In Quest of Gold; Or, Under the Whanga Falls

by Alfred St. Johnston

The heavy rains that had fallen since the fire had filled the creeks again, so that they lost no time in the search for water, in which they had wasted so many hours on the outward journey.

The only causes of delay were the stoppages necessary for the providing of provisions (for all the stores they had brought with them were now completely at an end), and these were not of frequent occurrence, as Murri generally succeeded in accomplishing his hunt either before starting in the morning or during the mid-day halt. There was no scarcity of birds, and the boys several times provided a meal by their guns, although they were chary of firing more than was necessary for fear of attracting the notice of any wandering myalls.

The party had seen nothing of their old antagonists when they passed through the gully where they had been attacked by Prince Tom and his friends, and Murri said that in all likelihood the whole tribe had wandered by that time to a very great distance from there. In all the time since they had left the Whanga they had hardly seen a native. Once they had come upon a woman and a child, who showed them where there was a native well close by, and another time they had seen the smoke of native fires at some little distance, but with these exceptions they had seen nothing of the myalls.

For the last few days the boys had talked incessantly of Wandaroo; what would happen when they were back again; who would be the person to see them first; and of all the little things that make a home-coming so delightful to look forward to, and so happy in the fulfilment. Both Alec and George were in wild spirits; the thought of their success and what it meant to all of them; the delight and relief of their mother; and the astonishment of the incredulous old Scotsman, Macleod, which they foresaw and spoke of, were sufficient cause for their happiness, and accounted for their excitement. Murri did not seem to enter into their feelings; he was in no hurry to return, he was well enough off and happy where he was; and he did not feel the calls of family affection so strongly as the white man, though it must not be thought that he was entirely without them.

The evening of the sixth day since they had left the Whanga with their precious burdens had arrived, and the little party had reached the long creek which they believed formed the north-eastern boundary of their great run. There was still an hour or so of daylight before them, but they knew they could not reach the head station before dark, as their horses, although in fairly good condition considering the heavy work they had done in the last week, were not very fresh. But the fact that night would have fallen before they could get in did not trouble them in any way; they knew their road about the run as well by night as by day, and if they did not know it the horses did, which was much the same thing. Besides, there was a moon only a few days from full, which, an hour after sunset, would make the night almost as bright as day.

Alec and George were riding a little way ahead, and Murri, whose turn it was to lead the pack-horses, was a few yards in the rear. They were scrambling down the rather rotten side of the creek talking and laughing gaily, for in their present state of excitement and high spirits a very little in the way of a joke was enough to make them laugh. At that moment they were both perfectly happy; success had crowned their endeavours, and after many toils and trials and dangers they were safely close at home once more.

"Here we are on our own land again at last; and we can call it our own now with truth. I say, Alec, doesn't the run look beautiful? I didn't half appreciate it before. What an age it seems since we went away."

"We shall be home in a couple of hours, I should think. I feel as though we ought to have a band to meet us playing, 'See the Conquering Hero comes,' for we have done even more than we hoped to do when we set out. I wonder what they'll say when we tell them."

"Oh, mother won't say anything; she'll just sit down; and be quite overcome for a minute, and then will get up, looking very happy, saying, 'Boys, you must be hungry.' Margaret will go rather red from excitement, and will run round and hug us both, forgetting that she ought to be sedate."

"What will Yesslett do?"