Adventures of Don Lavington: Nolens Volens

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

  NGATI'S GOAL.

  Just as in the case of a dream, a long space of time in the face of aterrible danger seems to pass in what is really but a few moments. Don,in an agony of apprehension, was struggling against the hands which heldhim, when a deep voice whispered in his ear,--

  "My pakeha."

  "Ngati!"

  Don caught the hands in his, and sat up slowly, while the chief awakenedJem in the same manner, and with precisely the same result.

  "Why, I thought it was Mike Bannock trying to smother me," grumbled Jem,sitting up. "What's the matter?"

  "I don't know, Jem. Ngati just woke me in the dark, and--Oh! Ngati!"

  His hands trembled, and a curious feeling of excitement coursed throughhis veins, as at that moment he felt the stock of a gun pressed into hishands, Jem exclaiming the next moment as he too clasped a gun.

  "But there arn't no powder and--Yes, there is."

  Jem ceased speaking, for he had suddenly felt that there was a belt andpouch attached to the gun-barrel, and without another word he slippedthe belt over his shoulder.

  "What do you mean, Ngati?" whispered Don hastily.

  "Go!" was the laconic reply; and in an instant the lad realised that theMaori had partly comprehended his words that evening, had thought outthe full meaning, and then crept silently to the convicts' den, andsecured the arms.

  Don rose excitedly to his feet.

  "The time has come, Jem," he whispered.

  "Yes, and I dursen't shout hooroar!"

  Ngati was already outside, waiting in the starlight; and as Don steppedout quickly with his heart beating and a sense of suffocation at thethroat, he could just make out that the Maori held the third musket, andhad also three spears under his arm.

  He handed one of the latter to each, and then stood listening for a fewmoments with his head bent in the direction of the convicts'resting-place.

  The steam jet hissed, and the vapour rose like a dim spectral form; thewater gurgled and splashed faintly, but there was no other sound, and,going softly in the direction of the opening, Ngati led the way.

  "We must leave it to him, Jem, and go where he takes us," whispered Don.

  "Can't do better," whispered back Jem. "Wait just a moment till I getthis strap o' the gun over my shoulder. It's awkward to carry both gunand spear."

  "Wait till we get farther away, Jem."

  _Crash_! A flash of fire, and a report which echoed like thunder fromthe face of the rocks.

  Jem, in passing the sling of the musket over his head, had let it fallupon the stones with disastrous effect.

  "Run, Mas' Don; never mind me."

  "Are you hurt?"

  "Dunno."

  Jem was in a stooping posture as he spoke, but he rose directly, asthere was a rush heard in the direction of the convicts' lair, andcatching Don's hand they ran off stealthily after Ngati, who hadreturned, and then led the way once more.

  Not a word was spoken, and after the first rush and the scramble andpanting of men making for the rocks, all was very still. Ngati led on,passing in and out among tree and bush, and mass of rock, as if his eyeswere quite accustomed to the darkness, while, big as he was, his barefeet made no more sound than the paws of a cat.

  Both Don and Jem followed as silently as they could, but they could nothelp catching against the various obstacles, and making noises whichproduced a warning "Hssh!" from their leader.

  As they passed on they listened intently for sounds of pursuit, but forawhile there were none; the fact being that at the sound of the shot theconvicts believed that they were attacked, and rushing out, they madefor the mountain. But as no further shots were heard, they grew morebold, and, after waiting listening for awhile, they stole back to theshed that should have been occupied by Don and his friends; where,finding them gone, they hurried into their own place, found that thearms were taken, and, setting up a shout, dashed off in pursuit.

  The shout sent a shiver through Don and Jem, for it sounded terriblynear, and they hurried on close to the heels of Ngati, forgetful for themoment of the fact that they were armed, and their pursuers wereweaponless.

  After a time the sounds from the camp, which had been heard plainly onthe night wind, ceased, and for the first time Don questioned Jem as tohis injury.

  "Where are you hurt, Jem?"

  "Shoulder," said that worthy, laconically.

  "Again?"

  "No; not again."

  "But I mean when the gun went off."

  "In my head, Mas' Don."

  "Ah! We might stop now. Let me bind it up for you."

  "No, no; it don't bleed," replied Jem, gruffly. "I mean hurt inside myhead, 'cause I could be such a stoopid as to let this here gun fall."

  "Then you are not wounded?"

  "Not a bit, my lad; and if you'll stop now, I think I'll try and loadagain."

  But Ngati insisted on pushing on, and kept up a steady walk right southin the direction of the star which had shone in through the doorway.

  It was weary work, for the night was very black beneath the trees, butevery step was taking them farther from their enemies, and though theystopped to listen again and again, they heard no sound of pursuit.

  Morning dawned at last, bringing light to their spirits as well as totheir eyes; and for three days they travelled on due south by mountainand lake, hot spring and glorious valley, now catching a glimpse of thesea, now losing it again.

  Ngati seemed to have some definite object which he could not explain;and when Don tried to question him, the great fellow only laughed andtrudged on.

  They did not fare badly, for fruit, roots, and wild fowl were plentiful,fish could be obtained, and with glorious weather, and the dying out ofthe pain of their wounds, the journey began to be pleasant.

  "There's only one thing I'm afraid of, Mas' Don," said Jem; "and that isthat those convicts will smell us out."

  But as time went on that fear grew less, and just at sunset one evening,as Ngati turned the shoulder of one of the mountains and stood pointing,Don set up a shout which Jem echoed, for there beneath them in a valley,and about a quarter of a mile from the shimmering sea, lay a cluster ofcottages, such as could only have been built by Europeans, and theyrealised now what had been the Maori's thoughts in bringing them there.