Blacks and Bushrangers: Adventures in Queensland

by E. B. Kennedy

He had hoped, during his pursuit, that he would overtake the bushranger as he sat down to rest, with no one but his helpless victim near him; but it was now evident that the cunning robber had never intended to stop for more than an instant until he had gained his lair and joined his “pals.”

Once the thought crossed Mat’s mind that, as he had three enemies to deal with, he would wait until the solitary one followed the example of the others, and went to sleep; but this idea he at once dismissed. The agony of waiting, as we know, he never could tolerate; and now, with Annie a prisoner, to be unoccupied would be intolerable to him.

At length, after having viewed the pros and cons of the life-and-death struggle which he knew must ensue, our forester made up his mind, drew himself back from his place of concealment, made a long détour, and, crossing the creek far below the big tree which sheltered the two men, he approached their camp from the other side.

Drawing himself along the ground, he found that he was out of sight of the single robber, and thus could approach the other two, whom he found still asleep, and breathing heavily.

Having reached the guns, he cautiously put out two fingers, eased the nearest one down from its position against the tree, drew it towards him, opened the pan, shook out the powder, and replaced it as carefully in its former position, serving the other one in the same way. A large powder-flask lying against one of the men had not escaped his eye. This he buried deep in the sand. So far, mere child’s play to our forester. He then retreated a few yards behind a bush, looked to his own weapons, and took stock of the place where he knew Magan was sitting. Cautiously peeping, he saw that he could shoot the man dead from where he was lying concealed, but this act did not enter into his plan. He wanted to get his gun, and so have him, he hoped, at his mercy.

He found, upon further spying, that he would have to make another détour to get round to the back of his man; and herein lay the difficulty, owing to want of cover.

He now, for the first time, saw what he knew the robber must have with him—the gun, lying near Magan’s right hand, and slightly behind him. “If I get that,” thought Mat, “it will be the stalk of my whole life;” and he crawled away. It seemed hours to him before he had come round to the edge of the sandy plain to the rear of Magan. Once there, he wormed his way in the required direction with eyes fixed on the robber, and grasping his gun ready for any emergency.

Every time that the man was not looking at his food—each time that he looked up or about him—Mat was as a stone, and, in truth, his body being the exact colour of the ruddy sand on which he lay, it would have taken something sharper than a white man’s eye to detect him.

Slowly he crept on. He could hear once, in the stillness of the air, one of the two men turn over and grumble in his sleep, and again was Mat motionless.

At last, his heart thumping so that he was afraid it would be heard, silently and gently he drew himself so close behind the bushranger that he could hear him breathe; his hand was upon the gun, lifting it gently, when the man made a movement as though he would get up.