A Chase over the Mountains.—The Frightful End of the Bush-ranger.—Ruth's Opinion.—The Cereopsis.—A Description of the Colony.—The Dingo.—The Cattle at Home.—The Park.—The Arrival at Daisy Grange.
They had not time to consider what steps to take, when Wilkins cried out, "Yon's the rogue;" and they caught a glimpse of the painted figure of the fugitive among the trees, at a height which seemed almost impossible to reach, for they all considered this precipitous rock inaccessible.
"We must not let the villain escape us," cried Jack, "or he will be sure to lead more poor wretches astray. Some of you follow me." And, without further delay, he caught hold of the branches of the lowest tree, and swung himself up, grasping the overhanging boughs, and forcing his way through the entangled bushes with toil and danger, while Ruth continued to cry out like a distracted creature.
It was strange, that in this dilemma the usual cool presence of mind of the fearless and determined ruffian seemed to forsake him. If he had sought the labyrinthine passages of the widely-spread mountain, he might easily have bewildered his pursuers; but he continually exposed himself to observation through the trees on the mountain-side.
Wilkins and one of the herdsmen of Mr. Deverell soon followed Jack, their whole mind bent on capturing this treacherous and sanguinary villain. Behind them, urged by curiosity, anxiety for her brother, and detestation of Black Peter, the excited girl Ruth, notwithstanding the efforts of her friends, plunged through the bushes to follow them, shouting wildly to her brother when she caught glimpses of the spectral figure of the convict, with the red lines painted on his body.
Onward up that tedious ascent the practised bush-ranger proceeded, not even pausing for breath; and his half-exhausted pursuers began to fear he would escape them; but, after half an hour's struggle, a light gleamed through the trees. They believed they were coming to a more open space, when, rather than allow the convict to escape, the men resolved to use their guns. The next minute they emerged from the wood, and the whole party shrunk back, astonished at the magnificent scene that lay before them. A few feet from the wood a vast abyss opened. The eye could not penetrate its depths: it appeared fathomless and dark, for on all sides it was bounded by the perpendicular cliff which descended from the verge of the forest.
For a moment only could the dizzy sight regard that terrific descent, from which only three feet of solid earth separated them; and they clung to the trees, as they looked round to search for the fugitive. To their great horror, they beheld the desperate man, making his way along the narrow hem of earth, supported by a spear he had caught up on one hand, and holding by the trees on the other, and apparently seeking for a convenient spot where he might again descend into the wood. He stopped and turned round, and observing his pursuers, who feared even to use their guns in such a perilous position, the vindictive wretch poised and flung the spear. But before it had even reached its destination, a yell of mortal terror was heard; the shelf of rock on which he stood, gave way under the impetuosity of his movement; and the doomed wretch was hurled into that vast space, beyond the reach of human eyes, his shrieks of horror growing fainter as he sank into death. While at the same time, from the tree which he had grasped, and which shook as he fell, rose a flight of black cockatoos, mocking with their loud strange cries his fearful fate.
"Lord have mercy on him!" exclaimed Jack, covering his face, and struck with awe.
"It's a judgment, man," said Wilkins. "Just see how this poor fellow is bleeding with the rogue's last will and deed."
The spear of Peter had entered the breast of the herdsman, who was bleeding profusely. Wilkins drew out the weapon, and Jack, seeing Ruth at his side, who had succeeded in reaching him in time to see the catastrophe, despatched her in haste to the encampment, to send aid for the wounded man.
Fearful of looking any longer at that dark and terrible grave of the sinful wretch, the girl tumbled down through the steep wood, and rushing up to Mr. Mayburn and Margaret, said, "He's carried off alive! Them bad spirits,—them! them!—have flown away with Black Peter;" and the distracted girl positively shrieked as she pointed to a pair of harmless black cockatoos perched on a fig-tree, which were curiously peering down on the strange creatures below; and most assuredly the coal-black plumage, lofty crest, and fan tail, striped with bars of fiery scarlet, gave to the birds an unearthly and fiend-like appearance.
"Can anybody extract sense from the exclamations of this wild girl?" asked Mr. Mayburn, much distressed. "Ascertain, Margaret, how the wretched man has escaped."
"I tell ye," continued Ruth, with decision, "I seed them black creaters, wi' my own eyes, take him up, and flee away wi' him, down into a black pit; and poor Tom Atkinson's hit wi' a spear, and ye're to clamber up t' wood to doctor him."
On the whole, the deduction drawn from Ruth's incoherent narrative was, that the presence of some of the party was needed; and Mr. Deverell and Mr. Mayburn, supplied with cold water and linen bandages, set out to climb through the wood, on the beaten track of the pursued and the pursuers; but before they had half ascended, they met with Wilkins and Jack, bearing the wounded man with difficulty through the matted and steep wood. When they were relieved by additional assistance, they soon reached the glen, and satisfied the anxiety of the perplexed family by a correct recital of the awful fate of the villanous bush-ranger.
"It's just what might have come to me, and I'd been but reet sarved," said Wilkins, "if it hadn't been for ye all. I reckon it pleased God to send ye, just o' purpose to bring round a good-to-naught chap, as not a soul else would notish, or hauld out a finger to save. Poor reprobate! Ye ken a deal of things, Miss Marget; can ye say what Peter was seeing afore him, when he yelled out, fleeing down into that black hole?"
"God be merciful to the sinner!" said Margaret. "It is not for us, Wilkins, to speak of that which God hides from us; but rather to prepare, that we may be ready for a sudden call to judgment."
It was not long before the police returned with the fugitive, whom they had overtaken and captured. He was now secured with the other two rangers, and Peter being disposed of, there was nothing to prevent the police from proceeding with their prisoners to Sydney; and the guards and captives set out on their long journey, leaving the united party very thankful for their separation from the wretched delinquents. The next morning, after praying for a blessing on their expedition, the happy friends set forward cheerfully, now safely guided by Edward Deverell, and hoping, before long, to reach the long-desired haven of peace and rest.
But many a day of toil and anxiety still succeeded: the privations of the barren and dry desert, the perils of rude mountain-passes, and the fording deep and foaming rivers, besides the subtle and vindictive pursuit of various unfriendly tribes of natives. At length they attained in safety the fertile banks of a broad and rapid river, which Mr. Deverell and his followers greeted with shouts of joy.
"My good Mr. Mayburn," said Edward Deverell, "I call on you now to offer up a thanksgiving to Him who has led us in safety through the wilderness. This river is our guide and highway; it flows on to our own much-loved home; it is the blessing and ornament, dear Margaret, of Daisy Grange."
All joined with Christian earnestness in a thanksgiving for the mercies which even the lately awakened and reformed criminals could appreciate and understand; and Edward Deverell rejoiced to see that the two convicts, Wilkins and Davy, would not be a dangerous addition to his little Christian community.
"Now, my dear friends," said Edward Deverell, "we may trust that our progress may be unimpeded. This fertile soil, watered by the river, will restore our enfeebled cattle; then we shall have milk with our flour cakes, which, prepared by the skilful hand of Jenny, disdain fellowship with the heavy 'damper' of the Australian traveller. If this abundant food does not satisfy us, the trees will give us birds, and the river fish, to diversify our diet. Ought we not to rejoice?"
"If you please, Mr. Deverell," said Jenny, "yon's a bonnie flock of geese; couldn't ye get us one for a roast?"
"We must have more than one for our large party, Jenny," said Deverell, laughing. "Come, boys, let us have a shot at Jenny's geese, and secure one specially for Mr. Mayburn's new museum."
Delighted with the prospect of sport, the boys were soon ready, and returned from the banks of the river with two pair of these large birds. Edward Deverell held out one of them to Jenny, saying, "Now, my good woman, can you tell me what this fowl is?"
"A gray goose, Mr. Deverell, sure enough," answered Jenny. Then regarding it closely, she added, "but it has a queer short neb, sir; it's like all things in this country, it's just unnat'ral."
"Nurse, it is no more a goose than you are," said Hugh; "it is rara avis, papa, that is,—a bird of Australia."
"I recognize it with delight," said Mr. Mayburn, "from the description of Latham and later ornithologists, who class it as a new genus; and from the curious cere which envelopes the base of the bill, he names it Cereopsis. Still it belongs to the swimming birds, though the legs are naked above the joint, and the membrane between the toes does not form the web foot. It is, therefore, less fitted for the water than the goose or swan, and is more strictly a wader, living, not on fish, but vegetable food. In fact, it is a much handsomer bird than the goose, and I would gladly preserve it, if I had the means."
"You will have means and opportunity at the Deverell station, my dear Mr. Mayburn," said Edward. "My brother Charles will supply the means, and assist you to form a museum; and Emma has domesticated a flock of these birds, which in common parlance are known as the short-billed geese; and I can assure you the flesh is most delicate, very unlike that of the common water-fowls which live on fish."
"I rejoice much, Edward Deverell," said Mr. Mayburn, "that you concur with me in admiring the works of nature,—a taste which I have endeavored to implant in my children. I remember the words of a clever writer. 'To look on the creation with an eye of interest and feeling, must be ever acceptable to the Creator. To trace out the several properties of his works, and to study with diligence and humility their laws, their uses, and operations, is an employment worthy the immortal mind of man; since it is one of those studies which we may reasonably hope will survive beyond the grave.'"
"How delighted I am that dear little Emmy is taking the first steps of study in ornithology, by setting up a poultry-yard," said Hugh. "We had many disputes about waste of time in such useless pursuits, in which I did not escape without much contumely for my bird lore. My generous retaliation shall be to improve her collection. I will get her the black swan, the talegalla, the apteryx...."
"And the emu and ornithorhynchus would look well in the poultry-yard, Hugh," said Gerald, laughing.
"That would be a great error, my dear boys," said Mr. Mayburn. "The habits of the ornithorhynchus are directly opposed to the domestic arrangements of the poultry-yard: it is not even a fowl; it is an unclassed animal, of burrowing and diving propensities, and would be a troublesome, if not a dangerous, inmate among domestic fowls."
"I will leave it to Hugh and Emma to arrange the foreigners as they may judge best," said Mr. Deverell; "but I know all our English fowls are furiously national, and would resent the introduction of strangers, even to bloodshed. Even the civil wars of the community tax the patience of Emma and her handmaid Susan greatly; and she has threatened to reduce their numbers, now become enormous."
"I can supply her with an assistant poultry-maid," said Margaret; "my poor Ruth is devotedly attached to fowls, and can manage them better than she can do any thing else in the world. Ruth, would you not like to be Mr. Deverell's poultry-woman?"
"I would like to be amang 'em, bonnie creaters!" answered Ruth, with great joy, "if you be there Miss Marget, and if they be cocks and hens; and if them black fellows will not run off wi' them."
"Our black neighbors are all tame, Ruth," answered Mr. Deverell. "We employ those who can be taught to work, clothe the women, and teach the children; and in times of scarcity or sickness, we feed and attend them. As far as their ignorant and dull nature will allow, we have reason to think that gratitude or policy would prevent them from injuring us or our property."
"But the bush-rangers," said Margaret; "are you not ever in fear of the crafty, vindictive bush-rangers?"
"During our journey," answered Mr. Deverell, "it is necessary that we should be watchful; but our black police have reduced the number of these vagabonds greatly, and our party is too formidable to be openly defied. We must necessarily pass, now and then, one of those infamous, lonely, road-side bush-taverns, as they are called, at which these villains are in the habit of congregating, that they may exchange their plunder for spirits and tobacco with the men at the station, who then forward the cattle to Sydney or to the gold-diggings. But our police-followers are well acquainted with these detestable stations, and are always prepared for any assault. Above all, dear Margaret, we have a precious charge, and think ourselves a band of brave fellows; every day diminishes our danger, for it brings us nearer to our own inhabited grounds, where the villains might venture to plunder secretly, but would certainly not dare to show themselves."
"But are your retainers spread about the estate?" said Hugh. "I thought you intended to build a town."
"I scarcely aim so high, Hugh," replied Deverell. "My stock-keepers are scattered over the cleared land in huts, to look after the cattle. I live in my castle, like a feudal lord, surrounded by my vassals, who have erected rude temporary huts. But if you will all agree to settle round me, we will really found a colony. I will make an application to purchase, instead of leasing, my immense tract of land. We will divide and cultivate it, which I never could do alone; and we will begin to build a handsome village, or perhaps two villages—one named Mayburn, and the other Deverell."
"Please, sir, have you plenty of timber?" asked Jack, roused at the prospect of work.
"You will see my woods and forests soon, Jack," answered Mr. Deverell. "Then I have inexhaustible quarries of stone in the mountains, and some good quarrymen and stonecutters on my establishment. We will have a regular English village, with a green for sports, and pleasant gardens to the cottages."
For a few days more they travelled pleasantly over the grassy turf; then they came on almost impenetrable brushwood; and as this formidable obstacle to their progress would require vigor to overcome it, they encamped to spend the night, and commence their fatigue with the morning light. But they found conversation and repose equally impossible, from the disturbance caused by the restless movements and incessant bellowing of the cattle, which struggled to escape from the pens in which their attendants had confined them. Hugh went up to them with some curiosity, to know what was the cause of this unusual excitement amongst the quiet creatures. The herdsmen were all grinning and rubbing their hands with great glee.
"Well, Patrick," said Deverell to one of the men, "what is the jest that you seem to enjoy so much?"
"It's the bastes, master," answered the man exultingly; "they know where they are, the craters! Don't they smell the smell of their own comrades, sinsible darlings! And it isn't the brush they'd mind if we were giving them lave to it. Isn't it a short cut they'd make to come at them as is of their own blood! True old Irish they are, and illegant bastes. Arrah, didn't them rogues see that when they came kidnapping? and didn't they choose them out, in regard that there were no bastes to be seen like them! Bad luck to the rappareens!"
"Can it be possible," asked Margaret, "that we are really so near to Daisy Grange that the animals scent it?"
"We are a long day's journey yet from Daisy Grange," answered Deverell; "but it is true that we are not far from the borders of my extensive estate. This formidable thorny brushwood forms, in fact, the boundary and defence on this side, neither easy nor desirable to penetrate. A very large portion of the interior of my land is not only uncultivated, but is even unknown to me. We take care, however, to have cattle-stations and hut-keepers round the boundaries, that our rights may be recognized and preserved; and doubtless these weary wanderers have been stolen from one of the border stations, and now scent with great satisfaction their old companions, and their old quiet, luxurious homes."
"Then I suppose we may conclude," said Gerald, "that if we understood the vaccine gamut, we should hear that big old red cow bellowing 'Home! sweet home!' And don't I wish we could join her, for I don't like the look of that ugly scrub we shall have to carry our horses through."
"Not altogether ugly," said Margaret; "look at this curious and interesting Banksia, with its stiff yellow robe; the white star-like blossoms of this shrub, which resembles our myrtle; and here is our old friend the tea-shrub."
"Which Jenny will have to relinquish now," said Deverell, "for the real tea of China, of which we have a goodly store. But, Jem, or some of you men over there, be pleased to fire a shot or two to chase away those intolerable noisy dingoes, which, doubtless, like the ogre, smell fresh meat, and would like to make a foray on our game."
"Let us shoot a dingo, Edward," said Hugh; "I should like to look at the fellow closely."
"It is scarcely consistent with humanity," answered Deverell, "to destroy an animal that can be of no use to us; but we have an excuse in the wolfish character of the dingo, which destroys our sheep in numbers, if not closely watched; and nothing affords my shepherds and herdsmen more gratification than to trap or shoot one of these marauders." Hugh had the gratification of shooting the dingo, or warragle, as Baldabella named it, and bringing it in for Arthur and his father to inspect. Margaret retired in disgust, the intolerable smell of the fierce-looking little animal was so offensive.
"From its destructive habits," said Mr. Mayburn, "I should have expected to see a larger animal; but of its wolfish ferocity there seems no doubt. It is remarkable that it is, unlike the land quadrupeds yet found in Australia, carnivorous, and not marsupial; thus confirming the theory that the race of dogs is to be found in every known region of the world. This dingo is a degraded representative of the noble animal, crafty, bloodthirsty, and untamable. I am satisfied with seeing this specimen, but I cannot admire the creature."
Before the first gleam of day, while the moon yet lighted up the heavens, the impatient travellers set out to cross the bush; and for more than two hours the long cavalcade wound with toil and difficulty through the tangled thorny bush. At length the lowing of other cattle than their own greeted their ears, and the fresher breeze that came over the cleared ground announced that they had passed the boundary, and were now actually entering the domain of Mr. Deverell. In a short time the mingled and familiar cries of the drovers and their charge roused the first stock-man in his hut, who rushed out in great joy to welcome the return of the expedition.
"Ay, ay, sir!" said the man, "I see they've picked out and made an end of the choicest of the stock; it's like their ways;" and he grumbled out his wishes that certain evil consequences might attend their unlawful feasts on his chosen favorites, and concluded by caressing those which had happily escaped being devoured by the robbers. He then proposed to send forward one of the shepherds to announce the good news; but the travellers, now relieved from the charge of the cattle, and having passed through the greatest difficulties of their journey, agreed to proceed forward without delay, and announce in their own persons the success of the expedition at head-quarters.
They crossed a vast tract of wild and beautiful forest ground, which was still uncleared, but at this season bright with rich flowers, and noisy with the birds that thronged the tall trees; and continued to ride forward till the heat of the noonday sun compelled them to rest two hours most reluctantly in a shady grove. Then, once more mounting, they rode forward to enter on a new region. Before them lay spread large, well-cultivated, fenced lands, stocked with sheep and cattle, and dotted here and there with the snug neat huts of the shepherds and stock-keepers; while the lowing and bleating of the animals, and the distant barking of dogs, and sound of English voices, were music to the charmed ears of the weary travellers. "His name be praised!" said Mr. Mayburn, reverently uncovering his head, "who has led us through the dry and barren wilderness to a land of plenty and peace."
The whole party were deeply affected at the first glimpse of home scenery and home sounds; but Deverell looked round with much anxiety till he caught sight of a respectable-looking man riding among the cattle at a distance, whom he hailed, and the man rode forward in haste, calling out, "Welcome home, master."
"Thanks, Harris; but tell me, is all well at the Grange?" asked Deverell.
"Charming, sir," answered he; "saw them all this morning. Old mistress quite brisk, asking after the lambs; and Miss, throng with her poultry, and telling me to look after some grain for them. And here comes Mr. Edward, sir, to answer for himself."
"Halloo! Charley," cried Edward, riding up to shake hands with his brother, "my good fellow, what have you been about, and what in the world has induced you to bring the prisoners with you?" and he looked with suspicion and annoyance at the large party of distressed and ragged followers, who had purposely turned away from him. At last Margaret looked round and smiled, and the delighted young fellow laughed with joy at seeing his old friends, and with amusement at their miserable condition.
"My dear Margaret! my good friends!" he exclaimed, "I am quite wild with surprise and pleasure. Never mind your ragged furbelows; little Emma is a capital needlewoman, and will sew up all those great rents."
"It will be a great blessing to me," said Margaret, laughing, "to see a needle again."
"A needle, Margaret!" exclaimed Charles, "we have millions of needles; Edward has a storehouse crammed with every thing that everybody can want, under every circumstance. He could supply a large English country town with goods; chests of needles, walls built up of paper, acres of that muslin stuff you wear, so suitable to the thorny bush. Ask for what you will, you can have it at Edward's grand bazaar."
"If you please, Mr. Charles," said Jack, "do you think Mr. Edward has any tools?"
"You have only to speak, Jack," answered he; "we can supply you with the appliances of the arts, from a steam-engine to a delicate lancet. I am a clever shopman, and shall be happy to do the honors of the bazaar."
"Indeed, Charles, you are a very troublesome and disorderly shopman," said his brother, "as my store-keeper declares, creating vast confusion among his neatly-arranged shelves. Allowing for some exaggeration, my dear friends, Charles has told you the fact. I found my poor people had to pay so extravagantly for the little luxuries and necessaries of life they required, either from the extortions of itinerant dealers, who are dangerous visitors to admit into a settlement, or from the expense of journeys to Sydney or Melbourne to make their purchases, that I resolved to supply them at moderate prices myself, which I am enabled to do by bringing wagon-loads of goods from Sydney, and furnishing a large storehouse which I had built for the purpose."
"But are you not afraid of the bush-rangers being attracted by your valuable storehouse?" asked Mr. Mayburn.
"I have a clever-managing store-keeper, who, with his assistant, sleeps in the place, where they have arms, two fierce dogs, and an alarm-bell loud enough to rouse the whole hamlet. Besides, our bush-rangers prefer highway robbery, or raids on the cattle, to the more dangerous attempts at house-breaking. You need fear no bush-rangers, my dear Mr. Mayburn, if you were once within the walls of my castle, where I trust to welcome you speedily. Now I wish you to look at the beautiful variety of timber trees which I have left standing as ornaments to my spacious park."
It was amongst these varied and extraordinary trees that the cavalcade were now passing. Several varieties of the Eucalyptus and the palm tribe, with their bare tall trunks and crested heads, were mingled with white or golden-blossomed acacias; the Hibiscus, peculiar to Australia; the drooping grass-tree; and one spreading fig-tree stood like a natural temple, with its pillar-like roots entwined with elegant creeping plants, with a grace beyond the reach of art. Beneath these trees the turf was resplendent with spring flowers, on which were quietly grazing flocks of white sheep, supplying the place of the aristocratic deer. As they issued from the woodland upon a grassy glade, sloping gently to the banks of the river, Charles rode forward to announce the glad tidings at Daisy Grange, which was now in sight on a pretty eminence, backed by higher hills, which stretched beyond into gray mountains. As they rode slowly forward on their worn-out horses, Mr. Mayburn was lost in admiration of the curious and happily-blended trees, and Edward Deverell said,—
"The names given by the colonists to these new and remarkable trees are puzzling and inapplicable. This tree, named by them the red cedar, is certainly not a cedar; though it is very useful, being our best timber tree, the wood resembling mahogany. The apple-tree bears no fruit, and has no claim whatever to the tantalizing name. The rose-wood, so called from its delicate perfume, is a kind of Meliaceæ, the fruit of which is uneatable. Then we have the cherry, Exocarpus, the fruit of which is useless, and peculiarly unlike the dear old cherry of England, with which, however, I trust to regale you in a few months. I can already discover the white blossoms of the tree peeping over my garden walls; and I propose that we give these tired horses to the men, and walk up the hill, that you may contemplate leisurely the imposing appearance of my baronial hall."
But however Edward Deverell might depreciate his mansion, the distressed wanderers regarded its appearance with admiration and delight as they passed over the sloping lawn, laid out with excellent taste in parterres of gay-colored flowers rising from the green turf, which was enamelled with the daisies of England; and saw the pretty house which offered them shelter after fifteen months of wandering.
The building, though entirely of wood, was picturesque and spacious. It was surrounded by a large garden, beyond which were raised the large storehouse; stables, and farm-buildings. Along the front of the house was a broad veranda, supported by columns, entwined with roses, honeysuckles, and the well-loved creeping flowers of England, now bursting into blossom; while the large portico was curtained with draperies of the rich flowering climbers of Australia—the convolvulus, the curious passion-flower, and other graceful unknown plants, to stimulate the curiosity of the botanists.
But it was not at this moment that all the beauties of the Grange were observed, for the hospitable doors stood open, and the agitated party were hurried into the cool and spacious hall, where Mrs. Deverell and her smiling daughter waited to welcome Edward and his unexpected companions.