The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 141

"Six," Kala answered, holding up one of his fingers.

"Bushrangers?" our host continued.

At this question the two natives seemed puzzled, and they looked at each other as though wondering what answer they should return.

"Two of them were not men," at length the native said.

"Boys?" suggested Mr. Wright.

The faintest shadow of a smile stole over their faces as Kala replied,--

"No boys. Wear things like s.h.i.+rt round legs, and funny hats on heads."

"Why, darn it, the rascals mean women," cried our host, with some energy and considerable relief.

"Yes," was the prompt reply of Kala.

"They won't hurt you, man, unless they happen to fall in love with your black skin and marry you. Then I'd not be responsible for your head."

"Men have long guns, and little guns in belts," continued Kala.

"Pooh!" said Mr. Wright, turning to us and refilling our gla.s.ses, "the poor fellows have got frightened at their shadows. They have seen a small party of miners on their way to Ballarat, and it's probable that they have missed the direct road and got on one of the numerous trails which sometimes puzzle the best stockmen. They will find their way out after a fas.h.i.+on, although this is rather a hard night for exposing females. You can go," he said, addressing the two natives, but the men still lingered as though not satisfied with their visit.

"Miners no kill children," Kala exclaimed, briefly.

"How? Who has killed children?" demanded Mr. Wright, setting his gla.s.s upon the table, its contents untouched.

Mr. Brown p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and listened, for he had a slight knowledge, of the aboriginal language, and understood a portion of the conversation.

"Men take child and throw against a tree. No cry more," Kala said.

"The brutes!" muttered Mr. Wright, struck with consternation at the atrocity of the deed.

"Four men, two women," continued Kala, holding up his fingers for us to count. "All come this way, and seem in a hurry. Women cry, and men swear; men make them ride on horses to go fast."

"This is news indeed," Mr. Wright said, turning to us, "and I hardly know what to make of it. Can you solve the riddle?" addressing Mr.

Brown.

"It is plain," my friend rejoined. "A party of miners have been attacked by the bushrangers, and the latter are now endeavoring to escape with two women prisoners. The fellows probably belong to Tyrell's gang, and will make towards Mount Tarrengower to join him."

The solution seemed probable, and for a few moments there was a profound silence. The natives glanced from face to face as though endeavoring to read the thoughts of the white men, although they did not appear much distressed at the events which they had related.

"I pity the poor women," remarked Mr. Wright, at length. "Their fate will be a sad one, and death a welcome release from their sufferings."

"Can't you make an effort for their release?" I asked, but our host shook his head.

"The night is dark and stormy," he said, "and it's impossible to tell where the party, is at the present time. To-morrow we may be able to do something."

"To-morrow will be too late," replied Mr. Brown. "The rogues by that time will have joined the main body of the gang, and will laugh at our efforts to dislodge them from their rendezvous on the mountains."

Still our host did not seem impressed with the idea that we could afford the unfortunate females relief, although I judged that his disposition to do so was strong.

"Ask Kala if he thinks that he can find the fellow's trail to-night, and promise him from me a pound of tobacco and a bottle of rum if he succeeds," Mr. Brown said, addressing Mr. Wright.

The message was conveyed to the natives, and Kala's eyes sparkled at the idea of gaining the promised luxuries, but Iala did not seem so enthusiastic, owing to his name not being mentioned in connection with the presents.

"Tell Iala from me," I exclaimed, "that he, too, shall have a pound of tobacco and a bottle of rum like his brother if he succeeds."

The look of displeasure disappeared from the dark face of the native as he heard the offer, and he displayed his sharp, white teeth in token of approval.

"The men go by the old trail through the forest. They will not trust the new road leading to the house for fear of meeting our people. The trail is much longer, but safer. After they get through the woods they will have to cross a mud creek. The horses will refuse to enter the water, and considerable time will elapse before they can be got across. If we can meet them at the creek there is no escape for them."

Such were the expressions of Kala, uttered slow and distinct, as though he was weighing each word, and knew the importance of good counsel. We had not much time to consider the matter, for the native informed us that he and his brother had run with all their speed to the house, after once making sure that the bushrangers intended to take the trail instead of the road.

"Well, gentlemen, what is your opinion on the subject? Shall we sally forth, like knights-errant of old, and rescue the women from the clutches of the devils, or shall we sit here and finish our punch, and then go to bed? I am ready to hear a few words on both sides of the question, but no long arguments."

Our host meant work; I could see that by his flas.h.i.+ng gray eyes.

"Can't we drink the punch after we return?" asked Mr. Brown.

"Ay, and as much more as you wish," promptly responded our host, rising from the table, an example that we were not slow to follow.

Jackson, who had remained waiting in the room during the interview, now stepped forward, as though aware that his services would be required by his master.

"Bring me my pistols, and oil-cloth coat and cap, and be in a hurry,"

were the only commands that Mr. Wright issued, and Jackson, who knew the man's impulses, did not delay an instant in executing the order, and with the articles named he brought coats and water-proof hats for us, while to our surprise, he placed upon the table the revolvers belonging to Mr. Brown and myself, cleaned, oiled, and loaded.

"I supposed that you would want them in good condition when you left the farm, so while you were at supper I took the liberty of attending to them," Jackson said, in an apologetic tone, as though fearful that he had exceeded instructions.

"You are deserving of a pardon, and hang me if I don't get you one before six months are pa.s.sed," cried my friend, enthusiastically, after a slight examination of his weapon, which showed him that it was loaded correctly and capped with great nicety.

The poor fellow started with surprise, and his face flushed with agitation. I saw him turn away, as though ashamed to display his weakness.

"There is no such joyful news for me, sir," he said, at length, in as firm a voice as he could command.

"Don't you believe that story," cried Mr. Brown, heartily. "Plenty of men have received pardons, and they didn't deserve them as much as you.

My word for that."

"Bushrangers get there before us," muttered the natives.

"Kala is right. We must be under way, or the fellows will slip through our fingers. One drink all round, and here's success to our expedition."

While I was fitting my head gear the door opened, and in walked Day, his eyes glistening as though he had drank a cup too much of Mr. Wright's strong water.

"No, you don't," he said, surveying us from head to foot; "if you think that you can get off without the best ghost that the country can produce you are mistaken. You can count me in." "Then hurry and get ready," I exclaimed, "for we have not a moment to lose."

"Ready?" asked the shepherd, "ain't I all reedy as I am? I don't want your ile-skins to keep off a little wet. I'm used to it. Lead the way, blackies, and I'll keep close to your heels."