But before he could effect his purpose, a hoarse cry caused the savage to pause and falter. Hubert Warleigh, with his gun clubbed, was bounding frantically towards the triumphant champion.
But the distance was against the white man, though his panther-like bounds reduced the race to a question of seconds.
‘Hould on, Mr. Hubert!’ yelled old Tom, who had quitted his coign of vantage, followed by the excited dogs, no longer to be restrained. ‘Sure, we’ll have him, the murdtherin’ thafe. The others is fell back, since thim two dropped to Mr. Hamilton’s pay-rifle—more power to him. Here, boys! hould him! hould him! Smoker! Spanker! soole him!’
The old man yelled like a fiend; and as the startled savage saw the grim hounds stretching to the earth in full pursuit of him, he dropped his prey in terror of the unaccustomed foe.
‘At him, Spanker! hould him, Smoker!’ screamed the old man, ‘tear the throat of him. Marciful Saver! did any one ever see the like of that! But I’ll have the heart’s blood of ye, if ye were the Diaoul out of h—l, this—night.’
This mixture of religious adjuration and profanity from the lips of the excited old stock-rider was elicited by another cast of the fatal dice.
As the brawny savage glanced at the dogs, which were rapidly nearing him, and upon the powerful form of Hubert Warleigh, who bade fair to challenge him before he could reach his covert, loaded as he was, he unwillingly relinquished his victim. With a couple of bounds he reached the gunya, where, crouching behind the largest boulder, he awaited the attack. But it was not like Hubert Warleigh to leave the wounded man. Stooping for a moment, he raised O’More in his arms, with a violent effort threw him across his shoulder, and marched towards the encampment.
As he half turned in the effort, the savage raised himself to his full height, and, poising a spear, stood for a moment as if uncertain whether he should expend its force upon the old stock-rider and his dogs or against his white antagonist.
At that moment a yell from the main body of blacks showed that they had been forced to retreat. He was therefore separated from his companions, towards whom the wary stock-rider was advancing with a view of cutting him off.
‘Look out!’ shouted the old man to Hubert, as he marked the savage take sudden aim. ‘By——! he’ll nail you!’