"And mind, Mr. Arthur, sharp's t' word," said Wilkins, "if we want to beat him. He let me into his schemes a bit, as how he meant to get them fellows after him down south to join a lot of bush-rangers as was to meet him. Ye see, we're not top walkers, at no time; and wi' all this stuff to hug, we'd better be trotting."
"Make ready!" cried Gerald, tying on his knapsack of bark, and putting into one pocket a canister of powder, and into the other a bag of shot; "we must trot, as Wilkins says, as well as fellows can trot carrying such burdens as ours. I say, Arty, haven't I got my share?"
"You have indeed, my boy," answered Arthur. "I fear you will not be able to get on long under such a heavy burden; but we must try, at first however, to carry as much away as we can bear. Take your bow to support you, and mount the ladder. Now, Hugh."
Hugh was similarly laden, but carried a gun instead of a bow. Ruth would not resign her fowls, and had in addition the serious weight of a large bag of potatoes. Margaret, Jenny, and Baldabella carried the bread and the remainder of the potatoes, the poor native having in addition the charge of her child. Mr. Mayburn was laden with the shells and buckets which constituted their household furniture; and Arthur, Wilkins, and Jack cleared off all the rest of the weapons and bags. The descent to the plains had been rendered easy by the conflagration, which had almost entirely destroyed the forest, and the travellers chose their path in a direction opposite to the wood which was the abode of the natives. They toiled on with swift feet and anxious hearts, scarcely conscious of their heavy burdens, for two hours; in which time they had left their desolated sanctuary far away to the north.
The ground was level and fertile, and the weather favorable; for the sun was overclouded, though no rain was falling; and relaxing their extreme speed, they still continued to walk on, till downright fatigue and hunger pointed out the necessity of rest. The best place for their encampment that they could select was in the midst of a thicket of the tea-shrub and other low brushwood. The young men with their axes cleared a spot for a fire, and niches for sleeping-places; they plucked the fresh leaves from the plants to make tea, and enjoyed their coarse biscuit, soothed by the silver tones of the bell-bird, the musical piping of the organ-magpie, and the soft cry of an invisible bird, the curious notes of which resembled those of the curlew.
Night fell on them with all the beauty of the tropical regions; the soft breeze loaded with fragrance from the luxuriant flowers revived by the recent rains, the bright stars above their heads, the brilliant fire-flies floating round them, the dying notes of the half hushed birds, the incessant hum of the restless insect tribes; all was harmony, inspiring devout and holy thoughts; and the weary travellers slept happily and trustfully till morning awoke them to resume their labors.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A Bark Sledge.—The Friendly Tribe.—The Wild Melon.—A Nocturnal Alarm.—The Wombats.—The Bivouac on the Heath.—The Savages again.—Away to the South.
The women had prepared breakfast, and Arthur was becoming impatient, before Jack and the two young boys appeared, dragging after them a large sheet of bark, to which they had attached ropes.