breakfast no one who sat down to, and wholives, is ever likely to forget.
Have you ever, reader, been startled on a bright sunshiny summer's dayby a thunder peal? And have you seen the clouds rapidly bank up afterthis and obscure the sky, darkness brooding over the windless landscape,lighted up every moment by the blinding lightning's flash, and gloom anddanger brooding all round, where but a short half hour ago the birdscarolled in sunlight? Then will you be able, in some measure, tounderstand the terribleness of the situation in which an hour or twoafter breakfast the party found themselves, and the awful suddenness ofthe shock that for a time quite paralysed every member of it.
They had left the dismal depths of the forest, and were out on the openpasture land, and nearing Findlayson's house, when Craig and Archie,riding on in front, came upon the well-known bobtailed collie, who wasthe almost constant companion of the squatter. The dog was alive, butdying. There was a terrible spear-gash in his neck. Craig dismountedand knelt beside him. The poor brute knew him, wagged his inch-longtail, licked the hand that caressed him, and almost immediately expired.Craig immediately rode back to the others.
"Do not be alarmed, ladies," he said. "But I fear the worst. There isno smoke in Findlayson's chimney. The black fellows have killed hisdog."
Though both girls grew pale, there were no other signs of fearmanifested by them. If Young Australia could be brave, so could OldEngland.
The men consulted hurriedly, and it was agreed that while Branson andHarry waited with the ladies, Archie and Craig should ride on towardsthe house.
Not a sign of life; no, not one. Signs enough of death though, signsenough of an awful struggle. It was all very plain and simple, thoughall very, very sad and dreadful.
Here in the courtyard lay several dead natives, festering and swelteringin the noonday sun. Here were the boomerangs and spears that had fallenfrom their hands as they dropped never to rise again. Here was the doorbattered and splintered and beaten in with tomahawks, and just inside,in the passage, lay the bodies of Hurricane Bill and poor Findlayson,hacked about almost beyond recognition.
In the rooms all was confusion, every place had been ransacked. Thefurniture, all new and elegant, smashed and riven; the very piano thatthe honest Scot had bought for sake of Elsie had been dissected, and itskeys carried away for ornaments. In an inner room, half-dressed, wereFindlayson's sister and her little Scotch maid, their arms broken, as ifthey had held them up to beseech for mercy from the monsters who hadattacked them. Their arms were broken, and their skulls beaten in,their white night-dresses drenched in blood. There was blood, bloodeverywhere--in curdled streams, in great liver-like gouts, and in darkpools on the floor. In the kitchen were many more bodies of white men(the shepherds), and of the fiends in human form with whom they hadstruggled for their lives.
It was an awful and sickening sight.
No need for Craig or Archie to tell the news when they returned to theothers. Their very silence and sadness told the terrible tale.
Nothing could be done at present, however, in the way of punishing themurderers, who by this time must be far away in their mountainfastnesses.
They must ride back, and at once too, in order to warn the people atBurley and round about of their great danger.
So the return journey was commenced at once. On riding through theforest they had to observe the greatest caution.
Craig was an old Bushman, and knew the ways of the blacks well. Hetrotted on in front. And whenever in any thicket, where an ambush mightpossibly be lurking, he saw no sign of bird or beast, he dismounted and,revolver in hand, examined the place before he permitted the others tocome on.
They got through the forest and out of the gloom at last, and some hoursafterwards dismounted a long way down the creek to water the horses andlet them browse. As for themselves, no one thought of eating. Therewas that feeling of weight at every heart one experiences when firstawakening from some dreadful nightmare.
They talked about the massacre, as they sat under the shadow of a gumtree, almost in whispers; and at the slightest unusual noise the mengrasped their revolvers and listened.
They were just about to resume their journey when the distant sound ofgalloping horses fell on their ears. Their own nags neighed. Allsprang to their feet, and next moment some eight or nine men rode intothe clearing.
Most of them were known to Craig, so he advanced to meet them.
"Ah! I see you know the worst," said the leader.
"Yes," said Craig, "we know."
"We've been to your place. It is all right there with one exception."
"One exception?"
"Yes; it's only the kid--Mr Cooper's little daughter, you know."
"Is she dead?" cried Archie aghast.
"No, sir; that is, it isn't likely. Mr Cooper's black girl left lastnight, and took the child."
"Good heavens! our little Diana! Poor Bob! He will go raving mad!"
"He is mad, sir, or all but, already; but we've left some fellows todefend the station, and taken to the trail as you see."
"Craig," said Archie, "we must go too."
"Well," said the first speaker, "the coast is all clear betwixt here andBurley. Two must return there with the ladies. I advise you to makeyour choice, and lose no time."
It was finally arranged that Branson and one of the newcomers shouldform the escort; and so Archie, Harry, and Craig bade the girls ahurried adieu, and speedily rode away after the men.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
ON THE WAR TRAIL.
Twelve men all told to march against a tribe consisting probably of overa hundred and fifty warriors, armed for the fight, and intoxicated withtheir recent success! It was a rash, an almost mad, venture; but theydid not for one moment dream of drawing back. They would trust to theirown superior skill to beat the enemy; trust to that fortune that sooften favours the brave; trusting--many of them I hope--to that mercifulProvidence who protects the weak, and who, in our greatest hour of need,does not refuse to listen to our pleadings.
They had ridden some little way in silence, when suddenly Archie drewrein.
"Halt, men!" he cried. "Halt for a moment and deliberate. Who is to bethe commander of this little force?"
"Yourself," said Gentleman Craig, lifting his hat. "You are boss ofBurley Farm, and Mr Cooper's dearest friend."
"Hear, hear!" cried several of the others.
"Perhaps it is best," said Archie, after a moment's thoughtful pause,"that I should take the leadership under the circumstances. But, Craig,I choose you as my second in command, and one whose counsel I willrespect and be guided by."
"Thank you," said Craig; "and to begin with, I move we go straight backto Findlayson's farm. We are not too well armed, nor too wellprovisioned."
The proposal was at once adopted, and towards sundown they had once morereached the outlying pastures.
They were dismounting to enter, when the half-naked figure of a blacksuddenly appeared from behind the storehouse.
A gun or two was levelled at him at once.
"Stay," cried Craig. "Do not fire. That is Jacoby, the black stockman,and one of poor Mr Findlayson's chief men. Ha, Jacoby, advance my lad,and tell us all you know."
Jacoby's answer was couched in such unintelligible jargon--a mixture ofBush-English and broad Scotch--that I will not try the reader's patienceby giving it verbatim. He was terribly excited, and looked heartbrokenwith grief. He had but recently come home, having passed "plenty blackfellows" on the road. They had attempted to kill him, but here he was.
"Could he track them?"
"Yes, easily. They had gone away _there_." He pointed north and eastas he spoke.
"This is strange," said Craig. "Men, if what Jacoby tells us becorrect, instead of retreating to their homes in the wilderness, theblacks are doubling round; and if so, it must be their intention tocommit more of their diabolical deeds, so there is no time to be lost."
It was determined first to bury their d
ear friends; and very soon agrave was dug--a huge rough hole, that was all--and in it the murderedwhites were laid side by side.
Rupert repeated the burial-service, or as much of it as he couldremember; then the rude grave was filled, and as the earth fell over thechest of poor old-fashioned Findlayson, and Archie thought of all hisdroll and innocent ways, tears trickled over his face that he made noattempt to hide.
The men hauled the gates of a paddock off its hinges, and piled woodupon that, so that the wandering dingoes, with their friends the rooks,should be baulked in their attempts to gorge upon the dead.
The blacks had evidently commenced to ransack the stores; but for somereason or another had gone and left them mostly untouched.
Here were gunpowder and cartridges in abundance, and many dainty,easily-carried
From Squire to Squatter: A Tale of the Old Land and the New Page 44
