Story 3--Chapter XII.
Rescue.
“To wait until night!” Those words kept repeating themselves, as Murray lay there concealed, within but a few yards of Katie, and yet unable to warn her of help being so near.
From time to time Wahika pressed upon him food, and he took it mechanically; for he knew his dire need of strength, and trembled for his weakness when the time should come for the struggle which he knew must be impending.
The sun passed down behind the opposite ridge and still the men lay about, drinking and smoking. Apparently trusting entirely to the security of their position, no guard was now kept, for Murray had recognised the two men from the entrance of the ravine, who had rejoined the party below early in the evening, and at length the darkness came on, for this night the moon was clouded. But the light dresses of Katie and her companion were still discernible, and hour after hour wore on, the only change being that Wahika had glided down like a serpent, after divesting himself of his blanket; and then, slowly and cautiously, each in his inmost heart dreading some foul blow, Murray and Bray followed, till they lay crouching beneath the leaves, so close that not a whisper could have been uttered unheard. Inch by inch they had lowered themselves, trembling as each leaf rustled, and moving only when the conversation was at its loudest.
Could they have stood erect, half a dozen steps would have placed them beside Katie, who, stupefied with grief, still clung to her fellow-captive, save at such times as a rough voice summoned the woman away to bear spirits or a light from one to the other; and at last, when she was returning from such an errand, her progress was arrested, and Murray and Wahika rose to their knees, for they felt that the time for action had come.
The night was dark, but figures crossing the chasm could be distinctly made out, and there was no need for Wahika’s pointing finger, for Murray had already made out two men gently creeping towards the sitting figure in her light garments, and another making his way from an opposite direction. Enemies all, they seemed; but it was not so, for the next moment there was the sound of cursing, and a fierce straggle, in the midst of which Katie felt herself roughly clasped, and half carried towards the dense foliage on one side, and before she could check herself, gave vent to a sharp cry.
The cry was nearly proving fatal; for though, at first sight, the three new-comers had been mistaken in the darkness for a portion of their own party, the convicts had now taken the alarm, and with furious shouts they sought each man his weapon.
As they sprang forward, Bray had furiously thrust Murray back, so that he tripped and fell; but recovering himself quickly, he leaped to Katie’s side, and his voice reassured her.
“This way,” he whispered; but it seemed too late. On three sides there were enemies; but Wahika seized the poor girl’s arm, and forced her towards the unthreatened side, dashing the foliage apart; and, more from the boldness of the act than the force of their attack, the young men were left free to follow, Katie’s dress guiding them, as the savage drew her rapidly after him, while to the convicts the escape seemed almost incredible. Had they pursued, all efforts on the part of the fugitives would have been vain; but feeling assured that they were attacked by a strong party, they were content for a while to fire at random in the direction taken by their enemies, who were thus enabled to make some little progress before pursuit was attempted.
Using almost superhuman exertions, Murray at last reached Katie’s side, panted out a few words of encouragement, and tried to hurry her on; but now the savage stopped short, listened attentively for a few moments, and then turned in another direction, choosing a more arduous upward path, helping to drag the half-fainting girl from crag to crag, but not for far, since it was evident now that the convicts had recovered from their surprise, and were spreading in all directions in pursuit, encouraging each other with shouts as they pressed on.
Twice the fleeing party had to double back, for it seemed that they were being headed; but Wahika was inexhaustible in his knowledge of the ground; and at last he reached once more one of the many little mountain streams, trickling down a steep chasm, whose sides were too precipitous to be scaled; and telling Murray to go first with the trembling girl, he laid his hand on Bray’s arm.
“They go—we stop fight,” he whispered; but Bray refused.
“Why should not Mr Murray stay, and fight for his lady-love?” he said bitterly.
“No, no, no! Keep with me,” whispered Katie, clinging to Murray’s arm.
Smothering his resentment, Murray slowly, and hardly able to press on himself, helped his tottering charge up the gully. Slow, cruel work, with Bray lingering behind, so as to keep them in sight, and the faithful savage covering their retreat. So far, the convicts had not hit upon the gully; and if they did find out their route, it was a place that two determined men could have held against a score. But though Murray made every effort he was but human; his wound had been a tremendous drain upon his system; and at the end of half a mile of incessant climbing, he sank at Katie’s feet with a groan, saying, “I can go no farther.”
“Mr Bray,” he said huskily, “I am dead beat. You must take my place; but while power is left me to lift my gun, no one shall pass here!”
Bray leaped to Katie’s side in an instant; but she held out her hands to keep him at bay. Murray pressed the poor girl hard to leave him.
“Wahika would protect you,” he said earnestly; “and after a while I could follow.”
“Would you leave me?” she whispered.
Murray did not respond; and they waited, listening to the distant shouts—now nearer, and echoing, as if close at hand, then growing more and more faint, when the hearts of the pursued would rise; but only for their spirits to be again damped; for once more it was evident that the enemy were nearing.
It was an agonising time as they sat there, feeling, as it were, that Death, with black and outspread wings, was swooping here and there—now nearer, so that they could almost feel the dull flap of his wings; now farther away. Murray implored his companion to escape.
The answer was ever the same:
“No;” and the question repeated, “Would he go?”—a question that he could not answer. And once more they relapsed into silence, save when the savage mattered a few words, or stole gently down a little way towards the mouth of the gully.
Once Wahika was gone for so long a time, that Katie glanced uneasily at Bray, who followed the savage down, returned, followed him again, and again returned, to stand thoughtfully listening; while Edward Murray seemed to read his thoughts respecting his helplessness, and the little difficulty he would have in ridding himself of a rival.
Could he but tear Katie away, and flee with her higher up the gully, the convicts, upon reaching the spot where they now were, would find the wounded and half-helpless man; and once there were no Edward Murray, Katie might relent—that was, if they escaped.
The young man sighed to himself as he pretty correctly rendered the thoughts of Anthony Bray; and he could not help feeling that he would rather see her free and the wife of Bray, than that she should again fall into the hands of their merciless enemies.
Twice over some movement on the part of Bray made the poor girl cling closer to Murray—more in the character of protector than protected; for a terrible fear came over her that Bray would slay the almost helpless foe to his desires, and then compel her to follow him; and she told herself that she would die first.
“Why does he not return?” she muttered, as she tried to pierce the obscurity below, in her efforts to catch sight of the savage. But fully an hour passed, during which time they could still hear the occasional shout or response of the convicts, as they vainly sought the fugitives. The more eagerly, too, that the freedom from attack had taught them the weakness of the rescuing party.
Suddenly Bray started, and raised his piece; for a figure was seen to rise from some bushes just below them. But a second glance told him that it was Wahika, who had been watching at the mouth of the golly.
“Morning soon—then find,” he said curtly. “Now try get up higher.”
Drinking deeply of the limpid water near at hand, Murray rose to his feet, and, assisted by the others, he managed to scale the rocky barrier. The darkness was intense; but cautiously leading, the savage pressed back the branches, removed heavy stones, and pioneered the way, until he stopped short almost in a cavern, so shut in was the gorge; and then, helping Katie to a place where the trickling water did not reach, he whispered them to sit and rest, setting them the example himself, but without giving any explanation.
As the day approached, for a time the darkness seemed to increase; and they sat on, with strained ears, listening for the signs that should tell of pursuit. Twice only a faint cry came echoing up the chasm; otherwise all was silent.
Murray, as he lay on the stones, was filled with despair, as he thought of his weakness, and the distrust existing in their little camp; and as he tried in vain to look assuringly at Katie, he more than once asked himself how it would end.