Story 3--Chapter IX.
Cutting off the Retreat.
Old Martin Lee saw with anxious solicitude Edward Murray rush after Bray; then the closing door hid them from his sight; and with renewed energy he clutched his gun, and struck fiercely at the first assailant that presented himself, shivering the stock to pieces, and laying the man motionless at his feet. But the barrel made no insignificant weapon; and he fought, as did Mr Meadows, fiercely, though in vain; the odds were too great, even though they were ably seconded by the shepherds. Through the beaten-down door the convicts rushed; and in a few moments the defenders were trampled under foot, and lay on the now deeply-crimsoned floor, the women being dragged out of the house into the front.
Then followed the scene of ruin and confusion previously enacted in the next valley. Food was obtained, the shepherd’s weeping wife being compelled to provide it, and then it was devoured by the red-handed crew. Wine, spirits, all were seized, and a mad debauch ensued; the ruffians, for the most part, having been deprived of such indulgences for years. But, soon satiated, the eager search for arms and ammunition was continued; men loading themselves, too, with much more plunder than they could bear away.
As for the dead, they lay unnoticed, the wounded receiving but little better treatment, till at last the moon slowly dipped behind the western ridge of hills, causing a deep shadow to creep along the Gap, and up the opposite slope, when, with an oath at the coming darkness, one ruffian thrust a light against some curtains, which caught fire in an instant. The flame ran up to the dry, boarded ceiling, and in a few minutes it became plain that the settler’s pleasant home must become a heap of ruins.
“What are you doing of?” shouted one convict to another, who, regardless of the flames, dragged out two bodies, in which there seemed to be some trace of life. But the man did not answer, and when the other attempted to hinder him, struck the ruffian to the ground in an instant.
But the next moment he was on his feet, knife in hand, and sprang at his assailant; but only to go down again, as if the fist that struck the blow had been so much lead.
He lay for a few moments, half-stunned, and then rose, slowly muttering, and shaking his head, while the other, in answer, apparently, to the mute appeals of the women, half-dragged, half-carried the wounded men out of reach of the rapidly increasing flames.
The man did it, though, in a coarse, rough, brutal way, as if afraid that he might lose caste in the eyes of his companions; and then, after bestowing a contemptuous kick on each, he rejoined his party, loaded himself with such booty as he had secured, and the motley group began to make preparations for returning down the valley.