The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 13

"I don't like the expedition," said Smith, pettishly, as he saw Fred and myself examining our powder-flasks and counting bullets.

"Then stay here and await our return," cried Fred, bluntly, looking up from his work.

Smith moved uneasily, muttered something in an under tone, felt the edge of his constant companion, a heavy axe, and then replied,--

"If you two harum-scarum youngsters are determined to get your throats cut, I don't see but that I shall have to be near at hand. But I tell you it is bad business, and none but crazy men would think of penetrating that dark forest in search of bushrangers."

"You wouldn't let that old man go alone, would you?" we asked.

"No; but then--"

He stopped a moment, as though to collect his thoughts, and pettishly exclaimed,--

"D---- it, you are going in search of the worst gang on the island.

Black Darnley is equal to all three of us in a personal encounter."

"But suppose we kept him at bay, and tried the effect of rifle shot?" I asked, holding up a short, heavy, instrument, carrying about twenty-five to a pound.

"The rifle looks like a true one, and I know that you boys can shoot, but suppose that you didn't get the chance?"

"Then we must trust to luck," answered Fred, coolly.

"I'm no great hand at bush-fighting," replied Smith; "but we have joined our fortunes for a trip to the mines, and I'm not the man to desert you at the time of need."

"Then you'll go?" we asked.

"Yes; if I get killed it matters not much."

In half an hour we were ready; each man carried a small knapsack, containing a few cakes of bread and the remains of the kangaroo, while Smith provided himself with a small bottle, the contents of which he kept a profound secret.

Not knowing whether we should ever be fortunate enough to return and claim the few articles of property that belonged to us, Fred and myself paused for a moment to bid them farewell.

Standing in the doorway of the stockman's hut, we saw the form of his injured daughter watching us on our tramp. She remained motionless'

until we turned to continue our march, and then she waved a blood-red handkerchief as though bidding us remember her injuries and avenge them.

Right before us, at a distance of five miles, was a dark line of trees, extending for many leagues along the horizon. In the depths of that forest few white men had ever penetrated. Once, a dozen of the police of Melbourne attempted to break up a gang of bushrangers who sheltered themselves upon the edge of this wild region. On the alarm being given, the villains discharged a volley at the officers and then fled. Five of the police were killed or wounded, but the remainder, nothing daunted, started in pursuit. They got separated amidst the thickets, and but one man returned alive to Melbourne. The remainder either got lost and starved to death, or else were killed by the bushrangers. After that, government was content to offer large rewards for the apprehension of the escaped convicts, but the police did not care to venture a second time into their dread abode.

I have mentioned these circ.u.mstances to show that the undertaking upon which we had embarked was one of no ordinary kind; that there was much peril and little honor to be gained in an encounter with half a dozen desperate men, who knew that their lives depended upon the stout resistance which they should offer, and of course would fight to the death.

If we did look sharply to the loading of our rifles, and felt the long bowie knives that we carried at our waist to find whether the blades worked easily in their sheaths, it was because we expected to use them, and knew that our only hope to return alive was by a prompt employment of the deadly weapons when an encounter took place.

It was near nine o'clock when we halted upon the outskirts of the dark forest. Hardly a ray of the hot sun penetrated the woods; all was gloomy and silent. Occasionally a parrot upon the borders of the forest uttered a shrill scream, and then spreading its gaudy wings sought shelter upon the bough of a tall tree, from whence it could watch our movements without danger.

The hound, which we had taken with us, ran with his nose close to the ground, sometimes moving within a few feet of the trees, and then starting off, scouring the prairie in his search, but always returning, until he suddenly stopped before what seemed a dense thicket. During all the time that he had been upon the scent not a cry had escaped him; indeed, he seemed to realize that silence was our only safety, and acted accordingly.

"The dog has found the trail of the bushrangers," the convict said, suddenly halting, and waiting for the rest of us to join him.

"The dog is keen on the scent, and acts as though trained to track runaways," cried Smith, resting his heavy axe upon the ground, and rubbing his shoulder where the skin was nearly worn off by friction.

The animal bounded towards us, wagged his tail, looked into our faces with his knowing eyes, and then trotted slowly back to the thicket before which he had halted in the first place.

"Don't let us stand here all day under this broiling sun," cried Fred, impatiently. "If we are to search for bushrangers, let's begin and get through with the job as soon as possible."

"There is no haste," cried the aged convict, in a tone of reproach. "Our success depends upon the degree of caution that we employ. Our object is to surprise the party we are in pursuit of, and not let them surprise us."

"O, I understand," replied Fred, indifferently; "something of the Indian style of warfare, hey? Well, we are somewhat used to that, and can follow a trail as well as any amateur hunters in the country."

The convict made no reply, but examined the priming of his gun, tightened the sash which he wore around his waist, and then, briefly surveying the little party, as though calculating on the relative strength of each man, he moved forward.

We gained the thicket, where the dog was awaiting us. No entrance through the dense undergrowth met our view; and had we not known that the dog came from a breed of hounds that never deceive, we should have deemed it impossible for human beings to have entered the forest in that direction.

For some time we examined the premises to find an opening; but none appearing, Smith swung his axe over his head and let its sharp edge strike the bushes, intending to cut a pa.s.sage. As if by magic the boughs gave way, and we discovered an opening which bore the appearance of having been frequently used.

A brief examination convinced us of the fact. The branches of young trees and the tops of the bushes were so interlaced that no one would have suspected that an entrance into the forest was possible in that quarter. It proved to us that we were near the encampment of bushrangers, but whether the party we were in pursuit of, was more than we could tell.

We motioned to the hound to lead the way, and the n.o.ble animal, after a brief examination of the ground, trotted slowly forward.

Our steps were taken with caution, for we wished to come upon the outlaws unexpectedly.

For ten minutes we continued our silent march, the dog leading the way with unwavering instinct, avoiding the thickets and dense growth of trees,--hardly noticing the small wild animals of the hare species that ran before his very nose,--until he suddenly stopped and looked into our faces, as much as to say, "Now, pray be cautious."

"Hist!" cried the convict, who led the way, holding up his finger. "I smell smoke."

"And I can see it," replied Fred, pointing to an opening in the trees nearly a quarter of a mile distant.

We all strained our eyes in the direction that Fred indicated, and I no longer doubted that we were in the vicinity of an encampment, although neither Smith nor the convict was ready to testify that they saw signs of fire.

"I call my eyes as clear and keen as most any one's," Smith said; "but if you can see smoke it's more than I can do."

"My eyes are not so good as they were twenty years back, and I trust more to the scent than the sight. Now I can smell smoke, but see none,"

the aged convict said, inhaling his breath as though trying to distinguish from what direction it came.

"You Englishmen have never lived in one of our American forests, or you would be better acquainted with the appearance of smoke when it came from a fire that has long been neglected and is about dying out. I will wager a pound of good rifle powder that in yonder clearing we shall find a camp of bushrangers, and that the smoke which we see comes from the fire they made when they returned from their nocturnal excursion last night."

"You may be right," the convict said, in a musing tone. "If we are," he continued, "in close proximity to those we seek, what do you advise?"

"I would advise a seperation of forces--let Jack and myself approach the encampment in one direction, while you and Smith can steal towards it from another. There are many reasons why we should act in this manner, and you do not need my advice to be convinced of its force."

"May the G.o.d of battles aid us," muttered the convict, _sotto voce_, as though fearful we should catch his words and fears. "I see," he continued, "the force of your reasoning. When you are ready for the attack, discharge your rifles, and mind and not waste a single shot."

The convict stalked on as he ceased speaking, following the lead of the dog. We were about to start in a different direction, but still verging towards the smoke, when we were detained by a few words from Smith.

"Remember, boys," he hurriedly whispered, "that if any thing occurs, you are to take charge of my property and remit the sale of it to my mother.

She is somewhere, in London, I believe. Take care of yourselves, and remember that it was not I that proposed this confounded excursion."

He squeezed our hands as he spoke, and the next minute we lost sight of his burly form as he followed in the wake of the convict.