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

One Will Notice The Change, For, Believe Me, We All Sympathize Too

Deeply In Your Misfortunes To Feel Aught But Pity."

"As For Myself," Replied Nancy, Promptly, "I Shall Feel Extremely

Obliged, For I Have Worn Damp Garments So Long That I Am Almost Like A

Mermaid. But This Poor Thing," Pointing To Betsey, "Only Desires To Lay

Her Aching Head Upon A Pillow, And Forget Her Misery."

"Haven't Got One In The House," Promptly Responded Poll.

"She Needs Food. Let Her Come To The Table After You Have Made Such

Alterations As Are Necessary."

"So Do I," Croaked The Bird.

"If You Will Have A Cup Of Tea Made, I Am Confident That It Will Benefit

Her More Than Food. As For Myself, I Don't Fear To Confess That I Am

Hungry, And Shall Eat Heartily," Nancy Said.

"Of Bushrangers?" Roared Poll, Who Seemed To Be Undecided How To Class

The Ladies Of Our Party, Never Having Seen A Woman In That Part Of The

Country.

"The Tea Shall Be Prepared, And By The Time You Have Changed Your

Clothes Supper Will Be Ready. Jackson, Give Me A Candle, And I Will Show

The Ladies Into The West Room, Where They Can Be As Secluded As Though

In Their Own House;" And It Was Admirable To See The Hearty Farmer Bow,

And Precede The Females Up The Wide, Hard Wood Stairs, Displaying As

Much Gallantry And Care For Their Comfort As Though He Was To Marry One

Of Them Next Day.

"Good Night, Master," Shrieked The Mischievous Bird, Bringing A Red

Flush To Mr. Wright's Face.

"I'm Coming Back To Punish You For Your Impudence, Sir," Our Host Said,

Shaking His Finger At The Bird.

"Don't Hurry Yourself. D----N Bushrangers--Where's The D----N

Bushrangers?" And As Mr. Wright Disappeared From View, The Bird Turned

Its Attention To Other Topics, And After Surveying Us With Commendable

Attention, Croaked Out,--

"Give Me Bread; Poll's Hungry."

"And So Am I," Mr. Brown Answered, Making An Attempt To Stroke The

Bird's Head, But The Familiarity Was Rebuked By A Vigorous Peck, That

Almost Started The Skin.

"You Little Devil, What Do You Mean?" My Friend Said, Almost Angry.

"That's Right; Swear And D----N! Where's The Women? I Love Women! I

Should Like To Hug One."

"You Vulgar Little Brute! Where Did You Learn Your Bad Manners?" I

Asked.

"Mike, Mike, Mike."

"Well, Mike Might Be In Better Business. You Have Got Some Queer

Crotchets In Your Head That Are Hardly Suitable For A Ladies Boudoir,

Especially If She Expected Gentlemen Visitors," And Mr. Brown Surveyed

The Talented Bird With Considerable Admiration, Although He Kept At A

Respectful Distance.

Jackson Now Made His Appearance, And Began To Lay The Dishes For Supper,

First Driving The Laborers Into Their Own Sitting Room, Where They

Surrounded The Bushrangers, And, I Am Sorry To Say, Did Not Treat Them

Exactly As Prisoners Should Have Been Used.

Left Together, Mr. Brown And Myself Superintended Jackson, And Wished

For Supper, So That We Could Get A Few Hours' Sleep Before Daylight.

There Are Moments When The Hardest Hearts Are Softened With A Feeling

Akin To Pity For Criminals; And Although I Thought That I Had Got Pretty

Well Toughened To All Sentiments Of The Kind, Yet I Must Confess That

While I Looked At The Imprisoned Bushrangers. I Wished Them Upon The

Very Summit Of Mount Tarrengower, And Compelled To Remain There Amid

Snow And Storm, Until All Their Wickedness Was Washed Away, And Their

Past Sins Were Forgiven.

I Was More Inclined To Feel As I Did From The Fact That The Farm Hands

Were Encircling The Poor Devils, And Criticising And Abusing Them

Without Mercy. I Hate To See A Fallen Enemy Ill Treated. I Always

Thought That It Was More Noble To Treat A Fallen Foe With Some Slight

Show Of Respect, But That Standard Was Not Thought Of By The Laborers.

At Last, One Man, Carried Away By His Feelings, Deliberately Spat Into

The Face Of Old Bill, And The Act Was Hailed With Shouts Of Applause And

Laughter. The Bushranger Was Unable To Remove The Indignity, And It

Remained Upon His Grizzly Countenance, A Dirty Monument Of Reproach To

His Tormentors. I Saw The Old Robber's Eyes Flash Fire, And I Could

Imagine His Feelings While Standing There With Bound Arms, Powerless.

"Can't You Interfere, And Prevent So Disgraceful A Recurrence?" I Asked

Of Mr. Brown; But That Gentleman Thought That It Was Best To Wait Until

Mr. Wright Made His Appearance, And Get Him To Check The Abuses.

I Thought So Myself For A Few Minutes, But When I Found That One

Individual In The Crowd Was Disposed To Add Cruelty To His Insults, I

Could No Longer Remain Silent.

Mike Had Told The Men The Method Which He Took To Get The Bushrangers To

Cross The Creek, And Now One Fellow, Whom I Noticed Was Foremost In The

Disgraceful Proceedings, Was Testing The Most Tender Portion Of Their

Bodies By The Aid Of A Sharp-Pointed Knife; And Although The Robbers

Uttered No Complaints Or Groans, I Saw That They Were Suffering, And

That It Was Time To Interfere.

"These Men Are Prisoners," I Said, Urging My Way Through The Crowd Until

I Stood Before The Robbers And Their Tormentors. "Let Them Receive Good

Treatment, For We May Desire It Ourselves Some Day."

The Laborer Whom I Addressed Paid Not The Slightest Attention To My

Words, But Continued To Prick The Prisoners With His Knife As If He

Enjoyed It. Old Bill Had Uttered A Few Savage Oaths In Remonstrance, But

They Were Unheeded.

"Excuse Me For Interfering In Your Sport, My Man," I Continued, Laying

One Hand On His Shoulder, "But You Will Gratify Me If You Desist."

"What Is It To You?" He Demanded, Rudely; And I Noticed That There Was

An Uncommon Stillness In The Room, And Many Anxious Glances Were Cast

Towards Me, Which Convinced Me That I Was Dealing With The Bully Of The

Farm, And A Man Whom They All Feared, And I Fancied Disliked.

"Excuse Me For Interrupting You, But I Think That I Have A Right To. I

Assisted To Capture The Men, And Therefore Have A Voice In Relation To

Their Disposal."

I Was Perfectly Cool And Collected While Speaking, For I Did Not Intend

That The Fellow Should Get The Advantage Of Me By Displaying Passion.

"Your Voice Is Of No Account Here In This House, So You Will Just Take

Yourself Off, And Go To The Devil, If You Wish."

"I Have No Desire To See Your Relations, So I Shall Do No Such Thing. I

Have A Right To Be In The House, And I Have Authority To Ask You To

Desist From Ill Treating These Men. If You Do Not, I Shall--"

"What?" The Bully Asked, Thrusting His Face Close To Mine, And Leering

Most Insultingly.

"Make You," I Answered, Decidedly.

"You Will?" He Demanded, With A Malignant Look.

"I Shall Do My Best," I Replied.

The Bully Did Not Utter A Word In Reply, But He Put The Point Of His

Knife To A Bushranger's Arm, And Pressed So Hard That The Prisoner

Uttered A Half Suppressed Cry Of Pain.

"You See!" The Fellow Exclaimed, Turning To Me. "Now, What Are You Going

To Do About It?"

I Saw That Mr. Brown And Every Person In The Room Were Watching My

Motions With Considerable Curiosity, And That I Should Be Disgraced If I

Retreated From My Unpleasant Position. The Quarrel Was Not Serious

Enough To Use My Weapons, Although I Was Not Blind To The Fact That The

Bully Had A Knife In His Hand, And Looked Like A Fellow Who Would Not

Scruple To Use It.

There Was But One Course For Me To Pursue--So, No Sooner Had He Proposed

His Question Than I Raised My Arm And Struck Him A Blow Between His Eyes

That Caused A Stream Of Claret To Spurt Out, And Sent The Bully Reeling

Backwards To The Further End Of The Room.

"Good!" Cried A Dozen Voices, And I Heard Mr. Brown's Deep Bass Foremost

In The Exclamation.

"Take Care," Shouted The Crowd; "He's Got A Knife, And Will Use It."

The Warning Came None Too Soon, For Suddenly The Crowd Opened To The

Right And Left, And I Caught Sight Of The Bully, With Bloody Face And

Inflamed Eyes, Rushing Towards Me.

There Was No Time To Draw My Revolver, Or Even My Knife, For Before I

Could Lay My Hand Upon Either The Fellow Was Within Three Feet Of Me,

With Uplifted Hand. I Stood Firm, And When I Saw The Weapon Descending,

Like Lightning I Sprang Aside. The Point Of The Knife Touched The Barrel

A Pleasant Ride We Had That Afternoon, Reviewing Flocks And Growing

Crops, And Discoursing On The Best Mode Of Cultivation. I Found That Our

Host Preferred The Heavy Tools Of English Farmers, To The Light, Easily

Managed Instruments Of The Americans, And I Took Occasion To Point Out

The Superior Advantages Which The Latter Possessed; But Mr. Wright Was

Incredulous, And Suspicious Of My Innovations. His Land Was Level, And

Free From Stones, And Just Suited For Light American Ploughs, And I

Pledged My Word That A Third More Work Could Be Done With One, Drawn By

A Yoke Of Oxen, Than Could Be Performed By An English Made Plough, A

Huge, Clumsy Thing, Drawn By Two Span Of Horses, And Requiring Three Men

To Attend Upon Its Wants.

I Exacted A Promise From Mr. Wright, That He Would Give An American

Plough A Fair Trial;