GooDpD NEWS. 187 > ae teat joint stock of the precious metal on. a me left with Jake at ‘Liptown), and it- % ‘Teed da few articles which we should its 79 and our trip to the coast townships, wed 4 Was then ready to return to Tiptown, yive’ em Teg story to leaving Candlelight Gully ich 4 fy, Oring; but the Tips got to drink- a if, at first, and to quarreling among | ama: lves afterward, and wore the day be Y till near sundown before they were é ag lat 7° start for their distant tents. At 19 a ai Tough crowd was ready for a start ; Ti id start, yelling and swearing, for the fol- . too Tip- for em, | of ions that that lon an und. y m ‘ gob for & me! well ce Or ical, P ¥ anta hibit form y the ir" |low- 0 2d to yve th at d , an with shi “had store- amed arne sJight u rget. : aur ey> a few. 1iries; * 7 a dig- mans mem « uggeb oe did then I hat I shased tion’ a in kettle) Thad that day purchased, and Wn. I accompanied them, and we pet Some hundred of yards on our ‘When I missed a big billy (covered gz y ch were two pairs of new socks, a a W othe tobacco, some matches, and a er small articles. I remembered at tee Thad left it in charge of the | } Made er from whom my purchases were 4? Voile I was waiting for the Tips to tne ¥Y to start out from the township. Jak hot think of leaving it behind, “-- ®and I intended to sheer clear of } Cag, ee entirely on our way to the tan, © calling Charcoal, who was some To soy ahead of me, frolicking around i ‘the gi” the Ka-ka, I retraced my steps to 9 4;,.° Here there was quite a crowd, i Utes hors Waiting for perhaps five min- ore getting my billy; and on step- 8 edge the store, I could hear to 00 mM my noisy friends the Tips. z tged “round for aap ine but he was not . v3 he had probably not heard my Well aw. Was in no wise disturbed, being “i that I could travel much faster into the half-drunken Tips, and I struck “sted Path leading toward Tiptown, how pecting to come up with them in bie time. a eg OW necessary that I should briefly e the country lying between the Ordey t and the actual diggings, in | bat folleny the reader may understand a h 8. Onpo|foWNSh ip itself, including the camp ( $Ote op tation, the stores and often a sm bound re of tents of migratory partes ON a b or from the diggings, was located Poulg *4Nch of the Grey River, and boats - ‘Shets it from Greymouth during 1h of the stream. The township was ofa mile 4; but less than a quarter Penns On the route to the gully a ~F'eht ,,. “¥amp commenced, and extended ithe foot of the steep high hill ®, as it is there called, which fa ea — Pptis e swamp from the gully. y traytuka swamp was a wretched eage eu i. The trees were mostly small, 4 kin, together, and the crisp, dry- “Bare > Mss on the surface of the ground MOweq Yat once when trod upon, and atey Wit € foot to sink to the ankle in , itteg ‘th every step. If a long rest was Pay Be tired traveler had to discover bo ttuka ed traveler had to discover a root to stand upon or he would tmp himself up to his knees in bal we SCund. The paths through the hy fc innumerable, for almost every “_* auld strike out a new one for ih Sing] £8, as the passage of twenty men Rohl © file was sufficient to churn a hy Mg gine track into a stream —or mat bug gpant streak of splashy black Ke ere was one path much + more muddy than any of the Wee a led to the nearest spur of the Nd was known to the miners as 1 track,” of (amp extended right up to the too th terrace, and at the junction of eo ie be ® hill ao in many places rail lege, Washec away at some former KS Of oft e a nearly perpendicular hac hott blue sandstone, from five to he Sloped height; in a few spots the ter- Y War Own gently to the surface of Th; tes The various tracks all con- ky ea or the dozen or so “passes,” either ene by Cut by hand in the soft sand- ite con nich the sloping sides of the ate bine be reached; and an approach tg of 1 could always be told by the e footing, which was a good bia tin the hear the base of the terrace te hon Middle of the swamp. In the hb Nog VeVer, it was hard to tell any Tioth, °° all; it was mud, mud, right ittag, Passes, take ‘nto the side track which had sling f y the Tips, and hastened on, hy, lng of °r their yells; but I could hear We voe. them. IT soon mustered a good hy Lor hep teasiness, and growled at my- Hilly 2S Such a fool as to go back for ty tn} and then at Charcoal for not Naty nded me; but this did not hel " New much.» I knew that I shouk a atte €re if I kept on, so I tramped Ay Straay bravely along in the soft ; » and abused myself, Charcoal In . , ‘ tert Ps, to my heart’s content; no : Thonn? with me in that line. After Tato Ts march through the swamp to Pred to listen, but could hear'no jytesignticate that there was another 4% thee Myself in the world. Con- HT _ I must be far out of the right 'h tum Considering which way I had Sy 2 When I heard a splashing and Prepares and drew my revolver thbared or any emergency. I re- _ ~8 revolver to my belt as soon as "4 be Pen the cause of the noise appeared in sight; it was’ Charcoal, who looked as if he had been traveling a very muddy road, and had managed to gather the largest part of the mud in his shaggy coat. Vexed.as I was, I could not help a hearty laugh at his ridiculous appearance; but I could not see that my mirth had any effect’ upon his feelings. He merely whined and rubbed his big muddy head against my hand—I patted him, called him “good boy,” and started back along the path by which he had arrived; I. could not then (nor can I now) tell whether or no it was the route I had come over myself. I expected that Charcoal would have sagacity enough to lead me out of. the wretched manuka swamp, and was not dis- appointed, for just as ne viighs was leav- ing Isaw a mark I well knew on a tree beside the path—a “blaze” I had made there with my own ax. In a few minutes I was on firm ground, and a little. later I knocked at the door of the camp, having determined to lodge with the police that night, rather than to atwanyt passing through the swamp in the dark. . The camp was deserted, and after another good growl at the police for leaving it, aa for securing it so that I could not get in, I lighted my pipe preparatory to making another attempt at crossing the morass to Candlelight. As I stooped to pick up my billy, two men passed the camp from the direction of the stores (some hundreds of yards away), and kept on. toward the gully. The main track ran past the police station, but the travelers did not keep to that; turning to the right, they took the short cut’ for the “lower pass,” and were quickly out of sight—but not before I had recognized one of them, notwithstanding the increasing darkness, to be Mat Saw- rer; who the other was I could not’ tell. listened until their footsteps died away in the distance, and then taking the main track, with Charcoal going ahead, started afresh for Candlelight and Tiptown. CHAPTER XIX, THE MANUKA SWAMP, §|3 Manuka Swamp in the daylight; but in the dark it was difficult to make > any progress whatever. Floundering and splashing through the soft. mud—or seandittiekaidenata water, just as the reader will have it—now over my knees, and the next moment standing on a manuka root that ‘supported me at the surface, or tumbling over it into the black ooze, I toiled on toward the terrace, depending entirely upon my dog for guidance, as it was now absolutely dark—and having lost my way once; when I had light to go by, I did not feel much confidence in my abil- ity to keep ‘the right path, now that I could not see it at all. Charcoal kept in front, apparently understanding what was expected of him. Occasionally he would get so farin advance that I could not distinguish him from the mud in which he was moving, but a word would bring him back at once. It was tiresome work, and I was not so strong and well able to bear the fatigue as I had been before my interview with the judge and jury, the day Red Joe had been driven from the bridge; and before reaching the terrace Iwas so much ex- hausted that I flung the billy, socks, to- bacco and all, into the swamp; thus losing all for which I had left the Tips and’ re- turned to the store. I got along better after abandoning my baggage, and after the lapse of: perhaps two or three hours (it. seemed at least ten), I knew by the firmer feeling of the ground to my feet when I blundered out of the sloppy path, and the decreasing depth of the mud when I remained in it, that’ the terrace, with its steep sides and dry footing, was close at Kand: My legs were ony used up, but I was splashing ahead with renewed vigor to reach the firm hillside to have a rest; and I was debating with myself: the propriety of stopping on the terrace the rest of the night without blankets, when I suddenly bumped against Charcoal, who had stopped in the middle of the path, and nearly fell over) him into the »mud once more. Iwas annoyed at his lack of attention to his business, and commenced to upbraid him: ; “Go ‘long, you thundering old fool you! What are you standing there for, to capsize people into the mud? Hook it! will you?” ’ The dog drew in his breath in a series of chattering jerks, and turning his head, uttered a low’ growl, at the same time rolling up his lips and exhibiting a formid- able set of teeth; visible even in the dark- ness. Something was wrong, certainly, and I had Jake’s knife in» my hand in an instant. “What is it, boy?” I whispered to the dog, pete him on the head; “what is it, Charcoal? Good dog—good boy; watch him, sir, watch him!” The’ dog licked my hand, and gave an- other ‘low growl, as if in answer to my address; and as Iran my hand along his muddy wet back, I could feel that the ridge of coarse shaggy hair was erect and Qu I T was slow traveling through the : rigid, like the bristles on an enraged hog. “Watch him, Charcoal, watch him?” I whispered again; and: rising from : my stooping posture, I drew my revolver, to be ready for anything that might occur. That some unpleasant or dangerous ob- ject. was in my path, I did not question; the dog was too intelligent to make a fool of himself without cause. What the ob- ject was, was not.so easy to. determine. There are no wild beasts in New Zealand of sufficient size to annoy a human being, if we except the wild hogs; and none of these are found on the west: coast. The interruption, of my progress must then come from a man; but what would a man, if his. intentions were evil, be doing in such a place, at such a time? I knew well enough that there were rascals in and about ‘the gully; but if any. one in- tended robbery or, murder, he would cer- tainly not place himself where it was so very improbable that’ any human being would be seen at that hour. The swamp was. silent as death itself; and my speculations as to. what was in front of me were soon turned into another channel by a sound which I at once re- cognized, and which warned me that if I was in any danger, it was from my own race only—the sharp triple click of a re- volver, as the hammer was drawn back to prepare the weapon for instant use. Wild hogs or other animals do not use revolvers —men do; so the “lion in my path” was a man. It was something gained to be cer- tain of all this; but I learned still more from. that clicking—the direction of my enemy, if enemy he should turn out to be. I.had been listening with all my. senses on the alert, when the sound reached my ear; and it had appeared to come in a di- rection along the path I had.to travel to reach the terrace, and from a point some distance above’ my head. I knew that the foot of: the hill could not be far distant, and I at once concluded that the man who cocked that: revolver was on the firm ground. at'the head of the pass up which I should have to go in leaving the swamp. I had drawn my own pistol, but it was not cocked, and the. sound. of my antag- onist’s preparation warned me not to give him any further clew than he already ha1 as to my position. The night was so dark in the swamp, that I knew I could not be seen, Pressing. my finger on the trigger of my revolver, I. drew back the hammer with my thumb; then releasing the trig- ger, Leased the hammer forward until it caught, and my ‘weapon was ready, and made ready so noiselessly that the man on the terrace—for I had fully determind he was on the terrace—had heard nothing to let him know that he was confronting an armed man. Holding the pistol in my right hand and Jake’s kinfe in my left— for though a good pistol-shot, I had never practised shooting with the left hand—I fistened for some further sound. Once I thought I heard the cracking of a twig, but 1 was not sure. It did not disturb me, either way for I knew that no human being could approach me without being heard—noiseless movements in that swamp mud were out of the question. But my position was not enviable. I was grad- ually sinking in the morass, and was alréady up’ to my knees. True, I should probably go but little if any deeper; yet I might find it necessary to make a quick movement, and in that case it would be very embarrassing to be stuck in the mud. I did not dare to-shift my position, or feel for a manuka root—I should make too much noise in‘doing so, and $I knew well the value of silence just at that time. I was: also yery. tired and weak; cer- tainly not. in a good condition for a strug- gle of any kind; and I calculated (for I considered all my-ehances of success, tak- ing it for granted that’ an enemy was really at hand), that the approach of day- light would make me visbile to the man on the terrace, before. it~ would expose him to my’fire, as’ the huge pines on the hillside made a mi&uch deeper shade than did thesswamp smantkas, But in one thing I,had the advantage; I had a power- ful and faithful friend; brave ~as a lion, and of nod méan.strength—Charcoal, my dog—and I stooped to encourage him, and myself still more, by patting his head. He was gone, He certainly had been at my knee, but now I could net touch him in sunk in the mud, but’ he had gone some- where without my knowing it; and though I ‘listened “far. more anxiously for any sound after I discovered his “absence, I heard “nothing.»..Qnce}. indeed, I fancied that I detected a slight rustling of leaves away to my left hand; but the/ shifting of a bird on its perch might have made quite as much noise,;or it was possibly imagi- nation. I must have stood in that swamp mud for a full hour—a), long hour “that.-was to me—not daring to move, and’ scarcely breathing) after finding out that I was deserted by Charcoal, before he gave me any hint of his’ whereabouts. I had just taken a bite of tobacco asa substitute for a smoke (for of course it was madness to have lighted a match under the circum- stances, even if mine would have burned, which ‘they wouldn't, being all wet), any direction: id imagi > ; on ® uAid noptitaging /he had | nother and another made their appear- when there was a sudden stir in the direc- tion where I had heard the pistol click—a rush, a muttered exclamation, a fierce growl, a muttered shriek of human agony and terror. A curse sounded plainly on my ears, and a brilliant light shone out from the edge of the terrace—then there was a flash and loud report; I could see only the light, but I leveled my pistol at that and fired; instantly all was again darkness— then I heard a heavy full and a splash, the heavy breathing—snorting rather—of some animal engaged in violent exertion, the sound as of some one beating the surface of the swamp mud—and then once more all was still. Ido not blush to own that I wished myself safe out of the swamp, and I was very uneasy in my mind as to what would occur next; but I felt no inclination what- ever to give up without a fight, or to waste a single chance of resistance or escape.. The instant I fired at the light, I had cleared myself from the mud, and now stood on a network of manuka roots, ready to spring in any direction, if need be, with my revolver in one hand, and the knife in the other. I was prepared to run or to give battle, as might seem best. I probably should have made out very poorly at running away across that swamp, for it was slow traveling there at the best of times, and I was now about worn out. As I have said, all soon became silent, and then I heard a sound as of something oe me through the manukas. Shifting the knife into my right hand, to be ready for close quarters, I set my teeth more firmly, and glared into the darkness; but I could see nothing. Suddenly some- thing pushed against my lez; and I made a vigorous spring to one side, landing in the soft mud, and spatterng it in all di- rections with a prodigious noise, striking furiously at the object of my alarm with the knife as I jumped. But even before I struck, though too late to stay the blow, I recognized the new-comer as Charcoal. However, I didn’t hurt him any, for the knife went high above him, and my wrist was badly bruised by a manuka limb against which it struck. Patting him ap- provingly on the head, I whispered in his ear: “Good boy, Charcoal, good boy. What have you done to ’em, boy? Where are they, sir?” Another display of teeth and a harsh growl answered me; and not wishing to let the rascal. on the terrace—for I was satisfied that he was a rascal, or he wouldn’t have been there—have any sound to guide him in making a target of me, I refrained from touching my companion any more. At last that interminable night wore away, and I knew by the gray tint that morning was near; and exhausted as I was, I roused myself, grasped my weapons more firmly, and pee myself for a last struggle, for knew that the end could not be far off. Rapidly the dark- ness faded, and I could see Charcoal crouched on the manuka roots from which he had frightened me. Then the trees be- came more distinct, and at last I could plainly discern the blue face of the sand- stone cliff at the foot of the terrace. Every instant I expected to hear the ring of a pistol shot; but none was fired, and I could see nothing to justify my apprehen- sions, or explain the noises and sights of the previous night. In another half hour it would be broad daylight. Now Char- coal suddenly arose from his recumbent osition, listened for a moment, and then avored me with another grin and growl; but this time he directed his attention to the path along which we had floundered the night before. In a short time I could hear the tramp and splashing of a number of men, and Charcoal crouched close to the ground at my side, as he prepared for a spring; but I felt that my troubles were about over, for that night, at least—for the approaching party would probably turn out to be a party of diggers from the gully, who had been belated the night previous at the township. How friendly they would be to me I could not tell, but any change from the suspense I had been in, was a change for the better. The leading man of the party hove in sight around the nearest turn in the path, not more than fifty feet distant, and then ance. I saw at once that it -was a squad of armed police, and knew that they were on some special service that. brought them out at.such an hour;.but Charcoal seemed suspicious of them, On mischief bent, he crept along, dragging himself in the mud, vainly endeavoring to screen himself from their sight; and a harsh voice, in a tone of angry command, saluted me with: “Who's there. with that dog? Call him in, if you don’t want him shot—call him in, I say.” I knew the speaker; it was the detec- tive. Charcoal seemed to recognize the voice, for he whined and wagged his tail, and then started wallowing toward the new-comers, saluting them with barks of pleasure ; while I called out to them: ‘Don’t fire on the dog, for Heaven’s sake; he won’t bite, He’s my dog, Charcoal;