Story 3--Chapter VI.
The Alarm.
We must now return to the struggle on the brink of the precipice. With the energy of despair, Anthony Bray sought to grapple with his enemy, when the threatening weapon was withdrawn, and a harsh voice, with surprise in its tones, gave utterance to his name.
“What, Wahika!” exclaimed Bray joyfully; and he gazed with wonder in the blue-tinted tattooed face of one of the natives, who had often been upon his premises.
“Thought killed. Men come from sea kill all, and come kill him again for kill you.”
“You thought I was one of the men?”
The New Zealander nodded.
“Where go to now? Come back pah?”
“No, no!” exclaimed Bray, as a bright thought struck him. “I want to go over the hill to the Moa’s Nest. You can show me the best way.”
“Much hard work; but Wahika show;” and, without another word, he plunged down again, with Bray following for a little distance; but, under the impression that the native had misunderstood him in his imperfect knowledge of the tongue, he called to him to stop, and pointed upwards.
The savage smiled at his eagerness, and shook his head, and pointed downward, then drew an imaginary line to the right, and then another, which led in the direction of the hill-top.
Bray nodded, and followed without another word; when, after a few turns and doublings, the guide hit upon the bed of a good-sized stream, and, first on one side, then on the other, led his companion up and up, at a rate which inspired him with the hope that he might even yet be in time. Higher and higher they climbed now, passing in among the trees at the side, and anon climbing over some huge block which arrested their progress, when the guide would stretch out a helping hand, or in some other way assist his less active and panting companion.
The journey was performed in absolute silence, till suddenly the native stopped short, and, facing round, he exclaimed, as if he had at length found out the object in view:
“You go tell at Moa’s Nest men come?”
Bray nodded.
“You think they come Moa’s Nest?” queried the savage.
Bray nodded again.
“Wahika fetch tribe—go to pah;” and he made a movement as if to return.
But Bray pointed forward; and, in obedience, the man led on.
Twice over Bray stopped, panting, thinking that they had reached the summit of the ridge; but there were still higher crags to climb; and on they slowly made their way, often along the edges of dangerous chasms—places where in calmer moments he dare not have set his foot; but, with thoughts concentrated upon his object, he pressed on.
If he could but save Katie, he would be content; and then thought after thought crowded through his brain—thoughts that at another time he would have shuddered at; but now, in this time of temptation, they found a home.
“Hah!” ejaculated the guide suddenly, as he helped his companion to the top of a huge mass of vine-clad rock.
And, looking in the direction pointed out by the savage, he could see, far below them, the home of Martin Lee bathed in the peaceful moonlight, and with nothing to indicate impending danger.
“In time, so far,” exclaimed Bray; and, pointing to the long low buildings that glistened beneath them, the native nodded, and they began rapidly to descend.
What Bray wanted in agility, he tried to supply by daring, and he boldly followed his guide, now leaping, now swinging down by hanging rope-like creeper, and more than once falling heavily; but he was up and on again directly.
And there was need of haste; for slowly and cautiously a band of some thirty men were making their way up towards the peaceful home. Their progress was necessarily slow, from their ignorance of the locality; and they more than once lost ground by searching for a settlement up some pleasant-looking ravine, or it would have been impossible for the warning to have arrived in time to prevent a surprise.
The Moa’s Nest at last, though; and half-a-dozen fierce dogs ran out, raging round Anthony Bray, and hardly kept at bay by Wahika’s club; so that it needed no summons to rouse Martin Lee from his bed, and to bring him to the window.
“What!” he exclaimed, as Anthony Bray told his tale; “a piratical party hanging, burning? Nonsense, man; you have been dreaming!”
“As you will,” cried Bray fiercely; and, stepping back a few steps, he picked up a stone and flung it through Katie’s window.
“Here, Kate!—Miss Lee! wake up! Quick! there’s danger!” he exclaimed.
“He’s mad!” cried old Lee. “Here, stop him! What are you doing? But who’s that? Wahika?”
“Yes; Wahika,” answered the savage. “White men come ship—kill and burn. Open door—here directly!”
“Here, stop, Bray! I beg pardon!” exclaimed the old man excitedly; and in another minute he had opened the door and admitted the new-comers.
Men were aroused, and the dogs called in; and then a hasty council of war was held.
“Sure they are not natives?” said Murray to Bray.
But the latter stood knitting his brow without giving any reply.
“Did you not say, friend Murray, that there were convicts escaped from Port Caroline, and that a schooner had been seized?” said the calm voice of Mr Meadows.
“Yes; but surely they cannot have sailed all round here,” exclaimed Murray.
“Why not, if your vessel could anchor two days since in Kaitaka Bay? I see no impossibility. There could be no other marauding party here, my friend. I don’t like bloodshed; so you must make a show of being prepared with such arms as you have, and then we will parley with them. I will be the ambassador of peace. Perhaps a little tea and tobacco will make them take their departure.”
“They’ll take their departure when they have slain all here, and turned your home into a heap of ashes, as they have mine!” exclaimed Bray fiercely. “If you have any respect for your women and your own lives, you will at once try to put the place in a state of defence.”
Meanwhile Wahika had glided out of the door, and getting into the shadow cast by the trees, made his way quickly down the valley; but not for far. In a short time he returned to announce the coming of the enemy.
Murray had proposed flight as the safest plan; but this had been objected to by old Lee, who vowed that as long as he could lift hand no convict should cross his threshold, or lay finger upon the property he had so hardly earned.
“What should we run to the woods for, Ned Murray? I should have thought a young fellow like you would have been no coward.”
Murray knit his brows; for just then he caught sight of a sneer upon the countenance of Bray.
“I’ve not fought much with men, sir,” he said coolly; “but I have had more than one battle with storms. Perhaps I can play my part here; at least, I shall try.”
“Fighting! No; we must have no fighting, friend Lee,” said Mr Meadows. “I will go out and reason with these beasts of Ephesus, and see what can be done. But I should be prepared; I should be prepared.”
“I mean to be,” said the old man sternly; and he hurriedly took down rifle and fowling-piece from the slings upon the wall, there being sufficient to arm only about half the party; but, fortunately, there was plenty of ammunition; and this was hastily distributed, the one light extinguished, and a heavy chest or two planted against the door.
The party within the building now consisted of twelve; namely, eight men and four women—four of the men being the settler’s shepherds, and two of the trembling women their wives. To make the most of the place, the two doors at the rear were hastily barricaded, the women shut in an inner chamber, and the mattresses and beds dragged out to put in front of the windows.
“Are they well armed, Mr Bray?” said Murray.
But there was no answer until Mr Meadows repeated the question.
“They took what arms there were in my place; several guns and rifles. What they had before, I did not notice. You are surely not going out to them, sir?”
“Indeed I should be much wanting in duty if I refrained at such a time of need,” said Mr Meadows. “I hope my words will have some effect upon them; but at least I will try. Friend Lee, draw back those chests, and let me go.”
“And get knocked on the head,” grumbled the old man grimly, as he forced a bullet down upon the powder in his rifle. “No, parson, stop here; and I think, if what friend Bray tells us be true, you had better take to war this time instead of peace.”
“Take away those chests,” said Mr Meadows peremptorily, to one of the shepherds; and the man drew them away, when stepping out into the moonlight, he walked hastily forward to the advancing party, and was seen, by the friends who were anxiously watching him, to enter the little cluster and disappear.