s.s at the close of the day.

We were so well concealed by the trunks of the trees, that the sheep, generally wild and suspicious of strangers, did not discover us until the old ram was within about two rods of our hiding place; then he suddenly stopped, and snuffed the air as though he smelled an enemy, and the flock, governed by his actions and motions, likewise halted and looked around, to discover the cause of the commotion.

For a few seconds all was quiet, with the exception of a number of bleating lambs in the rear, and just as the ram was once more elevating his head to scent the air, Mr. Brown fired. A fine fat ewe sprang into the air, and then rolled over and over in the agonies of death.

"A good shot!" cried Mr. Brown, but hardly were the words from his mouth when there was a rus.h.i.+ng sound, and before I could interfere, or raise my voice in warning, the old patriarch had charged past me. My comrade saw his danger, but disdained to use his revolver in such a quarrel, or even to fly. He probably thought that he could seize the ram by his horns, and arrest his career without a violent effort, but if such were his intentions he was bitterly disappointed, for the old patriarch possessed the strength and power of a dozen ordinary sheep, and possibly had battled with many bushrangers for the preservation of his flock from decimation.

On rushed the ram with the speed of a race horse. He pa.s.sed me without notice, his eyes glowing like coals of fire, and every muscle in his neck stretched for the encounter. His wives did not offer to fly, but stood watching the result of the old fellow's charge, evidently quite confident of the ultimate result.

When the ram was within three feet of my companion, he thought that it was about time to make good his retreat, seeing that his opponent was disposed to be in earnest.

Mr. Brown started back suddenly, and then turned to dodge behind a tree where he could have laughed his enemy to scorn. But unfortunately he was too late in making up his mind, and just as he turned, the ram struck him upon that portion of his body which presents the broadest basis, and in a twinkling over went my friend, as though shot from a mortar.

I could not, for the life of me, help laughing at the sight, and yet I was not disposed to interfere between them. It was a fair fight, and I wanted to see it out.

I will give the ram the credit of acting in a fair and manly manner, for after he had floored his opponent, he stood perfectly still until Mr.

Brown began to scramble up, and after he had gained his knees, the old fellow evidently labored under the impression that more work was cut for him. With a fierce stamp the ram retreated a few feet, and then rushed on like lightning. Mr. Brown was thrown headlong to the ground, and then he began to look upon the contest as one not to be despised. I heard the click of his revolver, and I knew that his thoughts were deadly, but I resolved to save the life of so gallant an opponent.

"Don't fire," I shouted; "it is a pity to kill the old fellow for defending his wives. How would you like it?"

"Call him off then, or d---- his long horns, I'll blow a hole through him large enough to take in a pack saddle," cried Mr. Brown, still maintaining his rec.u.mbent att.i.tude, as though no longer desirous of provoking a battle.

The task was not difficult. Indeed the ram had grown so inflated with victory that he was ready to pitch into every thing living, and I had only to show myself and manifest a hostile att.i.tude to accomplish my purpose. The very first motion that I made with my head attracted his attention. He turned from a fallen foe with disdain, and braced himself for a new conflict. I made a second motion with my head suggestive of b.u.t.ting, and on he came, but I was prepared for him. Springing nimbly aside, I let him strike the hard pack saddle with all his force, and the result did not disappoint me. The saddle yielded, and over and over went the ram, until he picked himself up about two rods from the spot where I stood awaiting a renewal of the attack with much patience.

I did not have to wait long. With a toss of his s.h.a.ggy head the old fellow took deliberate aim, and came towards me. I waited until he got under full headway, and then stepped behind a tree that my body had screened. The crash was terrible. The ram rebounded several paces, and rolled over and over, kicking violently, and when he did struggle to his feet he winked his eyes rapidly, as though afflicted with a headache of a violent nature. For a few minutes we stood looking at each other in silence, and then the old patriarch wagged his tail slowly, and moved towards his wives, with rather a crestfallen appearance.

CHAPTER LXVII.

THE HUNT FOR THE BURIED TREASURE.