‘You have no sentiment, Sparks, as I have always reminded you. What little humour you possess has been prematurely wasted on barmaids. You would enjoy a story about that old blue stag that nearly deprived you of a purchaser, just as much as Browning’s last poem—more, in fact. But I have commenced this yarn, and you must and shall have it, if we sit up till daylight.’
‘Only too happy, my dear f’ler,’ murmured Sparks somnolently. ‘Don’t shoot me instead of that nigger. You seem to have been a rum lot out there, and old “Hutbuilder,” as you call him, rather more of a gentleman than any of you. His manners rendered him unpopular, I suppose; and you trumped up this cock-and-bull story about Will just to suit the case for the Crown. Ah, Neuchamp, my boy, you have no idea how these benighted back-country squatters go on, when you and I are not there, and there is no one to check their violence.’
‘About five minutes after Will was returned as “killed, wounded, and missing” from the wash-pen for the day, a black trooper rode in with a letter from his inspector, who was quartered about twenty miles from Tthoondula. Saddling up, and pressing trooper Mayboy into the service, we galloped into the camp. He was armed with his carbine, and I with a very effective seven-shooter. I had long vowed never to draw a bead upon a blackfellow for anything less than bloodshed. But in my wrath I swore to shoot the old warrigal at sight, and in trifles I like to keep my word.
‘In the camp reigned great excitement. His countrymen freely condemned Hutkeeper, and morally gave him up to justice.
‘“No good—Hutkeeper! Waddy-galo that fellow. Goondi-galo, goondi-galo mine. Baal waddy-galo.”
‘I wasted no time in the camp, but made a cast round, to pick up the tracks of the fugitive. Mayboy, eager as a bloodhound, was soon on the trail. On the soft soil of the Paroo it was not difficult to follow, with eyes like those of Mayboy.
‘I said, “You think man him (catch), Hutkeeper?”
‘“Baal!” answered the trooper, “that fellow too much burri. Bime-by marmy (officer) come up, and all about black trooper; then man him, Hutkeeper; mine think it shoot him!—Ki—i—i!”
‘The latter expression long drawn out, was expressive of the high degree of satisfaction which that consummation would afford him and his brothers-in-arms. Having made sure of the direction of the tracks, Mayboy and I returned to the station. A messenger had long since been sent to Mr. Bothwell, the inspector, reporting the outrage, and asking for the prompt arrest of the offender. “Arrest or slay the Frank,” was old Lambro’s order; “Catch the nigger, alive or dead,” was, in effect, the word of command when murder or wounding with intent was proved.
‘Within six hours after the commission of the offence Mr. Bothwell arrived with five highly efficient-looking troopers, making, with Mayboy, six in all.