A LINDSAY O' THE DALE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13597, 16 November 1907, Page 3 (Supplement)

A LINDSAY O' THE DALE.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY A. G. HALES, Author of "The Watcher on the Tower." " Driscoll. King of Scouts." " McGlusky," " Jair tho Apostate." ctc., etc.

COPYRIGHT. CHAPTER Yl.—(Continued.) All this time Davie had been pelting bullets through the windows on his side of theiiouse, and father had been shooting through tho front, and poor Mrs. Frazer had been kneeling on tho verandah by her groaning husband, who was in a bad way. A little after dawn tho lady rose from her kneeling position, and, without a moment's hesitation, walked over to father and bogged him to call bis men off. " I must get a doctor for my husband," said she, "or ho will die; and if you stay here long, you will have the Afghans and white police and the volunteers down on you, Mr. Killowen. It is madness for you to throw away your own life, and the lives of those fine young sons of yours. You can only take the houso by rushing, it, and if you do that, half of your mates are sure to fall in the rush; the others will then bo outnumbered by Vernon's men. Ho is counting on some such plan." "The cur will not como and fight mo fairly?" queried father. "After all his boasting, ( he prefers to hang back?" "Vernon is not a brave man, any more than he is a good one. He will not meet you, Mr. Killowen; he knows how ho has wronged you and yours. His guilty conscience makes him a greater coward in your presence than he is ordinarily, and I do not think he is at any time a hero." I can't call my men off," father answered, " for directly wo leave cover, those black bounds will pluck up heart and fire upon ns." "Will you agree to a truce, if I arrange it? asked she.. "If you will promise not -to fire on them as they leave, I'll get them to go by tho back way. You can thus return to your horses and make your escape. I want you to do this for my sake, for I must get a doctor if my husband is to be saved." " I don't bear your husband any malice, Mrs. Frazer," answered'father, "because ho came out and took his chance like a man, though why he should want our lives I can t tell. ' "You agree to tho truce, then?" she queried. " I'll do what you ask me, for your sake, but in less than an hour I'll be after Vernon again. This world is not wide enough for that man and me to live in at tho same time." Away went Mrs. Fraser, and in a few minutes Vernon and all of his pack who could walk filed out the back way. Not one of ours had been hit, but three black troopers had been laid out, and Mr. Frazer had been disabled. Scarcely had the gang got to their horses ere the same boundary rider who - had warned them over-night rode up and said: " You, Killowen, had better make tracks out of this, for one of Vernon's black troopers has just galloped past the outer track; he's steering Straight for Sugar-loaf range, where the Afghans are camping,^ and he is sure to bring up reinforcements." Are you certain it was one of the men who was with Vernon during the fight?" demanded father. "Yes,' said tho stockman; "it was ' Wonga Billy.' I know the beggar well." Davie sprang forward with a savage cry. " Are you sure, it was Wonga Billy?" Yes." . " Father," said Davie, " you and the rest make for our old camp. I'll join you in an hour or two. I'm going alter that nigger. He's tho brute who kicked mother, and knocked her down in the dirt of the track the day I was arrested." He swung Honeyball round, and gavo the big, yellow-bay horse his "head, and went sailing away like a bird on the wing. Tho others sat loose in their saddles, and watched Davie riding. He was a perfect picture of a horseman, long of limb, and light. The horse stretched out in all the beauty of his splendid stride, glad of a chance to gallop with a master-hand like that on the rein. There was a big, stout, .five-barred gate, painted white, right in front. All the rest was wire-fencing. Honeyball sighted the

gate, and pricked his ears forward, end Davie sat upright in the saddle and kept his hands hard down. Honeyball raced at the gate like a greyhound, and as ho neared it he shortened his stride and launched himself into the air, and'the watchers heard" Davie's cheery laugh ring out high and clear. ; "That's something like a horse," remarked father. " I haven't seen anything like that leap since I left Ireland.'' ■ " I wouldn't like to be the horseman who has to get away from Davie to-day," cried Bryan. " I wouldn't like to be the man he is after when he gets to grips with him," chimed in Basil. And then they rode on towards their old camp. . Davie, on Honeyball, steered so that he would cue off Wonga Billy before he could reach Sugar-loaf Hill. He had no time to waste, and ho knew it, so he held the mighty, yellow-bay horse well together, and lot him gallop as if he was taking him over a four-mile steeplechase course. On that splendid brute ho had not to pick a path, as ho might have done on a meaner animal. Everything that came n his way lie went at, and nothing stepped —fallen trees, gates in station' fences, great sun-cracks in the soil, ravines, creeks — laughed at the lot. Never once did he have to touch tho lion-hearted beast with the steel; just a word, and a firm pressure of the knees, and the horse answored his call. At last ho caught sight of Wonga Billy, loping along with that peculiar method that black men always seem to make a horse adopt. Tho black did not know that ho was pursued', but happening to look behind him he saw the racehorse rushing down upon him; somo instinct within him told him this. was a foe, and he crouched over his horse's withers and rode like a man demented, for Sugar-loaf Hill loomed clearly ahead. The black's horse was a good one, but "as well might a summer's breeze try to outspeed a cyclone; tho horse that had cut down the flower of Australia's thoroughbreds' on the racing track as if they had been hacks, was not to be stalled off by* a troop-horse. Honeybail . rushed to the commoner's quarter with a few giant strides. The black rolled his eyes backward, and recognised Davie. He gavo a yell of fear, for ho knew well why the long* lean lad was pursuing him; he remembered the white woman he had kicked into the dirt of the track, bringing the blood from her poor, quivering, loving mouth. Ho fumbled at his belt for his pistol, but it was too late. Honeyball passed Tain with a rush, and Davie, standing in his stirrups, brought the butt of his carbino down on tho black's skull, cracking it as if it had been made of china. Then tno lad turned stcrnl>-Mid rode off to join the rest of the gang, his young face drawn in fiercr, new lines, for tho killing of men was new to the laddie, yet to the day of his death he never regretted that deed. He had avenged tho most loving mother that man ever had in all this world, and be would not have been a man's son if he had not. Heading Honeyball for the thick scrub, he was soon hidden amongst the close timber. But ho kept his eves and ears on the alert, and it was well that he was so careful, for just as he was about to canter out from his coyer into more open ground, ho heard the murmur of voices. Checking [ Honeybail, he slid from the saddle, and, whipping off his coat, covered the good animal's bend with it, for fear that the horse might whinney to any other animal in the vicinity. ='. Peering like a wolf from his hiding-place, he saw a black trooper on a grey horse riding along the bed of a creek, and behind the black rode a number of white police. The b'ack was acting as a tracker ; slewed half round in his saddle, he held his bridlerein in his right hand, and pointed to tracks in the creek with his left. Davie knew that this black bloodhound was on the trail of the gang, and he knew also that the trail was an open book to tho lynx-eyed aboriginal. Every mark on tho loose stones, every indentation in tho soil told a tale to him. By such signs he could' tell whether a horse was weary or frerfi, whether it was lamo or sound, and he could • tell • whether the riders were skilled horse- ] men or unskilled.- Ho was more to be dread/ i cd than any bloodhound that ever bunted ! slaves in Cuban forests, for ho could hot only follow a trail, ho could talk and explain matters to those with him. Davie let them pass, then altering his course, so as to avoid tho human hunters, hi dashed away at a flying gallop to warn the rest of the gang. It was well that he did not let the grass grow under Hoiieyball's hoofs, for just as tho gang moved ' from their hidinc-placo they beheld Vernon, with a strong detachment of men, coming towards their haunt, and the bushrangers were thus between two parties of foes. " How did they discover the track along that ravine, I wonder?" was Basil McAllister's query. I'd like to know that myself," answered Davie. "They must have found the singlehorso track that leads through the cava in Granite Hill." "Who is that white man who is leading then}?" asked Bryan. "I seem to know the cut of the fellow" somewhere." " It's Red Michael, the timber sawyer," he added a second later. " I know the cur ; he has betrayed us for the sake of the reward." • , ■ Now, this man, "Red Michael," was a convict who was out on " ticket." Ho had been sent out from England to tho penal settlements for life for a dreadful crime. He had been cook - - board an English ship, the crew of which had mutinied) and murdered the officers. Red Michael had been' the ringleader in tho mutiny,' but had betrayed his -criminals to save his own worthless life. They were all hanged at Liverpool, but ho got off with transportation to Australia. All this came to my knowledge at a later dafe. He was a smooth-spoken" follow, who had represented himself to the gang as a much-injured man, who had been "sent out" for a crime of . which ho was guiltless. Father had helped him with money when f he, was too ill to work, .and, later on, had given' him enough to buy a team of bullocks and a waggon, with a bit extra to start him as a " sawyer" in a. rather bigway for a bushman. Ho was one of the very few who had been trusted with the secret of the pass through the cave in Granite Hill, and he had .sold tho secret to Vernon. The man was a traitor by instinct, vet he had a remarkably open, honest-looking countenance, and' led, outwardly, at any rate, a decent, straightforward kind of life as compared with that of most of the men by whom he was surrounded. This fellow looked round him fearfully from. time to time as he rodo beside Vernon, as if he thought that tho 'trees might have eyes, and they had. Muffling their horses' heads, tho gang waited quietly until the police pissed, and then they rode away along the very track that the officers had entered by. But they had not gone far ere they were aware that Vernon had wheeled and was following them. It transpired later, that the police party whom Dave had first seen had "cut" the tracks of the gang, and then the fateful hunt began. As soon as father became aware of the pursuit, he turned sullen. "You lads ride on," .said he, "and make yourselves safe. I'll hang about and try and settle my old score with Vernon. .It goes against my grain to run in front of him, the cur." "Some of the men with him are game enough," answered Davie. " Let us get on. ■ We will even up matters with Vernon, father, all in good time." " I can't sleep . for thinking of the way he has wrecked your dear mother's life. I can't eat or drink without tho memory of the fellow poisoning my food. I'm getting old, and an old wolf is a bad wolf to drive, Dave, my lad, so let it be as I say. You lads ride on." "Not a bit of it, Mr. Killowen," put in Basil. "When one stands at bay, the lot stand. For my part," he added, : in his devil-may-care ;fashion, "I'd.just as soou stand where we are and fight as not." But father shook his head; at that,, and rode sternly on, brooding with hard, set. eyes all the time, for his heart was breaking for a sight of mother. . They were making for a spot known as the Quondong water-hole, 'an; old, abandoned blacks' camping-ground, where the water and ..the grass were good. . . -j - - , 47V. .W. : ctaUldi *