Travellers' Wonders.—The Detective Force.—A Trap for the Rangers.—The Skirmish and the Victory.—Daisies in Australia.—The Constancy of Susan Raine.—The Trial and Sentence of the Natives.—Peter and his Colleagues.
Arthur was the narrator, and his long and wonderful story produced much sympathy and astonishment in his friendly hearer. At the earnest request of Margaret, the delinquent Davy was pardoned, and reinstalled in his office of stock-keeper; and Mr. Deverell promised to interest himself to obtain the emancipation of Wilkins.
"I must enlist you all to join my small force," said Edward Deverell; "for it is my intention to persevere in my attempt to recover my cattle and punish the robbers. My black allies are of opinion that the men who drove off the cattle will dispose of them to some of those unprincipled dealers who range the interior to pick up such bargains, and who can again sell them for large profits to the Macquarie gold-diggers, who make no inquiries how they were obtained. They must necessarily bring the cattle through the direct pass of these mountains, which is not quite so perplexing as that you had selected; and we are encamped here to watch for and intercept them. From your report, the party will be more numerous than we expected; but the hungry blacks who swell their train, in the hopes of receiving a share of the brandy and tobacco, are no heroes. I think, Hugh, we shall be able to give them a drubbing."
"As if there could be a doubt of it!" said Hugh, contemptuously. "We are all ready to enlist into the ranks, captain, I will engage to say—that is, with the exception of papa and the womankind; the chaplain to the regiment, and the Sisters of Charity who are to attend on the wounded."
"Most useful members of the army they will be," answered Deverell, "if we come to close quarters; for, greatly as I abhor warfare, I do not expect to settle this vexatious matter without bloodshed."
"If ye did, sir," said Wilkins, "ye'd be wrong; and, depend on't, ye'd soon have plenty more such-like customers. If a mad dog were to bite a man, and he let it run off, he'd be safe to bite other folks, and that's not fair. I say, knock him on t' head at first."
"The cases will hardly bear comparison, Wilkins," replied Mr. Mayburn; "and it has ever been a question among reasoning men whether the destitute ought to be subjected to capital punishment for seizing a share of the abundance of the prosperous."
"Robin Hood law!—rob the rich to feed the poor," cried Gerald. "Only think of papa encouraging bush-ranging!"
"My dear Mr. Mayburn, spare your compassion for these rogues," said Deverell, laughing. "These men are not destitute—they are worthless, idle vagabonds, and, according to the by-laws of squatters and settlers, they are amenable to justice. I shall certainly reclaim my own property, give the scoundrels a sound thrashing, and, if they show fight, we are prepared for actual service, and they must take the consequences."
It was long before the party were tired of conversation, and settled to take a secure night's rest; while the watchful police relieved each other, lest the rangers should pass during the night. In the morning they placed themselves in convenient posts on the mountains, where they could command all the approaches; but the day was somewhat advanced when notice was given that objects were seen approaching at a distance. Then the work of preparation actually began; along the heights of the pass were placed the rifle-rangers, as Hugh termed them, consisting of Arthur, Gerald, and himself, Mr. Deverell, and six of the police. Margaret and Mr. Mayburn, with the women, were left in perfect security in the little glen where the encampment was formed; and the rest of the party guarded the end of the pass, to secure any of the enemy who might succeed in reaching it.
"We conclude," said Mr. Deverell, "that the rangers, who doubtless are well acquainted with the pass, will drive the cattle on before them. Now we propose to secure these as they issue from this walled passage, and when they are all again in our possession, the stock-keepers must be ready to drive them off; while the rest of our troop must intercept and capture the drivers, to prevent pursuit. And now, Davy, I will test your fidelity again. Will you take up your whip and set off with our beasts to the station?"
"If ye'd not object, master," said Davy, humbly, "I'd as lief have a shot among 'em afore I set out, specially at that deep, black-hearted rogue Peter, as put an end to our Bill. I can't say, master, Bill didn't get far wrang; but Peter's out and out a worse chap, and it wasn't his place to kill a better fellow nor hisself."
"You will obey my orders, Davy," said his master, "and leave the punishment of Peter in our hands. I will take care he shall suffer for his misdeeds; and you will do your duty best by looking after your old four-footed friends. Have the rogues spared poor Lily, David? She was of a fine breed, Gerald, and I was deeply incensed at the rogues for selecting her to carry off."
"Bless ye, master, they count nought of breeds," answered Davy; "all they want is to kill plenty for beef, and to swop all they've left for spurrits and backy; Lily was to t' fore when I cut off from 'em, bonnie cretur, but she'll be hard up, if they've brought her this far. She always kenned me, master, and let me milk her; but she niver could bide them black fellows nigh hand her."
"Very good, Davy," answered Deverell. "Then your duty is to drive off Lily, and as many more beasts as you can manage, to this glen; and to remain here with Mr. Mayburn till we come up, as we hope, with our prisoners. Then we shall set out in good spirits on our long journey to Daisy Grange."
In a quarter of an hour all the arrangements were made, the brave defenders were all ready: by this time the procession was close to the mountains; the bush-rangers were driving the cattle before them, followed by Peter, with his black troop. He now appeared painted like his men with the peculiar insignia of war and defiance, his body being marked in red lines in the form of a skeleton, a decoration he had probably adopted to conciliate the natives.
The weary cattle were slowly urged into the narrow rock-bound path, one of the rangers heading them, to lead them along the right pass, the rest following them closely. The confined path rung with the lowing of the alarmed and reluctant cattle, forced onward cruelly by the spears of their drivers, whose wild and terrific oaths completed the discordant tumult. At length, when the cattle-leader emerged from the narrow part of the pass to a more open space, and had his face turned back to see that the line of animals was properly brought forward, he was easily seized, gagged, and bound by the dexterous police. Then, as the animals one after another appeared, they were driven off by the stock-keepers to the glen.
The rest of the party were prepared to capture the rangers as they followed the cattle; but the sudden cry of the leader, who had been seized, and which was easily distinguished amidst the clamor of the noisy cattle, was heard by Peter. The shrewd man at once comprehended the opposition that awaited them, and calling on his black fellows to wield their spears and follow him, he rushed on, with his men behind him, to the scene of conflict. The police on the heights allowed him and some of his black followers to proceed a little forward, and then fired a volley down into the midst of the blacks that were left behind, who, surprised and bewildered, and ever terrified at the effects of fire-arms, turned back tumultuously and fled. In vain the desperate Black Peter shouted to rally his followers, and fought desperately against the men at the end of the pass with the few supporters he had brought on. He and his troops were soon overpowered, and all captured and bound, with very little bloodshed.
"Huzza!" cried Gerald; "a glorious victory! Arthur, you must write the despatch; naming the superior force of the enemy, the cool and determined bravery of the little body of defenders, the desperate resistance of the furious bush-rangers, their complete discomfiture; and, finally, you must particularly mention the prudent, vigorous, and successful support of the young Lieutenant O'Brien, who is recommended for promotion."
"Margaret will consider us all heroes," said Hugh; "and we must hasten on as speedily as possible to allay her anxiety for us. But, Captain Deverell, whatever are we to do with these prisoners?"
"We are bound to convey or send the dangerous bush-rangers to Sydney," answered Deverell, "there to be dealt with according to law. As for the cowardly, treacherous, and ignorant natives, we must devise some punishment for them; but, if possible, we will not encumber ourselves with them, nor be obliged to feed them on our journey. For the present we must contrive to keep them in some place of security till the police return from their useless chase of the unhappy blacks who have fled."
"And who will, I hope, escape," said Arthur; "for they are but tools in the hands of these abandoned convicts, and are scarcely themselves responsible for their deeds of evil."
"See here," said Gerald; "this large cave would make a good jail, and we might build up the entrance."
"Then ye'll have to look about for a lot of caves, Master Gerald," said Wilkins, "and lodge 'em, as they say down t' country, on t' separate system, or we'se find all our birds flown to-morrow morning, I'll engage. Why, bless you, if that there Black Peter was shut up for a day wi' a new-born babby, he'd make 't a rogue for life. He'd make a parson into a bush-ranger, give him a bit of time; and my fancy is as how he's helped by that bad 'un as is his master; God save us!"
"There is no doubt, Wilkins," said Mr. Mayburn, "that the Great Spirit of Evil does readily and unfailingly stretch forth his hand to aid his wicked followers, and we should all join in your prayer, my good man. May God save us in the hour of temptation!"
Around the little hollow where the encampment was found, and where the young heroes were joyfully welcomed, were many small caves in the rocks, in which the prisoners, black and white, were separately enclosed. One of the stock-keepers had received a spear-wound in his arm; and one of the misguided natives was killed by a rifle-shot. These were all the casualties. When the police returned from the pursuit of the black fugitives, who had taken refuge in a thick wood, after many of them had been severely wounded, Mr. Deverell requested that all further pursuit should be relinquished, as the cattle were recovered and the ringleaders were now in confinement, which he knew would be a terrible punishment to them, even though it were only for one night.
Margaret and Mr. Mayburn paid every care and attention to the wounded man, and when all their duties were fulfilled, the united friends sat down, to rest on the green turf, and to talk of the hopeful future.
"Now, we are all anxious to know, Edward Deverell," said Hugh, "if you have got your house built, or if you are all dwelling in tents; and, above all, what kind of place is Daisy Grange?"
"I have got my house built, Hugh," answered he, "and Daisy Grange I will leave undescribed, only assuring you that it will be completely a paradise in my eyes when I see you all there, which I trust will be before many days are passed."
"And the daisies?" inquired Margaret.
"The daisies were at first coy and capricious in their new home," answered he, "but finally they have yielded to care and perseverance, and consented to adorn my small lawn, in sufficient numbers to justify me in retaining the dear name for my much beloved home."
"And what does Emma do in the wilderness?" asked Hugh.
"She cultivates flowers," replied Deverell, "sews on buttons, and performs other needful female occupations, plays, sings, reads, and is not ashamed to assist her mother, and Susan the dairy-maid, to make the butter and cheese."
"Is that Susan Raine?" asked Margaret, anxiously, for she saw Wilkins looking at Mr. Deverell with much agitation. "Is that the pretty, modest Susan, that was our fellow-voyager?"
"It is the same girl," answered Deverell. "Poor Susan, we are all very sorry for her; she had to endure a grievous disappointment, for she had taken the opportunity of accompanying us, as our servant, in order that she might join her betrothed, a wild fellow that had been transported for some venial offence; and when we reached Melbourne, and instituted the regular inquiry, we found the man had made his escape in an India vessel, with some vile wretches who had been working with him. I fear he is wholly unworthy of the good girl, who still mourns so deeply for him."
"He's nought but a reg'lar scoundrel," said Wilkins, impetuously, "he is; and she'd sarved him right if she'd gone and wed another; that's what she has done likely, sir?"
"That is what I certainly wished her to do," said Deverell, looking surprised at the free interference of Wilkins; "but the silly girl is still haunted by the wild hope of reclaiming the unfortunate man who was the companion of her childhood. She has refused the young herdsman who is so kindly attended by Miss Margaret; a worthy fellow, and has determined to remain unmarried for the sake of the convict who has so cruelly neglected her."
"That's like my bonnie true-hearted lass," said Wilkins, much excited. "Scamp as I were to lose her! But now please, Miss Margaret, to put in a word like for me. Tell t' master I'se nought like so bad but that there's some hopes of me, if Sue will take up wi' me; but how can I look for't?"
Margaret undertook to explain Wilkins's position to Deverell, and to plead for him to Susan; and the rough convict turned away with a tear in his eye, as the recollection of youthful and innocent days shone through the mist of evil deeds that had darkened his mature life.
Mr. Deverell was pleased with the story of Wilkins, and as he would be far removed from temptation at the settlement, and would be carefully watched by his good friends, he promised to bestow Susan on him; and now they prepared to break up the encampment, and to pursue their journey under pleasant auspices.
"But before we set out," said Mr. Deverell, "it will be necessary to come to some, arrangement about our troublesome prisoners. We must hold a court of justice, as imposing as circumstances will permit, and endeavor to alarm them, and make a salutary impression on them."
"There is a handsome rocky throne for the bench," said Hugh. "Please to ascend to the elevation, Mr. Judge Deverell, and look as grave as you possibly can; papa will sit by you in the character of Mercy, to mitigate the severity of Justice. Arthur and Gerald must take that hill, and Jack and I will remain here to represent counsel. We will not take the trouble to call a jury, because I know my lord judge has made up his mind about the sentence. Now, all you people stand round, and leave a passage for the police to bring up the prisoners. Will this do, my lord?"
"I am content, Hugh, provided you all look serious," answered Deverell. "You must make the most of our strength, and display your arms to advantage. With these ignorant natives, in their present condition, intimidation is the only mode of subjection. I hope the time is not very distant when milder measures may be used to win them to civilization. We are commencing the work by educating the children."
The glen was first cleared by sending the stock-keepers forward with the cattle, as their progress must necessarily be slow; then, one after another, the police released the trembling, crouching savages from the caves, and brought them before the judge. The poor wretches, at the sight of the array of guns and spears before them, endured all the terrors of death. Deverell, who had acquired some facility in speaking their language, made a long address to the terrified men; reproaching them with their folly and ingratitude in robbing him, who had never refused to assist them in their days of destitution, and who earnestly desired their welfare. He warned them of the danger of dealing with the bush-rangers, who always deceived them, and of frequenting the bush taverns to obtain the poisonous liquor which would in the end destroy their whole nation. He threatened them with instant death if they dared to transgress again; and then, satisfied with the fright he had given them, he relieved them from their misery by giving them leave to depart; a permission which they did not delay a moment to make use of; but sprung up the rocks, and speedily disappeared to seek the concealment of the bush.
There remained now only the four vile bush-rangers to dispose of; but these men, all escaped convicts, Mr. Deverell declined to punish, proposing to commit them to the charge of four of the mounted police, who were to conduct them, or, as these officials appropriately expressed it, to drive them to Sydney, and there deliver them into the hands of justice.
These ruffians were therefore brought from their respective dungeons, and manacled two together; their persons were searched, lest they should have any concealed arms; and their legs were then released from the fetters. Peter, who obstinately refused to submit to the incumbrance of clothing, required no search, and was coupled to one of his bush ranging friends, loudly showering curses on his conquerors.
"Do you mean us to set out fasting with these malignant scoundrels?" he yelled out. "Ye're fine Christians, to hunger folks. And ye know as well as we do these greedy black rascals will prig all our rations on t' road."
Mr. Deverell did know that the black police were scandalously harsh with their white prisoners, and he therefore ordered that these wretched criminals should sit down for half an hour, and be supplied with a plentiful breakfast of cold meat, which they began to devour ravenously, watched curiously by Ruth, who concealed herself in a thicket, that she might look in safety at these terrible bush-rangers. All the rest of the party, glad to avoid the sight of the wretches, wandered off to another little glen which opened from their encampment, except Mr. Deverell and Arthur, who had called the police to one side to give them a strict charge to be watchful and determined, but at the same time to treat their prisoners with humanity.
While they were conversing, they were startled and alarmed by a scream from Ruth, who, they believed, had left the encampment with the rest of the party, and on turning round they saw, to their great vexation, the ranger who had been linked with Peter galloping off on the horse of one of the police, which, ready for starting, had been tied to a tree near the prisoners. The police mounted the other three horses that were ready, and speedily pursued the fugitive; while Deverell and Arthur went up in haste, and found, to their extreme mortification, that the villain Peter was also missing. The remainder of the party, recalled from their ramble by the shriek of Ruth, had now joined them; and when the agitated girl was able to give an account of the occurrence, she said:—
"He reached out, and took a cloak off t' horse, and groped in t' pockets till he fetched out summut, maybe a key, for I heard a click; and then Peter jumped up and laid hands on t' horse; but t' other fellow was sharp after him, and pushed him off, and loped atop on his back hisself, and galloped off like mad, and left Peter standing. Oh master! how awful he swore and stamped about, and took off right up to me, and I shrieked out; and then he scrambled up yon wood." And Ruth pointed to the precipitous wood-covered wall of the glen.