The Gold Hunter's Adventures Or, Life In Australia Volume 2 ( Of 2 ) - William H. Thomes (large screen ebook reader txt) 📗

Skulked Behind A Tree.

 

We Stole Carefully Forward And Saw That We Were Within Five Rods Of The

Bushrangers, Who Were Seated Around Half A Dozen Fires, Cooking Their

Mutton On Long Sticks, And Endeavoring To Obtain A Cessation Of

Hostilities From The Attacks Of Mosquitoes By Beating The Air Wildly

With Their Huge Black Fists When Not Engaged In Cutting Meat, Or

Throwing On Light Brush To Feed The Fires. The Men All Seemed Excited,

And We Listened To Their Conversation With Some Pleasure, Showing, As It

Did, How Mistaken They Were In Their Estimate Of The True Appearance Of

The Ghost.

 

"For Ten Years I've Knocked About These Woods, And Done Some Very Pretty

Tricks, But I Never Met With Such A Looking Devil As I've Seen

To-Night," I Heard An Old Grizzly Fellow (An Exact Representative Of A

Pirate) Say, As He Ripped Off About A Pound Of Flesh From The Carcass Of

A Lamb, Thrust It Upon A Stick And Held It Over The Coals, After Which

He Looked Around Upon His Brother Devils With An Air That Showed How

Much He Should Like To Kill Every One Present Merely For The Fun Of The

Thing.

 

"I Would Have Stopped And Spoken To The Darn Thing If Any One Had Kept

Me Company," A Young Fellow Said, Apparently Desirous Of Raising Himself

In The Estimation Of His Companions; But, If Such Was His Intention, It

Was A Failure, For The Old Pirate Turned On Him Like A Hungry Wolf With

Snapping Jaws.

 

"You Stop And Bandy Words With A Spirit?" Asked The Old Fellow, With A

Sneer. "Why, D----N It, You Was The First One To Run."

 

"Not As You Knows Of," Replied The Young Robber, Shaking His Head As

Though He Was Willing To Test The Matter.

 

"Do You Tell Me I Lie, You Impudent Son Of A Dutch Woman?" Asked Old

Grizzly, Lifting His Stick From The Fire And Striking The Youngster Full

Upon His Face With The Hot Meat, Which Caused Him To Start From The

Ground As Though About To Inflict Vengeance Upon The Old Pirate For The

Insult.

 

The Elder Bushranger Did Not Seem In The Least Disturbed. He Shook The

Mutton Clear Of His Stick As Though It Had Been Contaminated By Contact

With His Companion's Flesh, And Then Drew His Long, Sharp Knife, And

Began To Cut Off Another Portion From The Carcass By His Side.

 

For A Few Seconds The Insulted Youngster Seemed Uncertain What To Do.

Then I Saw His Right Hand Seek For His Knife, Draw It, And With A Wild

Cry He Threw Himself Upon The Old Man. The Other Bushrangers Merely

Glanced Towards The Parties, But Did Not Offer To Interfere. There Was

But A Slight Struggle, For The Attack Was So Sudden That The Grizzly

Fellow Did Not Take The Precaution Of Defending Himself, Trusting,

Probably, To His Age And Influence With The Gang To Exempt Him From A

Personal Combat.

 

I Heard A Low Groan, And Then The Attacking Party Arose And Returned To

His Former Place, While The Head Of The Old Robber Fell Forward And

Touched The Fire, And There It Remained For A Few Minutes, Until The

Stench Of Burning Hair Became So Great That Some One Shouted Out To

Remove The Body, And Not Let It Lay There And Spoil Their Appetites.

 

One Man, More Humane Than The Rest, Lifted The Dead Pirate Up And

Carried Him A Short Distance, And Then Laid Him Carefully Under A Tree.

The Whole Transaction, Including The Death, Did Not Take Ten Minutes,

And A Number Of The Gang Did Not Even Stop From Picking Bones During Its

Occurrence.

 

"You Settled Him, Billy?" Cried A Fellow At A Distant Camp Fire,

Slightly Raising His Voice.

 

"I Should Think That I Did," Answered The Young Ruffian, Wiping His

Knife On His Shirt Sleeve, And Then Finishing His Supper, With An

Evident Attempt To Appear Unconcerned, Although I Could See That He Was

All Of A Tremble, And That He Glared Around The Clear Space As Though He

Feared To Encounter A Disagreeable Sight Every Moment.

 

"Let This Be A Lesson To All Of Us," Cried A Deep, Bass Voice, Which I

Heard For The First Time. "How Often Have I Told You That I Desired

Harmony In The Gang, And That If A Man Gave The Lie He Was Responsible

For It With His Life. Why Can't You Live Like Gentlemen, And Not Like A

Set Of D----D Blackguards. Because You Are Robbers And Cutthroats Is No

Reason Why You Should Murder Each Other. The World Is Large Enough And

Contains Enough Of Our Enemies Without Looking For Them In The Gang."

 

There Was Not A Word Of Response To These Remarks, But I Noticed That

Many Of The Gang Hung Their Heads As Though They Did Not Wish To Meet

The Eyes Of The Speaker, Who Seemed To Be A Person In Authority.

 

"That Must Be Sam Tyrell, Who Is Called The Gentlemanly Bushranger Of

Australia," Whispered Mr. Brown, Who Was Anxious To Get Sight Of A Man

Who Had Performed Some Very Daring Exploits, And Some Excessive Acts Of

Cruelty, While Commanding A Gang Of Ruffians On The Road Between

Ballarat And Melbourne.

 

"Hush," I Whispered, "Or You Will Betray Your Hiding-Place;" For Mr.

Brown, In His Eagerness, Moved The Bushes In A Manner That Attracted

Attention.

 

I Had Heard Of Sam, Through His Many Exploits, And Was Anxious To Get

Sight Of Him, So That In Case We Ever Met I Should Recognize His Face.

 

It Is Related Of Him, By The Old Settlers Of Australia, That He Once

Returned To Melbourne, Dressed Himself In Black With Scrupulous

Neatness, And Then Boldly Presented Himself At The Door Of The

Lieutenant-Governor's Palace, Passed In By Means Of A Ticket Which He

Had Taken From A Man Whom He Met On The Highway, Danced With The First

Ladies Of The City, Was Introduced To The Governor's Wife, And Would

Have Danced With Her Had Etiquette Permitted It. In Fact, Tyrell Created

Considerable Of A Sensation, And Ate His Host's Ices, And Drank His

Wine, With A Degree Of Nonchalance That Charmed The Ladies And Disgusted

The Gentlemen.

 

Had Sam Conducted Himself With A Certain Degree Of Circumspection No

Suspicions Would Have Been Excited By His Conduct; But The Devil

Prompted Him To Make Love To A Pretty Woman Who Was Present In Company

With Her Husband, The Latter An Old Man, Ugly As Sin, And Jealous As

Othello.

 

Sam Saw The Lady Admired His Vigorous-Looking Form, And He Addressed Her

A Few Remarks Of Flattery, Without Waiting For The Formalities Of An

Introduction. Her Husband Fired Up At The Sight, And Growled Forth His

Displeasure In No Measured Terms.

 

Sam Paid No More Attention To His Looks And Hard Words Than If He Had

Been A Child. The Contempt, So Quietly Conveyed, Only Enraged The Old

Gentleman The More, And The Matter Began To Be Talked About. First One

And Then Another Inquired Who The Good-Looking Gentleman Dressed In

Black Was, But No One Could Answer The Question. The Governor Was

Appealed To, But He Was As Ignorant As His Guests. At Length An

Aide-De-Camp Was Intrusted With The Delicate Duty Of Requesting The

Stranger To Disclose His Address.

 

The Officer Touched Tyrell On The Shoulder, While He Was Standing By The

Fascinating Little Mrs. P----, And Desired A Word With Him In Private.

Sam Bowed Low To The Object Of His Affections, And Followed The Officer

To An Ante-Chamber. The Guests, Who Were Hovering Around The Door,

Waited Impatiently For The Officer To Make His Reappearance And Report.

 

Ten Minutes Passed Away, And Still The Officer Was Invisible. Half An

Hour Glided By, And Then The Crowd Ventured To Knock, But There Was No

Answer. The Door Was Tried, And Found To Be Locked.

 

His Excellency Was Consulted, And He Sent For An Armorer Of The Regiment

Stationed In Melbourne, A Man Very Skilful In Picking And Repairing

Locks. The Soldier Exerted His Skill, But In Vain; The Door Refused To

Open, And Then, Grown Desperate, The Governor Ordered An Axe Brought,

And A Few Vigorous Blows Drove The Door From Its Hinges, And A Crowd

Rushed In.

 

There Was No Light In The Apartment, And Mr. P----, The Jealous Husband,

Was So Eager That He Stumbled Over Some Object Lying On The Floor, And

Pitched Headlong Against The Wall, Bruising His Bald Head, And Causing

Him To Curse, With All An Englishman's Spleen, At His Mishap, While He

Did Not Forget To Allude To His Wife In His Prayers As The Cause Of His

Misfortune.

 

A Light Was Brought As Speedily As Possible, And, To The Consternation

Of Those Present, The Aide-De-Camp Was Found Extended Upon The Floor,

His Arms Tied Behind His Back, His Mouth Gagged With A Pocket

Handkerchief, And On His Breast Was Pinned A Piece Of Paper Addressed To

The Governor.

 

It Was But The Work Of A Moment To Relieve The Officer From His

Unpleasant Position, And The Instant He Could Speak He Rushed For The

Window, Which Was Observed To Be Open, And Hailed The Sentry, Who Was

Pacing Back And Forth A Short Distance Beneath.

 

The Guard Answered Promptly, But Declared That No One Had Passed Him

That Evening, And That If A Man Had Attempted To Escape By The Window He

Should Have Seen Him.

 

By This Time His Excellency Had Read The Note, And Was Raving For The

Captain Of The Police Force, And Vowing That It Was Dangerous To Live In

His Own Palace, The Bushrangers Had Become So Audacious.

 

The Word Bushranger Struck Terror Into The Hearts Of All Present, And

Even The Jealous Husband Modulated His Wrath, And Rubbed His Head With

Some Degree Of Contentment.

 

There Was Considerable Curiosity To Learn The Contents Of The Note, But

Etiquette Required That The Governor Should Not Be Asked Regarding It,

Although Every Gentleman Present Was Bursting To Know, And All The

Ladies Were Unanimously Of The Opinion That The Adventure Was Romantic,

And Actually Looked Upon Mrs. P----, Who Was Half Frightened To Death,

With Some Degree Of Envy, Because She Was A Prominent Actor In The

Scene.

 

At Length His Excellency Condescended To Enlighted His Audience, And

Read The Paper Which He Held In His Hand, Although He Boiled With Rage

As He Did So. The Note Was As Follows:--

 

    "Most Worthy Governor.--For The Very Kind Manner In Which You Have

    Entertained Me This Evening, Please Accept My Thanks. I Have Drank

    Your Wine, Eaten Your Ices, And Enjoyed Your Refreshments As Well

    As Any Gentleman Present, And Had I Remained Long Enough I Would

    Have Added To My Exploits By Kissing Your Lady Friends, Including

    Your Wife. As I Did Not, Please Perform The Ceremony For Me. The

    Next Time That I Visit You I Hope You Will Have A Quantity Of Ice

    To Cool The Wine, As I Am Accustomed To Such Luxuries, And

    Champagne Tastes Insipid Without It. I Think That Your Excellency

    Should Change Your Wine Merchant, For Some Of The Liquor That I

    Tasted To-Night Never Saw France, And I Hope Never Will, For That

    Polite Nation Would Feel Eternally Disgraced At The Thought Of

    Concocting Such Beverages. Hoping That I Shall, At No Distant Day,

    Meet Your Excellency In The Bush, Where I Can Return A Few Of The

    Civilities Which I Have Received This Evening, And, I Trust,

    Relieve You Of A Portion Of Your Worldly Cares, In The Shape Of

    Wealth, Allow Me To Humbly Subscribe Myself, Your Friend And

    Well-Wisher,

 

    "Sam Tyrell, _Bushranger_."

 

"The Impudent Scoundrel!" Was The General Exclamation, And I Think That

Volume 2 Chapter 70 (Sam Tyrell And The Ghost) Pg 161

The Reader Will Agree With The Guests, And Pronounce The Bushranger A

Bold Man, And One Of Considerable Address And Nerve.

 

Of Course, The Mounted Police Were Set In Motion, And The Country

Scoured For Miles In Extent, But No Signs Of Sam Were Discovered; And

The Mortification Of My Friend Murden May Be Better Imagined Than

Described When He Was Afterwards