Bunyip Land Part 56

"But--but suppose, Jack Penny," I said, "they--they do him some injury for what has pa.s.sed."

"'Tain't likely," drawled Jack. "They've kept him all this time, why should they want to--well, kill him--that's what you're afraid of now?"

"Yes," I said sadly.

"Gammon! 'tain't likely. If you'd got an old kangaroo in a big cage, and the young kangaroo came and tried to get him away you wouldn't go and kill the old kangaroo for it?"

"No, no," I said.

"Of course not. I didn't mean to call your father an old kangaroo, Joe Carstairs. I only meant it to be an instance like. I say, do kick that fellow for snoring so."

"It is of no use to kick him, poor fellow, and, besides, he's tired.

He's a good fellow, Jack."

"Yes, I suppose he is," said Jack Penny; "but he's awfully black."

"Well, he can't help that."

"And he s.h.i.+nes so!" continued Jack in tones of disgust. "I never saw a black fellow with such a s.h.i.+ny skin. I say, though, didn't you feel in a stew, Joe Carstairs, when you thought it was a black fellow lugging you off?"

"I did," I said; "and when afterwards--hist! is that anything?"

We gazed through the bushes at the darkness outside, and listened intently, but there was no sound save Jimmy's heavy breathing, and I went on:

"When afterwards I found it was the black I turned queer and giddy.

Perhaps it was the effect of the blow I got, but I certainly felt as if I should faint. I didn't know I was so girlish."

Jack Penny did not speak for a few minutes, and I sat thinking bitterly of my weakness as I stroked Gyp's head, the faithful beast having curled up between us and laid his head upon my lap. I seemed to have been so cowardly, and, weary and dejected as I was, I wished that I had grown to be a man, with a man's strength and indifference to danger.

"Oh, I don't know," said Jack Penny suddenly.

"Don't know what?" I said sharply, as he startled me out of my thinking fit.

"Oh! about being girlish and--and--and, well, cowardly, I suppose you mean."

"Yes, cowardly," I said bitterly. "I thought I should be so brave, and that when I had found where my father was I should fight and bring him away from among the savages."

"Ah! yes," said Jack Penny dryly, "that's your sort! That's like what you read in books and papers about boys of fifteen, and sixteen, and seventeen. They're wonderful chaps, who take young women in their arms and then jump on horseback with 'em and gallop off at full speed. Some of 'em have steel coats like lobsters on, and heavy helmets, and that makes it all the easier. I've read about some of them chaps who wielded their swords--they never swing 'em about and chop and stab with 'em, but wield 'em, and they kill three or four men every day and think nothing of it. I used to swallow all that stuff, but I'm not such a guffin now."

There was a pause here, while Jack Penny seemed to be thinking.

"Why, some of these chaps swim across rivers with a man under their arm, and if they're on horseback they sing out a battle-cry and charge into a whole army, and everybody's afraid of 'em. I say, ain't it jolly nonsense Joe Carstairs?"

"I suppose it is," I said sadly, for I had believed in some of these heroes too.

"I don't believe the boy ever lived who didn't feel in an awful stew when he was in danger. Why, men do at first before they get used to it.

There was a chap came to our place last year and did some shepherding for father for about six months. He'd been a soldier out in the Crimean war and got wounded twice in the arm and in the leg, big wounds too. He told me that when they got the order to advance, him and his mates, they were all of a tremble, and the officers looked as pale as could be, some of 'em; but every man tramped forward steady enough, and it wasn't till they began to see their mates drop that the want to fight began to come.

They felt savage, he says, then, and as soon as they were in the thick of it, there wasn't a single man felt afraid."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then he went on again:

"If men feel afraid sometimes I don't see why boys shouldn't; and as to those chaps who go about in books killing men by the dozen, and never feeling to mind it a bit, I think it's all gammon."

"Hist! Jack Penny, what's that?" I whispered.

There was a faint cras.h.i.+ng noise out in the forest just then, and I knew from the sound close by me that the black who was sharing our watch must have been lifting his spear.

I picked up my gun, and I knew that Jack had taken up his and thrown himself softly into a kneeling position, as we both strove to pierce the darkness and catch sight of what was perhaps a coming enemy.

As we watched, it seemed as if the foliage of the trees high up had suddenly come into view. There was a grey look in the sky, and for the moment I thought I could plainly make out the outline of the bushes on the opposite side of the gully.

Then I thought I was mistaken, and then again it seemed as if I could distinctly see the outline of a bush.

A minute later, and with our hearts beating loudly, we heard the rustling go on, and soon after we could see that the bushes were being moved.

"It is the doctor," I thought; but the idea was false, I knew, for if it had been he his way would have been down into the stream, which he would have crossed, while, whoever this was seemed to be undecided and to be gazing about intently as if in search of something.

When we first caught a glimpse of the moving figure it was fifty yards away. Then it came to within forty, went off again, and all the time the day was rapidly breaking. The tree tops were plainly to be seen, and here and there one of the great ma.s.ses of foliage stood out quite clearly.

Just then the black, who had crept close to my side, pointed out the figure on the opposite bank, now dimly-seen in the transparent dawn.

It was that of an Indian who had stopped exactly opposite the clump of bushes which acted as a screen to our place of refuge, and stooping down he was evidently trying to make out the mouth of the cave.

He saw it apparently, for he uttered a cry of satisfaction, and leaping from the place of observation he stepped rapidly down the slope.

"He has found us out," I whispered.

"But he mustn't come all the same," said Jack Penny, and as he spoke I saw that he was taking aim.

"Don't shoot," I cried, striking at his gun; but I was too late, for as I bent towards him he drew the trigger, there was a flash, a puff of smoke, a sharp report that echoed from the mouth of the cave, and then with a horrible dread upon me I sprang up and made for the entrance, followed by Jack and the blacks.

It took us but a minute to get down into the stream bed and then to climb up amongst the bushes to where we had seen the savage, and neither of us now gave a thought of there being danger from his companions.

What spirit moved Jack Penny I cannot tell. That which moved me was an eager desire to know whether a horrible suspicion was likely to be true, and to gain the knowledge I proceeded on first till I reached the spot where the man had fallen.

It was a desperate venture, for he might have struck at me, wounded merely, with war-club or spear; but I did not think of that: I wanted to solve the horrible doubt, and I had just caught sight of the fallen figure lying p.r.o.ne upon its face when Jimmy uttered a warning cry, and we all had to stoop down amongst the bushes, for it seemed as if the savage's companions were coming to his help.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

HOW THE DOCTOR FOUND A PATIENT READY TO HIS HAND.

We waited for some minutes crouched there among the bushes listening to the coming of those who forced their way through the trees, while moment by moment the morning light grew clearer, the small birds twittered, and the parrots screamed. We could see nothing, but it was evident that two if not three savages were slowly descending the slope of the ravine towards where we were hidden. The wounded man uttered a low groan that thrilled me and then sent a cold shudder through my veins, for I was almost touching him; and set aside the feeling of horror at having been, as it were, partner in inflicting his injury, there was the sensation that he might recover sufficiently to revenge himself upon us by a blow with his spear.

The sounds came nearer, and it was now so light that as we watched we could see the bushes moving, and it seemed to me that more of this horrible bloodshed must ensue. We were crouching close, but the wounded man was moaning, and his companions might at any moment hear him and then discovery must follow; while if, on the other hand, we did not resist, all hope of rescuing my poor father would be gone.

"We must fight," I said to myself, setting my teeth hard and bringing my gun to bear on the spot where I could see something moving. At the same time I tried to find where Jack Penny was hiding, but he was out of sight.