Having stowed our baggage inside the hut, after supper we lay down, where we could find room on the ground; one of the party, however, keeping watch in case the blacks should return, though it was not at all likely they would do that.
Before sunrise the shepherd and his new mate got up to dig a grave for the murdered man, in which we saw him placed before we started. We then, having breakfasted, continued our route, Mr Piatt accompanying us, as, for a couple of miles or so, our roads lay in the same direction. He had come away without his rifle, or arms of any description, excepting his heavy riding-whip, and he declared that they were unnecessary; for the blacks, he said, would never venture to attack a well-mounted man, and as for bushrangers, when there was no booty to be obtained they were not likely to interfere with him. He had ridden about the country in all directions, and except when hunting a kangaroo or emu, he had never had to fire a shot.
“But with a mob of savage blacks in the neighbourhood, it would be more prudent to be armed,” I observed.
“My horse-whip will soon send them to the rightabout, should any of them venture to come near me,” he answered laughing. “However we have got half a dozen rifles at the head station, and as soon as I get back I’ll arm each man and we’ll quickly drive the remainder of the mob from the neighbourhood. Depend upon it if any are remaining they’ll clear out fast enough when they find we are after them.”
We soon got over the two miles the overseer was to accompany us. He then, thanking us for the service we had rendered his people, turned off to the right. He was still in sight, when we heard him shout, and I saw that he was galloping along with uplifted whip as if to strike some object on the ground. Supposing that he had called us, we rode towards him. Just then I saw a tall black man spring up from behind a bush and, with axe in hand, attack the overseer, who, it appeared to me, was in great danger of being killed; but as the savage was about to strike, the lash of the whip caught his arm and wrenched the weapon out of his hand.
The black, uttering a cry of disappointed rage, bounded away and a moment after was lost to sight among the scrub. On getting near to Piatt we saw two more natives on the ground, the one a youth badly wounded, the other a gin, old and wrinkled, apparently the mother of the lad.
“I would not have attempted to strike them, had I seen that one was a woman and that the lad was wounded,” said the overseer, as he pointed to the wretched beings; “but I fancied they were black fellows hiding away, and trying to escape my notice. The man who attacked me is probably the boy’s father, and they have shown more than usual affection for their son.”
“Don’t you think that we could do something for the poor lad?” observed Bracewell. “Mr Kimber will see what chance there is of his recovery.”
“With all the pleasure in the world,” said the dominie, dismounting, and he and Bracewell examined the lad’s hurt.
The gin sat watching their proceedings.