Story 3--Chapter XX.
Friends in Need.
It seemed almost impossible for the convicts not to have seen them, as now, to the number of five, they leaped down and seized the provisions that lay scattered about, hunting out such bottles as remained, and more than once coming so near to Mr Meadows that he hardly dared to breathe. Then they went farther away, first one and then another, contemptuously kicking the body of their late associate.
But it was after they had gathered and tied up a portion of the food that the danger of the hiding couple culminated; for once more drawing near, a convict said:
“Now then, down into the valley once, just for a look about for squalls, and then back again.”
“After breakfast and a bit of ’bacca,” said another, coolly seating himself, when his companions laughed and followed his example.
Mr Meadows shuddered. They were so near, that he felt that they must hear them if they moved; and still he knew that in another few minutes they would trample upon him and the woman in their downward progress. It must be done; the attempt must be made; and after turning and gazing at the convicts, he bent down towards the pale face at his side.
He had no occasion to speak; for he read in her looks that she had heard every sound. He dared not trust himself to state his wishes, but pointed along the track so plainly marked through the long grass, here abundant; and slowly the woman rose to her knees, then, with a slight rustling, to her feet, and began to glide gently away.
Mr Meadows could not watch her, but dared only to keep his eyes fixed upon those of one of the seated convicts, just seen through the leaves; when, to his consternation, he saw him shift his position so as to gaze, as it were, right in his watcher’s face, till, trembling with dread, Mr Meadows’s eyelids sunk, and he knelt there motionless.
When he again unclosed his eyes, the man had ceased to look in his direction; and then, calling up his strength, he slowly backed, inch by inch, upon his hands and knees, till the descending nature of the ground took him below the edge which overhung the depression where the convicts were seated. Then, and then only, he raised himself gradually into a stooping position, listened attentively, and, with beating heart, began softly, step by step, to follow the woman, whose own retreat he tried vainly to hear.
Gradually he set down each foot, lest a sound should follow, holding his breath, and pressing a hand upon his heart to stay its throbbings; when, accelerating his pace, he strode on to overtake the woman, whom he could now see hurrying down from stone to stone, or along the well-marked grassy track, with fear-given wings.
He trembled lest she should miss the track in her fright; but no, she kept to it without deviating, until she reached the spot where Mr Meadows left his gun; and there he overtook her.
What was to be his course? Should they proceed farther up the Gap, or down towards the ruins? Friends should be coming from either way, unless they had returned, and passed downwards, giving up the search so far, until joined by the expected reinforcements.
He was woodman enough, though, from his long residence in the colony, to be able, in a short time, to determine whether his companions had returned. Though the upward tracks were easy to find, no descending footprints could he discover; but a joyful cry was half uttered as twice he came upon a broken twig, which told him of the promise of Edward Murray, and showed that he had passed in that direction.
There needed now but little reflection for Mr Meadows to decide what course would be the best. Up the valley there were certainly friends; down the valley there might be; but it was uncertain.
Turning then to the woman, who had followed him step by step, he pointed upwards; and in silence they moved towards the higher portion of the Gap. But they had hardly traversed a quarter of a mile before she halted, exclaiming:
“I can’t go any farther, sir;” and, without another word, she sank fainting upon the grass.
“Then we must sit and rest, my child, until our friends come,” he said in encouraging tones, which did much towards soothing the woman; and then, opening the wallet slung by his side, he forced her to partake of some refreshment.
They waited patiently as the afternoon wore on, listening for some token of coming friends. Once voices were heard approaching, evidently those of the convicts; but they soon passed away again; and at last came the rustling sound of cautiously advancing footsteps, to right of them, to left of them, and in front, and ever coming nearer and nearer.
“Friends, my child, friends,” said the old man cheerfully.
But the woman looked at him with a troubled anxious gaze, not doubting his word, but distrusting his ability to tell; until, rising suddenly from where they sat, he called loudly, and, from close at hand, the cry was responded to.
“No news, sir—not a bit,” said Lawler; for it was he. “We did not miss you till we got to the top; but perhaps it was as well you stopped behind, and saved yourself fatigue that you could scarcely have borne.”
“Quite as well, John Lawler,” said Mr Meadows, smiling faintly; “but I have not been idle;” and he pointed to the trembling woman behind him.
Lawler gave a low whistle, which was responded to from different quarters; and in a few minutes the party of settlers had collected round, listening eagerly to Mr Meadows’s narration; when it was immediately decided to make their way at once to the track, leaving one of their party to watch for the hoped-for aid, and then proceed to the convicts’ lair, following their trail to where it was evident that some conflict must be going on.
But they had no occasion to weaken their little force. Before they reached the path that led upwards, it was plain that some one was approaching; and, after due precautions, a joyful encounter took place; when, eager and forgetful of fatigue, the now tolerably strong company filed up the track.
It was now so plainly beaten that it was followed quickly; Mr Meadows, who declared himself sufficiently rested, insisting upon being one of the party, lest they should fail for want of guidance; while one of the new-comers was intrusted with the care of the shepherd’s wife.
Well armed and determined, and now outnumbering the enemy, though they knew it not, there seemed every prospect of Justice laying her sword upon the outlaws’ heads.
The depression was reached at last; and men’s brows darkened as they looked upon the scattered plunder; but they paused not; and half-an-hour’s climbing and toiling brought the party to the entrance of the narrow gorge, where they halted to look inquiringly at Mr Meadows.
Marks on grass and mossy stone were plain enough to be seen, though, after a short inspection; and a careful advance was made over the rugged ground, until the leader stopped short, to point out something he had discovered.
Only a trifle; but enough to convince them that they were on the right track; for upon a thorny bush hung a shred, evidently fresh torn from a woman’s dress—a significant fact, when found in one of the wilds far away from a civilised home.
Then, satisfied of the near approach of the conflict, each man looked to his piece, and eagerly scanning every rock and stone in advance, they pressed on, until suddenly the foremost man raised his hand, and pointed to where, far in advance, and high above them, they could see perched up a figure, upon whose bright gun-barrel the sunbeams played and flashed, as, resting upon a stone, he seemed intently gazing at something in advance.
Lawler was acting the part of leader; and he appointed two of the party to watch this one man.
“If he turns to fire, bring him down,” he said sternly.
The attention of the rest of the party was directed to what seemed the end of the gorge; for, right in front, they could now see the upper part of the vast scarped rock, from whose ledge so gallant a defence had been kept up; but it was not until they had advanced another hundred yards, so as to surmount a broad ridge of stone, that they could see the ledge, up which, with their companions eagerly watching their progress, and covering them with their guns, two of the convicts had clambered.
These two had just reached the shelf, so that, in another minute, they would have stood upon it, when the sharp echoing crack of a rifle was heard, almost accompanied by two more; for the man upon the rock high up had suddenly turned, caught sight of the coming danger, and fired. His aim, however, was too rapid to be effectual; while, in answer to the double shot from below, the convict started to his feet, dropped his piece, clutched at the air for a few moments, and then leaped upwards, to fall heavily into the gorge.
The two men who had scaled the rock slipped back, hung by their hands; and then one fell; while the other, with catlike activity, managed to descend unhurt; but only to fall, the next instant, under the volley sent in answer to that of the enemy, who, roused to action by their fellow’s shot, had faced round and fired at their assailants.
Then followed a rapid exchange of firing for some five minutes; but the advantage was all on the side of the settlers, who had the greater part of the cover; and upon a sharp dash being made with clubbed guns, after the convicts had fired, and before they had time to reload, a fierce hand-to-hand struggle ensued, in which more than one settler fell beneath the outlaws’ knives; for they fought desperately, like rats at bay, till, one by one, they were beaten down; till the remainder sullenly threw away their arms, and suffered themselves to be bound.