"There is a voiceless eloquence in earthTelling of him who gave her wonders birth."
"There is a voiceless eloquence in earthTelling of him who gave her wonders birth."
"Keep in the rear, papa," said Arthur; "we must reconnoitre secretly, before we venture into these mazes."
"Choose a narrow pass, Arthur," cried Gerald. "It will suit best for our manœuvres, if we come to a battle. Halloo! what wild beast can that be I hear roaring. No Australian animal that we have met with yet has such a sonorous voice."
"Oh, Jack!" cried Ruth, clinging to her brother, behind whom she was mounted. "Jack, honey, stop a bit, hear ye; yon's a bear, and I'se feared of my life; it's a bear like them 'at dances about at t' fairs!"
"A bear growls," said Hugh; "but that is decidedly a roar; it is more like the voice of the royal lion, and we shall have some sport at last. To arms! to arms!"
Jack and Ruth were some yards in advance of the rest, when suddenly from a thicket just before them, a wild bull rushed furiously upon their path, tossing his head, as if enraged that his solitude had been invaded, or probably expecting to encounter the powerful opponent which had banished him in disgrace from his own herd. He was a huge, dark-red animal, with short sharp horns and broad forehead, and his fierce and fiery eye, and loud threatening bellow, denoted him to be a dangerous antagonist.
He stopped for a moment and eyed the horse, then tore round and round, throwing up the earth with his horns, and uttering continually a deep sullen roar. Jack was turning round to avoid the unpleasant meeting, when suddenly the infuriated animal arrested his whirling course, and before Jack could extricate himself from Ruth's arms, to use his spear, the beast had rushed impetuously on the horse, and gored it frightfully. The terrified horse immediately reared, and flung both his riders off.
Jack, though considerably bruised, sprang up, dragged the senseless Ruth out of the path of the mad creature, and placed her under the bushes, and then returned with his spear ready to defend himself; but he found to his great grief his poor horse thrown down, trampled on, and gored by the frenzied animal, which continued to repeat its merciless attacks, regardless of the many wounds inflicted by Wilkins and Hugh, who had galloped up in haste to aid Jack.
At length, tired with goring the horse, the bull turned on Jack, who faced him with his uplifted spear; but before he could strike, Arthur called out to them all to draw back, and, riding up himself, he shot the beast through the head. It fell heavily, and Wilkins dismounted, drew out his knife, and went up to finish the execution; but he was too early, for the powerful animal rose again to his legs, caught the man on his strong brow, and flung him over his head to a considerable distance.
A second shot, however, despatched the bull, and then all went up to Wilkins, whom they found insensible; but, though much bruised and stunned by the fall, he was providentially unwounded by the horns of the formidable animal. The exertions of his distressed friends soon restored the poor man to his senses, and he was able to take little Nakinna, to look at the "big dingo," which astonished her so much, and even Baldabella deigned to express some interest at the sight of an animal so much larger than any she had ever beheld. Wilkins declared it was a shame to leave so much good meat lying to waste on the high road; but they were now in a land of plenty; besides, the dark coarse flesh of the bull was not of a tempting quality, and it was agreed that it might as well be abandoned.
But the question arose, "Where did this bull come from?" It was certainly not an Australian animal; and should it have wandered from any settlement, they might hope that they were not so very far from civilization; and as they discussed the probability, and continued their journey, they looked out carefully lest they should encounter any more wild cattle.
A very narrow passage, between two high wood-covered rocky walls, offered a convenient pass, and even suitable to the warlike plan of O'Brien; and Arthur taking the lead, with Gerald behind him, they ventured to leave the rest at the entrance of the pass, till they had first ascertained the safety and direction of the road.
"Arthur," said Gerald, in a suppressed voice, "I am certain that I hear a rustling in the bushes over our heads. Do stop a moment, and let me send an arrow into the bush."
"Pray forbear, my boy," answered Arthur; "if it should be another wild bull, your arrow would only irritate it; and if, as it is probable, the bush-ranger should be some harmless pigeon or parrot, let it live, we are well provided with food. Let us rather turn our thoughts to these perplexing passages, which strike out on all sides of us, and which will bewilder us till we shall never find our way back to our friends, if we go much further. Now, which of these roads shall we take? After all, Gerald, I think we had better turn back for the rest, and take our chance altogether. Which of these puzzling alleys did we come through?"
"Not that dismal hole, Arthur," answered he, laughing. "We came along here, I remember this beautiful overhanging acacia."
Just as he spoke, some stones fell from above on them; and Gerald, seizing the pendent branch of the acacia, leaped from his horse, and before Arthur could interfere was swinging and climbing up the rock.
"Gerald, you rash fellow," cried Arthur, "what has induced you to such a wild frolic? what are you about to do? Do come down."
"Not before I make out the meaning of the acacia showering down stones on my head, instead of fruit," answered Gerald; and then Arthur heard him say in a tone of astonishment, "Halloo! my friend, what will you please to be looking after?"
In utter amazement and alarm at hearing the boy address any being in that strange solitude, Arthur tied the horses to the tree, and, armed with his gun, climbed the rock so expeditiously, that he arrested Gerald's spear, as he was about to strike a tall, rough-looking man, with whom he was struggling, and who turned round as Arthur appeared, saying, "How many more on ye may there be? We can match ye all, rogues as ye are. Have ye fetched our beast back?"
"My good man," said Arthur, "it seems to me that we have been both mistaken. You take us for bush-rangers, and we thought you belonged to the same thievish community. Now, we are poor travellers, robbed by those rangers, who have, with difficulty, made our escape from the plunderers, destitute of all property."
"Ye'll surelie, not have a face to tell me that, young fellow," answered the man, "when I seed ye mysel' atop of one of our horses."
"That certainly is a suspicious circumstance," answered Arthur, laughing; "and I must tell the truth; we did borrow the horses from our jailers, that we might have the means of making our escape."
"That's likely all flam," said the man. "Howsomever, ye mun come afore our master, and make out yer story. I'se not soft enough to let ye off this like."
"We shall be very glad indeed to see your master," replied Arthur; "especially if he is of our country, and near at hand. Who is he? and where is he?"
"He's a squatter," grumbled the man, "and he's down yonder, seeking out a road to get through these in-and-out walls fit to puzzle a conjuror."
"If you will show us an easier mode of descent than that by which we reached you," said Arthur, "we will not only willingly accompany you; but we will take with us the whole of our party, and the stolen horses into the bargain."
The man looked very suspiciously at the free and easy strangers, but, anxious to recover his master's property, he led them by an easy descent to the pass, and then suffered O'Brien to go and bring up the rest of the party, retaining Arthur as a hostage. But the astonishment of the stranger was very great, when he saw the long line of the travellers filling up the narrow pass; and struck by the venerable appearance of Mr. Mayburn, who rode first, his hard features relaxed, he touched his cap with respect, and rode before the travellers, to be the first to announce to his master this wonderful encounter.
Keeping their guide in sight, they followed him through many narrow and intricate paths, gradually ascending, till they came on a wide and level grass-covered spot, still surrounded by high mountainous walls. A number of horses were feeding on the grass, and at the foot of a majestic and almost perpendicular cliff, clothed with a thick forest, were reposing a party of men, eating their repast, which was spread out upon the grass. One of the party looked round, and, with a cry of joy, the wanderers recognized their friend Edward Deverell.
"Arthur! Hugh!" he exclaimed, "my dear and reverend friend Mr. Mayburn! Margaret too! What pleasure! and what miracle can have brought us together once more in these strange and wild mountains?"
"Your man has brought us up before your worship on a charge of stealing," said Arthur, laughing; "and he certainly did not exceed his duty; he had good grounds for apprehending us, for it seems we are actually travelling on your horses."
"I am glad they are in such good hands," answered Deverell; "but however did my shepherd meet with you?"
"Why, sir," said the man, "ye see, I heared summut like a shot, and off I set, for I was curious like to see what it might be; and I clomb and crambled about, till all at once I hears talking, and I peers through t' bushes, and there I sees one of these here young gents atop of our Sallydun, and says I to myself, 'Them's rangers, they are;' and when young master there clomb up, and defied me like, I thought it were nat'ral that they were rangers, and I laid hands on 'em."
As soon as the man had finished his narrative, repeated and joyful greetings passed between the friends, and Edward Deverell explained that his appearance at such a distance from his home originated in his desire to pursue and capture the audacious bush-rangers who had robbed him of so much property.
"I have brought with me three of my own stock-keepers to identify the cattle," he said; "the rest, as you may see from their complexion and uniform, are of that useful body, the native police."
These dark-complexioned officials were of very striking appearance; their dress was light and scanty, bristling with pistols and sabres; their feet bare, and their hair long and flowing. Their keen, glittering eyes ran over the strangers in a most professional manner, very embarrassing to Wilkins and David, who both held down their heads before the searching glances. David seemed afraid to appear before his injured master, who looked much surprised to see him attached to Mr. Mayburn's party; but discreetly deferred any investigation into the affair, till he should be informed what strange chance had brought the voyagers to India into the very heart of Australia.
"Don't you remember, Edward Deverell," said Hugh, "that Gerald and I always wished to be here, instead of broiling among the Hindoos, and being carried about in palanquins? And I believe Arthur and Margaret longed for it in their hearts, only they conceived it was papa's duty to fulfil his engagement. Yet, after all, it is not our own will, but a happy ordination of Providence, that has at length united us; and now, I suppose, we must follow your example andsquatin Australia."
"But consider the risk, my dear Hugh," said Mr. Mayburn. "Even our experienced friend Deverell has not escaped being plundered by these savages, who are too frequently in union with unscrupulous murderers. I should live in continual dread in these wild regions."
"Why, papa," said Gerald, "there are robbers and murderers even in happy and civilized Britain."
"Doubtless there are, Gerald," said Edward Deverell. "No civilization can eradicate the black spot of our fallen nature; it is only the grace and mercy of God that can keep the evil spirit in subjection. But have no fears, my dear Mr. Mayburn; we must not alarm Margaret when we hope to persuade her to visit our lonely retreat. We have an excellent police staff; and when our servants are properly drilled, and our fences made secure, we shall be as safe as we should be in Europe. Now give the horses to the servants; sit down and eat; and then let me hear your strange adventures."
Arthur was the narrator, and his long and wonderful story produced much sympathy and astonishment in his friendly hearer. At the earnest request of Margaret, the delinquent Davy was pardoned, and reinstalled in his office of stock-keeper; and Mr. Deverell promised to interest himself to obtain the emancipation of Wilkins.
"I must enlist you all to join my small force," said Edward Deverell; "for it is my intention to persevere in my attempt to recover my cattle and punish the robbers. My black allies are of opinion that the men who drove off the cattle will dispose of them to some of those unprincipled dealers who range the interior to pick up such bargains, and who can again sell them for large profits to the Macquarie gold-diggers, who make no inquiries how they were obtained. They must necessarily bring the cattle through the direct pass of these mountains, which is not quite so perplexing as that you had selected; and we are encamped here to watch for and intercept them. From your report, the party will be more numerous than we expected; but the hungry blacks who swell their train, in the hopes of receiving a share of the brandy and tobacco, are no heroes. I think, Hugh, we shall be able to give them a drubbing."
"As if there could be a doubt of it!" said Hugh, contemptuously. "We are all ready to enlist into the ranks, captain, I will engage to say—that is, with the exception of papa and the womankind; the chaplain to the regiment, and the Sisters of Charity who are to attend on the wounded."
"Most useful members of the army they will be," answered Deverell, "if we come to close quarters; for, greatly as I abhor warfare, I do not expect to settle this vexatious matter without bloodshed."
"If ye did, sir," said Wilkins, "ye'd be wrong; and, depend on't, ye'd soon have plenty more such-like customers. If a mad dog were to bite a man, and he let it run off, he'd be safe to bite other folks, and that's not fair. I say, knock him on t' head at first."
"The cases will hardly bear comparison, Wilkins," replied Mr. Mayburn; "and it has ever been a question among reasoning men whether the destitute ought to be subjected to capital punishment for seizing a share of the abundance of the prosperous."
"Robin Hood law!—rob the rich to feed the poor," cried Gerald. "Only think of papa encouraging bush-ranging!"
"My dear Mr. Mayburn, spare your compassion for these rogues," said Deverell, laughing. "These men are not destitute—they are worthless, idle vagabonds, and, according to the by-laws of squatters and settlers, they are amenable to justice. I shall certainly reclaim my own property, give the scoundrels a sound thrashing, and, if they show fight, we are prepared for actual service, and they must take the consequences."
It was long before the party were tired of conversation, and settled to take a secure night's rest; while the watchful police relieved each other, lest the rangers should pass during the night. In the morning they placed themselves in convenient posts on the mountains, where they could command all the approaches; but the day was somewhat advanced when notice was given that objects were seen approaching at a distance. Then the work of preparation actually began; along the heights of the pass were placed the rifle-rangers, as Hugh termed them, consisting of Arthur, Gerald, and himself, Mr. Deverell, and six of the police. Margaret and Mr. Mayburn, with the women, were left in perfect security in the little glen where the encampment was formed; and the rest of the party guarded the end of the pass, to secure any of the enemy who might succeed in reaching it.
"We conclude," said Mr. Deverell, "that the rangers, who doubtless are well acquainted with the pass, will drive the cattle on before them. Now we propose to secure these as they issue from this walled passage, and when they are all again in our possession, the stock-keepers must be ready to drive them off; while the rest of our troop must intercept and capture the drivers, to prevent pursuit. And now, Davy, I will test your fidelity again. Will you take up your whip and set off with our beasts to the station?"
"If ye'd not object, master," said Davy, humbly, "I'd as lief have a shot among 'em afore I set out, specially at that deep, black-hearted rogue Peter, as put an end to our Bill. I can't say, master, Bill didn't get far wrang; but Peter's out and out a worse chap, and it wasn't his place to kill a better fellow nor hisself."
"You will obey my orders, Davy," said his master, "and leave the punishment of Peter in our hands. I will take care he shall suffer for his misdeeds; and you will do your duty best by looking after your old four-footed friends. Have the rogues spared poor Lily, David? She was of a fine breed, Gerald, and I was deeply incensed at the rogues for selecting her to carry off."
"Bless ye, master, they count nought of breeds," answered Davy; "all they want is to kill plenty for beef, and to swop all they've left for spurrits and backy; Lily was to t' fore when I cut off from 'em, bonnie cretur, but she'll be hard up, if they've brought her this far. She always kenned me, master, and let me milk her; but she niver could bide them black fellows nigh hand her."
"Very good, Davy," answered Deverell. "Then your duty is to drive off Lily, and as many more beasts as you can manage, to this glen; and to remain here with Mr. Mayburn till we come up, as we hope, with our prisoners. Then we shall set out in good spirits on our long journey to Daisy Grange."
In a quarter of an hour all the arrangements were made, the brave defenders were all ready: by this time the procession was close to the mountains; the bush-rangers were driving the cattle before them, followed by Peter, with his black troop. He now appeared painted like his men with the peculiar insignia of war and defiance, his body being marked in red lines in the form of a skeleton, a decoration he had probably adopted to conciliate the natives.
The weary cattle were slowly urged into the narrow rock-bound path, one of the rangers heading them, to lead them along the right pass, the rest following them closely. The confined path rung with the lowing of the alarmed and reluctant cattle, forced onward cruelly by the spears of their drivers, whose wild and terrific oaths completed the discordant tumult. At length, when the cattle-leader emerged from the narrow part of the pass to a more open space, and had his face turned back to see that the line of animals was properly brought forward, he was easily seized, gagged, and bound by the dexterous police. Then, as the animals one after another appeared, they were driven off by the stock-keepers to the glen.
The rest of the party were prepared to capture the rangers as they followed the cattle; but the sudden cry of the leader, who had been seized, and which was easily distinguished amidst the clamor of the noisy cattle, was heard by Peter. The shrewd man at once comprehended the opposition that awaited them, and calling on his black fellows to wield their spears and follow him, he rushed on, with his men behind him, to the scene of conflict. The police on the heights allowed him and some of his black followers to proceed a little forward, and then fired a volley down into the midst of the blacks that were left behind, who, surprised and bewildered, and ever terrified at the effects of fire-arms, turned back tumultuously and fled. In vain the desperate Black Peter shouted to rally his followers, and fought desperately against the men at the end of the pass with the few supporters he had brought on. He and his troops were soon overpowered, and all captured and bound, with very little bloodshed.
"Huzza!" cried Gerald; "a glorious victory! Arthur, you must write the despatch; naming the superior force of the enemy, the cool and determined bravery of the little body of defenders, the desperate resistance of the furious bush-rangers, their complete discomfiture; and, finally, you must particularly mention the prudent, vigorous, and successful support of the young Lieutenant O'Brien, who is recommended for promotion."
"Margaret will consider us all heroes," said Hugh; "and we must hasten on as speedily as possible to allay her anxiety for us. But, Captain Deverell, whatever are we to do with these prisoners?"
"We are bound to convey or send the dangerous bush-rangers to Sydney," answered Deverell, "there to be dealt with according to law. As for the cowardly, treacherous, and ignorant natives, we must devise some punishment for them; but, if possible, we will not encumber ourselves with them, nor be obliged to feed them on our journey. For the present we must contrive to keep them in some place of security till the police return from their useless chase of the unhappy blacks who have fled."
"And who will, I hope, escape," said Arthur; "for they are but tools in the hands of these abandoned convicts, and are scarcely themselves responsible for their deeds of evil."
"See here," said Gerald; "this large cave would make a good jail, and we might build up the entrance."
"Then ye'll have to look about for a lot of caves, Master Gerald," said Wilkins, "and lodge 'em, as they say down t' country, on t' separate system, or we'se find all our birds flown to-morrow morning, I'll engage. Why, bless you, if that there Black Peter was shut up for a day wi' a new-born babby, he'd make 't a rogue for life. He'd make a parson into a bush-ranger, give him a bit of time; and my fancy is as how he's helped by that bad 'un as is his master; God save us!"
"There is no doubt, Wilkins," said Mr. Mayburn, "that the Great Spirit of Evil does readily and unfailingly stretch forth his hand to aid his wicked followers, and we should all join in your prayer, my good man. May God save us in the hour of temptation!"
Around the little hollow where the encampment was found, and where the young heroes were joyfully welcomed, were many small caves in the rocks, in which the prisoners, black and white, were separately enclosed. One of the stock-keepers had received a spear-wound in his arm; and one of the misguided natives was killed by a rifle-shot. These were all the casualties. When the police returned from the pursuit of the black fugitives, who had taken refuge in a thick wood, after many of them had been severely wounded, Mr. Deverell requested that all further pursuit should be relinquished, as the cattle were recovered and the ringleaders were now in confinement, which he knew would be a terrible punishment to them, even though it were only for one night.
Margaret and Mr. Mayburn paid every care and attention to the wounded man, and when all their duties were fulfilled, the united friends sat down, to rest on the green turf, and to talk of the hopeful future.
"Now, we are all anxious to know, Edward Deverell," said Hugh, "if you have got your house built, or if you are all dwelling in tents; and, above all, what kind of place is Daisy Grange?"
"I have got my house built, Hugh," answered he, "and Daisy Grange I will leave undescribed, only assuring you that it will be completely a paradise in my eyes when I see you all there, which I trust will be before many days are passed."
"And the daisies?" inquired Margaret.
"The daisies were at first coy and capricious in their new home," answered he, "but finally they have yielded to care and perseverance, and consented to adorn my small lawn, in sufficient numbers to justify me in retaining the dear name for my much beloved home."
"And what does Emma do in the wilderness?" asked Hugh.
"She cultivates flowers," replied Deverell, "sews on buttons, and performs other needful female occupations, plays, sings, reads, and is not ashamed to assist her mother, and Susan the dairy-maid, to make the butter and cheese."
"Is that Susan Raine?" asked Margaret, anxiously, for she saw Wilkins looking at Mr. Deverell with much agitation. "Is that the pretty, modest Susan, that was our fellow-voyager?"
"It is the same girl," answered Deverell. "Poor Susan, we are all very sorry for her; she had to endure a grievous disappointment, for she had taken the opportunity of accompanying us, as our servant, in order that she might join her betrothed, a wild fellow that had been transported for some venial offence; and when we reached Melbourne, and instituted the regular inquiry, we found the man had made his escape in an India vessel, with some vile wretches who had been working with him. I fear he is wholly unworthy of the good girl, who still mourns so deeply for him."
"He's nought but a reg'lar scoundrel," said Wilkins, impetuously, "he is; and she'd sarved him right if she'd gone and wed another; that's what she has done likely, sir?"
"That is what I certainly wished her to do," said Deverell, looking surprised at the free interference of Wilkins; "but the silly girl is still haunted by the wild hope of reclaiming the unfortunate man who was the companion of her childhood. She has refused the young herdsman who is so kindly attended by Miss Margaret; a worthy fellow, and has determined to remain unmarried for the sake of the convict who has so cruelly neglected her."
"That's like my bonnie true-hearted lass," said Wilkins, much excited. "Scamp as I were to lose her! But now please, Miss Margaret, to put in a word like for me. Tell t' master I'se nought like so bad but that there's some hopes of me, if Sue will take up wi' me; but how can I look for't?"
Margaret undertook to explain Wilkins's position to Deverell, and to plead for him to Susan; and the rough convict turned away with a tear in his eye, as the recollection of youthful and innocent days shone through the mist of evil deeds that had darkened his mature life.
Mr. Deverell was pleased with the story of Wilkins, and as he would be far removed from temptation at the settlement, and would be carefully watched by his good friends, he promised to bestow Susan on him; and now they prepared to break up the encampment, and to pursue their journey under pleasant auspices.
"But before we set out," said Mr. Deverell, "it will be necessary to come to some, arrangement about our troublesome prisoners. We must hold a court of justice, as imposing as circumstances will permit, and endeavor to alarm them, and make a salutary impression on them."
"There is a handsome rocky throne for the bench," said Hugh. "Please to ascend to the elevation, Mr. Judge Deverell, and look as grave as you possibly can; papa will sit by you in the character of Mercy, to mitigate the severity of Justice. Arthur and Gerald must take that hill, and Jack and I will remain here to represent counsel. We will not take the trouble to call a jury, because I know my lord judge has made up his mind about the sentence. Now, all you people stand round, and leave a passage for the police to bring up the prisoners. Will this do, my lord?"
"I am content, Hugh, provided you all look serious," answered Deverell. "You must make the most of our strength, and display your arms to advantage. With these ignorant natives, in their present condition, intimidation is the only mode of subjection. I hope the time is not very distant when milder measures may be used to win them to civilization. We are commencing the work by educating the children."
The glen was first cleared by sending the stock-keepers forward with the cattle, as their progress must necessarily be slow; then, one after another, the police released the trembling, crouching savages from the caves, and brought them before the judge. The poor wretches, at the sight of the array of guns and spears before them, endured all the terrors of death. Deverell, who had acquired some facility in speaking their language, made a long address to the terrified men; reproaching them with their folly and ingratitude in robbing him, who had never refused to assist them in their days of destitution, and who earnestly desired their welfare. He warned them of the danger of dealing with the bush-rangers, who always deceived them, and of frequenting the bush taverns to obtain the poisonous liquor which would in the end destroy their whole nation. He threatened them with instant death if they dared to transgress again; and then, satisfied with the fright he had given them, he relieved them from their misery by giving them leave to depart; a permission which they did not delay a moment to make use of; but sprung up the rocks, and speedily disappeared to seek the concealment of the bush.
There remained now only the four vile bush-rangers to dispose of; but these men, all escaped convicts, Mr. Deverell declined to punish, proposing to commit them to the charge of four of the mounted police, who were to conduct them, or, as these officials appropriately expressed it, to drive them to Sydney, and there deliver them into the hands of justice.
These ruffians were therefore brought from their respective dungeons, and manacled two together; their persons were searched, lest they should have any concealed arms; and their legs were then released from the fetters. Peter, who obstinately refused to submit to the incumbrance of clothing, required no search, and was coupled to one of his bush ranging friends, loudly showering curses on his conquerors.
"Do you mean us to set out fasting with these malignant scoundrels?" he yelled out. "Ye're fine Christians, to hunger folks. And ye know as well as we do these greedy black rascals will prig all our rations on t' road."
Mr. Deverell did know that the black police were scandalously harsh with their white prisoners, and he therefore ordered that these wretched criminals should sit down for half an hour, and be supplied with a plentiful breakfast of cold meat, which they began to devour ravenously, watched curiously by Ruth, who concealed herself in a thicket, that she might look in safety at these terrible bush-rangers. All the rest of the party, glad to avoid the sight of the wretches, wandered off to another little glen which opened from their encampment, except Mr. Deverell and Arthur, who had called the police to one side to give them a strict charge to be watchful and determined, but at the same time to treat their prisoners with humanity.
While they were conversing, they were startled and alarmed by a scream from Ruth, who, they believed, had left the encampment with the rest of the party, and on turning round they saw, to their great vexation, the ranger who had been linked with Peter galloping off on the horse of one of the police, which, ready for starting, had been tied to a tree near the prisoners. The police mounted the other three horses that were ready, and speedily pursued the fugitive; while Deverell and Arthur went up in haste, and found, to their extreme mortification, that the villain Peter was also missing. The remainder of the party, recalled from their ramble by the shriek of Ruth, had now joined them; and when the agitated girl was able to give an account of the occurrence, she said:—
"He reached out, and took a cloak off t' horse, and groped in t' pockets till he fetched out summut, maybe a key, for I heard a click; and then Peter jumped up and laid hands on t' horse; but t' other fellow was sharp after him, and pushed him off, and loped atop on his back hisself, and galloped off like mad, and left Peter standing. Oh master! how awful he swore and stamped about, and took off right up to me, and I shrieked out; and then he scrambled up yon wood." And Ruth pointed to the precipitous wood-covered wall of the glen.
They had not time to consider what steps to take, when Wilkins cried out, "Yon's the rogue;" and they caught a glimpse of the painted figure of the fugitive among the trees, at a height which seemed almost impossible to reach, for they all considered this precipitous rock inaccessible.
"We must not let the villain escape us," cried Jack, "or he will be sure to lead more poor wretches astray. Some of you follow me." And, without further delay, he caught hold of the branches of the lowest tree, and swung himself up, grasping the overhanging boughs, and forcing his way through the entangled bushes with toil and danger, while Ruth continued to cry out like a distracted creature.
It was strange, that in this dilemma the usual cool presence of mind of the fearless and determined ruffian seemed to forsake him. If he had sought the labyrinthine passages of the widely-spread mountain, he might easily have bewildered his pursuers; but he continually exposed himself to observation through the trees on the mountain-side.
Wilkins and one of the herdsmen of Mr. Deverell soon followed Jack, their whole mind bent on capturing this treacherous and sanguinary villain. Behind them, urged by curiosity, anxiety for her brother, and detestation of Black Peter, the excited girl Ruth, notwithstanding the efforts of her friends, plunged through the bushes to follow them, shouting wildly to her brother when she caught glimpses of the spectral figure of the convict, with the red lines painted on his body.
Onward up that tedious ascent the practised bush-ranger proceeded, not even pausing for breath; and his half-exhausted pursuers began to fear he would escape them; but, after half an hour's struggle, a light gleamed through the trees. They believed they were coming to a more open space, when, rather than allow the convict to escape, the men resolved to use their guns. The next minute they emerged from the wood, and the whole party shrunk back, astonished at the magnificent scene that lay before them. A few feet from the wood a vast abyss opened. The eye could not penetrate its depths: it appeared fathomless and dark, for on all sides it was bounded by the perpendicular cliff which descended from the verge of the forest.
For a moment only could the dizzy sight regard that terrific descent, from which only three feet of solid earth separated them; and they clung to the trees, as they looked round to search for the fugitive. To their great horror, they beheld the desperate man, making his way along the narrow hem of earth, supported by a spear he had caught up on one hand, and holding by the trees on the other, and apparently seeking for a convenient spot where he might again descend into the wood. He stopped and turned round, and observing his pursuers, who feared even to use their guns in such a perilous position, the vindictive wretch poised and flung the spear. But before it had even reached its destination, a yell of mortal terror was heard; the shelf of rock on which he stood, gave way under the impetuosity of his movement; and the doomed wretch was hurled into that vast space, beyond the reach of human eyes, his shrieks of horror growing fainter as he sank into death. While at the same time, from the tree which he had grasped, and which shook as he fell, rose a flight of black cockatoos, mocking with their loud strange cries his fearful fate.
"Lord have mercy on him!" exclaimed Jack, covering his face, and struck with awe.
"It's a judgment, man," said Wilkins. "Just see how this poor fellow is bleeding with the rogue's last will and deed."
The spear of Peter had entered the breast of the herdsman, who was bleeding profusely. Wilkins drew out the weapon, and Jack, seeing Ruth at his side, who had succeeded in reaching him in time to see the catastrophe, despatched her in haste to the encampment, to send aid for the wounded man.
Fearful of looking any longer at that dark and terrible grave of the sinful wretch, the girl tumbled down through the steep wood, and rushing up to Mr. Mayburn and Margaret, said, "He's carried off alive! Them bad spirits,—them! them!—have flown away with Black Peter;" and the distracted girl positively shrieked as she pointed to a pair of harmless black cockatoos perched on a fig-tree, which were curiously peering down on the strange creatures below; and most assuredly the coal-black plumage, lofty crest, and fan tail, striped with bars of fiery scarlet, gave to the birds an unearthly and fiend-like appearance.
"Can anybody extract sense from the exclamations of this wild girl?" asked Mr. Mayburn, much distressed. "Ascertain, Margaret, how the wretched man has escaped."
"I tell ye," continued Ruth, with decision, "I seed them black creaters, wi' my own eyes, take him up, and flee away wi' him, down into a black pit; and poor Tom Atkinson's hit wi' a spear, and ye're to clamber up t' wood to doctor him."
On the whole, the deduction drawn from Ruth's incoherent narrative was, that the presence of some of the party was needed; and Mr. Deverell and Mr. Mayburn, supplied with cold water and linen bandages, set out to climb through the wood, on the beaten track of the pursued and the pursuers; but before they had half ascended, they met with Wilkins and Jack, bearing the wounded man with difficulty through the matted and steep wood. When they were relieved by additional assistance, they soon reached the glen, and satisfied the anxiety of the perplexed family by a correct recital of the awful fate of the villanous bush-ranger.
"It's just what might have come to me, and I'd been but reet sarved," said Wilkins, "if it hadn't been for ye all. I reckon it pleased God to send ye, just o' purpose to bring round a good-to-naught chap, as not a soul else would notish, or hauld out a finger to save. Poor reprobate! Ye ken a deal of things, Miss Marget; can ye say what Peter was seeing afore him, when he yelled out, fleeing down into that black hole?"
"God be merciful to the sinner!" said Margaret. "It is not for us, Wilkins, to speak of that which God hides from us; but rather to prepare, that we may be ready for a sudden call to judgment."
It was not long before the police returned with the fugitive, whom they had overtaken and captured. He was now secured with the other two rangers, and Peter being disposed of, there was nothing to prevent the police from proceeding with their prisoners to Sydney; and the guards and captives set out on their long journey, leaving the united party very thankful for their separation from the wretched delinquents. The next morning, after praying for a blessing on their expedition, the happy friends set forward cheerfully, now safely guided by Edward Deverell, and hoping, before long, to reach the long-desired haven of peace and rest.
But many a day of toil and anxiety still succeeded: the privations of the barren and dry desert, the perils of rude mountain-passes, and the fording deep and foaming rivers, besides the subtle and vindictive pursuit of various unfriendly tribes of natives. At length they attained in safety the fertile banks of a broad and rapid river, which Mr. Deverell and his followers greeted with shouts of joy.
"My good Mr. Mayburn," said Edward Deverell, "I call on you now to offer up a thanksgiving to Him who has led us in safety through the wilderness. This river is our guide and highway; it flows on to our own much-loved home; it is the blessing and ornament, dear Margaret, of Daisy Grange."
All joined with Christian earnestness in a thanksgiving for the mercies which even the lately awakened and reformed criminals could appreciate and understand; and Edward Deverell rejoiced to see that the two convicts, Wilkins and Davy, would not be a dangerous addition to his little Christian community.
"Now, my dear friends," said Edward Deverell, "we may trust that our progress may be unimpeded. This fertile soil, watered by the river, will restore our enfeebled cattle; then we shall have milk with our flour cakes, which, prepared by the skilful hand of Jenny, disdain fellowship with the heavy 'damper' of the Australian traveller. If this abundant food does not satisfy us, the trees will give us birds, and the river fish, to diversify our diet. Ought we not to rejoice?"
"If you please, Mr. Deverell," said Jenny, "yon's a bonnie flock of geese; couldn't ye get us one for a roast?"
"We must have more than one for our large party, Jenny," said Deverell, laughing. "Come, boys, let us have a shot at Jenny's geese, and secure one specially for Mr. Mayburn's new museum."
Delighted with the prospect of sport, the boys were soon ready, and returned from the banks of the river with two pair of these large birds. Edward Deverell held out one of them to Jenny, saying, "Now, my good woman, can you tell me what this fowl is?"
"A gray goose, Mr. Deverell, sure enough," answered Jenny. Then regarding it closely, she added, "but it has a queer short neb, sir; it's like all things in this country, it's just unnat'ral."
"Nurse, it is no more a goose than you are," said Hugh; "it israra avis, papa, that is,—a bird of Australia."
"I recognize it with delight," said Mr. Mayburn, "from the description of Latham and later ornithologists, who class it as a new genus; and from the curiouscerewhich envelopes the base of the bill, he names itCereopsis. Still it belongs to the swimming birds, though the legs are naked above the joint, and the membrane between the toes does not form the web foot. It is, therefore, less fitted for the water than the goose or swan, and is more strictly a wader, living, not on fish, but vegetable food. In fact, it is a much handsomer bird than the goose, and I would gladly preserve it, if I had the means."
"You will have means and opportunity at the Deverell station, my dear Mr. Mayburn," said Edward. "My brother Charles will supply the means, and assist you to form a museum; and Emma has domesticated a flock of these birds, which in common parlance are known as the short-billed geese; and I can assure you the flesh is most delicate, very unlike that of the common water-fowls which live on fish."
"I rejoice much, Edward Deverell," said Mr. Mayburn, "that you concur with me in admiring the works of nature,—a taste which I have endeavored to implant in my children. I remember the words of a clever writer. 'To look on the creation with an eye of interest and feeling, must be ever acceptable to the Creator. To trace out the several properties of his works, and to study with diligence and humility their laws, their uses, and operations, is an employment worthy the immortal mind of man; since it is one of those studies which we may reasonably hope will survive beyond the grave.'"
"How delighted I am that dear little Emmy is taking the first steps of study in ornithology, by setting up a poultry-yard," said Hugh. "We had many disputes about waste of time in such useless pursuits, in which I did not escape without much contumely for my bird lore. My generous retaliation shall be to improve her collection. I will get her the black swan, the talegalla, the apteryx...."
"And the emu and ornithorhynchus would look well in the poultry-yard, Hugh," said Gerald, laughing.
"That would be a great error, my dear boys," said Mr. Mayburn. "The habits of the ornithorhynchus are directly opposed to the domestic arrangements of the poultry-yard: it is not even a fowl; it is an unclassed animal, of burrowing and diving propensities, and would be a troublesome, if not a dangerous, inmate among domestic fowls."
"I will leave it to Hugh and Emma to arrange the foreigners as they may judge best," said Mr. Deverell; "but I know all our English fowls are furiously national, and would resent the introduction of strangers, even to bloodshed. Even the civil wars of the community tax the patience of Emma and her handmaid Susan greatly; and she has threatened to reduce their numbers, now become enormous."
"I can supply her with an assistant poultry-maid," said Margaret; "my poor Ruth is devotedly attached to fowls, and can manage them better than she can do any thing else in the world. Ruth, would you not like to be Mr. Deverell's poultry-woman?"
"I would like to be amang 'em, bonnie creaters!" answered Ruth, with great joy, "if you be there Miss Marget, and if they be cocks and hens; and if them black fellows will not run off wi' them."
"Our black neighbors are all tame, Ruth," answered Mr. Deverell. "We employ those who can be taught to work, clothe the women, and teach the children; and in times of scarcity or sickness, we feed and attend them. As far as their ignorant and dull nature will allow, we have reason to think that gratitude or policy would prevent them from injuring us or our property."
"But the bush-rangers," said Margaret; "are you not ever in fear of the crafty, vindictive bush-rangers?"
"During our journey," answered Mr. Deverell, "it is necessary that we should be watchful; but our black police have reduced the number of these vagabonds greatly, and our party is too formidable to be openly defied. We must necessarily pass, now and then, one of those infamous, lonely, road-side bush-taverns, as they are called, at which these villains are in the habit of congregating, that they may exchange their plunder for spirits and tobacco with the men at the station, who then forward the cattle to Sydney or to the gold-diggings. But our police-followers are well acquainted with these detestable stations, and are always prepared for any assault. Above all, dear Margaret, we have a precious charge, and think ourselves a band of brave fellows; every day diminishes our danger, for it brings us nearer to our own inhabited grounds, where the villains might venture to plunder secretly, but would certainly not dare to show themselves."
"But are your retainers spread about the estate?" said Hugh. "I thought you intended to build a town."
"I scarcely aim so high, Hugh," replied Deverell. "My stock-keepers are scattered over the cleared land in huts, to look after the cattle. I live in my castle, like a feudal lord, surrounded by my vassals, who have erected rude temporary huts. But if you will all agree to settle round me, we will really found a colony. I will make an application to purchase, instead of leasing, my immense tract of land. We will divide and cultivate it, which I never could do alone; and we will begin to build a handsome village, or perhaps two villages—one named Mayburn, and the other Deverell."
"Please, sir, have you plenty of timber?" asked Jack, roused at the prospect of work.
"You will see my woods and forests soon, Jack," answered Mr. Deverell. "Then I have inexhaustible quarries of stone in the mountains, and some good quarrymen and stonecutters on my establishment. We will have a regular English village, with a green for sports, and pleasant gardens to the cottages."
For a few days more they travelled pleasantly over the grassy turf; then they came on almost impenetrable brushwood; and as this formidable obstacle to their progress would require vigor to overcome it, they encamped to spend the night, and commence their fatigue with the morning light. But they found conversation and repose equally impossible, from the disturbance caused by the restless movements and incessant bellowing of the cattle, which struggled to escape from the pens in which their attendants had confined them. Hugh went up to them with some curiosity, to know what was the cause of this unusual excitement amongst the quiet creatures. The herdsmen were all grinning and rubbing their hands with great glee.
"Well, Patrick," said Deverell to one of the men, "what is the jest that you seem to enjoy so much?"
"It's the bastes, master," answered the man exultingly; "they know where they are, the craters! Don't they smell the smell of their own comrades, sinsible darlings! And it isn't the brush they'd mind if we were giving them lave to it. Isn't it a short cut they'd make to come at them as is of their own blood! True old Irish they are, and illegant bastes. Arrah, didn't them rogues see that when they came kidnapping? and didn't they choose them out, in regard that there were no bastes to be seen like them! Bad luck to the rappareens!"
"Can it be possible," asked Margaret, "that we are really so near to Daisy Grange that the animals scent it?"
"We are a long day's journey yet from Daisy Grange," answered Deverell; "but it is true that we are not far from the borders of my extensive estate. This formidable thorny brushwood forms, in fact, the boundary and defence on this side, neither easy nor desirable to penetrate. A very large portion of the interior of my land is not only uncultivated, but is even unknown to me. We take care, however, to have cattle-stations and hut-keepers round the boundaries, that our rights may be recognized and preserved; and doubtless these weary wanderers have been stolen from one of the border stations, and now scent with great satisfaction their old companions, and their old quiet, luxurious homes."
"Then I suppose we may conclude," said Gerald, "that if we understood the vaccine gamut, we should hear that big old red cow bellowing 'Home! sweet home!' And don't I wish we could join her, for I don't like the look of that ugly scrub we shall have to carry our horses through."
"Not altogether ugly," said Margaret; "look at this curious and interesting Banksia, with its stiff yellow robe; the white star-like blossoms of this shrub, which resembles our myrtle; and here is our old friend the tea-shrub."
"Which Jenny will have to relinquish now," said Deverell, "for the real tea of China, of which we have a goodly store. But, Jem, or some of you men over there, be pleased to fire a shot or two to chase away those intolerable noisy dingoes, which, doubtless, like the ogre, smell fresh meat, and would like to make a foray on our game."
"Let us shoot a dingo, Edward," said Hugh; "I should like to look at the fellow closely."
"It is scarcely consistent with humanity," answered Deverell, "to destroy an animal that can be of no use to us; but we have an excuse in the wolfish character of the dingo, which destroys our sheep in numbers, if not closely watched; and nothing affords my shepherds and herdsmen more gratification than to trap or shoot one of these marauders." Hugh had the gratification of shooting thedingo, orwarragle, as Baldabella named it, and bringing it in for Arthur and his father to inspect. Margaret retired in disgust, the intolerable smell of the fierce-looking little animal was so offensive.
"From its destructive habits," said Mr. Mayburn, "I should have expected to see a larger animal; but of its wolfish ferocity there seems no doubt. It is remarkable that it is, unlike the land quadrupeds yet found in Australia, carnivorous, and not marsupial; thus confirming the theory that the race of dogs is to be found in every known region of the world. This dingo is a degraded representative of the noble animal, crafty, bloodthirsty, and untamable. I am satisfied with seeing this specimen, but I cannot admire the creature."
Before the first gleam of day, while the moon yet lighted up the heavens, the impatient travellers set out to cross the bush; and for more than two hours the long cavalcade wound with toil and difficulty through the tangled thorny bush. At length the lowing of other cattle than their own greeted their ears, and the fresher breeze that came over the cleared ground announced that they had passed the boundary, and were now actually entering the domain of Mr. Deverell. In a short time the mingled and familiar cries of the drovers and their charge roused the first stock-man in his hut, who rushed out in great joy to welcome the return of the expedition.
"Ay, ay, sir!" said the man, "I see they've picked out and made an end of the choicest of the stock; it's like their ways;" and he grumbled out his wishes that certain evil consequences might attend their unlawful feasts on his chosen favorites, and concluded by caressing those which had happily escaped being devoured by the robbers. He then proposed to send forward one of the shepherds to announce the good news; but the travellers, now relieved from the charge of the cattle, and having passed through the greatest difficulties of their journey, agreed to proceed forward without delay, and announce in their own persons the success of the expedition at head-quarters.
They crossed a vast tract of wild and beautiful forest ground, which was still uncleared, but at this season bright with rich flowers, and noisy with the birds that thronged the tall trees; and continued to ride forward till the heat of the noonday sun compelled them to rest two hours most reluctantly in a shady grove. Then, once more mounting, they rode forward to enter on a new region. Before them lay spread large, well-cultivated, fenced lands, stocked with sheep and cattle, and dotted here and there with the snug neat huts of the shepherds and stock-keepers; while the lowing and bleating of the animals, and the distant barking of dogs, and sound of English voices, were music to the charmed ears of the weary travellers. "His name be praised!" said Mr. Mayburn, reverently uncovering his head, "who has led us through the dry and barren wilderness to a land of plenty and peace."
The whole party were deeply affected at the first glimpse of home scenery and home sounds; but Deverell looked round with much anxiety till he caught sight of a respectable-looking man riding among the cattle at a distance, whom he hailed, and the man rode forward in haste, calling out, "Welcome home, master."
"Thanks, Harris; but tell me, is all well at the Grange?" asked Deverell.
"Charming, sir," answered he; "saw them all this morning. Old mistress quite brisk, asking after the lambs; and Miss, throng with her poultry, and telling me to look after some grain for them. And here comes Mr. Edward, sir, to answer for himself."
"Halloo! Charley," cried Edward, riding up to shake hands with his brother, "my good fellow, what have you been about, and what in the world has induced you to bring the prisoners with you?" and he looked with suspicion and annoyance at the large party of distressed and ragged followers, who had purposely turned away from him. At last Margaret looked round and smiled, and the delighted young fellow laughed with joy at seeing his old friends, and with amusement at their miserable condition.
"My dear Margaret! my good friends!" he exclaimed, "I am quite wild with surprise and pleasure. Never mind your ragged furbelows; little Emma is a capital needlewoman, and will sew up all those great rents."
"It will be a great blessing to me," said Margaret, laughing, "to see a needle again."
"A needle, Margaret!" exclaimed Charles, "we have millions of needles; Edward has a storehouse crammed with every thing that everybody can want, under every circumstance. He could supply a large English country town with goods; chests of needles, walls built up of paper, acres of that muslin stuff you wear, so suitable to the thorny bush. Ask for what you will, you can have it at Edward's grand bazaar."
"If you please, Mr. Charles," said Jack, "do you think Mr. Edward has any tools?"
"You have only to speak, Jack," answered he; "we can supply you with the appliances of the arts, from a steam-engine to a delicate lancet. I am a clever shopman, and shall be happy to do the honors of the bazaar."
"Indeed, Charles, you are a very troublesome and disorderly shopman," said his brother, "as my store-keeper declares, creating vast confusion among his neatly-arranged shelves. Allowing for some exaggeration, my dear friends, Charles has told you the fact. I found my poor people had to pay so extravagantly for the little luxuries and necessaries of life they required, either from the extortions of itinerant dealers, who are dangerous visitors to admit into a settlement, or from the expense of journeys to Sydney or Melbourne to make their purchases, that I resolved to supply them at moderate prices myself, which I am enabled to do by bringing wagon-loads of goods from Sydney, and furnishing a large storehouse which I had built for the purpose."
"But are you not afraid of the bush-rangers being attracted by your valuable storehouse?" asked Mr. Mayburn.
"I have a clever-managing store-keeper, who, with his assistant, sleeps in the place, where they have arms, two fierce dogs, and an alarm-bell loud enough to rouse the whole hamlet. Besides, our bush-rangers prefer highway robbery, or raids on the cattle, to the more dangerous attempts at house-breaking. You need fear no bush-rangers, my dear Mr. Mayburn, if you were once within the walls of my castle, where I trust to welcome you speedily. Now I wish you to look at the beautiful variety of timber trees which I have left standing as ornaments to my spacious park."
It was amongst these varied and extraordinary trees that the cavalcade were now passing. Several varieties of theEucalyptusand the palm tribe, with their bare tall trunks and crested heads, were mingled with white or golden-blossomed acacias; theHibiscus, peculiar to Australia; the drooping grass-tree; and one spreading fig-tree stood like a natural temple, with its pillar-like roots entwined with elegant creeping plants, with a grace beyond the reach of art. Beneath these trees the turf was resplendent with spring flowers, on which were quietly grazing flocks of white sheep, supplying the place of the aristocratic deer. As they issued from the woodland upon a grassy glade, sloping gently to the banks of the river, Charles rode forward to announce the glad tidings at Daisy Grange, which was now in sight on a pretty eminence, backed by higher hills, which stretched beyond into gray mountains. As they rode slowly forward on their worn-out horses, Mr. Mayburn was lost in admiration of the curious and happily-blended trees, and Edward Deverell said,—
"The names given by the colonists to these new and remarkable trees are puzzling and inapplicable. This tree, named by them the red cedar, is certainly not a cedar; though it is very useful, being our best timber tree, the wood resembling mahogany. The apple-tree bears no fruit, and has no claim whatever to the tantalizing name. The rose-wood, so called from its delicate perfume, is a kind ofMeliaceæ, the fruit of which is uneatable. Then we have the cherry,Exocarpus, the fruit of which is useless, and peculiarly unlike the dear old cherry of England, with which, however, I trust to regale you in a few months. I can already discover the white blossoms of the tree peeping over my garden walls; and I propose that we give these tired horses to the men, and walk up the hill, that you may contemplate leisurely the imposing appearance of my baronial hall."
But however Edward Deverell might depreciate his mansion, the distressed wanderers regarded its appearance with admiration and delight as they passed over the sloping lawn, laid out with excellent taste inparterresof gay-colored flowers rising from the green turf, which was enamelled with the daisies of England; and saw the pretty house which offered them shelter after fifteen months of wandering.
The building, though entirely of wood, was picturesque and spacious. It was surrounded by a large garden, beyond which were raised the large storehouse; stables, and farm-buildings. Along the front of the house was a broad veranda, supported by columns, entwined with roses, honeysuckles, and the well-loved creeping flowers of England, now bursting into blossom; while the large portico was curtained with draperies of the rich flowering climbers of Australia—the convolvulus, the curious passion-flower, and other graceful unknown plants, to stimulate the curiosity of the botanists.
But it was not at this moment that all the beauties of the Grange were observed, for the hospitable doors stood open, and the agitated party were hurried into the cool and spacious hall, where Mrs. Deverell and her smiling daughter waited to welcome Edward and his unexpected companions.
The excitement of the reception was great: such screams of wonder and delight! so many tears at the thoughts of the trials and sufferings of the wanderers and so much laughter at their tattered condition! Then succeeded such haste and bustle to procure immediate aid to restore to them the comforts of which they had been so long deprived, and to spread the hospitable board with the refreshments so long untasted.
It was only by interjections and extorted answers that any details of their trials were known at first. It was necessary that they should be restored to the likeness of civilized beings; and the servants vied with their master and mistress in providing food and raiment for the needy.
"Tell me, dear Emma," said Margaret, as she brushed her dishevelled hair and arrayed herself in a clean muslin dress belonging to her friend,—"tell me if you have still, and unmarried, the pretty dairy-maid, Susan Raine, who accompanied you from England. One of our faithful attendants, though rude and unpolished, will be broken-hearted if he does not find his Susan here."
"But surely, Margaret," answered Emma, "you are not speaking of the graceless convict, Wilkins? You alarm me, for the good girl has told me her whole history; and, though she is unwilling to allow it, there is no doubt the man behaved basely in inducing her to come over from England to join him, only to find the worthless fellow had absconded."
"But let me explain his conduct to you, Emma," said Margaret; "let me tell you his story of sins and repentance and then I hope you will consent to be his mediator and friend."
Then, before they descended to join the rest, Margaret told her friend all the circumstances of Wilkins's temptation, fall, and happy reformation after having been thrown amongst them; and this was the first part of the adventures of the travellers that was related at Daisy Grange. And when the girls told Mrs. Deverell this tale of trials, she promised that Susan, who was now engaged in the dairy, should have the unexpected event properly revealed to her before she was introduced to her much-lamented friend.
The travellers scarcely recognized each other in their amended appearance, for which they had been indebted to the wardrobes of their friends; and they now proceeded to the large dining-room, where the table was spread with the plenty of an English home. Beef and mutton from the fields; fowls from the poultry-yard; pastry made by Emma; fruit and vegetables from the garden, and cream from the dairy. To these homely luxuries was added home-brewed ale from the barley grown on the settlement, which Edward Deverell said must satisfy his guests for some time, till his vines produced him grapes fit to make wine.
In the mean time Jenny and Ruth, with Baldabella and her child, had been properly cared for by the maid-servants of the establishment, who were in exuberant spirits at the novelty of visitors, and especially such wonderful and amusing visitors, who could tell them such strange tales of their travels; and even Baldabella in time got over her shyness, under the pressing hospitality of the reception; and little Nakinna was in ecstasies at the novelties she beheld and the dainties which she now first tasted. Wilkins moped in a corner in deep distress till his friend Hugh came to him, who insisted on his shaving and dressing himself neatly, and who then accompanied him to the dairy, where Susan, already acquainted with his story by Emma, was sitting weeping, but quite ready to receive and pardon the repentant man; and the mirth and festivity of the servants' hall were complete when the reunited pair joined the party.
It was late before the wanderers had recounted their adventures; and they all fully enjoyed the luxury of beds, after being so long accustomed to the open air, though the boys declared sleeping in an enclosed room was rather confining. Next morning, after a breakfast of coffee and cream, with all the other good things of the farm, they set out to see the hamlet, which was to become in time the town of Deverell. This hamlet stood about a quarter of a mile from the Grange, and consisted of a long row of wooden huts, thatched with bark, and painted green; each stood apart in a pretty garden, and each had behind it about an acre of land fenced round, where a cow, and sometimes a sheep or two, were grazing; every thing looked clean, orderly, and prosperous.
From the cottages to the river it was not more than three or four hundred yards, and before them was a green, in the midst of which was an enclosure that contained a neat stone-built church, with its low tower and bell to summon the congregation to church.
Mr. Mayburn was moved even to tears at the sight of this temple of God in the remote wilds; he seized the hand of Deverell, and said, "May Heaven bless you, my son! tell me whom you expect to fulfil the duties of this holy place."
"We have but just completed the most difficult and important work we have yet undertaken," answered Deverell. "The stone has been brought from our own quarry; but the labor of cutting and building was great and tedious. Our people are, however, pious and industrious, and they gladly worked extra hours to raise the place of worship they pined for. I have ever proposed to wait for you to be our priest, my good father; and month after month I have expected letters from you. For some of the graceless crew of theGolden Fairy, who escaped in the boats, reached Adelaide; and when they reported the vessel to be destroyed by fire, they asserted that you and your family had been taken up by an Indiaman. My plan was, as soon as I had heard from you where you were settled, to write to beseech you to join me. It is only during the last month that, afflicted and disappointed by your long silence, I have reluctantly turned my thoughts to the necessity of searching for another minister; and I was on the eve of setting out on a long journey to consult our worthy bishop, when the raid of the bush-rangers called me away to recover my property. Now Heaven has sent you to us, may I not, then, venture to hope that you are ours for life?"
"For life, Edward Deverell," answered Mr. Mayburn. "I am content and happy to remain with you; and I feel sure my children are determined to do the same. Teach them to be useful and happy as you are; and allow us to form part of your new colony."
"Huzza!" cried Hugh; "but you must grant us allotments to build cottages on, Governor Deverell."
"You shall hear all my plans," answered Deverell. "In the first place, you must all be our guests till dwellings are provided; the Grange is large enough for a city hotel. We will begin by building a handsome manse for our worthy pastor, with a large and convenient museum, which everybody must try to furnish with wonderful birds and eggs, and all the natural curiosities of Australia. I can spare volumes of my own to fit up the library, till we can procure all that are needed from Sydney."
"Delightful!" said Margaret. "I long to see you begin."
"Then we must have a house and workshop for our friend Jack," continued Deverell; "and constitute him head carpenter of Deverell. On your recommendation, I will venture to employ Wilkins as a stock-keeper; he shall be placed at the dairy-house, which the prudent Susan shall manage; and they shall have a good allotment, with cows and pigs of their own, to encourage them to prudence and industry. As for your female followers, Nurse Wilson, Ruth, and the native woman and child, they must remain with us, at least till the parsonage-house is completed, and Mr. Mayburn wishes to found his household."
"I propose, Edward," said Margaret, "that, if you do not object, I should teach some of the little girls of the hamlet—I see you have a number who are peeping at us from the cottages; then Nakinna will learn with them, and soon be a little English girl in all but complexion."
"That is just what I expected from you, Margaret," answered Deverell; "and Emma will be delighted to have such an associate. On this pretty spot, my brother Charles proposes to build a good house for himself, that he may be near his patients, who, I am happy to say, are few. He intends, when his house is ready, to go down to Sydney, and bring thence a wife to preside over it. He has fixed on a very charming young orphan girl, who, with her two young sisters that will accompany her, will form a most agreeable addition to our society."
"That is quite right," said Mr. Mayburn. "I rejoice to hear of his intention. And you, my dear Edward—would it not be also desirable that you should bring some lady suitable to you to this pleasant abode? If you have really resolved to pass your days here, it is your duty to marry."
"Do you think so, my very dear friend?" answered Deverell. "Then I leave the affair in your hands; you must kindly select a bride for me."
"I, my dear Edward!" exclaimed Mr. Mayburn. "I that have ever lived so much out of the world, and that am now a perfect solitary. I am actually acquainted with no young ladies in the world but your sister and my own child."
"Perhaps, papa," said Gerald archly, "Edward would be satisfied to take Margaret."
"How exceedingly absurd you can be, my dear boy," said Mr. Mayburn; then, after a few minutes' consideration, he added: "The thought never occurred to me before; it is not an absurd idea. I really do not see why such a pleasant arrangement might not be."
Margaret fled from the delicate discussion, and Edward Deverell then assured Mr. Mayburn, that not only he should be satisfied to take Margaret, but that he had never thought of any other person; as everybody but Mr. Mayburn understood long ago.
Then Margaret had to be asked if she would consent to be the mistress of that comfortable and happy household, to which she agreed, providing Mrs. Deverell and Emma would still continue to share the pleasures and duties of her home. And Edward told her all his plans for extending the population of his colony, and regulating it according to the laws of England and the commands of God. The great hall was, when needed, a hall of justice, and his people knew they were amenable to the law as much as if they lived in England.
"You should see how grave I look when I am seated on my throne of office, Margaret," said Deverell: "I must have Mr. Mayburn and Arthur on the bench in future, to give more dignity to my court. And now I must show you a domain which will be especially your own—my gardens, orchards and vineyards."
No labor or expense had been spared to enrich the gardens with all the fairest products of Australia and England. Conservatories and hot-houses were not needed in this charming climate, where the most delicate flowers and choicest fruits reached perfection in the open air. The rich blossoms of the apple, peach, apricot, and nectarine were now glowing on every side, and the trees, though so young, gave promise of abundant fruit; and the fragrance of the strawberry beds proclaimed the fruit to be ripe. Margaret was delighted with all she saw, and astonished at the thought of the labor and perseverance that must have been used.
A long avenue was shaded with the broad and luxuriant leaves of the vine, on which small bunches of grapes were already formed, a young crop, but giving promise of the rich vintage future years would bring.
"When my vines have reached maturity," said Deverell, "I shall require all the heads and the hands I can command, in order to make good wine from my own vineyard, of which, if God spare me, I have no fear. And I hope, Margaret, you are pleased with the delicate and fragrant blossoms of my orange-trees. They are yet but low shrubs; but I trust we shall live to see them tall and productive trees."
But it required many pleasant days, and many rambles about the domain, to see all that had been done, and all that it was proposed to do. Mr. Mayburn's new dwelling was planned and immediately commenced, orchards and gardens were marked out, and a list of fruit-trees and seeds made out. Jack was in his element, superintending the cutting down of timber trees, and then manufacturing them into tables and chairs, and other useful furniture, to his heart's content.