“It is curious,” said Burns, in answer to Mat’s remarks concerning the colonies, “that you should get on this subject, for I know something of Australia from my brother, who has been for a few years in New South Wales, and that very map hanging there came from him last mail; he sent it to show the boundaries of the new colony called Queensland, in which his station will shortly be included. A ship named the Young Austral sails in a day or two from London to Moreton Bay. I daresay that if you are in the same mind next trip, I could help you about the passage. I know the skipper, and he is taking out a heap of things to my brother for me. But now let us be off; I would like to get back to the enclosure you called ‘Boldre Wood;’ there must be cock there.”
To Boldre Wood they then proceeded, and, striking into a thicket of hollies, Mat proceeded to beat, with the result of putting up several woodcock, which either flew the wrong side of the bushes for Burns, or which he missed. Though usually a fair shot, this snap-shooting in dense hollies was new to him; so, getting tired of missing, and the light being worse here than in the open, he called to Mat, and stepped out on to a furzy plain. No sooner were they in it than up sprang a doe from her seat. Burns threw up his gun, and, in spite of the cries of Mat, rolled her over with a charge of shot in the head.
“What the ‘limb’s’ to be done now?” quoth Mat, as he hurried up to the fallen beast, at the same time casting a glance behind him. “My eye! it is a keeper. I zee’d zome one just as you throwed up yer gun.”
Burns, looking in the direction towards which his companion was gazing, saw a man hurrying up from the hollies which they had just quitted.
Instantly the gipsy gripped his companion by the arm, saying, “It’s writ down felony to kill a deer, two years at least, quick! You go that way, right through the enclosure on to the Lyndhurst road. Give I the gun, and he’ll take after me.” Then grasping the gun, and giving Burns a push that nearly sent him on to his face, Mat was gone.
“What a fuss about a deer,” thought Burns, as he plunged into the thicket; “but I suppose the gipsy’s right, though if I did not see honesty written on his face, I should have thought it a dodge to clear off with my gun.”
Meanwhile the keeper, seeing Mat disappearing with the gun, shouted to him to stop; but as no heed was paid to this summons, he started off at a run to seize him. Mat no sooner perceived his intention than he bounded into the hollies, and by doubling and dodging tried to throw his pursuer off, but the latter was just as active as he was, and drove him right through the thicket into the old beeches beyond, and through them again on to a plain; and here commenced a terrific race; but it was soon evident to Mat that he had met his match, for being handicapped with the gun and bag of Burns, neither of which would he part with, he felt that the keeper was gaining upon him.
“If I can only get over the Bratley Brook I’ll do him yet,” thought Mat, who was getting his second wind, as he put on a spurt down the hill; but, alas for his hopes! the brook was swollen by the recent heavy rains, and as he rose to take the leap his pursuer was close behind him. The opposite bank came down with him as he lit full and fair upon it; he had just time to throw the gun on to the land as he fell backwards into the water. At the same instant the keeper’s arms encircled his neck, for the latter had, on seeing Mat’s mishap, jumped up to his middle in the brook, and seized him with “Now then, my lad, if you fight, down you go.”
Mat, who was half-drowned, and woefully out of breath, choked out, “I’ve saved the gun so far, any way; and be hanged to you.”
“Have you, then, my young poacher?” returned the keeper. “I’ve got it, and you too; and if you don’t go quietly, and without any ‘sarce,’ maybe you’ll get the contents of the weapon. I’ve got one on yer, at any rate. Who was yer mate?” A question to which Mat did not vouchsafe any answer.