Story 3--Chapter VIII.

The next instant he had followed, but receiving a tremendous blow upon the head, he fell heavily to the ground.That blow was given by what should have been a friend’s hand, but it had an effect that Anthony Bray had not intended. The minute before he had been dragging a timid, yielding girl after him. But now, as in the dim light she saw the dastardly act, a feeling of rage filled Katie’s soul; and, tearing herself away, she flung herself upon her knees, lifting the head of Murray gently, and with her handkerchief binding up a severe wound the young man had received.The place they were in was a sort of outhouse, which had been added to the side of the building, but without the window being filled up; and as Murray climbed out, the casement had swung to again; and it was well for the moment, for having beaten down the little remaining resistance, the convicts spread through the place, seizing the arms and ransacking cupboard and drawer; while old Lee, beaten down, wounded, looked on with agonised countenance; but not alone, for his wife clung to him, turning a defiant face upon the destroyers of her home.Two men rushed into the chamber, through which Bray had dragged Katie, and concluding that those of whom they were in search had passed through a door on the other side, they hurried through that, and disappeared, but only to make their way back into the central room.Meanwhile, overcoming his surprise at the fierce way in which Katie resisted him, Bray caught her in his arms, and drew her towards the outhouse door.“Foolish girl! it’s for life and liberty! There, I’m stronger than you,” he cried, “and if I must use force, I will. Come quietly, Katie—come. We can reach the horses—mine is there yet—and fly to safety, away from this scene!”But she struggled fiercely, although the weaker, while he forced her step by step towards the door.“Little fool!” he hoarsely said. “Would you have us both killed?”“Yes, yes, coward,” she cried. “Loose me, or I’ll call for help! Edward! Ned! help me!” she cried loudly; and as he lay just beneath the chamber window, he half raised himself, but only to sink back again with exhaustion.“You’ll have the ruffians upon us, Kate,” hissed Bray; and mad with rage, he tried to lift her from the ground, when she again called out, “Ned! Ned! help me! O, help!”Startled by this sudden outburst, Bray relaxed his hold sufficiently for Katie to tear herself away, and throw herself upon Murray’s prostrate body, to which she clung.But Bray was at her side in an instant, trying again to drag her away, but in vain; when, seizing his rival by the throat, he fiercely whispered in the poor girl’s ear, “Come on, or it will be his death!”“You have killed him now, coward!” cried the girl, vainly tearing at the hand so ruthlessly grasping her lover; when again seizing the opportunity Bray lifted her once more from the floor, and bore her towards the door, but only for there to be a repetition of the fierce struggle; the light, active girl writhing herself free again, calling upon Ned for the help he was powerless to give, he, poor fellow, responding with a groan, as in the shadowy place he could mistily make out what was going on.Tearing herself away, Katie was again by the side of Murray, when the casement above her head was suddenly thrown open, a couple of streams of flame flashed across the place, and, with a loud cry, Bray sprang through the door at the other end. The moonbeams shone in for an instant, showing the wreaths of smoke curling slowly upward, and all was once more darkness, while Katie knelt, hardly daring to breathe; her hand, too, pressed upon Murray’s lips, lest he should moan, and so betray their whereabouts.But the next moment her breath was drawn with a sob, for the window swung-to again, and from the rapid beat of footsteps, it was evident that the men who fired had gone round in pursuit of Bray; but apparently in vain, for they soon returned, stopped before the outhouse door, and looked in; but coming from the outer brightness, they saw nothing but the wreathing smoke; and, closing the door violently, hurried on towards the front of the house, where loud talking, and more than once a weak cry for help, fell upon the ears of the poor girl.Murray had attempted to speak, and then seemed to become inanimate. In her grief, Katie clung to him, calling upon him, in whispers, to speak to her, if but a word, for she felt that he must be dying; and then, forgetful of all but her love, she clasped him fondly, bathing his face with her tears, and kissing him again and again. Then suddenly she started up with affright, for, just above her head, she heard the grating of the casement, as it slowly opened. Then there was a dread pause, broken by the loud talking and quarrelling of the convicts, but a few yards away.Involuntarily she turned her face towards the open window, trying to pierce the darkness—for the moon had sunk behind the shoulder of the mountain, and in the last few minutes all had become black as night. But she could see nothing, only hear the sound of hard breathing, as some one leaned out into the place where she crouched, cold and paralysed, but with her mind in a state of fearful activity.But was it fancy? Had her over-wrought imagination conjured up this new terror? No; it was no fancy, for the window was thrust farther back, and the dread seemed greater than she could bear, as just above her she could feel, as it were, that there was a face stretched out towards her.Story 3--Chapter VIII.Tried by Fire.It might have been but for a few seconds, but the suspense was agonising. Katie felt no fear for herself then: her fear was lest he should be discovered who had been ready to die in her defence—who had been so cruelly smitten down—he to whom, but a few hours before, she had plighted herself, owning to her love, and, for the first time, daring to respond to his kisses. But was it a few hours ago? Was it not years since, or at some time far back in the past, that those happy moments were? Or was this some wild dream—that he, the young, the bright, the true, who had treasured her love for years, and come these thousands of miles to see her—to claim her—was dying in her arms?The stillness around them was awful; the darkness more and more intense. Cold as marble, gazing upwards ever at this invisible terror that she knew was there, would it not be better almost to cry out, she thought, and bring down others, so as to end the harrowing suspense that seemed to madden her?But poor Ned—poor, helpless Ned! If he were not already dead—if he had not even now escaped from the arms that held him so tightly, they would slay him without mercy. No; she must remain silent. Would he move, or even mutter? Her heart gave a bound, for at that moment there was a slight motion in the form she clasped, and this made her turn her head from its strained, unnatural position, so that her cheek fell gently upon Murray’s, and then she clung to him cold and motionless, but with strained ears, as she felt that the time for discovery had come. The casement shook a little; there was a rustling noise, as of some one slowly climbing out; a heavy foot was placed upon her soft, yielding arm, then another, and the pain was sharp, but almost welcome, for it seemed to numb her mental agony. Yet no sigh escaped her lips; she only felt that the time to die had come, and a simple old prayer was being mentally repeated for pardon for those who, if not already cruelly slain, were in deadly peril—for herself and for him she so dearly loved.Then the pressure was removed, there was a staggering step, such as might be that of a wounded man. With closed eyes, and a heavily throbbing heart, she heard a hand run along the wall, the wooden click, the door open and softly close, and then all was silent in the shed.Silence there, but noise and confusion in the house: shouting, and more than one attempt apparently to obtain order, but all heard in a confused way, for a strange, deathly feeling of sickness had come upon the poor girl, her senses were reeling, there was a loud singing noise at her ears, and, though her name seemed to be uttered again and again, yet she could not respond, and soon all was blank.How long that time of utter nothingness lasted, she could not tell; but she woke again to a strange feeling of oppression and misery; her breath came thick and short, and she could not recall where she was. It was as if her intellect had received some fearful stroke which had robbed her of her reflective powers. But thought came suddenly, and she knew all.A bitter sob rose to her lips, and she could have cried for help, but in dread she checked that cry, and her heart beat triumphantly, for a voice, whose breath touched her cheek, whispered her name, and she knew that he lived.“Katie, darling, Katie,” was whispered again—“water!”Water! How could she get it? The spring was on the other side of the house, and the men were in the front; she could hear them still talking loudly over their plunder. If she went, they would seize her. If she appealed to them for help, they would robhimof what little life remained. What could she do? She could do nothing, she told herself despairingly—nothing but wait, and perhaps the wretches would go.But it was not dark now. A dull light seemed to play through the window above their heads, as turning, she knew that it was smoke that she could see; and, starting to her feet, she found that, at the height of her lips, it was so dense that she could not breathe.Was there to be no end to the perils of that fearful night? Was death to come in another and more terrible form? After escaping massacre at the hand of their ruthless enemies, were they to meet death by the lingering torture of fire?The dread of this new alternative roused Katie into action. This was a peril that could be battled with, and they could escape if the men in front would but go. She whispered a few words to Murray, and he answered calmly and sensibly. She told him not to fear.“Only for you,” he murmured; and for a brief moment all was still.Then, starting once more into action, Katie asked him if he could rise, and he tried to do so, but only to fall back despairingly, when, creeping to the door, she softly lifted the latch, and pushed it a little open, so as to breathe once more the pure night air. She dared not open it far, for the voices were loud, and close at hand; but though she could not see the speakers, she could make out the reflection of their work in the bright glow lighting up the palm-like foliage around. And now a fierce, low, crackling noise fell upon her ears, and she crept back hastily to where Murray lay, seized him in her arms, and tried to drag him towards the door, but in vain. She could only move him a few inches at a time, so perfectly helpless was he.“It is of no use, darling,” he whispered. “Go, glide out of the door, and make for the woods; you may escape. I cannot move; pray go; for my sake—for my sake, love!”“Go—go—where?” murmured the trembling girl, as she still tried to move him.“To the woods—hide somewhere—the place is on fire!” he gasped; “and God in heaven give me strength, for I cannot help her!”“Hush, Ned, hush!” she whispered; “we shall be heard. Now try—try once more;” and she dragged at him with all her strength, so that he lay in the middle of the shed.“No, no; I shall only draw you back to destruction,” he faintly said. “Never mind me. Escape, darling. You know the paths, and can hide, or make your way to where you can get help. Don’t stay. Look, look!” he whispered.“I see,” she murmured.And as she spoke, a bright tongue of flame began to lick the shingles of the roof, gilding them with its fierce fiery slaver, till first one and then another began to glow; and sparks and flakes fell from them, illumining the interior of the shed; while soon an opening appeared, through which the flames rushed careering out, the heat the while becoming insupportable.“Katie, dear,” sighed the wounded man, “would you add torture to my death?”“No, no,” she sobbed, as she dragged him nearer the door. “Are we not one?” And she sank exhausted by his side, to lay her face upon his arm. “Ned, my own Ned! pray—pray to heaven that our death may come quickly, and that we may wake soon where there is peace. I can do no more.”As her simple words fell upon his ear, a loud demoniac drunken shout rose from outside, apparently close by the door; and from the trampling, mingled with the roar of the flames, it was evident that the ruffians were taking their departure.Nerving himself for a last effort, Murray half lifted himself into a sitting position, fell back, struggled up again; and Katie rose to her knees.“Try again—again,” he gasped; for he felt that she would not leave him; and together they struggled almost to the door, when, half-suffocated, the young man fell back once more. “Now go; leave me. You can escape yet, Katie,” he gasped. “O, if I had strength!”But for answer he felt the two soft clinging arms round his neck, and a choking voice breathed two words in his ear:“Forever!”But the dread of the impending death seemed to give strength—the strength he had prayed for; and straggling a few inches at a time, with the red-hot embers gathering where they had lain but a few minutes before, and the flames crawling and dancing round the side of the house, Murray, now hardly aided by the fainting girl, contrived to reach the door, with one hand to thrust it back, so that a rush of air darted in, driving from them the smoke, as he uttered a loud cry for help.The cry was heard; and they were seen for an instant ere the cloud of smoke wrapped them again in its folds. Two men darted forward to seize the prize, one of them, however, being daunted by the threatening roof, which, ruddy and golden, seemed ready to fall; while the other seized Katie’s dress in his hands to drag her out; but so tightly did she cling to Murray, that he was drawn forward and half raised before sinking back into the cloud of falling sparks and smoke.Story 3--Chapter IX.Cutting off the Retreat.Old Martin Lee saw with anxious solicitude Edward Murray rush after Bray; then the closing door hid them from his sight; and with renewed energy he clutched his gun, and struck fiercely at the first assailant that presented himself, shivering the stock to pieces, and laying the man motionless at his feet. But the barrel made no insignificant weapon; and he fought, as did Mr Meadows, fiercely, though in vain; the odds were too great, even though they were ably seconded by the shepherds. Through the beaten-down door the convicts rushed; and in a few moments the defenders were trampled under foot, and lay on the now deeply-crimsoned floor, the women being dragged out of the house into the front.Then followed the scene of ruin and confusion previously enacted in the next valley. Food was obtained, the shepherd’s weeping wife being compelled to provide it, and then it was devoured by the red-handed crew. Wine, spirits, all were seized, and a mad debauch ensued; the ruffians, for the most part, having been deprived of such indulgences for years. But, soon satiated, the eager search for arms and ammunition was continued; men loading themselves, too, with much more plunder than they could bear away.As for the dead, they lay unnoticed, the wounded receiving but little better treatment, till at last the moon slowly dipped behind the western ridge of hills, causing a deep shadow to creep along the Gap, and up the opposite slope, when, with an oath at the coming darkness, one ruffian thrust a light against some curtains, which caught fire in an instant. The flame ran up to the dry, boarded ceiling, and in a few minutes it became plain that the settler’s pleasant home must become a heap of ruins.“What are you doing of?” shouted one convict to another, who, regardless of the flames, dragged out two bodies, in which there seemed to be some trace of life. But the man did not answer, and when the other attempted to hinder him, struck the ruffian to the ground in an instant.But the next moment he was on his feet, knife in hand, and sprang at his assailant; but only to go down again, as if the fist that struck the blow had been so much lead.He lay for a few moments, half-stunned, and then rose, slowly muttering, and shaking his head, while the other, in answer, apparently, to the mute appeals of the women, half-dragged, half-carried the wounded men out of reach of the rapidly increasing flames.The man did it, though, in a coarse, rough, brutal way, as if afraid that he might lose caste in the eyes of his companions; and then, after bestowing a contemptuous kick on each, he rejoined his party, loaded himself with such booty as he had secured, and the motley group began to make preparations for returning down the valley.“Here, carry this!” exclaimed a fellow, seizing one of the women by the arm; but she broke from him to dart to one of the prostrate forms, and lift its head into her lap. The ruffian was at her side the next instant, though, trying to drag her away; but as she resisted, he struck her to the ground, and hurried to join the others.Poor Mrs Lee sank to the earth, with a wail of misery, and remained motionless; but the other woman, the shepherd’s wife, took the load pointed out to her, and followed her captors, trembling, and apparently half beside herself.The flames had by this time wrapped the greater part of the house; and the convicts were passing the lean-to, shingle-roofed outbuilding at the end, when there rang forth a wild, despairing cry; and, dropping his load, as his companions were arrested, the same man who had dragged out the wounded, sprang forward and caught Katie in his arms, and bore her senseless from the flames, just as, with a fierce rush, the wind came careering up the valley, and dark clouds began to gather over head, as if betokening a storm.“Now, then; we’ve more than we can carry now!” shouted the one who seemed to be the leader; and then, burdened as they were with plunder and three wounded men who could not walk without assistance, they slowly made their way to the bright little bay where they had left the schooner moored, to find her struggling, as it were, with the wind; and as they came well in sight they saw her break away, and in spite of the efforts of those left on board she ran on the bar at the mouth of the little harbour, where, it being now low water, a tremendous surf was running, the huge waves leaping over her and sweeping the decks in an instant. Twice she seemed lifted as if to be borne clear of the sands, but only to be dashed down again, the masts going at the second shock; and then, as if lightened, she lifted again, seemed to shake herself, and plunged, stern forward, farther on to the sand-bars, to lie rolling and wallowing in the midst of the fierce waters—a hopeless wreck.Ten minutes had been sufficient time to effect the ruin; when seeing their retreat cut off so suddenly, the convicts stood upon the shore, with their ill-gotten booty, staring at one another, and apparently bewildered, till the one who had assumed the leadership promptly gave his orders, which the men sullenly obeyed, and followed him back towards the Moa’s Nest.Story 3--Chapter X.Amid the Ashes.Edward Murray sank back exhausted, as Katie was snatched from his arms; but the desire for life was yet strong in him, and he tried to force his way along, just as the fierce wind sweeping up the valley drove back the flame and smoke from the doorway, giving him again the breath of life, as he was on the point of suffocation. But he was now scorching; and the little sense left told him that his last moments were at hand, when he felt his extended arms seized, and he was forced from the flaming building, to lie almost insensible for a while, till his eyes unclosed upon the tattooed face of Wahika, the savage lying beside him, until the convicts had turned a ridge of the gap. Then, lifting him in his arms, the native bore the young man a hundred yards into the shade of the trees behind the desolated farm, and scooping water in a broad leaf, poured the cold grateful fluid over his scorched face, and gave him some to drink.Then he disappeared, but to return after a short time with the body of the poor old settler—Mrs Lee helping him with his burden—which they laid reverently down; when Wahika again took his departure, to help in one of the shepherds who was much injured, but able to lend some aid.The savage was apparently unhurt, and he busied himself in the dark shadowy dell, where they lay concealed watching the reflection of the fire, by applying cooling leaves to wound and bruise, and bandaging them after the rude surgical fashion of his tribe. He did all, too, in a quiet fashion, with hands as soft and gentle as a woman’s, while the sufferers lay in a stunned, helpless state, hardly seeming to realise the horrors of the past night. For the dawn was fast approaching, and as the glow from the burning building slowly sank, far above their heads upon the icy summit of the mountain appeared the first gilding of the rising sun, making the snowy pinnacles to flash and sparkle in the glorious light of another day.The savage can live where the European would starve; and Wahika soon contrived some food for the three who were in his charge; but when, feeling somewhat revived, Murray would have sought the ruins, Wahika restrained him, laying his hand upon his arm, and listening with bent head and distended nostrils, before gliding silently away to return before many minutes had elapsed, to whisper in his broken English the words, “Come back.”At the same time he pointed down the valley, before helping the wounded shepherd farther back into the little ravine in which they lay, to where the concealment was better; then going forward, once more he crept from tree to tree, till he could peer down from behind a crag, and see the ruffianly crew, trooping back from the bay to the farm, stand in consultation for a few minutes, when one of their number pointing higher up the valley, they resumed their irregular march.But there was a stoppage directly, and some confusion, and the sharp-eyed savage saw that one of the women, whom he soon made out to be Katie, had fallen, and that some arrangements were being made to carry her, when a fresh start was made, the poor girl having sunk down, partly from exhaustion, partly overcome by emotion at the sight which greeted her.Wahika started then, for a few yards below him he heard an agonising exclamation, and he leaped down just in time to throw himself upon Murray, as he was rising to hurry to what must have been instant death.“No good—no good! Stop; and Wahika get tribe to come and—”He stopped; but there was a strange look in his eye as he brandished his club, and then held the young man back amongst the leaves, for his strength was but feeble as compared with that of the savage.“Wahika friend—tribe friends,” he said after awhile, during which they had watched the convicts till they disappeared; and they were then about to return to the little ravine, when a low cry, as of some one in distress, smote upon their ears, apparently from the direction of the smouldering house, for they could not see it from where they stood.There being apparently now no reason for concealment, the convicts being far up in a bend of the Gap, Murray slowly followed the savage down till they could peer through the leaves, when the former uttered a hearty “Thank heaven!” for, kneeling amongst the ashes, his face buried in his hands, and his whole frame shaken by the sobs which burst from his breast, was Mr Meadows, weeping like a child, and uttering disjointed words, as he mourned for the destruction that had come upon this peaceful home.He did not hear their approach, for he was praying so fervently for those whom he had every reason to suppose dead, that Murray had stiffly knelt by his side and touched him ere he started to his feet; but only to kneel again and embrace his wounded companion as though he had been a son.“Thank heaven! thank heaven!” he exclaimed fervently; “I thought you were there,”—and he pointed to the smouldering heap close by. “Has any one else escaped? Two of the women are there,”—and he pointed up the valley.“And one is poor;”—Murray was too weak to overcome his emotion; he could not utter the name.“I feared so—I feared so,” sighed Mr Meadows. “And her mother? Safe? Thank Providence! but let us get away from here; they may come back, and then there will be no mercy. Heaven bless you, my son!” he exclaimed fervently and gratefully to Wahika; for, seeing a gaping wound still bleeding upon the old man’s forehead, he had soaked a piece of native mat in the spring hard by, and begun tenderly to bind it up. “And you are a savage!” muttered Mr Meadows half to himself. “How can I preach to such as you, to leave your simple faith, when your white brethren do such deeds as these? No, no!” he cried; “not brethren, but the outcasts of our civilisation, let loose to raven and destroy. Thanks, thanks, my son; heaven bless you! Let us go now, friend Murray, and see those who are saved.”The distance was but short; but, in pain from their injuries, they proceeded but slowly, Wahika stopping and looking back from time to time till they came up to him.They had to pass the body of poor old Martin Lee; and here Mr Meadows paused, knelt down, took one stiffened hand, kissed it, and then softly replaced it by the old man’s side.“Cut down like the wheat, and gathered into the heavenly garner. A true, blunt, honest Englishman, and a dear friend, Edward Murray.”A tear or two fell upon the face of the inanimate form, as the old minister bent his head over him for a few moments, and then he rose.“He looks at peace, friend Edward. Would that we could have saved him! I am weak now,” he said, wiping his eyes in a simple undisguised fashion; “but I do not see why I should feel ashamed. Let us go on.”It was a sad meeting between the widow and the clergyman; but there seemed no time for tears. Katie was in the hands of the convicts, and how was she to be saved?There was little said that the savage could not comprehend, though he was not so ready at expressing himself; but he said simply, and with an earnestness which bespoke his feeling.“Wahika go fetch bright flower back; but Wahika only one—men kill, and bright flower of Moa’s Nest not saved.”“Yes,” said Mr Meadows, “it would be madness to go alone; we must have help and strength. You, Edward Murray, must seek friends in one direction; and, with heaven’s help, I will see poor Lee’s wife into safety, and bring friends from elsewhere to fall upon the rear of these Philistines. Perhaps, too, our dark friend can bring up some aid. Which way will you go, Murray?”The young man gazed almost reproachfully in his face for a few moments; and then pointed up the valley, in the direction taken by the convicts.Mr Meadows then turned to Wahika.“And which way go you, friend?”“Wahika go with white friend here,” was the reply.“Almost too daring to be of any avail,” mused Mr Meadows. “Then it is to me alone falls the task of bringing up help.”They stayed that day in the little ravine, trying to recruit their strength. There was but little difficulty in securing some provisions, for the convicts had been prodigal in the midst of plenty, and there were tokens of their waste in all directions. There were the lowing unmilked kine too, asking to be relieved of their abundance, and eggs in plenty. A little search also placed weapons in the hands of Murray; but Mr Meadows declined to accept the gun offered him by Wahika.“No,” he said; “I dropped mine when I climbed through the window, and escaped through the outhouse, and I trust I may never have to take one again in hand. I shall not need it—at least, at present, for my duty is to retreat and summon aid.”That night a grave, hastily scooped out by Wahika, received the body of poor old Martin Lee; and an hour afterwards Mrs Lee was mounted upon Joey, who came from the field where he was grazing at his master’s call, and accompanied by the savage and Edward Murray, Mr Meadows took hold of the bridle and led the way.At the end of a few hundred yards, the track began to ascend the side of the valley, and Murray stopped.“Send help as soon as you can, sir,” he said; “and heaven speed you!”“Heaven speed you too!” said the old man fervently. “It is a desperate hazard you go upon; but I dare not say stay. Break a branch once and again to show your track, and remember that you can do no more now than watch the enemy. You are weak and unable to cope with one, even; so bear in mind that your best way of helping her we love is by stratagem.”Murray took the cold hand of Mrs Lee, and tried in choking tones to say a word or two of comfort; but she rested the other hand upon his shoulder, and whispered the one word, “Katie!”“Or death!” muttered Murray in an undertone, and they parted.Story 3--Chapter XI.In Pursuit.Edward Murray knew well enough the truth of the old clergyman’s remarks as he slowly followed Wahika back to the ruined farm, where the savage filled his pouch with such necessaries as he had collected together, intimating his wish that Murray should do the same; and then, once more, they started.Wahika led, always smoothing the way for his companion; and he pounced from time to time, with every demonstration of satisfaction, upon some object of utility or provision that had been cast aside by the convicts on their march. Such as he could, he carried; the unnecessary things he concealed by the side of the track, taking every step forward with caution, lest too great a display of precipitancy should bring them suddenly upon the halting-place of their enemy.At last Murray stumbled, and then fell heavily, for exhausted nature could do no more.Wahika assisted him to a place that he had selected as secure; and then, in spite of Katie’s peril, Nature would have her way, and for some hours, Edward Murray slept, to wake stiff and sore, but refreshed. The wound on his head, too, was not so painful; and he lay for a while in the darkness wondering how he should proceed. The only thing he could decide upon was that they should endeavour to find out the convicts’ plan, and then try, by stratagem, to deliver their prisoners.He touched the savage upon the shoulder, and he was upon his feet in a moment, bringing food from his pouch, and milk from a bottle; and then, feeling stronger and more fit to encounter the dangers before him, the young man examined, and, for the first time, loaded his gun, the savage nodding approval.He would then have proceeded, but for the more wary guide, who lifted his finger towards the dark tops of the mountains, above which the stars still glistened, and in his broken English pointed out the advisability of waiting for day.And it was well that they waited; for within a mile of them, high up in an almost inaccessible rift in the mountain side, the convicts had made their camp, two of their number being left below to act as sentinels; and had Murray proceeded, the chances were that he must have fallen in with them, and perhaps have been taken by surprise.But as day broke, the native led the way cautiously, till from certain signs he felt convinced that the enemy was near; and motioning Murray to wait, he glided on silently, returning in a short time to conduct the young man with the utmost caution to the side of a rift, when he started, for within fifty yards of him, coolly smoking and talking, sat a couple of the convicts.His start did not pass unheard, and the men glanced in their direction; but Wahika had chosen a well-sheltered spot, and after a few minutes’ anxious peering about, they were apparently satisfied, and resumed their seats upon a block of stone.A motion of the savage’s hand made Murray draw back behind a dense mass of foliage; and then, from his knowledge of the country, intuitively guessing where the party would be, he led his companion for some distance back, and began climbing slowly up and up a way that seemed almost impracticable; the savage uttering more than one half-suppressed exclamation of surprise on finding that the vines and rope-like creepers were, in more than one place, broken away, as though some one had lately passed in that direction; for he did not recall that, a few hours before, he had given an invaluable lesson to another in the art of scaling these natural fortresses. The marks though were unnoticed by Murray, who climbed on and on, till compelled to rest; and then once more on till they reached a point where they could creep to the edge of a precipice; and peering between the fern-leaves, gazed down into a cuplike chasm, where, to the number of twenty or so, the convicts were gathered, some eating, some smoking and drinking, and so near that their voices could be plainly heard.The savage laughed his satisfaction at the success of his quest; and then, clutching his companion by the shoulder, drew him back behind a screen of foliage; for his quick ear had caught the sound of rustling branches, then a slip as of some one descending from above; a stone fell too, struck the shelf where they had stood but a moment before, rebounded, and plunged down into the leafy sea far beneath.The savage grasped his club, and his eyes glistened, while the click-click of Murray’s gunlock told that he too was prepared; but club and gun were lowered when, the next moment, the pale and scared face of Anthony Bray cautiously appeared from amidst the leaves, which he parted with the barrel of the gun he carried; and then, apparently knowing of the proximity of the convicts, he crawled to the edge of the precipice, and lay there watching them, till he uttered a cry of terror as Wahika glided to his side, and laid his hand upon his arm.The next instant he had caught sight of Murray, and as the young men’s eyes met, Bray read in the stern glance that his treachery was known. Their greeting was sullen. There was no brotherly grasp of the hand, as between two men meeting after being engaged in the same cause, and escaping from a fearful death. But they knew that this was no time for personal enmity, and Murray was the first to speak.“We are bound on the same mission, Mr Bray, and cannot afford to slight each other’s aid; but, by heaven, if I see the slightest offer of treachery again, I will shoot you as I would a dog. Your purpose here makes me forget the past; but look well to the future.”Bray muttered a few words, and then Murray crept once more to the edge of the precipice, and looked down. He was so near that he could have thrown a stone amongst the party; and his heart beat tumultuously as he saw Katie sitting, clinging tightly to a woman by her side, and apparently weeping bitterly. He was so near that it seemed quite possible, as a last resource, that they might lie there in concealment, and with careful aim shoot down the wretches one by one; but his better feelings revolted against such a plan. No, they must use stratagem, and that too as soon as the night fell; for it seemed that it would be practicable to elude the convicts’ vigilance, and to take the prisoners from amongst them.He crept back to Bray and Wahika, and told them his conclusions; when the former seemed almost to resent the proposal, as if it would afford him no pleasure should success attend their efforts; but Wahika muttered “Good,” and beckoning to them to follow, led them by a steep and rugged path amongst the ferns, over the next shoulder of the hill, and round to where they could look down into the chasm from the other side.So dense was the undergrowth, and so precipitous were the rocks, that the convicts appeared to consider themselves in complete safety; for save at the foot of the ravine, no watch was kept, and the young men followed the savage carefully from crag to crag, until they lay in a chasm where they could even overhear the conversation of the ruffians; while more than once a stifled sob from the women made Murray’s heart to burn within him.They were now so close that it seemed almost impossible for them not to be discovered; but hour after hour wore on, during which long consultations were held amongst the more earnest of the men, though the greater part seemed to give themselves wholly up to the riot and drunkenness they considered themselves to have earned. But it seemed that they were of divided counsels; some being for making the present their stronghold, and setting pursuit at defiance, while they made raids in different directions; others being for proceeding along the coast until they could seize another vessel, and cruise from place to place.At this juncture, Bray saw Murray’s hands playing with the lock of his gun, with whose barrel he covered one of the men whom he saw go up to Katie where she sat; but his aspect of rage gave place to one of surprise as he recognised the face of the convict, and saw that his object was only to press food upon her, which, however, she waved away.Had they, then, one friend in the camp? It seemed so; for upon a couple of others approaching the poor girl, the first man sturdily bade them go back, and on their refusal, placed himself before them, laughing at their threats, whereupon they drew back; but a cold shudder ran through Murray’s frame as one of the ruffians coarsely told the poor girl’s defender to wait until night.Story 3--Chapter XII.Rescue.“To wait until night!” Those words kept repeating themselves, as Murray lay there concealed, within but a few yards of Katie, and yet unable to warn her of help being so near.From time to time Wahika pressed upon him food, and he took it mechanically; for he knew his dire need of strength, and trembled for his weakness when the time should come for the struggle which he knew must be impending.The sun passed down behind the opposite ridge and still the men lay about, drinking and smoking. Apparently trusting entirely to the security of their position, no guard was now kept, for Murray had recognised the two men from the entrance of the ravine, who had rejoined the party below early in the evening, and at length the darkness came on, for this night the moon was clouded. But the light dresses of Katie and her companion were still discernible, and hour after hour wore on, the only change being that Wahika had glided down like a serpent, after divesting himself of his blanket; and then, slowly and cautiously, each in his inmost heart dreading some foul blow, Murray and Bray followed, till they lay crouching beneath the leaves, so close that not a whisper could have been uttered unheard. Inch by inch they had lowered themselves, trembling as each leaf rustled, and moving only when the conversation was at its loudest.Could they have stood erect, half a dozen steps would have placed them beside Katie, who, stupefied with grief, still clung to her fellow-captive, save at such times as a rough voice summoned the woman away to bear spirits or a light from one to the other; and at last, when she was returning from such an errand, her progress was arrested, and Murray and Wahika rose to their knees, for they felt that the time for action had come.The night was dark, but figures crossing the chasm could be distinctly made out, and there was no need for Wahika’s pointing finger, for Murray had already made out two men gently creeping towards the sitting figure in her light garments, and another making his way from an opposite direction. Enemies all, they seemed; but it was not so, for the next moment there was the sound of cursing, and a fierce straggle, in the midst of which Katie felt herself roughly clasped, and half carried towards the dense foliage on one side, and before she could check herself, gave vent to a sharp cry.The cry was nearly proving fatal; for though, at first sight, the three new-comers had been mistaken in the darkness for a portion of their own party, the convicts had now taken the alarm, and with furious shouts they sought each man his weapon.As they sprang forward, Bray had furiously thrust Murray back, so that he tripped and fell; but recovering himself quickly, he leaped to Katie’s side, and his voice reassured her.“This way,” he whispered; but it seemed too late. On three sides there were enemies; but Wahika seized the poor girl’s arm, and forced her towards the unthreatened side, dashing the foliage apart; and, more from the boldness of the act than the force of their attack, the young men were left free to follow, Katie’s dress guiding them, as the savage drew her rapidly after him, while to the convicts the escape seemed almost incredible. Had they pursued, all efforts on the part of the fugitives would have been vain; but feeling assured that they were attacked by a strong party, they were content for a while to fire at random in the direction taken by their enemies, who were thus enabled to make some little progress before pursuit was attempted.Using almost superhuman exertions, Murray at last reached Katie’s side, panted out a few words of encouragement, and tried to hurry her on; but now the savage stopped short, listened attentively for a few moments, and then turned in another direction, choosing a more arduous upward path, helping to drag the half-fainting girl from crag to crag, but not for far, since it was evident now that the convicts had recovered from their surprise, and were spreading in all directions in pursuit, encouraging each other with shouts as they pressed on.Twice the fleeing party had to double back, for it seemed that they were being headed; but Wahika was inexhaustible in his knowledge of the ground; and at last he reached once more one of the many little mountain streams, trickling down a steep chasm, whose sides were too precipitous to be scaled; and telling Murray to go first with the trembling girl, he laid his hand on Bray’s arm.“They go—we stop fight,” he whispered; but Bray refused.“Why should not Mr Murray stay, and fight for his lady-love?” he said bitterly.“No, no, no! Keep with me,” whispered Katie, clinging to Murray’s arm.Smothering his resentment, Murray slowly, and hardly able to press on himself, helped his tottering charge up the gully. Slow, cruel work, with Bray lingering behind, so as to keep them in sight, and the faithful savage covering their retreat. So far, the convicts had not hit upon the gully; and if they did find out their route, it was a place that two determined men could have held against a score. But though Murray made every effort he was but human; his wound had been a tremendous drain upon his system; and at the end of half a mile of incessant climbing, he sank at Katie’s feet with a groan, saying, “I can go no farther.”“Mr Bray,” he said huskily, “I am dead beat. You must take my place; but while power is left me to lift my gun, no one shall pass here!”Bray leaped to Katie’s side in an instant; but she held out her hands to keep him at bay. Murray pressed the poor girl hard to leave him.“Wahika would protect you,” he said earnestly; “and after a while I could follow.”“Would you leaveme?” she whispered.Murray did not respond; and they waited, listening to the distant shouts—now nearer, and echoing, as if close at hand, then growing more and more faint, when the hearts of the pursued would rise; but only for their spirits to be again damped; for once more it was evident that the enemy were nearing.It was an agonising time as they sat there, feeling, as it were, that Death, with black and outspread wings, was swooping here and there—now nearer, so that they could almost feel the dull flap of his wings; now farther away. Murray implored his companion to escape.The answer was ever the same:“No;” and the question repeated, “Would he go?”—a question that he could not answer. And once more they relapsed into silence, save when the savage mattered a few words, or stole gently down a little way towards the mouth of the gully.Once Wahika was gone for so long a time, that Katie glanced uneasily at Bray, who followed the savage down, returned, followed him again, and again returned, to stand thoughtfully listening; while Edward Murray seemed to read his thoughts respecting his helplessness, and the little difficulty he would have in ridding himself of a rival.Could he but tear Katie away, and flee with her higher up the gully, the convicts, upon reaching the spot where they now were, would find the wounded and half-helpless man; and once there were no Edward Murray, Katie might relent—that was, if they escaped.The young man sighed to himself as he pretty correctly rendered the thoughts of Anthony Bray; and he could not help feeling that he would rather see her free and the wife of Bray, than that she should again fall into the hands of their merciless enemies.Twice over some movement on the part of Bray made the poor girl cling closer to Murray—more in the character of protector than protected; for a terrible fear came over her that Bray would slay the almost helpless foe to his desires, and then compel her to follow him; and she told herself that she would die first.“Why does he not return?” she muttered, as she tried to pierce the obscurity below, in her efforts to catch sight of the savage. But fully an hour passed, during which time they could still hear the occasional shout or response of the convicts, as they vainly sought the fugitives. The more eagerly, too, that the freedom from attack had taught them the weakness of the rescuing party.Suddenly Bray started, and raised his piece; for a figure was seen to rise from some bushes just below them. But a second glance told him that it was Wahika, who had been watching at the mouth of the golly.“Morning soon—then find,” he said curtly. “Now try get up higher.”Drinking deeply of the limpid water near at hand, Murray rose to his feet, and, assisted by the others, he managed to scale the rocky barrier. The darkness was intense; but cautiously leading, the savage pressed back the branches, removed heavy stones, and pioneered the way, until he stopped short almost in a cavern, so shut in was the gorge; and then, helping Katie to a place where the trickling water did not reach, he whispered them to sit and rest, setting them the example himself, but without giving any explanation.As the day approached, for a time the darkness seemed to increase; and they sat on, with strained ears, listening for the signs that should tell of pursuit. Twice only a faint cry came echoing up the chasm; otherwise all was silent.Murray, as he lay on the stones, was filled with despair, as he thought of his weakness, and the distrust existing in their little camp; and as he tried in vain to look assuringly at Katie, he more than once asked himself how it would end.Story 3--Chapter XIII.Wahika’s Stronghold.The reason for Wahika’s last halt was plainly enough marked now that day had dawned. They were in acul-de-sac—a natural fortress, which it must now be their aim to defend against attack. Assault could come but from below, along the narrow winding way of the bed of the stream, up which their assailants, should they trace the little party, would have to climb slowly and arduously, exposed to their fire; and would their ammunition but hold out, Murray felt that those would indeed be daring foes who would force their way up, step by step, along the narrow path.Could Bray have been trusted, Murray would have felt comparatively safe; but he could not avoid recalling the night of the fire, the cruel blow so treacherously dealt; and it was but rarely that the eyes of the young men met.Bray, too, had his thoughts upon their position. In spite of his rage, he knew that he would fight to the death in Katie’s defence; but it was gall and bitterness to him to see the gentle care she bestowed upon his rival; and more than once, with a vengeful curse, he turned from them to make his way lower down the gully, and sit there brooding over his wrongs.No sunshine fell where the fugitives sat; but the heights around grew radiant; and poor Katie shuddered as they reminded her of her bright and peaceful home, over which so fearful a change had been brought.Feeling the impossibility of making farther progress, Murray was surprised to see Wahika, after a little reconnoitring, begin to climb the face of the precipice, finding foothold in tiny crevices, and grasping at tufts of grass, till he had surmounted an almost perpendicular portion of the face of the rock. But his object soon became plain: some thirty feet up there appeared to be a shelf and a dark opening, but so full of verdure that it was impossible to make out its extent; and here, it seemed, that the savage intended to make his stronghold, for, having reached the shelf, he drew out his knife, and, in a very short time, from the hanging creepers had woven a kind of rough rope, sufficiently strong to bear the weight of his companions; and this he at length let down.Katie shrank from it at first; but a whisper from Murray sufficed. The loop made was passed over her, so that she was seated within it; a couple of handkerchiefs bound her securely, lest her courage should fail; and then the young men watched her, trembling, as Wahika stood striding on the crag above, his brow knit, and the muscles upon his arms standing out like knotted cords, as he, by sheer strength, hand-over-hand, drew up the frightened girl.Twice Murray, his heart beating rapidly, stood with outstretched hands to break her fall; for it seemed that Wahika had over-rated his powers, and that he must be drawn over the edge. But slowly and steadily he hauled up his rough cord, Katie swinging to and fro, and clinging with closed eyes the while, till by an effort the savage drew her to the edge; and the next instant she was in safety.In a few minutes the rope was lowered; and Murray tied to it the guns and such provisions as still remained; and when, once more, the rope descended, Bray seized it, and half drawn, half climbing, reached the top, just as a shout from below told that not only had the gully been discovered, but that he had been seen.The next instant a bullet flattened itself against the stone, a little below the edge, and fell at Murray’s feet, while the rocks above echoed and re-echoed the report with a roll as of thunder.Wahika would have lowered the line again; but Bray held to it, and kept him back; for the temptation was strong upon him to leave Murray to his fate. They had there, where he was, the arms and provisions; and it was impossible for the convicts to reach them. Help must come sooner or later; and then there was the future. Should he not be successful in winning Katie, he would be revenged, and he would not have the agony of seeing her in his rival’s arms. The temptation was strong, and he yielded to it. Murray might die. But Wahika, too, was strong, and heedless of a couple more shots fired, he struggled hard for the rope, sending Bray back upon the precipice, so that it seemed that both must fall; but by an effort Bray recovered himself, and the savage was forced back; when, with a harsh cry, he loosened his hold of the rope, and darted to Katie, whose agitation had alarmed him, for she had seemed as if about to leap down to her lover.But if such had been her intention, Wahika restrained her, pulling her down into shelter; and, seizing his gun, he took rapid aim, fired; and one of the convicts who was about to fire at Murray bounded into the air, and then fell into the little trickling stream.Imitating his example, Bray too fired; and another man sank into a sitting posture, and then crawled into the shelter of the rocks; while half-a-dozen shots fired at the defenders of the gully flattened themselves on the rock, or dislodged little clouds of dust and stones.Knowing his peril, Murray sank at the first discharge, and behind a mass of rock crouched with anxious heart, waiting for the coming of his executioners. For it seemed to him that, sooner or later, they would dash on, ignorant of the inaccessible mass of rock, and then, in their rage and disappointment, kill him upon the spot.He smiled bitterly as he thought of this new act of treachery; and as he watched the barrels protruded above his head, he would have felt little surprise had that of Bray covered him; and a thrill of rage ran through him as he thought of his helpless position—weak and unarmed, and waiting for his end.But would not aid come? The news of such an outrage, as spread by Mr Meadows, must bring the settlers of the whole district down to the destruction of the villainous crew. But would the aid come in time to save Katie?As for Bray, he lay there watching the coming on of the convicts, as they now grew more cautious, and darted from stone to stone for protection. Twice he withheld his hand when he might have slain an enemy; for he told himself savagely that it was not for him to stay them from reaching his rival. And then as to Wahika—what was he, that he should oppose his will? There was his home in ruins; but he could build another; his cattle and sheep were uninjured; and here, miles away from another station, and with her friends cut off, Katie must gladly accept of his protection and become his wife; and the past would soon be forgotten. He knew nothing of Mrs Lee’s escape, nor of the sought-for aid; and silent and thoughtful he lay there, almost a spectator of the little siege.Twice his barrel covered Murray, and he took deadly aim at the young man; but the blenching was not on the sailor’s side. He saw his peril; but he trembled not, but gazed full up at his rival with a calm untroubled mien, almost a smile of contempt upon his lip, when the fierce eyes of his enemy were withdrawn, the barrel of the gun pointed in another direction, and Bray’s conscience told him that he dared not fire.Meanwhile precipice and crag sent thundering back the echoes of the discharged guns; for every time Wahika, from his more exposed position, showed hand or head, bullet after bullet was sent whistling through the air; but except being struck and bleeding from the rocky splinters, he was but little injured. Not so, though, his enemies; for more than one poor wretch, on rising to fire, from what he conceived to be a place of safety, received his death wound, and staggered down the gully, to fall with a crash over some fragment of rock, and then dye the streamlet with his heart’s blood. Now the strife would seem to cease, and attacker and defender would remain in concealment; but only for the convicts to renew their assault, coming in their rage nearer and nearer, until, but for Wahika’s well-plied gun, they must have reached the spot where Murray lay sheltered by the rock.He did not want for food; for there was a portion of the provision dropped at his feet; but while the stream trickled close by where he sat, and he could quench his thirst and lave his heated brow, those above him on the rock suffered severely from want of water, as the sun beat down upon their heads, and the stone grew hotter and hotter, till the verdure around them flagged and drooped.The times of cessation were, if possible, more trying than those of the active firing; for when the enemy was invisible, the dread was always great that they had scaled the sides of the gorge, and would before long reach them by some side-path, or, climbing far above where they lay hid, would hurl down huge stones and crush them as they sought in vain to avoid each ponderous mass. But no such thoughts seemed to trouble Wahika, who, with his gun-barrel commanding the pass, lay there watchful and patient, the barrel at times growing so hot that it seemed within the range of probability that the charge might explode. In his rough way he comprehended to a great extent the cause of the enmity between the young men, and placing Katie in a rift, half chasm, half cavern, behind where he knelt, he kept a double watch, and waited patiently for the help that he, too, felt must soon come. As the heat grew more intense, reflected back as it was from the rocks, but never reaching the hollow where Murray was concealed, the savage picked and chewed leaves to allay his thirst, offering some, too, to the trembling girl behind him.The shades of evening began at last to fall, and to Murray it was an anxious time, for he rightly guessed that the convicts would take advantage of the obscurity to close up and attack their enemies hand to hand; for since daylight had enabled them to discover the gully by which the fugitives had escaped, every check received had tended to madden them and make them reckless of consequences. Not that they dreaded attack themselves—the country had seemed too sparsely inhabited; therefore as each man fell, his comrades had sworn the most binding oath each to avenge him; and as soon as darkness closed in, they began to creep cautiously from rock to rock, higher up the gully. In spite of their caution, though, they had not made much progress, when a heavy stone was dislodged, and, as if in consequence, a gun was seen to send forth its messenger of death, and the convicts once more halted.Story 3--Chapter XIV.Attack and Defence.It was bitter work sitting there beneath the shelter of that stone, striving with his thoughts; and Edward Murray’s heart sank as the darkness increased, and he reflected on his situation. Yet, in spite of his anxiety of mind, that day’s rest had not been without its good effects. The stiffness had to some extent worn off, and at last, when the night had quite closed in, and the darkness rendered such a proceeding safe, Murray rose, and began to search along the side and face of the precipice for a spot whence he might contrive to scale the crag, and reach the shelf where his companions were concealed.He moved cautiously, for it struck him that he had heard the sound of approaching enemies in the gully below, though the darkness was too profound for anything to be seen; but though he tried all along to find the spot where Wahika has ascended, it was in vain, and he turned to regain the spot where he had lain, when, almost simultaneously, he heard the rolling down of a dislodged stone, and the sharp crack of a rifle, when a bullet whizzed by his ear, and seemed to strike the spot where he had so lately rested, the loose stones flying in all directions, and then pattering down.A pang shot through Murray’s breast, as he thought of whose hand must have fired that shot; and then listening for a while for sounds from below, he stepped back to the face of the precipice, eager now to confront the treacherous villain who thus again sought to take his life, after having threatened it twice before during the day. He passed along the face of the rock, stumbling heavily amidst the loose stones; and then his hand encountered something that made his heart leap, and seizing it with both hands, he climbed slowly and painfully, higher and higher, till his feet rested on a loftier ledge; and he stopped, panting, and wondering whose was the hand that had let down the rope. Was it Wahika? or was it a fresh act of treachery on the part of Bray? Was he to climb nearly to the top, and then feel his support suddenly slacken, that he might fall a heavy, helpless mass upon the cruel rocks beneath? He could not help it; he feared that it was so, and for a few moments felt disposed to slide down again. But no! only a few feet above him he knew that Katie needed his protection. He would persevere at all hazards; and once more the rough rope quivered beneath his weight, as slowly he clambered higher and higher, till with a violent effort he got one knee upon the edge, and grasped a tuft of herbage; when, just as a hand was gliding down his arm—that of the savage—there rang from beneath a loud shout—six or eight shots were fired from close at hand—and then, with the aid suddenly withdrawn, Murray’s knee slipped from the edge, and he had only time to loose the slackened rope, and force his bleeding fingers into the crevices of the rock, to save himself from falling.The darkness was awful; the tension upon his weakened arms such as he could hardly bear; but finding some slight support for his feet, he continued to hang on until he had somewhat recovered from the shock, and then made another effort to save himself. He dared not call for aid, lest he should point out his position to the convicts. But his faint whisper was heard in the dead silence, and in an instant he felt himself clutched, just as his hands were slipping over the stone, and he felt that he must fall.That grasp stayed him; but, at the same moment, a heavy foot struck at his hands, and it seemed that in the darkness a struggle was going forward upon the ledge. The fragments lying loose were thrown down, and then came a couple more shots, a loud shriek, and then a heavy, sickening fall upon the rocks beneath.A strange, deathly feeling crept over Edward Murray—a feeling of horror and weakness. His hands seemed to relax, his arms to become powerless; and though a voice he well knew whispered to him in anguished tones to try once more, his attempt was without success. He seemed only to sink lower; one foot slipped from the tuft upon which it had rested, and though he tried hard to regain the hold, it was in vain. He knew that it was Katie who pressed down his hands into the chink where they now rested; but it seemed to him that he was drawing her over with him in his vain efforts; and that in a few more moments, she, as well as himself, would be crushed on the points beneath.Her encouraging whisper came, close to his ear, to try again. But he was exhausted and helpless, till he felt his arm seized, dragged almost out of the socket, and then he lay motionless upon the ledge, with a hand grasping his on one side, and the sound as of some one panting hard from exertion on the other.Twice again came the crash and rattle of bullets striking above their heads; but they were too well-sheltered for harm to befall them, now that their enemies were close beneath, evidently trying hard to find some means of ascent, while Katie’s hand trembled as she listened to the corses and threats which defiled the quiet of the night.As he lay, each moment recovering strength, Murray tried in vain to interpret the meaning of what had taken place in the darkness, for he had not seen the tussle between Wahika and Bray as the latter had furiously sought to thrust his rival from his hold. The intense darkness had prevented his making out the meaning of the sounds he had heard; but when he crept forward, and found out that Murray had nearly reached the ledge, his rage knew no bounds, and, but for Wahika’s devotion, the clinging hold would have been destroyed. The volley from below did the rest; and there, close beneath the cliffs, lay the body of Bray, shot through the heart, and insensible to the farther cruelties practised by the convicts now in revenge for their losses.The silence upon the ledge, though, soon lent support to Murray’s suspicions; but he said nothing, except whispering to Wahika an inquiry as to the possibility of an escape, but only to learn that there was none.Another rattling volley startled them; but apparently feeling now that their efforts only ended in waste of ammunition, the convicts ceased firing, and, for the rest of the night, save an occasional whisper, the silence was oppressive. But there was not the agony of spirit Murray had before suffered. Two soft hands were now clasping his; and when all hope of relief was gone, he thought, as they sat there waiting for the day, that they could still die together.But he was hopeful yet. There was the prospect of help coming through Mr Meadows; and he told his thoughts to the trembling girl.“But would they find this gully?” was the response, to which he could only speak hopefully.The sound of Wahika reloading a gun made the young man ask for a piece, which, with the much-lightened horn and pouch, was pushed into his hands, and, with knitted brow, he sat still, waiting for the light, feeling stronger each hour, and determined to give a good account of more than one assailant, before finger should be laid upon the sleeping form at his side.For now, completely worn out, and feeling herself in comparative security, the poor girl’s head had sunk lower and lower, until it had rested upon her breast, and she slept.At last, morning again, bright and glowing. Murray felt that if they could only hold the convicts at bay, that would be sufficient. The help must come soon; and if they could avoid farther bloodshed, he should be thankful. But he knew that all must depend upon the actions of their assailants, and he looked about anxiously now, to see the state in which they, the besieged, would be.Wahika had told him that man could not climb the sides of the gully; but the savage had not allowed for the possibility of one or two daring spirits climbing to a height wherefrom they could command their place of refuge, and render it untenable for any length of time; and it was with no little anxiety that Murray saw that, from the first, faint light, the convicts had been carefully trying the sides, and that now a couple of men were slowly crawling up from crag to crag to a projection similar to that on which the besieged rested, and from which, while finding shelter themselves, they would be able to fire down upon those at the end of the gully.There was no time for consideration—it was life for life; and having turned to see whether the savage had made out the new danger, Murray took careful aim, fired, and had the mortification of seeing a puff of dust close by one of the convicts’ heads as the bullet struck the stone, while the shot sent by Wahika had no better effect.A loud shout of derision greeted their failure; and as hands were raised in loading, shot after shot was discharged at the ledge, but also without effect. Wahika was first ready to fire again. Murray’s hand trembled so from excitement that he was long in preparing; and then they took aim again at the uppermost convict, who they found, to their dismay, had gained the shelf, and was reaching down to help his companion, who was toiling patiently after him. Two steps, a strong drawing up of the hands, and he was within reach, so that he could grasp the other, and in another minute destruction would have been certain for the fugitives, when simultaneously Murray and Wahika discharged their pieces, and Katie hid her face in her hands, for there was a strange surging movement in the higher convict, who pulled his companion upward for a few inches, and then seemed to bow forward, gliding over the edge of the precipice, the two falling from crag to crag, full sixty feet, to roll over at last, crushed and helpless, among the ferns and long grass.A cry of rage followed this defeat; and darting from behind a stone, another man began fiercely to scale the side, climbing actively till he had nearly reached the same height as his companions, and then, escaping a couple of bullets, taking a leap which landed him upon a jutting mass, behind which he glided; but the next moment his gun-barrel was raised, with his cap thereon, by way of signal to his companions, who greeted it with a cheer. Then Murray saw it withdrawn, and an ominous silence followed.But the suspense was not of long duration; for before Murray or the savage could see sufficient of their enemy to take an aim, a puff of smoke seemed to jet out from the rock, and Murray was conscious of a sharp twinge on the shoulder, a bullet having passed through his coat and grazed the skin. He remained motionless though, his eye glancing along the barrel of his gun, as he waited for a good opportunity for delivering his shot, but in vain. Twice or thrice he saw the motion of a lifted arm, as of one loading his piece, and then again came a shot, and the puff of smoke, only visible as it darted outward, and then gently floated up on the still morning air.

The next instant he had followed, but receiving a tremendous blow upon the head, he fell heavily to the ground.

That blow was given by what should have been a friend’s hand, but it had an effect that Anthony Bray had not intended. The minute before he had been dragging a timid, yielding girl after him. But now, as in the dim light she saw the dastardly act, a feeling of rage filled Katie’s soul; and, tearing herself away, she flung herself upon her knees, lifting the head of Murray gently, and with her handkerchief binding up a severe wound the young man had received.

The place they were in was a sort of outhouse, which had been added to the side of the building, but without the window being filled up; and as Murray climbed out, the casement had swung to again; and it was well for the moment, for having beaten down the little remaining resistance, the convicts spread through the place, seizing the arms and ransacking cupboard and drawer; while old Lee, beaten down, wounded, looked on with agonised countenance; but not alone, for his wife clung to him, turning a defiant face upon the destroyers of her home.

Two men rushed into the chamber, through which Bray had dragged Katie, and concluding that those of whom they were in search had passed through a door on the other side, they hurried through that, and disappeared, but only to make their way back into the central room.

Meanwhile, overcoming his surprise at the fierce way in which Katie resisted him, Bray caught her in his arms, and drew her towards the outhouse door.

“Foolish girl! it’s for life and liberty! There, I’m stronger than you,” he cried, “and if I must use force, I will. Come quietly, Katie—come. We can reach the horses—mine is there yet—and fly to safety, away from this scene!”

But she struggled fiercely, although the weaker, while he forced her step by step towards the door.

“Little fool!” he hoarsely said. “Would you have us both killed?”

“Yes, yes, coward,” she cried. “Loose me, or I’ll call for help! Edward! Ned! help me!” she cried loudly; and as he lay just beneath the chamber window, he half raised himself, but only to sink back again with exhaustion.

“You’ll have the ruffians upon us, Kate,” hissed Bray; and mad with rage, he tried to lift her from the ground, when she again called out, “Ned! Ned! help me! O, help!”

Startled by this sudden outburst, Bray relaxed his hold sufficiently for Katie to tear herself away, and throw herself upon Murray’s prostrate body, to which she clung.

But Bray was at her side in an instant, trying again to drag her away, but in vain; when, seizing his rival by the throat, he fiercely whispered in the poor girl’s ear, “Come on, or it will be his death!”

“You have killed him now, coward!” cried the girl, vainly tearing at the hand so ruthlessly grasping her lover; when again seizing the opportunity Bray lifted her once more from the floor, and bore her towards the door, but only for there to be a repetition of the fierce struggle; the light, active girl writhing herself free again, calling upon Ned for the help he was powerless to give, he, poor fellow, responding with a groan, as in the shadowy place he could mistily make out what was going on.

Tearing herself away, Katie was again by the side of Murray, when the casement above her head was suddenly thrown open, a couple of streams of flame flashed across the place, and, with a loud cry, Bray sprang through the door at the other end. The moonbeams shone in for an instant, showing the wreaths of smoke curling slowly upward, and all was once more darkness, while Katie knelt, hardly daring to breathe; her hand, too, pressed upon Murray’s lips, lest he should moan, and so betray their whereabouts.

But the next moment her breath was drawn with a sob, for the window swung-to again, and from the rapid beat of footsteps, it was evident that the men who fired had gone round in pursuit of Bray; but apparently in vain, for they soon returned, stopped before the outhouse door, and looked in; but coming from the outer brightness, they saw nothing but the wreathing smoke; and, closing the door violently, hurried on towards the front of the house, where loud talking, and more than once a weak cry for help, fell upon the ears of the poor girl.

Murray had attempted to speak, and then seemed to become inanimate. In her grief, Katie clung to him, calling upon him, in whispers, to speak to her, if but a word, for she felt that he must be dying; and then, forgetful of all but her love, she clasped him fondly, bathing his face with her tears, and kissing him again and again. Then suddenly she started up with affright, for, just above her head, she heard the grating of the casement, as it slowly opened. Then there was a dread pause, broken by the loud talking and quarrelling of the convicts, but a few yards away.

Involuntarily she turned her face towards the open window, trying to pierce the darkness—for the moon had sunk behind the shoulder of the mountain, and in the last few minutes all had become black as night. But she could see nothing, only hear the sound of hard breathing, as some one leaned out into the place where she crouched, cold and paralysed, but with her mind in a state of fearful activity.

But was it fancy? Had her over-wrought imagination conjured up this new terror? No; it was no fancy, for the window was thrust farther back, and the dread seemed greater than she could bear, as just above her she could feel, as it were, that there was a face stretched out towards her.

It might have been but for a few seconds, but the suspense was agonising. Katie felt no fear for herself then: her fear was lest he should be discovered who had been ready to die in her defence—who had been so cruelly smitten down—he to whom, but a few hours before, she had plighted herself, owning to her love, and, for the first time, daring to respond to his kisses. But was it a few hours ago? Was it not years since, or at some time far back in the past, that those happy moments were? Or was this some wild dream—that he, the young, the bright, the true, who had treasured her love for years, and come these thousands of miles to see her—to claim her—was dying in her arms?

The stillness around them was awful; the darkness more and more intense. Cold as marble, gazing upwards ever at this invisible terror that she knew was there, would it not be better almost to cry out, she thought, and bring down others, so as to end the harrowing suspense that seemed to madden her?

But poor Ned—poor, helpless Ned! If he were not already dead—if he had not even now escaped from the arms that held him so tightly, they would slay him without mercy. No; she must remain silent. Would he move, or even mutter? Her heart gave a bound, for at that moment there was a slight motion in the form she clasped, and this made her turn her head from its strained, unnatural position, so that her cheek fell gently upon Murray’s, and then she clung to him cold and motionless, but with strained ears, as she felt that the time for discovery had come. The casement shook a little; there was a rustling noise, as of some one slowly climbing out; a heavy foot was placed upon her soft, yielding arm, then another, and the pain was sharp, but almost welcome, for it seemed to numb her mental agony. Yet no sigh escaped her lips; she only felt that the time to die had come, and a simple old prayer was being mentally repeated for pardon for those who, if not already cruelly slain, were in deadly peril—for herself and for him she so dearly loved.

Then the pressure was removed, there was a staggering step, such as might be that of a wounded man. With closed eyes, and a heavily throbbing heart, she heard a hand run along the wall, the wooden click, the door open and softly close, and then all was silent in the shed.

Silence there, but noise and confusion in the house: shouting, and more than one attempt apparently to obtain order, but all heard in a confused way, for a strange, deathly feeling of sickness had come upon the poor girl, her senses were reeling, there was a loud singing noise at her ears, and, though her name seemed to be uttered again and again, yet she could not respond, and soon all was blank.

How long that time of utter nothingness lasted, she could not tell; but she woke again to a strange feeling of oppression and misery; her breath came thick and short, and she could not recall where she was. It was as if her intellect had received some fearful stroke which had robbed her of her reflective powers. But thought came suddenly, and she knew all.

A bitter sob rose to her lips, and she could have cried for help, but in dread she checked that cry, and her heart beat triumphantly, for a voice, whose breath touched her cheek, whispered her name, and she knew that he lived.

“Katie, darling, Katie,” was whispered again—“water!”

Water! How could she get it? The spring was on the other side of the house, and the men were in the front; she could hear them still talking loudly over their plunder. If she went, they would seize her. If she appealed to them for help, they would robhimof what little life remained. What could she do? She could do nothing, she told herself despairingly—nothing but wait, and perhaps the wretches would go.

But it was not dark now. A dull light seemed to play through the window above their heads, as turning, she knew that it was smoke that she could see; and, starting to her feet, she found that, at the height of her lips, it was so dense that she could not breathe.

Was there to be no end to the perils of that fearful night? Was death to come in another and more terrible form? After escaping massacre at the hand of their ruthless enemies, were they to meet death by the lingering torture of fire?

The dread of this new alternative roused Katie into action. This was a peril that could be battled with, and they could escape if the men in front would but go. She whispered a few words to Murray, and he answered calmly and sensibly. She told him not to fear.

“Only for you,” he murmured; and for a brief moment all was still.

Then, starting once more into action, Katie asked him if he could rise, and he tried to do so, but only to fall back despairingly, when, creeping to the door, she softly lifted the latch, and pushed it a little open, so as to breathe once more the pure night air. She dared not open it far, for the voices were loud, and close at hand; but though she could not see the speakers, she could make out the reflection of their work in the bright glow lighting up the palm-like foliage around. And now a fierce, low, crackling noise fell upon her ears, and she crept back hastily to where Murray lay, seized him in her arms, and tried to drag him towards the door, but in vain. She could only move him a few inches at a time, so perfectly helpless was he.

“It is of no use, darling,” he whispered. “Go, glide out of the door, and make for the woods; you may escape. I cannot move; pray go; for my sake—for my sake, love!”

“Go—go—where?” murmured the trembling girl, as she still tried to move him.

“To the woods—hide somewhere—the place is on fire!” he gasped; “and God in heaven give me strength, for I cannot help her!”

“Hush, Ned, hush!” she whispered; “we shall be heard. Now try—try once more;” and she dragged at him with all her strength, so that he lay in the middle of the shed.

“No, no; I shall only draw you back to destruction,” he faintly said. “Never mind me. Escape, darling. You know the paths, and can hide, or make your way to where you can get help. Don’t stay. Look, look!” he whispered.

“I see,” she murmured.

And as she spoke, a bright tongue of flame began to lick the shingles of the roof, gilding them with its fierce fiery slaver, till first one and then another began to glow; and sparks and flakes fell from them, illumining the interior of the shed; while soon an opening appeared, through which the flames rushed careering out, the heat the while becoming insupportable.

“Katie, dear,” sighed the wounded man, “would you add torture to my death?”

“No, no,” she sobbed, as she dragged him nearer the door. “Are we not one?” And she sank exhausted by his side, to lay her face upon his arm. “Ned, my own Ned! pray—pray to heaven that our death may come quickly, and that we may wake soon where there is peace. I can do no more.”

As her simple words fell upon his ear, a loud demoniac drunken shout rose from outside, apparently close by the door; and from the trampling, mingled with the roar of the flames, it was evident that the ruffians were taking their departure.

Nerving himself for a last effort, Murray half lifted himself into a sitting position, fell back, struggled up again; and Katie rose to her knees.

“Try again—again,” he gasped; for he felt that she would not leave him; and together they struggled almost to the door, when, half-suffocated, the young man fell back once more. “Now go; leave me. You can escape yet, Katie,” he gasped. “O, if I had strength!”

But for answer he felt the two soft clinging arms round his neck, and a choking voice breathed two words in his ear:

“Forever!”

But the dread of the impending death seemed to give strength—the strength he had prayed for; and straggling a few inches at a time, with the red-hot embers gathering where they had lain but a few minutes before, and the flames crawling and dancing round the side of the house, Murray, now hardly aided by the fainting girl, contrived to reach the door, with one hand to thrust it back, so that a rush of air darted in, driving from them the smoke, as he uttered a loud cry for help.

The cry was heard; and they were seen for an instant ere the cloud of smoke wrapped them again in its folds. Two men darted forward to seize the prize, one of them, however, being daunted by the threatening roof, which, ruddy and golden, seemed ready to fall; while the other seized Katie’s dress in his hands to drag her out; but so tightly did she cling to Murray, that he was drawn forward and half raised before sinking back into the cloud of falling sparks and smoke.

Old Martin Lee saw with anxious solicitude Edward Murray rush after Bray; then the closing door hid them from his sight; and with renewed energy he clutched his gun, and struck fiercely at the first assailant that presented himself, shivering the stock to pieces, and laying the man motionless at his feet. But the barrel made no insignificant weapon; and he fought, as did Mr Meadows, fiercely, though in vain; the odds were too great, even though they were ably seconded by the shepherds. Through the beaten-down door the convicts rushed; and in a few moments the defenders were trampled under foot, and lay on the now deeply-crimsoned floor, the women being dragged out of the house into the front.

Then followed the scene of ruin and confusion previously enacted in the next valley. Food was obtained, the shepherd’s weeping wife being compelled to provide it, and then it was devoured by the red-handed crew. Wine, spirits, all were seized, and a mad debauch ensued; the ruffians, for the most part, having been deprived of such indulgences for years. But, soon satiated, the eager search for arms and ammunition was continued; men loading themselves, too, with much more plunder than they could bear away.

As for the dead, they lay unnoticed, the wounded receiving but little better treatment, till at last the moon slowly dipped behind the western ridge of hills, causing a deep shadow to creep along the Gap, and up the opposite slope, when, with an oath at the coming darkness, one ruffian thrust a light against some curtains, which caught fire in an instant. The flame ran up to the dry, boarded ceiling, and in a few minutes it became plain that the settler’s pleasant home must become a heap of ruins.

“What are you doing of?” shouted one convict to another, who, regardless of the flames, dragged out two bodies, in which there seemed to be some trace of life. But the man did not answer, and when the other attempted to hinder him, struck the ruffian to the ground in an instant.

But the next moment he was on his feet, knife in hand, and sprang at his assailant; but only to go down again, as if the fist that struck the blow had been so much lead.

He lay for a few moments, half-stunned, and then rose, slowly muttering, and shaking his head, while the other, in answer, apparently, to the mute appeals of the women, half-dragged, half-carried the wounded men out of reach of the rapidly increasing flames.

The man did it, though, in a coarse, rough, brutal way, as if afraid that he might lose caste in the eyes of his companions; and then, after bestowing a contemptuous kick on each, he rejoined his party, loaded himself with such booty as he had secured, and the motley group began to make preparations for returning down the valley.

“Here, carry this!” exclaimed a fellow, seizing one of the women by the arm; but she broke from him to dart to one of the prostrate forms, and lift its head into her lap. The ruffian was at her side the next instant, though, trying to drag her away; but as she resisted, he struck her to the ground, and hurried to join the others.

Poor Mrs Lee sank to the earth, with a wail of misery, and remained motionless; but the other woman, the shepherd’s wife, took the load pointed out to her, and followed her captors, trembling, and apparently half beside herself.

The flames had by this time wrapped the greater part of the house; and the convicts were passing the lean-to, shingle-roofed outbuilding at the end, when there rang forth a wild, despairing cry; and, dropping his load, as his companions were arrested, the same man who had dragged out the wounded, sprang forward and caught Katie in his arms, and bore her senseless from the flames, just as, with a fierce rush, the wind came careering up the valley, and dark clouds began to gather over head, as if betokening a storm.

“Now, then; we’ve more than we can carry now!” shouted the one who seemed to be the leader; and then, burdened as they were with plunder and three wounded men who could not walk without assistance, they slowly made their way to the bright little bay where they had left the schooner moored, to find her struggling, as it were, with the wind; and as they came well in sight they saw her break away, and in spite of the efforts of those left on board she ran on the bar at the mouth of the little harbour, where, it being now low water, a tremendous surf was running, the huge waves leaping over her and sweeping the decks in an instant. Twice she seemed lifted as if to be borne clear of the sands, but only to be dashed down again, the masts going at the second shock; and then, as if lightened, she lifted again, seemed to shake herself, and plunged, stern forward, farther on to the sand-bars, to lie rolling and wallowing in the midst of the fierce waters—a hopeless wreck.

Ten minutes had been sufficient time to effect the ruin; when seeing their retreat cut off so suddenly, the convicts stood upon the shore, with their ill-gotten booty, staring at one another, and apparently bewildered, till the one who had assumed the leadership promptly gave his orders, which the men sullenly obeyed, and followed him back towards the Moa’s Nest.

Edward Murray sank back exhausted, as Katie was snatched from his arms; but the desire for life was yet strong in him, and he tried to force his way along, just as the fierce wind sweeping up the valley drove back the flame and smoke from the doorway, giving him again the breath of life, as he was on the point of suffocation. But he was now scorching; and the little sense left told him that his last moments were at hand, when he felt his extended arms seized, and he was forced from the flaming building, to lie almost insensible for a while, till his eyes unclosed upon the tattooed face of Wahika, the savage lying beside him, until the convicts had turned a ridge of the gap. Then, lifting him in his arms, the native bore the young man a hundred yards into the shade of the trees behind the desolated farm, and scooping water in a broad leaf, poured the cold grateful fluid over his scorched face, and gave him some to drink.

Then he disappeared, but to return after a short time with the body of the poor old settler—Mrs Lee helping him with his burden—which they laid reverently down; when Wahika again took his departure, to help in one of the shepherds who was much injured, but able to lend some aid.

The savage was apparently unhurt, and he busied himself in the dark shadowy dell, where they lay concealed watching the reflection of the fire, by applying cooling leaves to wound and bruise, and bandaging them after the rude surgical fashion of his tribe. He did all, too, in a quiet fashion, with hands as soft and gentle as a woman’s, while the sufferers lay in a stunned, helpless state, hardly seeming to realise the horrors of the past night. For the dawn was fast approaching, and as the glow from the burning building slowly sank, far above their heads upon the icy summit of the mountain appeared the first gilding of the rising sun, making the snowy pinnacles to flash and sparkle in the glorious light of another day.

The savage can live where the European would starve; and Wahika soon contrived some food for the three who were in his charge; but when, feeling somewhat revived, Murray would have sought the ruins, Wahika restrained him, laying his hand upon his arm, and listening with bent head and distended nostrils, before gliding silently away to return before many minutes had elapsed, to whisper in his broken English the words, “Come back.”

At the same time he pointed down the valley, before helping the wounded shepherd farther back into the little ravine in which they lay, to where the concealment was better; then going forward, once more he crept from tree to tree, till he could peer down from behind a crag, and see the ruffianly crew, trooping back from the bay to the farm, stand in consultation for a few minutes, when one of their number pointing higher up the valley, they resumed their irregular march.

But there was a stoppage directly, and some confusion, and the sharp-eyed savage saw that one of the women, whom he soon made out to be Katie, had fallen, and that some arrangements were being made to carry her, when a fresh start was made, the poor girl having sunk down, partly from exhaustion, partly overcome by emotion at the sight which greeted her.

Wahika started then, for a few yards below him he heard an agonising exclamation, and he leaped down just in time to throw himself upon Murray, as he was rising to hurry to what must have been instant death.

“No good—no good! Stop; and Wahika get tribe to come and—”

He stopped; but there was a strange look in his eye as he brandished his club, and then held the young man back amongst the leaves, for his strength was but feeble as compared with that of the savage.

“Wahika friend—tribe friends,” he said after awhile, during which they had watched the convicts till they disappeared; and they were then about to return to the little ravine, when a low cry, as of some one in distress, smote upon their ears, apparently from the direction of the smouldering house, for they could not see it from where they stood.

There being apparently now no reason for concealment, the convicts being far up in a bend of the Gap, Murray slowly followed the savage down till they could peer through the leaves, when the former uttered a hearty “Thank heaven!” for, kneeling amongst the ashes, his face buried in his hands, and his whole frame shaken by the sobs which burst from his breast, was Mr Meadows, weeping like a child, and uttering disjointed words, as he mourned for the destruction that had come upon this peaceful home.

He did not hear their approach, for he was praying so fervently for those whom he had every reason to suppose dead, that Murray had stiffly knelt by his side and touched him ere he started to his feet; but only to kneel again and embrace his wounded companion as though he had been a son.

“Thank heaven! thank heaven!” he exclaimed fervently; “I thought you were there,”—and he pointed to the smouldering heap close by. “Has any one else escaped? Two of the women are there,”—and he pointed up the valley.

“And one is poor;”—Murray was too weak to overcome his emotion; he could not utter the name.

“I feared so—I feared so,” sighed Mr Meadows. “And her mother? Safe? Thank Providence! but let us get away from here; they may come back, and then there will be no mercy. Heaven bless you, my son!” he exclaimed fervently and gratefully to Wahika; for, seeing a gaping wound still bleeding upon the old man’s forehead, he had soaked a piece of native mat in the spring hard by, and begun tenderly to bind it up. “And you are a savage!” muttered Mr Meadows half to himself. “How can I preach to such as you, to leave your simple faith, when your white brethren do such deeds as these? No, no!” he cried; “not brethren, but the outcasts of our civilisation, let loose to raven and destroy. Thanks, thanks, my son; heaven bless you! Let us go now, friend Murray, and see those who are saved.”

The distance was but short; but, in pain from their injuries, they proceeded but slowly, Wahika stopping and looking back from time to time till they came up to him.

They had to pass the body of poor old Martin Lee; and here Mr Meadows paused, knelt down, took one stiffened hand, kissed it, and then softly replaced it by the old man’s side.

“Cut down like the wheat, and gathered into the heavenly garner. A true, blunt, honest Englishman, and a dear friend, Edward Murray.”

A tear or two fell upon the face of the inanimate form, as the old minister bent his head over him for a few moments, and then he rose.

“He looks at peace, friend Edward. Would that we could have saved him! I am weak now,” he said, wiping his eyes in a simple undisguised fashion; “but I do not see why I should feel ashamed. Let us go on.”

It was a sad meeting between the widow and the clergyman; but there seemed no time for tears. Katie was in the hands of the convicts, and how was she to be saved?

There was little said that the savage could not comprehend, though he was not so ready at expressing himself; but he said simply, and with an earnestness which bespoke his feeling.

“Wahika go fetch bright flower back; but Wahika only one—men kill, and bright flower of Moa’s Nest not saved.”

“Yes,” said Mr Meadows, “it would be madness to go alone; we must have help and strength. You, Edward Murray, must seek friends in one direction; and, with heaven’s help, I will see poor Lee’s wife into safety, and bring friends from elsewhere to fall upon the rear of these Philistines. Perhaps, too, our dark friend can bring up some aid. Which way will you go, Murray?”

The young man gazed almost reproachfully in his face for a few moments; and then pointed up the valley, in the direction taken by the convicts.

Mr Meadows then turned to Wahika.

“And which way go you, friend?”

“Wahika go with white friend here,” was the reply.

“Almost too daring to be of any avail,” mused Mr Meadows. “Then it is to me alone falls the task of bringing up help.”

They stayed that day in the little ravine, trying to recruit their strength. There was but little difficulty in securing some provisions, for the convicts had been prodigal in the midst of plenty, and there were tokens of their waste in all directions. There were the lowing unmilked kine too, asking to be relieved of their abundance, and eggs in plenty. A little search also placed weapons in the hands of Murray; but Mr Meadows declined to accept the gun offered him by Wahika.

“No,” he said; “I dropped mine when I climbed through the window, and escaped through the outhouse, and I trust I may never have to take one again in hand. I shall not need it—at least, at present, for my duty is to retreat and summon aid.”

That night a grave, hastily scooped out by Wahika, received the body of poor old Martin Lee; and an hour afterwards Mrs Lee was mounted upon Joey, who came from the field where he was grazing at his master’s call, and accompanied by the savage and Edward Murray, Mr Meadows took hold of the bridle and led the way.

At the end of a few hundred yards, the track began to ascend the side of the valley, and Murray stopped.

“Send help as soon as you can, sir,” he said; “and heaven speed you!”

“Heaven speed you too!” said the old man fervently. “It is a desperate hazard you go upon; but I dare not say stay. Break a branch once and again to show your track, and remember that you can do no more now than watch the enemy. You are weak and unable to cope with one, even; so bear in mind that your best way of helping her we love is by stratagem.”

Murray took the cold hand of Mrs Lee, and tried in choking tones to say a word or two of comfort; but she rested the other hand upon his shoulder, and whispered the one word, “Katie!”

“Or death!” muttered Murray in an undertone, and they parted.

Edward Murray knew well enough the truth of the old clergyman’s remarks as he slowly followed Wahika back to the ruined farm, where the savage filled his pouch with such necessaries as he had collected together, intimating his wish that Murray should do the same; and then, once more, they started.

Wahika led, always smoothing the way for his companion; and he pounced from time to time, with every demonstration of satisfaction, upon some object of utility or provision that had been cast aside by the convicts on their march. Such as he could, he carried; the unnecessary things he concealed by the side of the track, taking every step forward with caution, lest too great a display of precipitancy should bring them suddenly upon the halting-place of their enemy.

At last Murray stumbled, and then fell heavily, for exhausted nature could do no more.

Wahika assisted him to a place that he had selected as secure; and then, in spite of Katie’s peril, Nature would have her way, and for some hours, Edward Murray slept, to wake stiff and sore, but refreshed. The wound on his head, too, was not so painful; and he lay for a while in the darkness wondering how he should proceed. The only thing he could decide upon was that they should endeavour to find out the convicts’ plan, and then try, by stratagem, to deliver their prisoners.

He touched the savage upon the shoulder, and he was upon his feet in a moment, bringing food from his pouch, and milk from a bottle; and then, feeling stronger and more fit to encounter the dangers before him, the young man examined, and, for the first time, loaded his gun, the savage nodding approval.

He would then have proceeded, but for the more wary guide, who lifted his finger towards the dark tops of the mountains, above which the stars still glistened, and in his broken English pointed out the advisability of waiting for day.

And it was well that they waited; for within a mile of them, high up in an almost inaccessible rift in the mountain side, the convicts had made their camp, two of their number being left below to act as sentinels; and had Murray proceeded, the chances were that he must have fallen in with them, and perhaps have been taken by surprise.

But as day broke, the native led the way cautiously, till from certain signs he felt convinced that the enemy was near; and motioning Murray to wait, he glided on silently, returning in a short time to conduct the young man with the utmost caution to the side of a rift, when he started, for within fifty yards of him, coolly smoking and talking, sat a couple of the convicts.

His start did not pass unheard, and the men glanced in their direction; but Wahika had chosen a well-sheltered spot, and after a few minutes’ anxious peering about, they were apparently satisfied, and resumed their seats upon a block of stone.

A motion of the savage’s hand made Murray draw back behind a dense mass of foliage; and then, from his knowledge of the country, intuitively guessing where the party would be, he led his companion for some distance back, and began climbing slowly up and up a way that seemed almost impracticable; the savage uttering more than one half-suppressed exclamation of surprise on finding that the vines and rope-like creepers were, in more than one place, broken away, as though some one had lately passed in that direction; for he did not recall that, a few hours before, he had given an invaluable lesson to another in the art of scaling these natural fortresses. The marks though were unnoticed by Murray, who climbed on and on, till compelled to rest; and then once more on till they reached a point where they could creep to the edge of a precipice; and peering between the fern-leaves, gazed down into a cuplike chasm, where, to the number of twenty or so, the convicts were gathered, some eating, some smoking and drinking, and so near that their voices could be plainly heard.

The savage laughed his satisfaction at the success of his quest; and then, clutching his companion by the shoulder, drew him back behind a screen of foliage; for his quick ear had caught the sound of rustling branches, then a slip as of some one descending from above; a stone fell too, struck the shelf where they had stood but a moment before, rebounded, and plunged down into the leafy sea far beneath.

The savage grasped his club, and his eyes glistened, while the click-click of Murray’s gunlock told that he too was prepared; but club and gun were lowered when, the next moment, the pale and scared face of Anthony Bray cautiously appeared from amidst the leaves, which he parted with the barrel of the gun he carried; and then, apparently knowing of the proximity of the convicts, he crawled to the edge of the precipice, and lay there watching them, till he uttered a cry of terror as Wahika glided to his side, and laid his hand upon his arm.

The next instant he had caught sight of Murray, and as the young men’s eyes met, Bray read in the stern glance that his treachery was known. Their greeting was sullen. There was no brotherly grasp of the hand, as between two men meeting after being engaged in the same cause, and escaping from a fearful death. But they knew that this was no time for personal enmity, and Murray was the first to speak.

“We are bound on the same mission, Mr Bray, and cannot afford to slight each other’s aid; but, by heaven, if I see the slightest offer of treachery again, I will shoot you as I would a dog. Your purpose here makes me forget the past; but look well to the future.”

Bray muttered a few words, and then Murray crept once more to the edge of the precipice, and looked down. He was so near that he could have thrown a stone amongst the party; and his heart beat tumultuously as he saw Katie sitting, clinging tightly to a woman by her side, and apparently weeping bitterly. He was so near that it seemed quite possible, as a last resource, that they might lie there in concealment, and with careful aim shoot down the wretches one by one; but his better feelings revolted against such a plan. No, they must use stratagem, and that too as soon as the night fell; for it seemed that it would be practicable to elude the convicts’ vigilance, and to take the prisoners from amongst them.

He crept back to Bray and Wahika, and told them his conclusions; when the former seemed almost to resent the proposal, as if it would afford him no pleasure should success attend their efforts; but Wahika muttered “Good,” and beckoning to them to follow, led them by a steep and rugged path amongst the ferns, over the next shoulder of the hill, and round to where they could look down into the chasm from the other side.

So dense was the undergrowth, and so precipitous were the rocks, that the convicts appeared to consider themselves in complete safety; for save at the foot of the ravine, no watch was kept, and the young men followed the savage carefully from crag to crag, until they lay in a chasm where they could even overhear the conversation of the ruffians; while more than once a stifled sob from the women made Murray’s heart to burn within him.

They were now so close that it seemed almost impossible for them not to be discovered; but hour after hour wore on, during which long consultations were held amongst the more earnest of the men, though the greater part seemed to give themselves wholly up to the riot and drunkenness they considered themselves to have earned. But it seemed that they were of divided counsels; some being for making the present their stronghold, and setting pursuit at defiance, while they made raids in different directions; others being for proceeding along the coast until they could seize another vessel, and cruise from place to place.

At this juncture, Bray saw Murray’s hands playing with the lock of his gun, with whose barrel he covered one of the men whom he saw go up to Katie where she sat; but his aspect of rage gave place to one of surprise as he recognised the face of the convict, and saw that his object was only to press food upon her, which, however, she waved away.

Had they, then, one friend in the camp? It seemed so; for upon a couple of others approaching the poor girl, the first man sturdily bade them go back, and on their refusal, placed himself before them, laughing at their threats, whereupon they drew back; but a cold shudder ran through Murray’s frame as one of the ruffians coarsely told the poor girl’s defender to wait until night.

“To wait until night!” Those words kept repeating themselves, as Murray lay there concealed, within but a few yards of Katie, and yet unable to warn her of help being so near.

From time to time Wahika pressed upon him food, and he took it mechanically; for he knew his dire need of strength, and trembled for his weakness when the time should come for the struggle which he knew must be impending.

The sun passed down behind the opposite ridge and still the men lay about, drinking and smoking. Apparently trusting entirely to the security of their position, no guard was now kept, for Murray had recognised the two men from the entrance of the ravine, who had rejoined the party below early in the evening, and at length the darkness came on, for this night the moon was clouded. But the light dresses of Katie and her companion were still discernible, and hour after hour wore on, the only change being that Wahika had glided down like a serpent, after divesting himself of his blanket; and then, slowly and cautiously, each in his inmost heart dreading some foul blow, Murray and Bray followed, till they lay crouching beneath the leaves, so close that not a whisper could have been uttered unheard. Inch by inch they had lowered themselves, trembling as each leaf rustled, and moving only when the conversation was at its loudest.

Could they have stood erect, half a dozen steps would have placed them beside Katie, who, stupefied with grief, still clung to her fellow-captive, save at such times as a rough voice summoned the woman away to bear spirits or a light from one to the other; and at last, when she was returning from such an errand, her progress was arrested, and Murray and Wahika rose to their knees, for they felt that the time for action had come.

The night was dark, but figures crossing the chasm could be distinctly made out, and there was no need for Wahika’s pointing finger, for Murray had already made out two men gently creeping towards the sitting figure in her light garments, and another making his way from an opposite direction. Enemies all, they seemed; but it was not so, for the next moment there was the sound of cursing, and a fierce straggle, in the midst of which Katie felt herself roughly clasped, and half carried towards the dense foliage on one side, and before she could check herself, gave vent to a sharp cry.

The cry was nearly proving fatal; for though, at first sight, the three new-comers had been mistaken in the darkness for a portion of their own party, the convicts had now taken the alarm, and with furious shouts they sought each man his weapon.

As they sprang forward, Bray had furiously thrust Murray back, so that he tripped and fell; but recovering himself quickly, he leaped to Katie’s side, and his voice reassured her.

“This way,” he whispered; but it seemed too late. On three sides there were enemies; but Wahika seized the poor girl’s arm, and forced her towards the unthreatened side, dashing the foliage apart; and, more from the boldness of the act than the force of their attack, the young men were left free to follow, Katie’s dress guiding them, as the savage drew her rapidly after him, while to the convicts the escape seemed almost incredible. Had they pursued, all efforts on the part of the fugitives would have been vain; but feeling assured that they were attacked by a strong party, they were content for a while to fire at random in the direction taken by their enemies, who were thus enabled to make some little progress before pursuit was attempted.

Using almost superhuman exertions, Murray at last reached Katie’s side, panted out a few words of encouragement, and tried to hurry her on; but now the savage stopped short, listened attentively for a few moments, and then turned in another direction, choosing a more arduous upward path, helping to drag the half-fainting girl from crag to crag, but not for far, since it was evident now that the convicts had recovered from their surprise, and were spreading in all directions in pursuit, encouraging each other with shouts as they pressed on.

Twice the fleeing party had to double back, for it seemed that they were being headed; but Wahika was inexhaustible in his knowledge of the ground; and at last he reached once more one of the many little mountain streams, trickling down a steep chasm, whose sides were too precipitous to be scaled; and telling Murray to go first with the trembling girl, he laid his hand on Bray’s arm.

“They go—we stop fight,” he whispered; but Bray refused.

“Why should not Mr Murray stay, and fight for his lady-love?” he said bitterly.

“No, no, no! Keep with me,” whispered Katie, clinging to Murray’s arm.

Smothering his resentment, Murray slowly, and hardly able to press on himself, helped his tottering charge up the gully. Slow, cruel work, with Bray lingering behind, so as to keep them in sight, and the faithful savage covering their retreat. So far, the convicts had not hit upon the gully; and if they did find out their route, it was a place that two determined men could have held against a score. But though Murray made every effort he was but human; his wound had been a tremendous drain upon his system; and at the end of half a mile of incessant climbing, he sank at Katie’s feet with a groan, saying, “I can go no farther.”

“Mr Bray,” he said huskily, “I am dead beat. You must take my place; but while power is left me to lift my gun, no one shall pass here!”

Bray leaped to Katie’s side in an instant; but she held out her hands to keep him at bay. Murray pressed the poor girl hard to leave him.

“Wahika would protect you,” he said earnestly; “and after a while I could follow.”

“Would you leaveme?” she whispered.

Murray did not respond; and they waited, listening to the distant shouts—now nearer, and echoing, as if close at hand, then growing more and more faint, when the hearts of the pursued would rise; but only for their spirits to be again damped; for once more it was evident that the enemy were nearing.

It was an agonising time as they sat there, feeling, as it were, that Death, with black and outspread wings, was swooping here and there—now nearer, so that they could almost feel the dull flap of his wings; now farther away. Murray implored his companion to escape.

The answer was ever the same:

“No;” and the question repeated, “Would he go?”—a question that he could not answer. And once more they relapsed into silence, save when the savage mattered a few words, or stole gently down a little way towards the mouth of the gully.

Once Wahika was gone for so long a time, that Katie glanced uneasily at Bray, who followed the savage down, returned, followed him again, and again returned, to stand thoughtfully listening; while Edward Murray seemed to read his thoughts respecting his helplessness, and the little difficulty he would have in ridding himself of a rival.

Could he but tear Katie away, and flee with her higher up the gully, the convicts, upon reaching the spot where they now were, would find the wounded and half-helpless man; and once there were no Edward Murray, Katie might relent—that was, if they escaped.

The young man sighed to himself as he pretty correctly rendered the thoughts of Anthony Bray; and he could not help feeling that he would rather see her free and the wife of Bray, than that she should again fall into the hands of their merciless enemies.

Twice over some movement on the part of Bray made the poor girl cling closer to Murray—more in the character of protector than protected; for a terrible fear came over her that Bray would slay the almost helpless foe to his desires, and then compel her to follow him; and she told herself that she would die first.

“Why does he not return?” she muttered, as she tried to pierce the obscurity below, in her efforts to catch sight of the savage. But fully an hour passed, during which time they could still hear the occasional shout or response of the convicts, as they vainly sought the fugitives. The more eagerly, too, that the freedom from attack had taught them the weakness of the rescuing party.

Suddenly Bray started, and raised his piece; for a figure was seen to rise from some bushes just below them. But a second glance told him that it was Wahika, who had been watching at the mouth of the golly.

“Morning soon—then find,” he said curtly. “Now try get up higher.”

Drinking deeply of the limpid water near at hand, Murray rose to his feet, and, assisted by the others, he managed to scale the rocky barrier. The darkness was intense; but cautiously leading, the savage pressed back the branches, removed heavy stones, and pioneered the way, until he stopped short almost in a cavern, so shut in was the gorge; and then, helping Katie to a place where the trickling water did not reach, he whispered them to sit and rest, setting them the example himself, but without giving any explanation.

As the day approached, for a time the darkness seemed to increase; and they sat on, with strained ears, listening for the signs that should tell of pursuit. Twice only a faint cry came echoing up the chasm; otherwise all was silent.

Murray, as he lay on the stones, was filled with despair, as he thought of his weakness, and the distrust existing in their little camp; and as he tried in vain to look assuringly at Katie, he more than once asked himself how it would end.

The reason for Wahika’s last halt was plainly enough marked now that day had dawned. They were in acul-de-sac—a natural fortress, which it must now be their aim to defend against attack. Assault could come but from below, along the narrow winding way of the bed of the stream, up which their assailants, should they trace the little party, would have to climb slowly and arduously, exposed to their fire; and would their ammunition but hold out, Murray felt that those would indeed be daring foes who would force their way up, step by step, along the narrow path.

Could Bray have been trusted, Murray would have felt comparatively safe; but he could not avoid recalling the night of the fire, the cruel blow so treacherously dealt; and it was but rarely that the eyes of the young men met.

Bray, too, had his thoughts upon their position. In spite of his rage, he knew that he would fight to the death in Katie’s defence; but it was gall and bitterness to him to see the gentle care she bestowed upon his rival; and more than once, with a vengeful curse, he turned from them to make his way lower down the gully, and sit there brooding over his wrongs.

No sunshine fell where the fugitives sat; but the heights around grew radiant; and poor Katie shuddered as they reminded her of her bright and peaceful home, over which so fearful a change had been brought.

Feeling the impossibility of making farther progress, Murray was surprised to see Wahika, after a little reconnoitring, begin to climb the face of the precipice, finding foothold in tiny crevices, and grasping at tufts of grass, till he had surmounted an almost perpendicular portion of the face of the rock. But his object soon became plain: some thirty feet up there appeared to be a shelf and a dark opening, but so full of verdure that it was impossible to make out its extent; and here, it seemed, that the savage intended to make his stronghold, for, having reached the shelf, he drew out his knife, and, in a very short time, from the hanging creepers had woven a kind of rough rope, sufficiently strong to bear the weight of his companions; and this he at length let down.

Katie shrank from it at first; but a whisper from Murray sufficed. The loop made was passed over her, so that she was seated within it; a couple of handkerchiefs bound her securely, lest her courage should fail; and then the young men watched her, trembling, as Wahika stood striding on the crag above, his brow knit, and the muscles upon his arms standing out like knotted cords, as he, by sheer strength, hand-over-hand, drew up the frightened girl.

Twice Murray, his heart beating rapidly, stood with outstretched hands to break her fall; for it seemed that Wahika had over-rated his powers, and that he must be drawn over the edge. But slowly and steadily he hauled up his rough cord, Katie swinging to and fro, and clinging with closed eyes the while, till by an effort the savage drew her to the edge; and the next instant she was in safety.

In a few minutes the rope was lowered; and Murray tied to it the guns and such provisions as still remained; and when, once more, the rope descended, Bray seized it, and half drawn, half climbing, reached the top, just as a shout from below told that not only had the gully been discovered, but that he had been seen.

The next instant a bullet flattened itself against the stone, a little below the edge, and fell at Murray’s feet, while the rocks above echoed and re-echoed the report with a roll as of thunder.

Wahika would have lowered the line again; but Bray held to it, and kept him back; for the temptation was strong upon him to leave Murray to his fate. They had there, where he was, the arms and provisions; and it was impossible for the convicts to reach them. Help must come sooner or later; and then there was the future. Should he not be successful in winning Katie, he would be revenged, and he would not have the agony of seeing her in his rival’s arms. The temptation was strong, and he yielded to it. Murray might die. But Wahika, too, was strong, and heedless of a couple more shots fired, he struggled hard for the rope, sending Bray back upon the precipice, so that it seemed that both must fall; but by an effort Bray recovered himself, and the savage was forced back; when, with a harsh cry, he loosened his hold of the rope, and darted to Katie, whose agitation had alarmed him, for she had seemed as if about to leap down to her lover.

But if such had been her intention, Wahika restrained her, pulling her down into shelter; and, seizing his gun, he took rapid aim, fired; and one of the convicts who was about to fire at Murray bounded into the air, and then fell into the little trickling stream.

Imitating his example, Bray too fired; and another man sank into a sitting posture, and then crawled into the shelter of the rocks; while half-a-dozen shots fired at the defenders of the gully flattened themselves on the rock, or dislodged little clouds of dust and stones.

Knowing his peril, Murray sank at the first discharge, and behind a mass of rock crouched with anxious heart, waiting for the coming of his executioners. For it seemed to him that, sooner or later, they would dash on, ignorant of the inaccessible mass of rock, and then, in their rage and disappointment, kill him upon the spot.

He smiled bitterly as he thought of this new act of treachery; and as he watched the barrels protruded above his head, he would have felt little surprise had that of Bray covered him; and a thrill of rage ran through him as he thought of his helpless position—weak and unarmed, and waiting for his end.

But would not aid come? The news of such an outrage, as spread by Mr Meadows, must bring the settlers of the whole district down to the destruction of the villainous crew. But would the aid come in time to save Katie?

As for Bray, he lay there watching the coming on of the convicts, as they now grew more cautious, and darted from stone to stone for protection. Twice he withheld his hand when he might have slain an enemy; for he told himself savagely that it was not for him to stay them from reaching his rival. And then as to Wahika—what was he, that he should oppose his will? There was his home in ruins; but he could build another; his cattle and sheep were uninjured; and here, miles away from another station, and with her friends cut off, Katie must gladly accept of his protection and become his wife; and the past would soon be forgotten. He knew nothing of Mrs Lee’s escape, nor of the sought-for aid; and silent and thoughtful he lay there, almost a spectator of the little siege.

Twice his barrel covered Murray, and he took deadly aim at the young man; but the blenching was not on the sailor’s side. He saw his peril; but he trembled not, but gazed full up at his rival with a calm untroubled mien, almost a smile of contempt upon his lip, when the fierce eyes of his enemy were withdrawn, the barrel of the gun pointed in another direction, and Bray’s conscience told him that he dared not fire.

Meanwhile precipice and crag sent thundering back the echoes of the discharged guns; for every time Wahika, from his more exposed position, showed hand or head, bullet after bullet was sent whistling through the air; but except being struck and bleeding from the rocky splinters, he was but little injured. Not so, though, his enemies; for more than one poor wretch, on rising to fire, from what he conceived to be a place of safety, received his death wound, and staggered down the gully, to fall with a crash over some fragment of rock, and then dye the streamlet with his heart’s blood. Now the strife would seem to cease, and attacker and defender would remain in concealment; but only for the convicts to renew their assault, coming in their rage nearer and nearer, until, but for Wahika’s well-plied gun, they must have reached the spot where Murray lay sheltered by the rock.

He did not want for food; for there was a portion of the provision dropped at his feet; but while the stream trickled close by where he sat, and he could quench his thirst and lave his heated brow, those above him on the rock suffered severely from want of water, as the sun beat down upon their heads, and the stone grew hotter and hotter, till the verdure around them flagged and drooped.

The times of cessation were, if possible, more trying than those of the active firing; for when the enemy was invisible, the dread was always great that they had scaled the sides of the gorge, and would before long reach them by some side-path, or, climbing far above where they lay hid, would hurl down huge stones and crush them as they sought in vain to avoid each ponderous mass. But no such thoughts seemed to trouble Wahika, who, with his gun-barrel commanding the pass, lay there watchful and patient, the barrel at times growing so hot that it seemed within the range of probability that the charge might explode. In his rough way he comprehended to a great extent the cause of the enmity between the young men, and placing Katie in a rift, half chasm, half cavern, behind where he knelt, he kept a double watch, and waited patiently for the help that he, too, felt must soon come. As the heat grew more intense, reflected back as it was from the rocks, but never reaching the hollow where Murray was concealed, the savage picked and chewed leaves to allay his thirst, offering some, too, to the trembling girl behind him.

The shades of evening began at last to fall, and to Murray it was an anxious time, for he rightly guessed that the convicts would take advantage of the obscurity to close up and attack their enemies hand to hand; for since daylight had enabled them to discover the gully by which the fugitives had escaped, every check received had tended to madden them and make them reckless of consequences. Not that they dreaded attack themselves—the country had seemed too sparsely inhabited; therefore as each man fell, his comrades had sworn the most binding oath each to avenge him; and as soon as darkness closed in, they began to creep cautiously from rock to rock, higher up the gully. In spite of their caution, though, they had not made much progress, when a heavy stone was dislodged, and, as if in consequence, a gun was seen to send forth its messenger of death, and the convicts once more halted.

It was bitter work sitting there beneath the shelter of that stone, striving with his thoughts; and Edward Murray’s heart sank as the darkness increased, and he reflected on his situation. Yet, in spite of his anxiety of mind, that day’s rest had not been without its good effects. The stiffness had to some extent worn off, and at last, when the night had quite closed in, and the darkness rendered such a proceeding safe, Murray rose, and began to search along the side and face of the precipice for a spot whence he might contrive to scale the crag, and reach the shelf where his companions were concealed.

He moved cautiously, for it struck him that he had heard the sound of approaching enemies in the gully below, though the darkness was too profound for anything to be seen; but though he tried all along to find the spot where Wahika has ascended, it was in vain, and he turned to regain the spot where he had lain, when, almost simultaneously, he heard the rolling down of a dislodged stone, and the sharp crack of a rifle, when a bullet whizzed by his ear, and seemed to strike the spot where he had so lately rested, the loose stones flying in all directions, and then pattering down.

A pang shot through Murray’s breast, as he thought of whose hand must have fired that shot; and then listening for a while for sounds from below, he stepped back to the face of the precipice, eager now to confront the treacherous villain who thus again sought to take his life, after having threatened it twice before during the day. He passed along the face of the rock, stumbling heavily amidst the loose stones; and then his hand encountered something that made his heart leap, and seizing it with both hands, he climbed slowly and painfully, higher and higher, till his feet rested on a loftier ledge; and he stopped, panting, and wondering whose was the hand that had let down the rope. Was it Wahika? or was it a fresh act of treachery on the part of Bray? Was he to climb nearly to the top, and then feel his support suddenly slacken, that he might fall a heavy, helpless mass upon the cruel rocks beneath? He could not help it; he feared that it was so, and for a few moments felt disposed to slide down again. But no! only a few feet above him he knew that Katie needed his protection. He would persevere at all hazards; and once more the rough rope quivered beneath his weight, as slowly he clambered higher and higher, till with a violent effort he got one knee upon the edge, and grasped a tuft of herbage; when, just as a hand was gliding down his arm—that of the savage—there rang from beneath a loud shout—six or eight shots were fired from close at hand—and then, with the aid suddenly withdrawn, Murray’s knee slipped from the edge, and he had only time to loose the slackened rope, and force his bleeding fingers into the crevices of the rock, to save himself from falling.

The darkness was awful; the tension upon his weakened arms such as he could hardly bear; but finding some slight support for his feet, he continued to hang on until he had somewhat recovered from the shock, and then made another effort to save himself. He dared not call for aid, lest he should point out his position to the convicts. But his faint whisper was heard in the dead silence, and in an instant he felt himself clutched, just as his hands were slipping over the stone, and he felt that he must fall.

That grasp stayed him; but, at the same moment, a heavy foot struck at his hands, and it seemed that in the darkness a struggle was going forward upon the ledge. The fragments lying loose were thrown down, and then came a couple more shots, a loud shriek, and then a heavy, sickening fall upon the rocks beneath.

A strange, deathly feeling crept over Edward Murray—a feeling of horror and weakness. His hands seemed to relax, his arms to become powerless; and though a voice he well knew whispered to him in anguished tones to try once more, his attempt was without success. He seemed only to sink lower; one foot slipped from the tuft upon which it had rested, and though he tried hard to regain the hold, it was in vain. He knew that it was Katie who pressed down his hands into the chink where they now rested; but it seemed to him that he was drawing her over with him in his vain efforts; and that in a few more moments, she, as well as himself, would be crushed on the points beneath.

Her encouraging whisper came, close to his ear, to try again. But he was exhausted and helpless, till he felt his arm seized, dragged almost out of the socket, and then he lay motionless upon the ledge, with a hand grasping his on one side, and the sound as of some one panting hard from exertion on the other.

Twice again came the crash and rattle of bullets striking above their heads; but they were too well-sheltered for harm to befall them, now that their enemies were close beneath, evidently trying hard to find some means of ascent, while Katie’s hand trembled as she listened to the corses and threats which defiled the quiet of the night.

As he lay, each moment recovering strength, Murray tried in vain to interpret the meaning of what had taken place in the darkness, for he had not seen the tussle between Wahika and Bray as the latter had furiously sought to thrust his rival from his hold. The intense darkness had prevented his making out the meaning of the sounds he had heard; but when he crept forward, and found out that Murray had nearly reached the ledge, his rage knew no bounds, and, but for Wahika’s devotion, the clinging hold would have been destroyed. The volley from below did the rest; and there, close beneath the cliffs, lay the body of Bray, shot through the heart, and insensible to the farther cruelties practised by the convicts now in revenge for their losses.

The silence upon the ledge, though, soon lent support to Murray’s suspicions; but he said nothing, except whispering to Wahika an inquiry as to the possibility of an escape, but only to learn that there was none.

Another rattling volley startled them; but apparently feeling now that their efforts only ended in waste of ammunition, the convicts ceased firing, and, for the rest of the night, save an occasional whisper, the silence was oppressive. But there was not the agony of spirit Murray had before suffered. Two soft hands were now clasping his; and when all hope of relief was gone, he thought, as they sat there waiting for the day, that they could still die together.

But he was hopeful yet. There was the prospect of help coming through Mr Meadows; and he told his thoughts to the trembling girl.

“But would they find this gully?” was the response, to which he could only speak hopefully.

The sound of Wahika reloading a gun made the young man ask for a piece, which, with the much-lightened horn and pouch, was pushed into his hands, and, with knitted brow, he sat still, waiting for the light, feeling stronger each hour, and determined to give a good account of more than one assailant, before finger should be laid upon the sleeping form at his side.

For now, completely worn out, and feeling herself in comparative security, the poor girl’s head had sunk lower and lower, until it had rested upon her breast, and she slept.

At last, morning again, bright and glowing. Murray felt that if they could only hold the convicts at bay, that would be sufficient. The help must come soon; and if they could avoid farther bloodshed, he should be thankful. But he knew that all must depend upon the actions of their assailants, and he looked about anxiously now, to see the state in which they, the besieged, would be.

Wahika had told him that man could not climb the sides of the gully; but the savage had not allowed for the possibility of one or two daring spirits climbing to a height wherefrom they could command their place of refuge, and render it untenable for any length of time; and it was with no little anxiety that Murray saw that, from the first, faint light, the convicts had been carefully trying the sides, and that now a couple of men were slowly crawling up from crag to crag to a projection similar to that on which the besieged rested, and from which, while finding shelter themselves, they would be able to fire down upon those at the end of the gully.

There was no time for consideration—it was life for life; and having turned to see whether the savage had made out the new danger, Murray took careful aim, fired, and had the mortification of seeing a puff of dust close by one of the convicts’ heads as the bullet struck the stone, while the shot sent by Wahika had no better effect.

A loud shout of derision greeted their failure; and as hands were raised in loading, shot after shot was discharged at the ledge, but also without effect. Wahika was first ready to fire again. Murray’s hand trembled so from excitement that he was long in preparing; and then they took aim again at the uppermost convict, who they found, to their dismay, had gained the shelf, and was reaching down to help his companion, who was toiling patiently after him. Two steps, a strong drawing up of the hands, and he was within reach, so that he could grasp the other, and in another minute destruction would have been certain for the fugitives, when simultaneously Murray and Wahika discharged their pieces, and Katie hid her face in her hands, for there was a strange surging movement in the higher convict, who pulled his companion upward for a few inches, and then seemed to bow forward, gliding over the edge of the precipice, the two falling from crag to crag, full sixty feet, to roll over at last, crushed and helpless, among the ferns and long grass.

A cry of rage followed this defeat; and darting from behind a stone, another man began fiercely to scale the side, climbing actively till he had nearly reached the same height as his companions, and then, escaping a couple of bullets, taking a leap which landed him upon a jutting mass, behind which he glided; but the next moment his gun-barrel was raised, with his cap thereon, by way of signal to his companions, who greeted it with a cheer. Then Murray saw it withdrawn, and an ominous silence followed.

But the suspense was not of long duration; for before Murray or the savage could see sufficient of their enemy to take an aim, a puff of smoke seemed to jet out from the rock, and Murray was conscious of a sharp twinge on the shoulder, a bullet having passed through his coat and grazed the skin. He remained motionless though, his eye glancing along the barrel of his gun, as he waited for a good opportunity for delivering his shot, but in vain. Twice or thrice he saw the motion of a lifted arm, as of one loading his piece, and then again came a shot, and the puff of smoke, only visible as it darted outward, and then gently floated up on the still morning air.

Back to IndexNext