The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 138

ARRIVAL AT MR. WRIGHT'S STATION.

A love of excitement was the key to Mr. Wright's secret for remaining on his farm and cultivating it, while danger attended him at every step that he took, unless surrounded by a body guard of laborers. Yet he neglected no precaution to insure his safety, and those under his charge; and for this purpose he had two natives of Australia attached to his farm, and their duty consisted in watching for the footsteps of strangers, and following their trail until satisfied that no wrong was intended; or, if danger threatened, the occupants of the farm could be prepared to meet it from the timely warning of the industrious blacks. I think that I have before spoken of the ability of the Australian to follow a trail with the fidelity of a bloodhound--no matter how light the step or what kind of ground is pa.s.sed over, the native is never at fault, or thrown off the scent; and even if a dozen men attempt to deceive him, he picks out the footsteps of the person he is in pursuit of, and knows an enemy from a friend.

Their tact and knowledge in this respect is marvellous, and is only equalled by their skill at throwing the boomerang,--a curved piece of wood, measuring from twenty inches to three feet in length.

As I listened to Day's description of the farmer of the Lodden, and his means of repelling attacks, and precaution against surprise, I no longer regretted the dangers of the excursion and its hardships. I longed to see a farmer of Australia, and learn his method of planting, and what kind of tools he used, and all the information which I hoped would be interesting to my agricultural friends in this country. I forgot that I was not clothed in exactly the kind of costume that would insure me a warm reception, and I forgot that the farmers of Victoria, as a general thing, are as aristocratic in feeling as the gentlemanly farmers of England.

I could have wished for a white shirt and a decent riding costume; but as I was dest.i.tute of those luxuries, I determined to appear like an American gentleman, even if I didn't look like one.

As for Mr. Brown, he manifested the most profound contempt for clothing when I hinted the matter to him, and concluded by expressing a hope that if Mr. Wright didn't like our personal appearance he wouldn't look at us, which I considered only just and reasonable, although, as a general thing, I prefer open hostility to quiet contempt.

In about two hours time we gained the banks of the Loddon, and quenched our thirst with its pure water, and then followed the stream along for a number of miles until we began to approach signs of cultivation, when we struck a very good road that apparently had been used for the carting of water to the farm house. In a short time we came in view of an immense field of wheat, ripe and ready for reaping, but without a fence or hedge to guard it against the depredations of animals, although, as far as I could judge, the grain had not suffered in that respect.

Still, we met with no one connected with the farm; a circ.u.mstance that gave Day some uneasiness, for he was continually urging us to be cautious how we moved along, and to check our horses the instant a word was addressed to us.

"It's all very well for you coveys to pretend that you don't care, but if a few bullets should happen to fly this way and knock you off your horses, what satisfaction would there be in letting the coveys know that they had made a mistake. Recollect, you don't look over genteel."

We calmed the shepherd with a.s.surances that we would be extremely careful, and continued onward, and when we least expected it, a sudden rounding of the road freed us from the trees which grew upon the banks of the Loddon, and we emerged upon an open s.p.a.ce containing about sixty acres, and in the middle of the vast square was the farm house belonging to Mr. Wright. It was quite a respectable building, two stories high, with flat roof, and constructed entirely of rough logs, yet fitted together with considerable pretensions to skill and nicety.

On the roof, to keep out the rain, and to prevent the bushrangers or natives from setting fire with burning arrows, was dirt about a foot deep, and sodded over with turf. The body of the building, we could see, was full of loopholes, and commanded every approach, and there was no tree or outhouse sufficiently near to interfere with this arrangement, or any unequal ground which a foe could take advantage of.

At some distance to the left of the castle, as Mr. Brown facetiously called it, were three immense pens, one filled with sheep, and the others with horses and other animals, and I judged there were as many dogs on the outside of the pens as there were rams on the inside, for the instant we appeared in sight we were greeted with such frightfully discordant yelling and barking that I began to fancy we must indeed present a woeful spectacle, or we never should be saluted by such vindictive sounds. Still, not a shadow of a human being did we discover, and I began to think that the bushrangers had made a descent, murdered those connected with the farm, and then escaped, when I was suddenly convinced of my error by hearing the report of a musket, and an ounce ball whizzed by my head and struck the ground about ten rods in the rear of us.

"That says, stop where you are, plain enough," remarked Day, checking his horse; an example which we were not slow in following.

"But if we remain here we shall get no supper," I remarked.

"That is the truest word that you ever uttered," cried Mr. Brown, with a grin, at our predicament.

"Will you go forward, Day, and let Mr. Wright know that we are friends?"

I asked; but the shepherd shook his head, and declined, and manifested a willingness to retreat from the neighborhood of the house, although I will do him the justice of stating that he showed no signs of fear.

"Look at the cowards at the windows of the house," cried Mr. Brown; and sure enough, the inmates of the building had thrown open the iron shutters, and were gazing at us with some curiosity, although I noticed that each man held a musket in his hand for fear of surprise.

"I wouldn't refuse to speak with all the bushrangers in Australia, if I had a fortress like that to retreat into," muttered Mr. Brown, with a smile of contempt.

"Let us cross the Lodden, and find the Hawkswood station," suggested Day, "I'll warrant that we shall get something to eat, and perhaps a drink of rum there. I've had a taste of the hospitality of that place more than once."

I was almost resolved to follow the advice, but a look at the heavens convinced me that we should have rain before many hours, owing, probably, to the fire which was raging at a distance, as fiercely as ever, and night was nearly upon us. Besides, I began to feel really exhausted for the want of food and rest, and I was fearful that if Day should miss the trail we might wander about until daylight, and still be some distance from the place we were in search of.

With these opinions I combated both Mr. Brown and Day, and made an impression, for the former exclaimed pettishly, that if I was desirous of remaining, I might devise some way of giving Mr. Wright and his numerous proteges intelligence of our honesty. The task was a difficult one, but I scorned to be at a loss for expedients.

In the bosom of my shirt I had a handkerchief, made of India silk, and of a yellow color, but at a short distance it appeared white, and I thought it would answer for a flag of truce. Therefore, before my companions were aware of my intention, I flourished the handkerchief over my head, and galloped at a moderate pace towards the house, expecting every moment that I should get a shot for my recklessness, but I intended, if there was any firing, to wait until the farmers were satisfied that I meant honestly, provided, of course, I escaped getting hit, of which I was in some fear, I must confess.

Luckily for my safety, Mr. Brown and Day remained where I left them, and were watching my movements with some curiosity, and considerable anxiety. Had they advanced towards the house at the same moment as myself, we should all have bitten the dust, and rich pickings the stockmen would have had emptying our pockets, and boasting of their exploits in shooting three men with but a single effective revolver to defend themselves.

On I galloped, waving my handkerchief in token of friendship, and exciting dismal howls from the canine brutes, whom I expected every moment would desert their flocks and attack me, but I afterwards understood that the dogs were so well trained that no amount of temptation could induce them from their charges. Had it been otherwise, my gallant horse would have had to put his speed to good account, tired as he was.

When within three rods of the house, I halted, and prepared for a parley with the garrison, and I was the more ready to commence it, from the simple circ.u.mstance of seeing about a dozen old muskets pointed at me, and the holders of the same glancing along the barrels, as though meaning mischief.

"Can you give me and my friends supper and lodgings to-night?" I asked, addressing the crowd, seeing no one that I supposed was in authority.

"Go away wid ye, ye thaves and murderers," cried a voice, "rich with brogue," and I could not help laughing in the fellow's face at the answer.

"We will pay you well for our entertainment," I continued, after I had sufficiently recovered my composure.

"Will ye lave, yer blackguard?" demanded the first speaker, shaking his old gun at me, and motioning for me to depart as soon as possible.

"We have been without food all day," I continued, "and, after escaping the dangers of the burning plains, it seems hard to be driven away from a Christian's door like dogs."

"It's a pity, so it is, that ye wasn't consumed in that same fire. Away wid ye, and don't bother honest people like us. Ye can't come in here, and that's flat."

"I suppose that you imagine we are bushrangers," I said; "in that you are mistaken. We have just escaped from a gang."

"Thin ye had better 'scape back agin, as fast as yer two legs will carry ye," cried the Irishman.

"It's the first time that I ever knew a native of the Emerald Isle to refuse a stranger a crust of bread or a drop of water," I continued, resolved to try what virtue there was in flattery.

"Will yer save yer blarney?" demanded the fellow, again levelling his gun in my direction, a proceeding that I did not thank him for, although I did not manifest alarm.

"Go to the devil!" I cried, thoroughly out of patience, "and send your master to me."

"O, holy St. Patrick! only hear him! He calls me master the devil, and thinks I won't resent the insult. Look out for yer eye, for by the piper that played before Moses, I'll bore yer through and through!"

I believe the fellow would have kept his word, and I was just about to show them my horse's heels, when I heard a man speak in a tone of authority,--

"Up with your guns, and don't make fools of yourselves by shooting an unarmed man."

In obedience to the order the guns were lowered, and a number of the men fell back from the window, and allowed me to get a glimpse of the person whom I supposed to be Mr. Wright. He was a tall, well-built man, with broad shoulders, and a face entirely English, covered with sandy whiskers.

"Who are you?" he asked, with the bluffness and arrogance of a native of Great Britain.

"A man," I replied.

"I have your word for that, but I require better evidence."

"What better evidence do you require?" I demanded.

He did not notice the remark, but continued,--

"I see many people every week, and although they have the form of men, they are villains."

"The more reason why you should treat honest people with courtesy when chance brings them this way," I replied.

"Hear the feller's blarney," muttered the Irishman.

"Silence," said Mr. Wright, and the command was obeyed.