Christmas Penny Readings: Original Sketches for the Season

“Pussy, pussy, pussy,” I says, but she only swore and spit at me.

“Poor pussy; come then,” I says; but she wouldn’t come near me, and then I turned so savage that I threw the copper-stick at her, but only hit the tea-tray as stood on a little side-table.

“Bang, clang, jangle,” down it come on to the floor, and then there was a rush, and a smash, and a scream from Polly; and I stood skretching my head, and looking at the broken kitchen-window – for the beauty had shot right through it when the tea-tray fell down, and now there was nothing to do but pick up the pieces, and go and ask the glazier to come and put in the broken square.

“Oh, what a kitchen,” says Polly, as she came in, and really it did look a bit upset, and then seeing as she was put out, and going to make a fuss, I says —

“Bad job; ain’t it, my gal; but it warn’t me; it was the cats!”

“Drat the cats!” says Polly; and she looked so scornful and cross, that I give up all thoughts on the instant of ever getting a skin rug; but if there is any one mortal thing as I do hate, it’s a cat.

Chapter Thirteen

An Australian Christmas

No snow, no frosts, no bare trees, but in the daytime glowing, sultry heat, and of a night soft, balmy, dewy, moonlit hours, and yet it was Christmas-time, and the whole of the past day I had been picturing to myself the cold, sharp, bracing weather at home, with the busy shops and the merry Christmas faces, and now on that 24th of December I was dreaming away of the old home, fourteen thousand miles away; going over again the sad hearts with which we come away, and how we gazed till our eyes swam at the fast fading shores; recalling every sigh and sorrowful thought, when all at once there seemed to be a feeling of horror come over me, and I started up on the heath bed and looked about. But all was still; close beside me lay Abel Franks, my mate and companion, sleeping heavily; the moon was shining through the little window right upon the two dogs stretched before the fireplace, and made it light enough for me to see that everything was in its place. There were the skin rugs on the floor, the rough bench, stool, and table; the guns, rods, nets, and oars of our boat; the shelf with its pile of birds’ skins, the brightest hued which fell to our guns; skins of opossum and kangaroo hung against the wall; the burnt-out lamp on the table, with the fragments of our supper, all just as we had left them, while as the surest sign that nothing had disturbed me the dogs were curled up quite motionless, when their quick ears would have heard a step in an instant.

I lay down again and listened attentively for a few minutes, and once heard faintly the howl of a wild dog, but that was all, and there in the stillness of night, in that far-off Australian wild, I was slowly dozing off when I again started up and this time Abel was up too staring at me.

“What is it, Harry?” he cried, as at the same instant I asked him a similar question, and then up leaped both dogs, set up the rough hair round their necks, and ran to the door growling fiercely. The moment after came the cracking of sticks, a rustling through the bushes, and a heavy body fell up against the door, making the rough woodwork creak.

Living as we did in a hut of our own making, furnished by ourselves, our own cooks and managers, we studied dress and toilets but very little; our custom was to throw ourselves down upon our skin-covered bed of heath, so that upon this occasion we were both instantly upon our feet, and, seizing our guns, stood in readiness for action, if defence were needed, for in the days of Australia’s early settlements, before the bursting forth of the gold fever, many were the raids made by the savage, and the worse than savage bushranger, escaped “hand,” or convict, sent over from the mother country as a part of the dregs of her population, to settle in the infant colonies.

To open the door seemed the first thing, but we naturally hesitated, for that meant giving perhaps an enemy admission to our fortress, for the noise at the door might have been but a ruse to get the better of our caution. A heavy groan, however, decided us, and as I stood with my double gun ready cocked, and a couple of ready patched bullets rammed hastily down upon the charges of duck-shot, Abel cautiously undid the fastenings, and the two dogs, no mean aids at such a time, stood ready for a spring.

There was something startling and oppressive there in the stillness of the great wild, quite two miles as we were from the nearest station, and now roused from slumber in so strange a way; but there was no time for thought, for grasping his long knife in one hand, with the other my companion sharply opened the door, and as he did so a figure fell into his arms. The moonbeams, which streamed in at the open door, gave enough light to show us that we had nothing to fear from the new-comer, who lay before us groaning, while the dogs darted out after a momentary pause by his side, and began scouring about the open.

“Shut the door – quick – quick,” groaned the man, “they’re tracking me.”

We quickly acted upon his advice, and then, carefully covering the window and door with rugs, obtained a light and began to examine our visitor. And a ghastly spectacle he presented: a gash on his forehead was bleeding profusely, covering his face with blood; his shirt was torn and dragged half off, while one arm lay doubled under him in a strange unnatural position, as if it were broken.

“Why it’s Jepson,” cried Abel in a whisper, and as he spoke the wounded man started, opened his eyes and stared wildly, but closed them again, groaning heavily.

We lifted the poor fellow on to our bed, all the while listening for the warning we expected momentarily to hear from our dogs, for without explanation we knew well enough what had happened, namely, a night attack upon the little station of our neighbour, Mr Anderson, whose shepherd had made his escape to us.

Abel was, like me, all in a tremble, for we knew not yet what was the extent of the disaster, and though we neither of us spoke, we knew each other’s thoughts; and our trembling was not from fear for ourselves, but for what might be the fate of Mary Anderson, the blue-eyed Scottish girl, whose presence lent a charm to this far-off wild.

Hastily binding up the poor fellow’s head, I looked at and laid in an easier position his arm, which was also bleeding, having evidently been broken by a ball from gun or revolver. A few drops of rum poured between his teeth revived him, and he was able to answer our questions.

“Rangers, sir – six of ’em. They’ve burnt the place down, shot the master and young Harry, and gone off with Miss Mary and the servant gal. I was tracking them, but they were too much for me; two of them hung back and caught me from behind. I did all I could, and then ran on here.”

The exertion of saying this was too much for him, and he fainted away, while half mad with grief and horror, Abel and I stood gazing at one another.

It was evident that the villains would not molest us, for they probably only followed poor Jepson for a short distance, and then hurried after their companions. If they had been in pursuit we should have known of their presence before this from the dogs, which now came whining and scratching at the door for admittance.

We did all we could for the shepherd, and then, following Abel’s example, I drew the shot charge from my gun, replaced the bullets, buckled on an ammunition pouch, and then reloaded and primed my revolver. Seeing these preparations going on, the dogs immediately became uneasy and eager to be off, and though our quarry was to be far different to any to which they were accustomed, it would have been a strong, daring man that could have successfully combatted our four-footed allies.

Our preparations were soon made, and then, after placing the spirit and water beside the wounded man, we started off for Anderson’s Creek through the dense tea-scrub, for in our then excited state we made for the shortest cut. The moon was fast sinking towards a heavy bank of clouds, but she gave us light for best part of our journey, while the remainder was made plain for us by the glowing house and farm buildings in our front.

I couldn’t help it – when I saw the wreck of that house where I had spent so many happy hours, and shudderingly thought of poor Mary, dragged off by the bloodthirsty villains, I stopped short and gave vent to a bitter groan.

This roused Abel, who cried savagely to me to come on; for, faithful and true friends in everything else, there was one rock upon which we split, and that was our admiration for Mary Anderson. He was maddened himself, and scarcely knew how to contain his feelings, but the idea of me grieving for her at such a time seemed to exasperate him, and he almost yelled out —

“Don’t be a woman, Fred; come on, or we shall be too late.”

“Too late!” Too late for what? A shudder ran through me as I asked myself the question, and taking no notice of Abel’s angry manner, I was at his side in an instant, and we dashed on though the bushes.

Just as we got up to the rough fence Abel stumbled and fell over something, and on recovering himself he stooped and raised the head of a man. The ruddy flames shone full upon his countenance, and we saw that it was Harry, one of Mr Anderson’s men. He was quite dead, for the side of his head was battered in. Abel softly laid down the poor fellow’s head, and then we went cautiously round the building, with guns cocked and ready, in case the villains might be lurking about, though we knew enough of such catastrophes to feel assured that directly they had secured all the plunder and ammunition they could carry off they would decamp.

The greater part of the buildings were blazing. The house was nearly level with the ground, but the men’s shed and the wool store still blazed furiously, and on getting round to the back we both raised our pieces to fire, but dropped them again directly, for just in front, squatting round some glowing embers, were a party of black fellows, whom we might have taken for the perpetrators of this foul outrage, had we not known of their peaceable, inoffensive conduct.

In another instant they were running up to us, and a tall fellow, evidently their leader, suddenly threw himself into position, with his long, slender spear held horizontally, as if for throwing, and with the point aimed directly at my breast. Even in the midst of my trouble and anxiety I could not help thinking what an effect such a salute would have upon a stranger, for the unerring aim with which these untutored men can throw a spear is something surprising. But in another instant the spear end touched the ground, and the party closed round us, chattering and begging, and earnest in their efforts to make us aware that they had not been the guilty parties.

“Mine no fire,” said the leader. “No black fellow kill.”

“No, no,” I said; “but who was it?”

“Dat Sam, Sooty Sam,” said the savage, holding up six fingers, and pointing towards the bush.

I nodded, and shuddered, for I knew but too well the character of the mulatto convict known as Sooty Sam.

“You give me tickpence, mine shar,” cried the fellow.

Money was an article I seldom carried then, unless bound for the nearest settlement for stores, but I happened to have a fourpenny piece in my tobacco pouch, and I gave it to him.

“Dat not tickpence, dat fourpenny,” shouted the fellow, indignantly, for constant communion with the settlers had induced a strong desire for the coins that would procure rum or whisky.

A display of my empty pocket, however, satisfied my black ally, and leading us towards one of the sheep pens, he coolly pointed out the body of Mr Anderson, shot through the head, and lying just as he had fallen.

We soon learned from the blacks which way the men had fled, and tried to induce them to go with us to track the marauders, but without avail, night work being their special abomination, and nothing short of a fire like the present sufficing to draw them from their resting-place. We knew that our proper course was to rouse the neighbours at the nearest stations, but in our impatience to pursue the scoundrels prudence and management were forgotten. Unable to gain the assistance of the blacks, we determined to commence the pursuit alone with our dogs, after promising the fellows “much rum” if they would rouse the neighbouring settlers, who, we knew, would soon be on our trail; but in spite of the direction being pointed out, we found, to our disappointment, that the darkness would prove an enemy, and that we must wait for daylight, and reluctantly turned back.

All at once a ray of hope shot through my breast; just before me was old Gyp, my favourite dog, a great half-bred sheep and wolf hound, who was growling and snarling over a heap of what looked like sail cloth, but which inspection showed to be a tattered duck frock, filthily dirty, and stained with blood, evidently having been cut off by some wounded man.

Old Gyp was licking the bloody part, and growling angrily, and on my speaking to him, and encouraging him, he yelped and whined; and then, setting his nose to the ground, ran a few yards, looked back, yelped again, and then would have set off full speed along the trail, had I not called him back and tied a piece of tar band to his neck, holding the other end in my hand.

Abel’s eyes glittered as he saw the great powerful beast strain to be off, and then, without a word, we set off at a trot, and leaving the glowing fire behind, plunged into the darkness before us.

We reckoned that the villains had about two hours start, but encumbered, as we knew they must be, with booty, and the two women, we felt sure that, even with the horses they had doubtless taken, they could not have retreated at a very great rate; why, though we both felt that it was like plunging into the lion’s jaws, and that most likely one, if not both of us, would lose our lives in the impending struggle, there was not a thought in either of our breasts that savoured of fear, for the desire to overtake the villains was intense.

But it was a fearful task. The darkness was now terrible, and the eager beast struggled on, irrespective of bush or thorn, while every now and then some thick tuft in the track would trip me up. Abel had a hard task to keep up with me. But before daylight matters grew better, for we were in the wood, where there was scarcely any undergrowth, and when day broke we were threading our way through the sombre forest, where the tree trunks were all around, apparently endless, and so similar that only the sagacious beast before us, or a native, could have found a way through.

Now and then we could catch a glimpse of a star or two, but directly after the clouds seemed to close up again, and we stumbled on till a faint light announced the coming day, which found us blackened, torn, and bleeding, but as feverishly eager for the fray as ever.

As for track, that was invisible to us, excepting now and then, where the print of a horse’s hoof showed in a moist place, and told us that the faithful beast with us was worthy of the trust placed in him. Now we were out in the open, then making our way again through the tea-scrub, and then skirting a ravine beside the range of rugged, bleak rocks, standing out bold and barren, while the ravine, now here and there green, where a pool of water remained, or a tiny rivulet trickled along where we saw a rushing river in the rainy season.

If one’s heart could have been at rest how beautiful was the scene around, tree, bush, flower, and rugged mossy stone, where the track wound in and out, now down into the deep ravine, now crossing the little bright rill which sometimes trickled beneath the grass, and again appeared, leaping from rock to rock. Birds everywhere flitting and climbing about the trees, or hanging in places, like flowers of gorgeous hues.

But there was no peace for us, and we strode on till from the early freshness of the morning we were panting through the heat of the day, heat so oppressive that it grew unbearable, and but for the errand of life and death upon which we were engaged, we should have rested until the sun was again low down in the horizon.

Sooner or later we felt sure that we should come upon some traces of the marauders, and we were not disappointed, for, all at once, the dog gave a whining bark, and began snuffing about in the grass, where lay a bottle evidently but lately cast aside. Then on again, panting, with parched lips and tongue: any doubts that we had formerly had respecting the dog’s ability to trace the marauders being now fully put to flight.

And now the track led us right down into the deep ravine, where the sides rose seventy or eighty feet high on either side, at times almost perpendicular; but in spite of the roughness of the path, the coolness was most grateful as we struggled on beneath the shade.

I was at times so faint that I could gladly have rested, but the thought of those on before acted as a spur to my flagging energies, and I pressed on. Abel seemed to know no fatigue, and when he was in front, holding the dog, I had hard work to keep up with him, while I could hear him muttering to himself angrily as he pressed on.

All at once we pulled short up, startled by the threatening aspect that had come over the heavens. It was evident that a storm was coming on; and knowing, as we did, the character of the rain in the region we were in, the thought crossed both our minds, what would the ravine be if a storm came. But the dragging of the dog roused us, and again we pressed on, feeling convinced that we must be close upon the scoundrels; and indeed we were so close that, at the next turning, we came in sight of them – six, with two horses, two of the fellows being mounted, and with one of the women before him.

No sooner were we in sight than the dog bayed loudly; the two mounted men dashed on, while the other four posted themselves to oppose our further passage. There was no turning to the right or left, for the rugged banks effectually opposed all exit, in some parts completely overhanging the glen, and, outnumbered as we were, ours was but an awkward position. However, in the excitement of the moment, fear seemed to have fled, and holding the dog back, we hurried forward to where the fellows stood, taking advantage of every screen which presented itself as we advanced, for we knew how much mercy we had to expect as soon as we came within shot.

Fortunately for us, the huge blocks of quartz lying about afforded ample shelter, and we darted from place to place, each minute getting nearer and nearer. All at once, as I made a run forward to a mass in my front, there was a sharp reverberating crack, and I heard a bullet whistle by my ears, but the next moment I was in safety, and then Abel rushed to my side, but he was not so fortunate, for, as he crossed the open, two shots were fired, one of which grazed his shoulder and just drew blood.

It was now a matter of regular Indian warfare, and we knew well enough that if we dashed forward we must be shot down before we could get hand-to-hand with the ruffians, so Abel took one side of the rock, and I the other, to try and get a return shot at our enemies. It was a mass some fifty feet in length, and when I reached the end I heard Abel fire, and directly after, he fired again, emptying his second barrel, when there was a reply of three shots.

I was hopeful that, hearing two shots, the fellows would think we were both together, and taking advantage of some low bushes, I crawled right to the side of the ravine, and then screening myself behind a buttress, found that I could climb up a few feet to where there was a ledge, which I soon reached, and was then some twenty feet above the bottom, well screened by some bushes; and, to my intense satisfaction, I found, upon creeping to the edge and thrusting my double-barrel between the leaves, I had a good sight at two of the miscreants, whose heads and shoulders were just visible.

As I looked, Abel gave two more shots from his gun, and I saw the chips fly from the rock a little farther off, and then the two men I had not seen before rose up and delivered their fire – dropping down again directly – and evidently with some effect, for I heard a dismal howl, which told of the dog being struck. Directly after, one of the fellows in sight began to crawl forward, evidently intending to take us in the flank; but he had been outwitted, and with the barrel of my gun trembling as I took aim, I fired, and he lay motionless.

In an instant his companion turned in my direction, evidently saw the puff of smoke, and raised his gun towards where I was; but he was too late, I already had him well covered, and I fired again, when the poor wretch gave a wild shriek, sprang into the air, and then fell out of sight amongst the bushes.

I was so horrified that I lay there trembling, so that I could scarcely reload. The perspiration ran off my forehead, and my teeth quite chattered, but it was but for a few moments, for I recalled the scene of the past night, and then remembered what must be the fate of the prisoners were they not rescued. I felt that it was but life for life, and with another shot I might myself be weltering in my blood. The next moment I was cautiously peering out again to get another aim, and now my hand was quite steady. I could see the place where one of the men had shown to get a shot at Abel, but nothing of him was visible, so I crawled a little more forward, when in a moment there was a sharp pang in my left arm, so acute that I could not refrain from crying out, as I started up on one knee; and then I fell again, for, as I heard a second shot, my cap was struck from my head, and I saw that one of the men had changed his position, and was a little higher up the valley, leaning forward to see the result of his aim. But he was too eager, for the next moment there was a shot from Abel and the fellow rolled over, and lay full in my view, quivering and clutching at the ground, tearing up tufts of grass, and gnashing his teeth frightfully. Then came a run and a rush, and I saw the last of the four rush up the ravine, running zigzag, but I got a sight at him, in spite of my pain, and Abel fired too, though apparently without effect; and then the sky seemed to turn black, and the rocks around to swim, and I saw no more till I found Abel leaning over me, dropping some spirit between my lips from his flask.

“There, old fellow,” he said, grimly, as he bound up my arm. “Can you walk?”

I nodded; and seeming to gather strength each moment, I followed him down into the ravine, where we found that two of the men were quite dead, while the other was in a dying state, but he struck at us savagely with his knife whenever we tried to approach.

I saw Abel’s hand playing angrily with the butt of his revolver, and but for me I believe he would have shot the fellow as he lay, but I hurried him on, and we cautiously proceeded for about a hundred yards, but this time without our dog to track, for the poor brute was lying bleeding to death, shot through the lungs.

All at once there was a shot from a little gully on our right, when Abel threw up his arms and let fell his gun, which exploded as it fell, and then the poor fellow staggered, and went down upon his face.

I did not stop to think that the next bullet might find its billet in my heart, but dashed forward towards the spot from whence the shot had been fired, and directly after I was face to face with an enemy. He was sitting with his back supported by a block of stone, and his gun across his knees, glaring at me with a look of the bitterest hate, and a moment’s reflection would have told me that he was wounded unto the death, but in the anger and heat of the moment there was no pausing for thought, and the next moment both barrels of my gun, held pistol-wise, were discharged into his breast.

I ran back to Abel, and raised his head, but with a sickening, deathly feeling, I again let it fall, for the expression of his wild and staring eyes told too well how true had been the aim – the last sting of the dying viper; and when I somewhat recovered, it was to cover the body with fragments of stone, to keep off the birds, and then, weak and faint, I struggled on after the two mounted men.

But a change had now come over the scene; the wind tore furiously overhead, while where I was toiling along it was a perfect calm. Then came the rain – a few big drops, then a cessation; then again a loud and furious howling of the wind; then a calm; while, piled up in huge, lurid, black masses, the clouds seemed to shut out the light of day, save when they were rent asunder by some jagged flash of lightning of a vivid violet hue. Ever and anon there was a glare of light playing behind the clouds, lighting them up in the most glorious way, so that the rolling massy-looking vapours were displayed in all their grandeur, while along the edges, quivering and darting, there was an incessant tremulous light of every brilliant sunset hue. Now came the thunder in a mighty diapason, rolling along the ravine, and seeming as if the sound split and crumbled upon the bare summits of the range of mountains, while fragments of the giant peal were scattered, and came hurrying along the ravine. Then, again, burst after burst of huge, bellowing, metallic peals rumbling hollow and deafening as though discharged from some vast cannon mouth. Blackness again, as if it were night; till in a few seconds came again a blinding flash, displaying the wild aspect of the glen, but only to leave it darker than before; and now again a few drops of rain, pattering upon the dry ground, and splashing from the surface of the lichen-covered rocks, then a sharp fall as of a thunder shower, and I crept beneath the shelter of an overhanging rock, while I hastily covered the lock of my gun, and tried to load it with my one uninjured hand, when again came the lightning playing down the ravine, then black darkness and bellowing, deafening thunder, and then down came the rain – not pouring – not streaming, but in one huge cataract of hissing and foaming waters, as though, indeed, the heavens were opened and the fountains of the great deep broken up. It was as though to have stood beneath it for a moment would have been to be beaten down and swept helplessly away by the waters bubbling and foaming at my feet.