The news seemed to have a good effect, and now that he had come to himself, he quickly, with our assistance, was able to get up the cliff, when we helped him along.
In a short time we joined Hector, who had caught the horses driven up to him by the black.
We immediately mounted, and Hector taking charge of one prisoner, and Guy of the other, I attended to the dominie. We expected that our black guide would have kept up with the horses, but when he found the rate at which we went, he appeared to have had enough of our society, and, suddenly bolting off into the bush, disappeared.
“It is the way of those black fellows,” observed Hector. “He has obtained more than he expected, and has no fancy to be shot by the bushrangers, should we encounter them; probably, also, he wants to join his gins, who, I dare say, are not far off, though they have kept out of our sight.”
We rode on, when the ground was level breaking into a gallop. The dominie now and then groaned, but when I offered to pull up, he always answered—
“Go on, go on; perhaps those villains will be watching for us; I don’t want to be stuck up again or shot.”
When I observed that they had only pistols, he answered—
“Ah, well! pistols will kill as well as rifles, and we don’t know at what moment they may pounce out from this thick scrub.”
As I thought it possible that they might make an attempt to surprise us, I was not sorry to follow the dominie’s wishes.
We made such good way that I hoped we should reach Bracewell’s before sundown. Late in the day, I began to recognise spots we had passed while staying with him, although so great is the sameness of the country, that I could not feel very certain that such was the case, until I heard Guy, who was ahead, sing out—