Australian Tales and Adventures.

Wairarapa Standard, Issue 2067, 13 May 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Australian Tales and Adventures.

No £4.—( Continued .) The I Bushranger’s Mistake, By E- A. C. He had written to Mr. Stirling saying on what day he intended leaving Mel bourne, and asking him, if convenient, tc meet him on a certain date at the little busk hotel where the coach deposited passengers for , adding that he had intended riding over, but on second thoughts, finding that his stay—for business reasons—could be but a very brief one, would prefer being driven, as by that means he would have more time to talk over bank matters. AH arrangements being settled, he started by an early train, which would take him almost half way on his journey, and allow him time to have some breakfast at the quaintlooking building from whence the coach started on its heavy road to . The three hoars’ jolting and shaking fairly tired him out, unaccustomed as he was to bush roads in winter, and it was with a feeling of intense satisfaction that be jumped down at the door of the “Miner’s Best,” and enquired if Mr. Stirling of had arrived yet. For all reply, the rough looking but oivil spoken owner of the place banded him a note, saying it had been sent over that morning with strict injunctions that it was to be given to Mr. Fortescue as soon as he arrived by the coach. Fearing some untoward circumstance had occurred, the manager hastily opened the letter, and found to his surprise that the nonappearance of his expected companion was due to a report that bushrangers bad been said to have been seen lurking in the vicinity of and that Mr. Stirling, not liking to leave the bank in the charge of the young clerk alone, bad determined to remain there also, but would if he could so arrange it, send the buggy. A hurried poetcript was to the effect that he could not manage the latter, as the horse had unfortunately gone lame and he could not borrow another at such short notice. It would therefore he thought, be perhaps the best plan for Mr. Fortescue to remain at the hotel till the following day when, if all were well, he would himself drive over and fetch him. The news rather disconcerted the manager; to wait as Mr. Stirling proposed, would involve the loss of a day and throw out all his arrangements, as he required to be back in town early the next week, before the mail left, and he had one or two other places it was necessary to visit before so doing. “What is the distance to ?” he enquired of the landlord, who just then appeared in the doorway. “ About 12 miles, sir,” was the answer; " do you need to be driven over 7 I am afraid we cannot manage that, but we can give you a good strong horse that will take you there before dark, and my man ia going over there to morrow and can bring it back.” “ That will do very well,” was the reply; “by-the-byo, what are these reports Mr. Stirling alludes to as to smne bushrangers being about 7 Have any attempts been made by them in this neighborhood 7” “None, I believe, about here, sir," answered the landlord; “ though my man tells me the lad who brought your note seemed a trifle soared at some tale that Black Jim and bis gang bad been heard of a few miles away from , bat I fancy it is but a silly story got up by some of the “ cockatoo squatters” hereabouts, who have mistaken some of the rough miners in the district for bushrangers, and I must own there are several of the former ill-looking enough to justify such a supposition. We bad just such a one loafing about the place this morning but I do not think there is any occasion tor uneasiness between here and “ I should fancy not," Mr. Fortescue replied with a smile; “ Mr. Stirling mentions that the police are on the alert, and even if there were danger, my duties admit of no'delay, and God’s band is over all those who trust in Him, my friend.” An hour later saw Edward on his road, carrying a loaded revolver, but more as a matter of precaution than from any fear of being “ bailed up.” The sun was sinking as he entered a lonely ravine that lay about midway between the hotel and the little township he was about to visit. The day bad been lowering and threatening rain since early morning, and the heavy clouds which betokened a coming storm, had caught a lurid glow from the gleams of the setting day-god and added to the weird impressiveness of the lonely scene. The summer had been an unusually hot one, and the winter rains had not yet fallen, so that all nature wore a parched and arid aspect. Here and there a great gum-tree had been struck at some former time by lightning, and stood gaunt and white amidst its companions, whilst huge branches lay scattered beneath it. Not a sound broke the silence but the rising wind moaning through the valley, the occasional distant roll of thunder and the hoofs of the horse as he slowly made his way over the rough, stone-encumbered ground. “ An awkward spot in which to be ‘ stuckup’ as the colonials say,” thought the young man as be glanced around him and noticed how rapidly the evening was closing in; “ it might have been better had I waited till tomorrow, and yet I do not see how I could have got through all 1 have to do, and been back in Melbourne on the sth, bad I delayed. No I am but doing my duty, and after all, what is there to fear; in life or death, I am in my Saviour’s loving care.” Well was it for Edward Fortescue that ho could truly say such words and rest in their blest assurance of safety, for as the thought passed through bis mind, a flash issued from a mass of thick trees on the right hand side of the gully and the report of a gun echoed sullenly through the ravine; another moment saw a riderless horse mad with terror dash on into the ever-increasing gloom beyond, whilst his rider, a few seconds before so full of life and vigor, lay stretched a corpse upon the ground. Just as the last faint sounds of the horse’s hoofs were fading away on the air, the branches of the tree from whence the shot had been fired, were carefully parted, and a man stepped out of his concealment and approached tbe body. He was tall and strongly built, dressed in rough bush costume and fully armed, as though prepared for all emergencies. His face was half hidden by a thick beard and moustache; but tbe dark, deep-set eyes had a savage, covetous glare in them that spoke of the oruel nature within. Bending over the motionless body, be placed one of bis bands upon the heart, seeking to find if any trace of life remained in his victim, and a grim smile of satisfaction crossed his lips as he rose up after bis brief inspection, “ A good shot,” ho muttered; “ my hand, at any rate, has not lost its cunning ; he dropped like a log on the ground. I wish I could have caught the horse; but tbe brute was fairly startled, and I had no chance. I wonder if he has any papers or jewellery of value about him ? It was a daring act of Black Jim to venture as be did yesterday to that shanty of an hotel and learn when they npeoted this Melbourne man. There was t pome talk too, he said, at tbe bar, ae to bush■rangers being about, and tbe police, lor a

wonder, on tho alert! 1 wonder how Black Jim and the others have managed that job at the bank? Not better than this one, that is certain. But I must make a search, and be off to meet them at the gap,” alluding to a break in the chain of mountains to tho westward where the bushrangers had concealed themselves. "How dark it grows; I must strike some matches for a moment.” Taking a box from his pocket, he struck several together and bending once more over his victim, ho moved the head so as look hastily into the face. " Never saw him before in Melbourne, to my knowledge. Now for my booty.” The pocket-book was hastily opened and then secured for future examination, and the outlaw next turned his attention to the right hard of the dead man. the g’.-.ara of the matches just revealing a ting as they died out, With a savage, impatient exclamation he struck some mo: e and raised the nrm so as to obtain a better view. Something peculiar seemed to attract tun. in the ring, and he knelt down, taking tire nerveless lingers in bis own to do so, A low ory— almost of horror—escaped his lips. ll lmr aril ir/c n had he last seen it? How came it on this stranger’s hand—that well known, familiar ring with his father’s crest upon it? How could it have passed away from his own people to be found out there in that wild spot? ll7m was this bank manager whom he had just brought to so untimely a death? A cold dew stood on his face as these questions presented themselves to him, and he sprang to his feet, trembling aa it with ague as the words were uttered a'most unconsciouslyOh, my God! 117/chi have I murdered ?” For some moments he stood there, unable to realize what he had done. The storm which had been gradually approaching, was now almost on him, but he took no hoed of the threatening roll of the thunder, nor of the occasional gleam of forked lightning that played around him. The sight of the ring appeared to have paralyzed him. At last be knelt down and again took up the band. Tbo sun-set glow bad now faded away and the figure of the young manager was bat faintly visible. The bushranger remained in the same position, wailing for another flash by which he might perhaps see enough to answer his own last question. Suddenly the sky was lightened by the vivid greenish glare,and the dead man’s face showed out pale and ghastly, to tbo eye that watched so eagerly, yet fearfully, for it. The dark, wavy hair had fallen back, and a deep scar of many years' standing, was seen near one blue-rimmed temple. Another cry—terriale in its misery and remorse—rang through the lonely ravine, as the bushranger ocught a glimpse of it in tho transient illumination. Too well he remembered that ecar, obtained in rescuing him from what was so nearly a watery grave. Too well be knew that fatal shot had ended bis brother’s life “ Edward—my brother 1 May God have mercy and forgive mol" Again the whole scene was lit up by the forked lightning’s vivid glare, and the thunder rolled away in deep muttering echoes, whilst the heavy clouds, black as ink, poured down their torrents of rain, as though seeking to wash away all traces of tho dread tragedy just enacted. But Ralph Fortescue never moved, for as the wild \ prayer for pardon passed from the lips for years unaccustomed to utter aught but oaths and curses, the lightning had acme as God’s dread messenger to call him to his last account. The non-arrival of the manager at did not excite any uneasiness in Mr. Sinclair’s mind, for he merely imputed it to the storm, or else to the fact that he had decided to wait until the next day, as proposed in the note. His own time too, since dispatching the latter had been bo startlingly occupied, that he had had but little leisure lor speculation on any subject. As Ralph had indicated, arrangements had been made by the gang to break into tbo bank whilst, as they imagined, Mr. Sinclair would be on his way to fetch the Melbourne manager. The leader, a notorious character whom as yet the police had been unable to capture, went by the name of Black Jim, and having heard a rumor of poor Edward Fortescue's proposed visit, had recklessly gone into the bush-hotel to learn what he could about it. Whilst there, the lad had arrived with tho note, and hearing the message that it was to be given at onco to Mr. Fortescue, the outlaw jumped to the conclusion that the writer was to meet the former during the afternoon, tho more so from the boy saying as he left:—" 1 think the buggy will be in tomorrow, as I heard the master speaking to Tom about having it ready in gord time.” Quitting the hotel at the same time, the bushranger managed to accost him, and drew him on to speak of who lived at the bank, the hoars lor opening, and other little matters which he thought might prove useful in the projected enterprise. Armed with this necessary information, he rejoined hia companions and sketched out the next proceedings. Ralph, who was noted for his quick eye and steady hand, was entrusted with the terrible errand whose fata! conclusion baa been already mentioned, and the remaining three, under Black Jim’s guidance, were to set off by daybreak for and if possible, seize the bank before Edward and Mr. Stirling arrived there. The scheme was cleverly laid, but tho latter portion was happily frustrated by the bank manager’s sudden determination not to leave boms. He felt uneasy at the rumors, slight though they were',as regarded the bushrangers, and was more thau satisfied with bis decision, when, late at night, one of the local police looked in to eay that Black Jim had been recognised by a patty of miners returning from work in the neighborhood of the Gap. He had passed them at some distance and seemingly in great baste, but the men were certain of his identity. “ Do you think it likely they will visit the township , Rogers?” enquired Mr. Stirling; “ if so, the bank would probably be the first place they would attempt ?” " The gang is certainly somewhere in this neighborhood, sir, “ was the reply,” both Black Jim and his mate, Ralph the butcher, as they call him, have been seen in various parts the last two months. 1 wish with all my heart we could catch those two, even it the others got ell —they are the worst cf the lot. They say the butcher is more of a savage then a civilized man; it was he that shot that poor young lad on the Hastings station, because he refused to be " Bailed up." He was found dying and only just able to describe hia murderer. What do you intend doing in the matter Mr. Sinclair?” “1 think it would be as well to bo prepared —one thing that makes me somewhat anxious is that the lad I sent to the hotel yesterday with a note for Mr. Fortescue, tolls me a dark, heavily-built man who was in the bar at the time, followed him out, and by praising tbe horse and the boy’s seat, got into a obat with him and seemed very curious about our goings on hero. 1 do not like the look of it, do you?; " Well no, sir, I cannot say that I do; the description is like those I have had of Black Jim; may ! speak to your boy for a moment ?” the officer added, turning to the door. " Certainly,” was the reply, “ and let me see you again when you have done so, Rogers.” About five minutes later the man returned, looking graver far than before. “ There is no doubt that the man was the leader himself, sir,"he began in a low tone, " and we had better take measures at once, in case they pay the bank a visit. (f they do come, it will most likely be early in the morning.” Calling in the clerk from the other room, a hasty consultation was held, and it was ar-

ranged that Rogers and the other policeman should be admitted into the bank at twelve that night, and remain with the officials until daylight. To make a long story short, it will be sufficient to say that their plan succeeded admirably ; Black Jim and one of tbs gang being secured after a desperate struggle, and the two remaining men so wounded that they were easily captured dnring the day and died in the course of the ensuing week. Too leader and bis companion were tried and executed, and by their deaths, the entire gang of d. ' run men was happily broken up and rooted out of the colony. It was s'. .1 early in the day when the landlord ot the hotel where tbe coach daily stopped, drove into the already disturbed township with the news of Edward Eortescue'a murder. The float warning he had had of the travedy was tbe arrival of the riderless horse, which was found in the early morning beside the stable door, whither he had returned after that terror-stricken gallop through the ravine, heeling a sad conviction that something tarible must have occurred to his late customer, the landlord with a few others at once started on the way to and to their horror found Mr. Fortcsoue lying phot through the head, and a man whom one of their number, (a policeman lately come up from Melbourne) recognized as the clerk who had been sentenced for embezzlement the previous year and whom the young manager had Fought so earnestly. " Tney were brothers," the officer continued turning to the group of rough-looking men, who were listening to him with a shocked expression on their weatherbeaten faces; " and Mr. Fortescue poor fellow, spared neither time nor expense to trace out this young villain who has taken his life. Day after day he was in Russell St. asking for news, and this is the end of it I Many a heart will be sad at the telegram when it reaches Melbourne, for both rich and poor liked him with good reason. I little thought who “ Ralph the butcher' would prove to be I The lightning must have killed him as he was about to rob bis victim.” Just at this moment the landlord rose up from examining the bodies ; “ I do not agree with you, Harris,” he said; look at the expression of horror still lingering on that man’s face,” and he pointed to the dead bushranger; ” I believe he recognised Ur. I‘ortescuo on coming near him, and was struck by lightning at the same moment.” As our readers know, the last speaker had judged correctly. The remainder of our story is soon told ; the tidings of Edward's death were duly forwarded to Ur. Harooort. to whom a letter was found addressed in the young manager's desk, but .Sydney never revealed tbe whole of the sad truth to bis wife. There was a three weeks' old son at that time at the Rectory, and Frances was still far from strong; eo it was judged best by her husband that she should merely learn that her favorite brother had met his death unexpectedly by the baud of a bushranger, one of a gang that had been committing numerous outrages through the part of the bush in which he had to travel and that had been fortunately since exterminated. All papers bearing any allusion to the case were carefully kept from her eight, so that she ehould learn no particulars, and friends were requested not to mention the subject more than was absolutely needful. Happily but few Australian journals ever found their way into the quiet village, and the one or two persons who knew the truth, loved Frances too well to let a word drop before her that would show there was more behind than she knew. Tbe relationship between tbe dead men was—by the kind interest of the firm where Ralph had once been clerk--kept as much a secret as possible, for the sake ot the surviving members of the family, who, in truth, bad Buffered enough through the outlaw’s misconduct. Any hope of ever hearing from, or seeing Ralph again, bad qnite died out of Frances’s heart when she received Edward's letter, telling the result of his trip to Ballarat, and she simply monrned for his, as she imagined, early death in a distant land. The loss of her elder brother was a far more bitter grief, and as Sydney strove to check the fast falling tears, be thanked Ood she knew but a part of the awful sesrot ha must for ever hide from her In bis own heart —that it was a brother's hand that bad fin d tbe fatal shot in that lonely Australian ravine, and brought each a deep sorrow to reet upon their otherwise happy home.