CHAPTER XVIII.

"THERE'S MANY A SLIP."

The journey, which, owing to the many accidents and dangers that had happened to them, had occupied the boys ten days in the going, was accomplished in little more than half that time on the return. They met with none of the difficulties that they had had to encounter on their way to the Whanga, the fates at last seeming propitious. The large tract of country that had been burnt by the great fire in which they had so nearly perished was green again with the young grass that had sprouted everywhere after the rain; and travelling across it was rendered much easier in many places from the fact that the stretches of dense scrub, which had so hindered them when they had crossed the country before, were all totally consumed, leaving the country open.

The heavy rains that had fallen since the fire had filled the creeks again, so that they lost no time in the search for water, in which they had wasted so many hours on the outward journey.

The only causes of delay were the stoppages necessary for the providing of provisions (for all the stores they had brought with them were now completely at an end), and these were not of frequent occurrence, as Murri generally succeeded in accomplishing his hunt either before starting in the morning or during the mid-day halt. There was no scarcity of birds, and the boys several times provided a meal by their guns, although they were chary of firing more than was necessary for fear of attracting the notice of any wandering _myalls_.

The party had seen nothing of their old antagonists when they passed through the gully where they had been attacked by Prince Tom and his friends, and Murri said that in all likelihood the whole tribe had wandered by that time to a very great distance from there. In all the time since they had left the Whanga they had hardly seen a native. Once they had come upon a woman and a child, who showed them where there was a native well close by, and another time they had seen the smoke of native fires at some little distance, but with these exceptions they had seen nothing of the _myalls_.

For the last few days the boys had talked incessantly of Wandaroo; what would happen when they were back again; who would be the person to see them first; and of all the little things that make a home-coming so delightful to look forward to, and so happy in the fulfilment. Both Alec and George were in wild spirits; the thought of their success and what it meant to all of them; the delight and relief of their mother; and the astonishment of the incredulous old Scotsman, Macleod, which they foresaw and spoke of, were sufficient cause for their happiness, and accounted for their excitement. Murri did not seem to enter into their feelings; he was in no hurry to return, he was well enough off and happy where he was; and he did not feel the calls of family affection so strongly as the white man, though it must not be thought that he was entirely without them.

The evening of the sixth day since they had left the Whanga with their precious burdens had arrived, and the little party had reached the long creek which they believed formed the north-eastern boundary of their great run. There was still an hour or so of daylight before them, but they knew they could not reach the head station before dark, as their horses, although in fairly good condition considering the heavy work they had done in the last week, were not very fresh. But the fact that night would have fallen before they could get in did not trouble them in any way; they knew their road about the run as well by night as by day, and if they did not know it the horses did, which was much the same thing. Besides, there was a moon only a few days from full, which, an hour after sunset, would make the night almost as bright as day.

Alec and George were riding a little way ahead, and Murri, whose turn it was to lead the pack-horses, was a few yards in the rear. They were scrambling down the rather rotten side of the creek talking and laughing gaily, for in their present state of excitement and high spirits a very little in the way of a joke was enough to make them laugh. At that moment they were both perfectly happy; success had crowned their endeavours, and after many toils and trials and dangers they were safely close at home once more.

"Here we are on our own land again at last; and we can call it our own now with truth. I say, Alec, doesn't the run look beautiful? I didn't half appreciate it before. What an age it seems since we went away."

"We shall be home in a couple of hours, I should think. I feel as though we ought to have a band to meet us playing, 'See the Conquering Hero comes,' for we have done even more than we hoped to do when we set out. I wonder what they'll say when we tell them."

"Oh, mother won't say anything; she'll just sit down; and be quite overcome for a minute, and then will get up, looking very happy, saying, 'Boys, you must be hungry.' Margaret will go rather red from excitement, and will run round and hug us both, forgetting that she ought to be sedate."

"What will Yesslett do?"

"That is more than mortal man can tell, for he will be leaping and yelling about the place like a madman when we tell him, and there is no knowing what he'll do in that condition. Macleod won't believe us a bit when we say we have six or seven thousand pounds worth of pure gold. Cautious, unbelieving old Scottie."

"No, but he will when we bang the gold plump down on the table before him."

They had all crossed the creek by this time, and had climbed the steep bank on the other side of it. There was rather a thick clump of trees through which they would have to pass, and they entered it still talking and laughing. The setting sun threw long shadows of the trees towards them.

"Yes," continued George, "the sound and sight of that will astonish him above a bit. What a load it is off one's mind to have got all that money safely home at last."

"There's many a slip 'twixt cup and lip," sang Alec, throwing his head back slightly in that little way of his.

"Don't be so ridiculous. Our work is at an end, we have got the gold home. There can't be a slip this time, because the cup is already _at_ the lip."

Poor lad, his words were doomed to be proved false, for, as he uttered the very words, an armed horseman leaped out from the shelter of the trees by the side of them and shouted--

"Bail up!"

This is the Australian equivalent to the English highwayman's "stand and deliver." It has been adopted by bushrangers all over the colonies, and by it they mean to say that unless the threatened person stops and instantly throws up his arms above his head, to prevent his getting at his pistol, they will fire upon him. But this time the man had waited a little too long before shouting; the boys were close upon him, and Alec, who seemed to grasp the situation the moment the man sprang out from the trees, had clapped spurs to his horse and rushed at him. Amber was not accustomed to the use of the spur, and leaped like a stag when he felt it.

Before the ruffian had time to take a steady aim, Alec was down on him like a whirlwind, and charging full at him. The shock of the contact with Amber's weight and great strength fairly knocked the bushranger out of the saddle. The man, a heavy-browed, black-bearded fellow, gave a great shout as he fell, evidently to call his comrades, for an answering call was heard from the bank of the gully, in the direction of the Yarrun station. Alec knew that their only chance of escape lay in instant flight, so that he did not stop to touch the man, who lay like a sack on the ground, but turning in his saddle as he passed on, he fired a shot at the horse which quite disabled it. As George caught him up, Alec said--

"We are in for it now. That fellow is Jim Kearney, I feel sure, the forger and murderer. I've seen his portrait at the police station at Bateman. We must ride like mad to escape them."

"Why, Kearney is Starlight's right-hand man."

"Yes, and it is Starlight and his band who are looking out for us."

"We ought to have Margaret here."

"How can you joke, Geordie, when in a minute we may have eight or ten of the most bloodthirsty villains in Australia after us."

"Can't help it, I am really as serious as you are, Heaven knows."

They were all close together now, for Murri had overtaken them, and were galloping along at a break-neck rate. As George spoke they could hear behind them shouts, and the sound of many horses galloping at full speed. The bushrangers had heard the cry Kearney had given as he fell, and the sound of the shot Alec had fired at his horse. The pursuit had begun. Above the noise their horses made as they tore over the ground the boys could hear the faint shouts of the men in pursuit.

"Now then, bail up." "If you don't stop we'll shoot every one of you." "You can't get away." And such like cheering sentences, all uttered in the angriest and savagest of tones, and interlarded with oaths and curses. The men were still some way behind them, but the evening was so calm that they could overhear nearly all that was shouted at them.

"Look here, Geordie," said Alec, anxiously, after they had been riding in this way for some time, "do you think that we had better bail up? I don't believe our horses can hold out at this pace, and theirs are probably fresher."

"Bail up? Not we. Let them catch us if they can; we'll lead 'em a pretty dance first. Ride as lightly as you can. We know the country and they don't, and that is in our favour."

"All right, I'm game if you are. I don't think we need ask Murri; he'd ride anywhere if you led him, Geordie."

"I wish there were a few more of us, we'd stand and meet them, but as it is we shouldn't have a show."

The chase was a long and stern one; neither party would give in, and a rigorous silence had fallen on the boys, who, with determined faces, rode steadily on. Occasionally, without slackening speed, they would look over their shoulders to see if their pursuers were nearing them, and each time that they did so they thought that they were a little closer. The sun had set and the short twilight was fading into night, and still the lads rode resolutely on. The mad gallop at which they had all started had slackened, as the breath of the labouring horses became short, yet, without sign of giving in, they raced along, the gradually increasing sound of the horses behind them, which slowly but surely crept upon them, goading them to their utmost exertions. Wandaroo was still some miles away when, not more than a couple of pistol shots behind them, they heard a pleasant voice cry out--

"It is no use, you know. You may just as well give in now as ten minutes later. I'm Starlight, and I'll be hanged if I let you escape me. _I'm going to have that gold._ You may have heard that when I say a thing I mean it."

The pleasantness of the voice did not induce the boys to draw rein, it rather urged them all the more to evade him, if still there might be a chance; for it confirmed what the man said, and what they had believed before--that it was Starlight who was in pursuit. They had often heard of the silver voice of this villain, who could sing like an angel whilst he was perpetrating the most fiendish of acts. It was said that he always spoke pleasantest when angriest, and that once when he had ordered the wooden buildings of a station to be set fire to, which the owners had barricaded and defended against him, one man who escaped alive from the fire had said that his voice, as he gave the diabolical command, was that of a seraph. This man, this Starlight, as he called himself, on whose head a price was set by the Government, and who was guilty of every crime and cruelty that a man absolutely without heart or conscience could cram into a lifetime, was yet of so winning a presence and manner and of so beautiful a face and voice, that twice, when fairly trapped, he had befooled his captors into believing him to be some one else and to let him go.

"Do you hear what he says, Alec? The gold. How does he know of the gold?"

"He shall never have it. Not an ounce of it!" said Alec, in a resolute voice that was as steady as his determination.

Again Starlight shouted to them, his pure voice ringing quite clearly, through the hushed evening air.

"Don't be fools, you boys. I know you. If you will stop I won't hurt a hair of your heads, but I'll shoot you, as sure as my name is Starlight, if you don't pull up."

"The mean hound," said Alec, angrily; "not hurt a hair of our heads. Why he'd cut our throats, smiling all the time, if he had sworn on the Bible not to do so."

"Look here, Alec, they are certainly gaining on us. We are overweighted with this gold. We must get rid of it."

"That is just what I mean to do. Put on a spurt when we get into that belt of gums, that we can gain a minute or so."

Telling Murri of their intention, as they entered the narrow band of gum trees they spurred their horses, and Alec, who was leading him then, whipped up the pack-horse, and, regardless of their limbs, they dashed between the smooth trunks, and, emerging into the brilliant moonlight on the other side, tore down the little incline to the patch of marshy ground that lay at the bottom.

"To that little pool of water," said Alec, pointing across the low ground, which the recent rains had again converted to a swamp; and without decreasing their speed they turned towards it. Pulling up by the side of the little shining pool for one brief moment, Alec said--

"Fling every one of the bags of gold into it. Make haste!"

He threw his own in, with a heavy splash, as he spoke, and leaning across the pack-horse he tore the little sacks from its saddle and flung them in the water. Murri and George followed suit.

"Ride through the pool," Geordie whispered hoarsely, "or they will see it rippling, and guess what we have done."