The Gold Hunter's Adventures Or, Life In Australia Volume 2 ( Of 2 ) by William H. Thomes (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📕

Apparently Pleased With The Thought.

"Why So?" I Asked.

"Because The Loddon Will Be Impassable, And Resemble No More The Quiet

River Such As You Saw To-Day Than To-Morrow Morning Will Resemble The

Present Moment. But Come, Let Us Return To The Table, And Have Our

Coffee And Pipes; Cigars I Have, If You Prefer Them."

But No One Desired Them, For After Once Getting Acclimated To Pipes,

Cigars Are Of A Secondary Consideration.

We Again Took Seats At The Table, And Lighting Our Pipes, Sipped Some Of

The Excellent Coffee At Our Leisure, And While The Storm Raged Without,

We Talked And Chatted Of The Past With As Much Freedom As Though We Had

Been Friends All Our Lifetime.

Lights Were Brought, And The Heavy Window Shutters Closed, And We Drew

Our Chairs Nearer To Each Other As The Wind Howled Around The Stout

Building, And The Lightning Played In The Air With Extraordinary

Vividness As The Darkness Increased.

"This Storm Will Soon Extinguish The Fire In The Brush," Mr. Wright

Said, "And I Shall Not Be Sorry To Know That My Wheat Is No Longer In

Danger Of Being Consumed By Fierce Flames, Instead Of Hungry Men. Ah,

Well, I Have Seen Many Fires Raging Since I Settled On The Thousand

Acres That I Own, But Somehow I Have Escaped Much Injury, Excepting

Once."

"Let Us Hear The Particulars; A Story Will Suit Me Above All Things At

This Time," I Said.

"There Is Not Much Of A Story Connected With The Matter, And I'm A Poor

Hand At A Yarn, But Such As It Is You Shall Have."

He Touched A Bell, And His Attendant Entered As Promptly As Though

Serving In A First Class Hotel, And Had Been Trained To The Business All

His Lifetime.

"Is The Punch Ready?" Asked Our Host.

"Yes, Sir."

"Bring It In, Then, And Clear The Table Of Dishes."

A Bowl Holding About A Gallon Was Placed Upon The Table, And The Fumes

Of The Santa Cruz Rum Were Grateful To Our Nostrils. Mr. Brown Rubbed

His Hands With Glee, And Was Impatient To Begin The Attack.

"Give The Men A Stiff Glass Of Grog All Round, And When I Want You I

Will Ring," Said Mr. Wright To The Servant.

The Man Bowed, And Left The Room To Make The Hearts Of The Laborers

Happy By Announcing The Gift.

Mr. Wright Filled His Glass And Was About To Commence His Story, After

Wetting His Lips With The Punch, When Jackson Suddenly Entered The Room.

"Well?" Asked Mr. Wright, With Some Surprise.

"Kala And Iala Have Returned, And Desire To See You Immediately, Sir."

"What Is The Matter?" Asked Our Host, With Visible Uneasiness.

"They Have Seen Footprints In The Bush, Sir," Was The Brief Rejoinder.

"The Devil They Have. Let Them Come In And Report." And While Jackson

Was Absent Mr. Wright Remained In A Thoughtful Mood.

Jackson Was Absent About Five Minutes, When He Returned, Ushering In Two

Natives Of Australia, Whose Names Were Kala And Iala. They Were

Bareheaded, And The Water Was Running Down Their Necks In Miniature

Streams, While Their Long, Straight Hair Hung Over Their Shoulders And

Faces, Almost Concealing Their Deep-Set, Large, Piercing Eyes, Which

Were Fixed Upon Us In Amazement. Their Legs And Arms Were Bare, And Did

Not Look Larger Than Those Of A Child, While Their Long, Bony Feet Were

Entirely Unprotected By Shoes Or Sandals, Yet They Were So Hardened That

The Tooth Of A Serpent Would Have Broken In An Attempt To Bite Through

The Skin.

"Well, Kala, What News?" Asked Mr. Wright Of The Native Who Appeared To

Be The Spokesman. He Spoke In The Language Of The Australians, But As

The Reader Is Not Supposed To Understand It I Shall Interpret It, As Mr.

Wright Did For Us.

"We Have Been In The Bush," Was The Brief Rejoinder.

"And What Did You See?" Was Asked.

"We Go Many Miles From Here On The Trail Leading To The Big Village,"

Kala Said.

"Go On."

"We See Many Tracks, And We Followed Them."

"In Which Direction?" Demanded Mr. Wright, Eagerly.

"Come This Way," The Native Said.

"Did You See The People?" Asked Our Host.

"How Many?"

"Six," Kala Answered, Holding Up One Of His Fingers.

"Bushrangers?" Our Host Continued.

At This Question The Two Natives Seemed Puzzled, And They Looked At Each

Other As Though Wondering What Answer They Should Return.

"Two Of Them Were Not Men," At Length The Native Said.

"Boys?" Suggested Mr. Wright.

The Faintest Shadow Of A Smile Stole Over Their Faces As Kala Replied,--

"No Boys. Wear Things Like Shirt Round Legs, And Funny Hats On Heads."

"Why, Darn It, The Rascals Mean Women," Cried Our Host, With Some Energy

And Considerable Relief.

"Yes," Was The Prompt Reply Of Kala.

"They Won't Hurt You, Man, Unless They Happen To Fall In Love With Your

Black Skin And Marry You. Then I'd Not Be Responsible For Your Head."

"Men Have Long Guns, And Little Guns In Belts," Continued Kala.

"Pooh!" Said Mr. Wright, Turning To Us And Refilling Our Glasses, "The

Poor Fellows Have Got Frightened At Their Shadows. They Have Seen A

Small Party Of Miners On Their Way To Ballarat, And It's Probable That

They Have Missed The Direct Road And Got On One Of The Numerous Trails

Which Sometimes Puzzle The Best Stockmen. They Will Find Their Way Out

After A Fashion, Although This Is Rather A Hard Night For Exposing

Females. You Can Go," He Said, Addressing The Two Natives, But The Men

Still Lingered As Though Not Satisfied With Their Visit.

"Miners No Kill Children," Kala Exclaimed, Briefly.

"How? Who Has Killed Children?" Demanded Mr. Wright, Setting His Glass

Upon The Table, Its Contents Untouched.

Mr. Brown Pricked Up His Ears And Listened, For He Had A Slight

Knowledge, Of The Aboriginal Language, And Understood A Portion Of The

Conversation.

"Men Take Child And Throw Against A Tree. No Cry More," Kala Said.

"The Brutes!" Muttered Mr. Wright, Struck With Consternation At The

Atrocity Of The Deed.

"Four Men, Two Women," Continued Kala, Holding Up His Fingers For Us To

Count. "All Come This Way, And Seem In A Hurry. Women Cry, And Men

Swear; Men Make Them Ride On Horses To Go Fast."

"This Is News Indeed," Mr. Wright Said, Turning To Us, "And I Hardly

Know What To Make Of It. Can You Solve The Riddle?" Addressing Mr.

Brown.

"It Is Plain," My Friend Rejoined. "A Party Of Miners Have Been Attacked

By The Bushrangers, And The Latter Are Now Endeavoring To Escape With

Two Women Prisoners. The Fellows Probably Belong To Tyrell's Gang, And

Will Make Towards Mount Tarrengower To Join Him."

The Solution Seemed Probable, And For A Few Moments There Was A Profound

Silence. The Natives Glanced From Face To Face As Though Endeavoring To

Read The Thoughts Of The White Men, Although They Did Not Appear Much

Distressed At The Events Which They Had Related.

"I Pity The Poor Women," Remarked Mr. Wright, At Length. "Their Fate

Will Be A Sad One, And Death A Welcome Release From Their Sufferings."

"Can't You Make An Effort For Their Release?" I Asked, But Our Host

Shook His Head.

"The Night Is Dark And Stormy," He Said, "And It's Impossible To Tell

Where The Party, Is At The Present Time. To-Morrow We May Be Able To Do

Something."

"To-Morrow Will Be Too Late," Replied Mr. Brown. "The Rogues By That

Time Will Have Joined The Main Body Of The Gang, And Will Laugh At Our

Efforts To Dislodge Them From Their Rendezvous On The Mountains."

Still Our Host Did Not Seem Impressed With The Idea That We Could Afford

The Unfortunate Females Relief, Although I Judged That His Disposition

To Do So Was Strong.

"Ask Kala If He Thinks That He Can Find The Fellow's Trail To-Night, And

Promise Him From Me A Pound Of Tobacco And A Bottle Of Rum If He

Succeeds," Mr. Brown Said, Addressing Mr. Wright.

The Message Was Conveyed To The Natives, And Kala's Eyes Sparkled At The

Idea Of Gaining The Promised Luxuries, But Iala Did Not Seem So

Enthusiastic, Owing To His Name Not Being Mentioned In Connection With

The Presents.

"Tell Iala From Me," I Exclaimed, "That He, Too, Shall Have A Pound Of

Tobacco And A Bottle Of Rum Like His Brother If He Succeeds."

The Look Of Displeasure Disappeared From The Dark Face Of The Native As

He Heard The Offer, And He Displayed His Sharp, White Teeth In Token Of

Approval.

"The Men Go By The Old Trail Through The Forest. They Will Not Trust The

New Road Leading To The House For Fear Of Meeting Our People. The Trail

Is Much Longer, But Safer. After They Get Through The Woods They Will

Have To Cross A Mud Creek. The Horses Will Refuse To Enter The Water,

And Considerable Time Will Elapse Before They Can Be Got Across. If We

Can Meet Them At The Creek There Is No Escape For Them."

Such Were The Expressions Of Kala, Uttered Slow And Distinct, As Though

He Was Weighing Each Word, And Knew The Importance Of Good Counsel. We

Had Not Much Time To Consider The Matter, For The Native Informed Us

That He And His Brother Had Run With All Their Speed To The House, After

Once Making Sure That The Bushrangers Intended To Take The Trail Instead

Of The Road.

"Well, Gentlemen, What Is Your Opinion On The Subject? Shall We Sally

Forth, Like Knights-Errant Of Old, And Rescue The Women From The

Clutches Of The Devils, Or