“‘I’m Phelim O’Hara, and this is Little-River-Jack, and my brother Pat. We’ve come up, like the Proosians at Waterloo, rather late in the day; but “better late than never.” You’re Joe Bradfield, that we’ve heard of, and Jerry the Nut that murdered his mate, I suppose. So you’d better go back to the French, and let the allies go their own way. No one’s goen’ to give you away, if your own foolishness doesn’t. We’re on our own ground, so hear reason and clear out. I heard a big lot of police, and Superintendent Gray, of Albany, was on yer track.’
“‘When did you hear that?’
“‘No later than yesterday. And you’re ridin’ straight into their bloomin’ arms, if yer don’t get back the way yer kem’ in. Take a fool’s advice, and get into the ranges again. This country’s too open for your crowd, and you’ll have to do the gully-raker’s racket for a month or two, till the “derry’s” toned down a bit.’
“This apparently reasonable advice seemed to have weight with the troop of highly irregular horse, as, after a short colloquy, they rode back to their companions in charge of the horses, and heading them towards the distant ranges, disappeared shortly from sight.
“‘O’Hara!’ said I, ‘whatever you and your mates may have done in the past—at any rate, as far as I am concerned—is now past and gone. I freely forgive anything that there may have been to forgive, in consequence of your manly conduct to-day. If you will come back with me to the head station, I dare say Mr. Mackenzie can find you something to do in this bad season. Unfortunately, we have only too many vacancies for bushmen like yourselves and Jack Carter.’
“‘We’ll take your word for it, Mr. Bruce,’ said Little-River-Jack; ‘and, if we come to terms, there’ll be no station on the Upper Sturt that’ll lose fewer stock—barrin’ from the season—while we’re to the fore.’
“‘All right,’ said Mackenzie, ‘you’re just the chaps we want this awful season; and, now you’re going straight, each of you will be worth half a dozen ordinary men.’”
The day was still warm, not much change from the 110° in the shade which the sunset-hour had registered, but a gradual coolness commenced to o’erspread the heated landscape. “The stars rush out, at one strike comes the dark,” making an appearance of coolness, to which the abnormal dryness of the air in mid-Australia lends a perceptible relief. Confident of a welcome, and the hospitable reception of a head-station—always superior in comfort to the more casual arrangements of the out-stations—the five horsemen rode steadily forward in peace and amity; Mr. Mackenzie, as knowing every foot of the run, taking the lead with the two O’Haras, while Mr. Bruce and Little-River-Jack followed quietly in the rear.
CHAPTER IX
“‘I’d like to tell you, sir,’ said Carter, ‘how we first got acquainted, me and Mr. Blount, to put him right with you, because I heard a whisper that you thought he must be in with us, in the “cross” butchering line.’