“If them are niggers, they’re big ones, my boy, anyhow,” answered Larry, evasively.
A dull, regular, pounding sound was heard, and at length dark forms were seen issuing from the cloud of dust—a few first, and then more and more, resolving themselves into bullocks, black, white, and dun, galloping on and bellowing with might and main. Horsemen appeared on either side, like officers on a parade, and with their long whips, which they kept on cracking like pistol-shots, they kept order among their unruly charge. Shouting and shrieking, they galloped round from the rear to the side to bring back any beast which showed an intention of straying away, their dogs sagaciously rendering them assistance by barking at the heels of the animals, and turning them back into the herd. What with the thunder-like bellowing of the cattle and the tramp of their feet, the shouting of the drivers, the cracking of their whips, the barking of the dogs, the dust from the ground, and the steam from the creatures’ backs, as, lashing their long tails, they tore onwards, jostling each other in their course, their sharp horns lowered for the charge, the approaching herd appeared like some vast army of savage monsters, rushing on to meet their foes in battle. To draw up out of their way was impossible, and the travellers soon found themselves surrounded by the herd; the creatures, however, turned their horns aside, while the shape of their own heads and the width of their backs prevented them from running them into their companions in front or on either side, in spite of the seemingly confused way in which they were hurrying on. The herd had passed, when two of the principal drivers, who, in spite of their rough dress and hair-covered countenances, appeared to be gentlemen, drew up and saluted the Gilpins with “Good day, friends; whither bound?”
“To Warragong, to take charge of the station,” said James.
“I wish you joy,” remarked one of the strangers; “you will have no easy task, I take it. A sad scoundrel has had the management of it for some time, as we know to our cost, having once employed him. I am afraid, also, from the sort of men he always gets about him, that you will have no small trouble with them.” The strangers informed them that they were bound south to the Port Philip district, where there was a great demand for cattle.
As the evening was approaching, the parties agreed to camp together. Fires were lighted, the triangles erected, and the pots were soon boiling, while the quickly made damper was placed under the ashes to bake for the coming meal. None of the party, however, could keep their seats by the fire long, without being often summoned to their feet, and sometimes to their saddles, to drive in the straying bullocks. It seemed as hard work to keep them together when resting as to drive them forward, but neither master nor men were disconcerted; they rushed here and there with shout and song and laughter, till they had brought back the straying cattle, and then they sat down by the fire, or rolled themselves up in their blankets, as if nothing had happened. The Gilpins were sorry to part from their new friends, whose frank, hearty manners had won their regard. The morning meal of tea, damper, and pork having been discussed, they rode off in opposite directions.
“Not pleasant information this, our friends gave us last night,” said Arthur. “What can we do?”
“Wait events,” answered his brother; “forewarned is forearmed. We will keep our knowledge to ourselves, though it will be necessary to advise Green not to trust to any of the men, so as to be led into mischief by them. Perhaps the accounts of their misconduct may have been exaggerated.”
Travelling in Australia has its disagreeables as well as its agreeables: there are heavy rains and fogs and sharp winds in winter; and in summer, scorching blasts and stifling heat, and biting or stinging insects, flying, and crawling, and hopping, and dust and smoke from bush fires and the burning trees, and want, at times, of water; but, notwithstanding these occasional drawbacks, so delightful is the perfect freedom to be enjoyed, the pure, bright atmosphere, and the general healthfulness of the climate, that in the opinion of most people the advantages very greatly preponderate.
The brothers had expected to reach the station in the afternoon, but an accident to the cart caused some delay, and the sun set before it appeared in sight. Their black guide, however, assured them that the intervening country was tolerably level and easy, and that as there were certain woods he knew well, and a river on the other side, they could not miss their way. Accordingly they pushed on, though it became so dark that they began to wish that they had camped at the usual hour. Suddenly, as they reached the confines of a wood, their horses snorted and started, and refused to proceed—those in the cart very nearly upsetting it by turning rapidly round; and, had not Sam caught their heads, they would have galloped off in an opposite direction. Directly afterwards, a bright light burst forth from the wood and a spectacle appeared sufficient to make even a stout heart, with any tendency to superstitious feelings, tremble. From among the trees, just beyond the light, appeared, flitting in and out, some twenty or thirty blanched skeletons, throwing their bony arms and legs with the greatest rapidity into every conceivable attitude. Now they disappeared in the darkness, now again they darted into light; round and round they went, now seeming to sink into the ground, now leaping into the air, and often turning head over heels. All the time not a sound proceeded from the phantom-looking dancers. The Gilpins could scarcely help fancying themselves under some delusion. They rubbed their eyes.
“What is it?” exclaimed Arthur. “Horrible! most horrible! Do you see the skeletons?”