Eager as the dominie was to get on, not being a first-rate horseman he went even slower than was necessary. We were passing through a thickish part of the forest, when, reining in his steed, he whispered to me in a tremulous voice—“Pull up, pray do, I hear the tramp of horses’ feet. Suppose they should be bushrangers, they might shoot us down before we had time to escape.”
I reined in my steed to listen for the sounds which his sensitive ear had detected. “They may be simply wild cattle, or riderless horses, taking a scamper,” I observed, laughing.
“Oh, no; they don’t move about after dark,” he said; “they must be mounted horses, do let us remain quiet until we ascertain who the people are.”
“They are very likely some of the young Strongs coming out to meet us,” I remarked.
Scarcely had I said this, however, than I caught sight of two horsemen riding across an open glade some distance off. There was sufficient light for me to make out the figures distinctly. One was a big fellow in a rough garb, the other was slighter, and both were armed. Presently afterwards two others came into view, the moonbeams glancing on the barrels of their rifles, showing that they also were armed. I fully expected that they would discover us, and I intended if they did so boldly to ride up and enquire where they were going. They galloped on, however, without perceiving us. As I alone had arms I felt that it would be folly to interfere with them, as we might run the risk of being shot, while we could gain no possible advantage. I therefore remained perfectly quiet, and in another minute they were out of sight. They were going in the direction of Captain Mason’s station. They would be, however, mistaken, I hoped, if they expected to surprise our friends; who had assured me that they kept a watch by night and day, and were well prepared for such gentry.
As soon as they were out of hearing, we rode on; the dominie I saw feeling far from happy, as every now and then he turned his head over his shoulder to assure himself that we were not followed.
The moon, which had now risen high in the sky, afforded us ample light to see our way. As the country became more open, we were able to push on as fast as we could go.
We were to have another adventure. While still some distance from home, the loud lowing of a cow reached our ears. The animal was evidently alarmed at something. Galloping towards it, we found on getting up that she was endeavouring to protect her calf from the attack of a dozen dingoes. Now she would run at one with her sharp horns, now at another, but the moment she had gone in one direction the brutes would assail her helpless young one. They were not even deterred by our approach.
“We must put an end to these dingoes!” I exclaimed. Unstrapping one of my stirrup irons and using it as a weapon, I singled out one of the wild dogs, and succeeded, after several attempts, in giving it a blow on the head which brought it to the ground. I then attacked another, which I treated in the same fashion. The dominie tried to imitate me but very nearly tumbled over on his nose, though he assisted in protecting the calf by driving off the cowardly brutes. The cow at last pinned one to the ground with her horns, and then turning round attacked it with her heels until she well-nigh pounded it into a jelly. At length the survivors took to flight.
“We have killed three at at all events,” remarked the dominie.