A LINDSAY O' THE DALE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13618, 11 December 1907, Page 11

A LINDSAY O' THE DALE.

J-'! • ■ " I tX&3BBH> BT SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. j

| §l|fv; - — • [ jjpi BY A. G. HALES.V I jrf *' i-tior' of "The Watcher on the Tower," I Jpriicoll. Kins of Scont»," " McGluaky." |; ' «• jßir the Apostate," etc., etc.

I /.'V ' f .. „ COPYRIGHT. . 1 *' i, * CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.) 1' osce amongst the timber I had little to " i knew it would be nightfall before the blacks could get on my tracks, and then ■' 'key, would have to camp and wait until, jJn for though it was the time of the foil moon no black could track amongst "" -'-trees by moonlight. • jj- progress was much slower than it had. been m the open country, but still 1 jot over a. lot of ground, the mare was so docile and so clever amongst timber. »A headitinsas horse is a dangerous creature to ride when the trees grow so close that even the best bush man can barely steer a horse between the tree-trunks. The 't overhanging bonglis th "' lace 11 rider so tfiddenly make it a matter of absolute tie- • ce ssity to have your mount under perfect HJttifoi. A bad-tempered brute, or one with a mouth like an iron bar, would soon bring a rider to grief, and, in any case, one his to be ready to duck like lightning so as i,) avoid a smashing blow on the forehead 5r across the chest. i . My mare had a perfect temper, and such a mOUth that 1 could have ridueii her villi a «el of cotton, let alone reins. ' •As soon as [ entered the limber I hail lacked my skirt -up round my waist, ami, r,throwing my leg over the. saddle, mto stride, as men do; else my ruling-habit would have caught in the branches, and 1 would have been pulled out of the saddle before I had gone far. I followed the bush until I came to lie Red Hills, and then I wheeled away and took to the open country again, i meant to ask the iron-grey mate a big question I that- night, and 1 did. Steadily galloping, % we swung along until tin? stars came out. I halted her by a, running rivulet, and lit her pick up a bit of the rich grass that iVew there. I pullet 1. off my shoes and tilled them with water, and bathed her as ■ well as I was able, and when I had done :i that 1 ripped my underskirt into two pieces and rubbed* Iter down. Then once more I put the saddle on, and 1 v ent away 01}' toy quest- - V All at once in the night light I saw a dozen little twinkling camp-liics, and 1 I : ipproacbed them with care, because 1 knew | Mier were not the camp- of our people; oejiber my brother nor my husband would . bs.so reckless as that. As I got closer I jaw what. they were. They were camps the wild blacks. . These nomads never make one big fire I an 4 camp near it for warmth, but each mill and his "gin," or wife, has » tiny lire. The Jinan coils himself half way round ; this on one side, like a big lizard; the woman, or gin, coils herself round the % jther side, and so they sleep, in the coldest I ■ mther, with no more covering than that which nature supplies. I rode past the camp, and the wild people sat up and looked at me, and I expect they I pat me down as a bush-demon as I flashed : into view for a second and out again. I rode the good mare without mercy, until iho began to falter in her stride; and just at the break of day I came to » splitters' eunp. Early as it* was, the men were [finding about a big fire, smoking, i ": ; >':"Tb6T were a repulsive-looking lot of I • tcoundrels, and my heart sank within me , : u I saw them. for surely no woman could i' - trust herself in their company. But my ' mare was dead beat, and 1 would have to 1 ;MtLwater and corn for her; and. besides, •I had reached a point in my jouniey where •I must get information from some source .fibnoeming the movements of the gang. ;'•> . Taking my pistol from the holster. I I slipped it into my belt, and rode up to the | group around the lire. f ' :Ther gazed at me as if I had dropped from the clouds, for no- white woman had teen seen "there before. ■ ; "WhfiL ia "in charge' here?" - I asked,' as- , i<ialeflv as I could speak' but I fear my •tongue faltered a little, they looked such ,»ij evil lot of desperadoes. '"I am," answered a short, heavily-made fellow, whose coarse, sandy beard seemed , to.cover the whole of his'chest. He had ; " gaol-bird written all over him, Written i deeply, too. He was a creature who had - lived in prison hulks and in chain-gangs : for the. test part of a lifetime, a runaway I : prisoner. | -He looked from me to my mare and back - iv me, and. look made me put my hand ; >; . J to'my pistol-bu'.t. { '"You are the wife or daughter of some lifuatter who lias got bushed, eh? A\cnt '.H'me of us to guide vou home to your ma, • *r: ' , He grinned like on ape. ■ ' :/S"I am Killowen's sister, and the wife of ;, - tk fljjtlqLW McAllister," I answered hotly, : for his grinning face had roused my blood. ' -."I 'have come here to warn our people :-thai a big party of fresh police are out , looking for them; and I want food for oiydtorse and for myself, and all the infor- • .nation I can get as to the whereabouts of : the gang." > The mare was standing with drooping had, so I slipped down from her back, -determined to_make a bold Btand, for I I Jtead, so I nothing down gained from detornjiwed to._make a bold Btand, for I knew, that nothing was to I>© gained from -•hjHPtng fear at a time like that amongst inch wild beaato.

The" follows KtaMd at. mo when I told them who I was.- One cam© forward and «t«red to take off my saddle.and bridle. "You've ridden far," he said easily. . ,"Y«, I've ridden far and fast,"' I angered, v ' : ||! $• flipped the (Middle from the mare and -~%vrt her an ample feed and a bucket of ,w4t*r. The short, • heavy ruffian told mo *M'pi Into a tent near by, and food would »* brought to me. "ft's my tent," he *jded; "and yon can have a sleep on the Iwnk if you. want to." VI tola him I could do without sleep, .»sd a»Jfed him to bring the, food. ~', This was done, and the fellow sat on ; th« edge of the bunk and watched me until I Could stand his presence no longer. jss "Ptewe go away now, I want to be tdtto*," I said firmly. » ,H« did not attempt to move, but looked Mc at me insolently. *'J*'l think this is my tent," he sneered. . In a moment I had levelled my pistol full ~*t his face. "Go out!" I did not say .wither word, but I think he saw fjoinethmg in my eyes that affrighted him. for ■{• We and slouched out, curbing vilely as m did so. * : { I finished my meal as quickly as I could, ' fwl knew that I must eat to keep up my : jtrength and resolution; but as soon as I 'had swallowed the food I went out to the wen., I did not want to let them plan any mischief. J>'.J*° ft ny of you know anything of the movements?" I demanded. , "The Killowens don't own the earth, if you think they do." granted the fellow I |«W driven out of tho tent. ':*■'• The KilloweriM own fifty men in these parts, any of whom would kill you like a -«<* if they knew you had insulted me," I ~!"*de reply; "and," I added, turning to *** others, " the Killowens pay well for any %WBL offered to any of them in time of ':,'; need.".. J

, : «. That's true enough, miss," said one of ■^fellows." 'JJ' 8 ' not 'miss' now, I'm Mrs. McAIHs--;'W» : I retorted tartlv. "I want informavSV WiU an of y° B* ll M" .#' V**nnft will buy information as well as ; '«>• KiUowena, and pay as high for it," .•»»<!>«» leader. * ' t-«.Did Vernon ever keep faith with any I u '" ■ * threw the words at the gang. ' l?i ° 8 of horrible oaths answered my •Jjailenge. I knew I had struck the right ■"■ !™w. for Vernon was noted for his faith""to* to theae he used. ... no?/ much will you pay us if we lay ; SII on to the gang you are looking for - /" ?W*d the ladder, whom his mates admitted as "Sandy Bob." ill not deal with von at any price," ■■■;'** my. retort. "I don't trust tou an inch." '* m leader here," snarled lie. "You'll •-nothing unless you'll deal through me. *wn. Hiding his touvago up, lie began ''SJml*'" "Who're vou to put on airs? v* Kijtirtrt ate no "better than we are. . *« w the chain-gang with one of them,

so you needn't put on any fine-lady manners with us; we're as good as you are." "You were in the chain-gang with one of my brothers f' • "\es; tile one you called Ken." "Would you ever like to meet him if he know how you treated his sister to-duy?" The fellow turned ( ghastly white, for all the convicts had heard of Ken since ho had been driven half-mad by prison life. " He's not likely to got away," the fellow gasped. "Isn't he? You got away; why shouldn't he? And if he does, and fie heats that you threatened his sister, what will happen to you. do you think?" The ruffian laid his hand on the horn handle of his knife and glared like a beast of prey, and I understood then the terrible nature of the reputation that Kenneth, once our innocent song-bird, had made for himself even amongst men who were nearly all savage, with the savagery that comes 'from fiendish punishment, and 'degrading living. Oh, if ever the real history of the penal settlements of Australia is written, the world will shrink back with a shudder; but it will take another Dante to write it.

Again i turned to the group. "Will you tell me where I can iind the Killowens?" A man stepped out of the cluster. "Yes," he answered ; " I'll take you to the place where you are sure to meet, one of them." Home of the others chimed in, "Ay, ay, Billy Huberts, that's right; you take the ladv, and in;; back the reWard." When the iron-grey marc had rested suf* iuently, I rode away with my guide, who was mounted on an old screw that was not worth live shillings a leg. He was a humorous scamp when away from the more desperate of his comrades. As we rode along lie told me tales of his early life. " 1 used to live in a place called l'enge, not far from London," he said; "hut the police had no love tor me, and they got me sent out for life." "What were you sent out for'.'" I asked, more for the sake of saying something than because 1 cared to know.

He chuckle*!, and replied. "Oh, they sent me out oil account <>' my religious convictions. 1 was awfully attached to the church in my youth, muni.'" Bryan told me afterwards that the scamp had told the truth. it was his religious convictions that brought him into trouble, ifo used to travel about, disguised as a. clergyman, collecting money for all sorts of things, especially for founding churches, and this he, of course, kept. lie was convicted again and again, and at- last, on account of the nnnib-.T of convictions recorded against- him, he was sent out as an incorrigible scoundrel. He led mo to J'rogan's Gully, in the Davenport ranges', a»>d there the gang soon heard of my arrival, and my husband came hot-fool to*greet, me; and when 1 told my tale lie made, me mount a fresh horse, a hardy little chestnut, and ride with him to a safer spot, whilst the good mare was left in safe keeping to pull herself together after that gallant effort of hers. So, side by side with my outlaw husband, 1 rode away in the dusk of evening, and lie petted me and bade me have 110 fear while lie was by my side. But my nerves were all on edge, and at every moment I started in affright, and turned half round in my saddle to listen. (To bo continued daily.)