& lete Series, eS Bs At { Seoeal Seles No.za.'} American Tales, | No. so: Price Fifteen Cents. ‘ x i i i itt ALR THE BUSH RANGER: THE H Sanne eset OR, ALF -BREED BRIGADE. Vastell 4 Oo., 8 Front St Brooklyn. 7 AME a. _' The Wrong Man! the succeeding number, (81,) of the always : y Captivating American Tales! Which will issue on Saturday, February 18tn—we will give: THE OUTLAW-HUNTER: A Romance of the Ranges. BY THE AUTHOR OF “THE BUSH-RANGER,” Using several of the best characters introduced in his previous volume, the author has here opened out a story of a singular and absorbing nature. While it is a most im- pressive and real delineation of life “‘in the bush” and settlements, all that is secondary to a tale of transcendent interest, centering around the young convict whose life is hunt- ed, and whose astonishing fortunes create, in the reader’s mind, asympathy which does honor to our human nature. Red Jack is a “‘ bushwhacker” of the Australian type—a dreadful rogue, but, withal, a most reckless and enterprising scoundrel, whose life and deeds make the staple of many a local tradition; and the,“* Block Police” whom he so bewilders and baftles, find in his pursuit an employ that enlists all their best powers as Man-Hunters, The romance is written in a style of narrative which shows that the author is as much a master of the pen as he evidently is master of the rifle and bush knife. No, 21—The Death Track : or, the Outlaws of the Mountain. By the author of “ The Gold Guide.” No, 22—The Blue Brotherhood; or, the Young Patroon’s Inheritance. By Newton M. Curtis, f No. 23—Alapaha, the Squaw: or, the Renegades of the Border. By Francis M. Johnson. No. 24—The Border Bandits; or, the Horse-Thief’s Trail, By the author of ‘* Death Track.” No. 25—Assowaum, the Avenger; or, the Destroyer’s Doom. By Francis M. Johnson, No, 26—The Texan Spy; or, the Prairie Guide. By Newton M. Curtis. No. 27—The Red Trail; or, the Creek Chief’s Captive. By the author of the ‘Ocean Queen.” No. 28—The Sea Bandit; or, the Queen of the Isle. By Ned Buntline. 0. 29—Old Tiger, the Patriot; or, the Heroine of the Mohawk. By Newton M. Curtis. For sale by all Newsdealers ; or will be sent, post-paid, on receipt of price—riFTEEN BEADLE AND OOMPANY, Publishers, 98 William Street, N. Y. THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. \ s A ROMANCE OF THE BUSH, BY FRANCIS JOHNSON. NEW YORK: BEADLE AND COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, 98 WILLIAM STREET. . a j YY s Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, 4 By Brapvr / inp ComPpany, in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington a THE BUSH RANGER, ‘ & ’ . OR, | “THE HALF-BREED . BRIGADE. CHAPTER 1. THE STATION ON. THE, MURRAY. % r ALL di bustle and activity, life and joy, at the squatter Powell’s generally still and lonely station, which was situated on the river Mur- ray, and, the shout, ‘‘ The waggons aie, coming !” passed from mouth to gion * * “‘fouth.. (jo ; »y The waggons were, coming, certainly ; and a stranger would have per- ceived nothing, extraordinary in the event... But he who has lived, there, eras acquainted with life at astation, knows the significance and full im- | portance of this news. bg ; uo The intercourse between the, stations situated on the Murray.and in the interior of Australia, the owners of which are,called squatters, and the rest of the.world, is carried on almost entirely by means of waggons drawn by bullocks, These convey the products of the stations, such as wool, tallow, skins, and sheep, to the nearest. town, and, if possible, to a seaport, aud they return loaded with. everything wanted in the, bush, such,as sacks of flour, casks of sugar, chests of tea, tobacco, horse-shoes, clothes, boots, &c., dzc,..As the arrival of the waggons, particularly at distant, stations, takes place only once a-year, the reader can easily im- agine how eagerly such an event is expected, how joyfully their return is greet The.small population of such a station, resting in the bush like an is- Jand in the ocean, have. plenty of opportunities for the exercise of pa- tience.. Bullock-drays are an extremely. slow kind of conveyance ; and * /bullock-drivers, trustworthy as they may be, terribly sleepy. messengers ; aud when the time of their return has to be reckoned by months, it almost ‘Seems as, if it. would never arrive. ; - \jo-Before breakfast, on;the morning upon which our story opens, a store- xeeper,had arnved at the station at the full speed of his foaming horse, to announce the joyful news that the waggons were only a few miles $ THE BUSH RANGEE; OR, distant, having encamped the previous night by the river, and that they might therefore be expected at any hour. He brought with him a large bag of letters and newspapers, entrusted to his care for more speedy de- livery—letters from home !—Only those who have spent years and months abroad, without news from the dear ones at home, can compre hend the blissful and wonderful feelings which fills the heart as one opens the long and. ardently wished-for messages of love and affection. Let- ters from*home }+-Why, ther post-mark: itself is a remembrahcer ot our youth : the address, the seal—the mame of our native town, with the somewhat old date, all suggest pleasant recollections ; and the news it- self, the beloved words the letter brings us—intelligence which stirs our innermost soul, telling that all those dear to us are well and happy, still thinking of us with their old undiminished love—gives fresh enjoyment to our lonely existence. Such a day ag this is indeed a vod Bt tival int the monotonous life of the settler: the letters are read ovér and. over again, first in silence and alone, then aloud to the family circle, and the dear and beloved characters are repeatedly conned. The Powells were no exception in this respect. Breakfast was served, but soon grew cold; for no one, with the exception of the children, _thought of touching it. ‘Torn ‘erivélopes Covered the floor ; open letters hastily glanced over, and newspapers still folded up, were strewn upon © the table i all directions ; and the family were noac rafal some in one nook, ‘sotrie’in’ another, reading in silencé, Tobit Powell was one of the wealthiest squatters on the Murray, pos sessing numerous herds and a pretty comfortable station—that is to'say, comfortable forthe bush.” Itt a civilized country it would scarcely ‘have been ‘considered ‘a proper habitation for a man oceupyiug' his ‘position in life.’ But in the bush thee ate but few pretensions ; and ‘even’ the ladies, after a few years, which passed rather slowly, ‘felt happy,’ or ‘at least’ contented, in this new ‘sphere, 80 different ‘from ‘the ‘orie ‘to’ which they had ‘been aceustomed: John Powell was'a married midii, with’ a family of five*ehildren’; eon- sisting of*two danghters, the eldest being nineteen, the’ youngest sixteen years of age; aid three sons, whose respective ages were, twenty, thir teén, and twelve. He had settled on the Murtay about seven years be- fore, i iw order to obtain sufficient room for his increasing flocks; ‘and°of this he had indeed | lénty, for his nearest neighbor lived ‘about ciety miles from his station. In sich a desért, amidst intérminable forests’ of Aus- tralian gum-trees! thé sole’ resources of his family’ were'in each other. No wonder they looked forward impatiently to the time when their fa- ther, as they hoped, would dispose of ‘his property and ‘returii ‘to’ their fatherlahd, Indeed, most settlers, in whatever part of ‘the’ world their fot 'may be east, cherish the” same hope, ‘especially when they hava brought their wives with them from ‘their native country, Their heart is entwined with the old home, whatever ns te their new oné fier nor can they forget the old connections, the a ia “When they ate bound by family ties, the longing works and gnawé ” ‘att hearts, leaving them no rest tuntil they ean emai for the old ‘ang be loved aateh, : — PD Owes wp -~ te ps. 2 iat oe oe GS ee .. — ee a ae ee THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 9° Thies lougiag becomes almost irresistible when the letters.of friends, ike reminding messengers, knock at the doors of the heart, Pleasure and pain are mingled in the tear that steals down the smiling cheek. Each member of the circle seeks ‘to conceal from. the other what al! would speak, and no one has courage to express... Hach one fears to 4rouse in ‘his»neighbor’s breast. those feelings which torment his own, little suspecting that they are already at work. The silence was first broken by Mrs, Powell. “God be thanked! they are alliwell.and happy, even mother,” she *xelaimed,:trying to. conceal a tear, and: hastily brushing it off as she put her spectacles on the window-sill, near: which she was seated. ‘‘ The dear old woman has written herself; although she complains that her eyesight. ‘is by no means so good as it usedto-be. , You must read the letter presently, John. She: longs so very, very much to see us once more before she dies.” “Well, well, ; who knows ?” said Mr. Powell, with a smile, putting Up one letter and opening another. “ My brother has reached Bombay, is well, and in good circumstances.” “Ts uncle Ernest still.at Quebec?” asked Sarah, “ He promised to come and see us Does he say nothing about it ?” ‘Oh yes, certainly,” her father replied, giving the letter to his daugh- ter: “there, read it yourself. He has left the army, and thinks of being! in Old as 4s by Christmas. That is his shortest way of get- ting here.” “His shortest way ! "! repeated Mrs. Powell, witha low and scarcely suppressed sigh. “It is thousands of miles !” It eortainly is not ‘so. very near,” said Mr. Powell, smiling; “ but what! are distances in these times? You go aboard, make yourself com- fortable, and it is pretty much the: same in the end, whether the voy- age lasts: four ‘weeks or _— months; you are only aortiewhat longer.on your journey.” “How scattered \ we are atiine the world!”’ said Sarah, thoughtfully, with her hands folded over the letter in her lap.“ What: distances separ: ate us from all those who are deur to us !” «“-Oertainly,” replied her father, nodding his head ; “that is the case with:the members of my family in particular.| Of the five brothers, only one lives in Old England. I am‘ here, Ernest is in Canada, Edward at Bombay; anid the fifth is now sailing on board her Majesty’s men-of-wa) — —+God knows: where !—in the Chinese! or! Pacific Ocean. . That; would, indeed, bea joyful day, which should see. us all once//more re-united around one table! There is, however, little chance of that: we ‘shall all be!old and grey before that, time arrives.”’ “| hope the meeting may take place, in England,” said Mrs.:Powell, With’asmile. ‘If some good spirit would assure us of the advent .of ie a. a day of union, I ‘would nee and cheerfully bear with every Her husband’ soi at her/as if, shetitcbot ‘say something. “Jfauch i however, his intention, he suddenly changed his mind, and was soon lost ‘gain in the letter which he had just opened and commenced reading, s* 10 THRE BUSH RANGER; OR, He had scarcely finished it, when he heard the barking of the dogs be fore'the house, and the cracking of the long whips of the bullock-drivers announced the arrival of the waggons. The whole-family, withthe ex: ception of the eldest son, who was in the bush, looking after a few horses: which had strayed, stepped to the door of the house, to welcome the men’ and see what they brought back. “Well, Cole,” said Mr. Powell, addressing the old bullock-driver who had charge of the leading waggon,* how:are you? lam glad to see you at last. I suppose you had bad roads.” “ Thank you, sir!” replied the man,-at the-same! time turning the foremost bullocks, round with a well directed lash of his long and heavy: whip, which heused with both hands. Thus he brought the waggon nicely to the door of the storehouse. I “Oh, woh, Diamond,—woh! Back—that’s right. \ Cursed Beg pardon, sir; very bad roads indeed, and the wood scattered about the Billibong as if they wanted to build stacks of it without end. d suppose you have received’the bag ?” “ All right, Cole.” “The accounts are in it.” “‘T have seen them already. + Wool stands pretty firm.” “And flour too. ll be—I’l]—hem how these rascally dealers go on with their flour. Tisey’]l soon not know what to ask for it.” ‘‘Geatly, gently, my man; take care you don’t burst any of the sacks. That's it; put them down here—the sacks together, and the rest there—in a row, that | may examine them together. The -tea+—. Ah, there are the chests.” + Little danger of our forgetting them,” said the driver, langtiifty, whilst unyoking his cattle, taking care: to leave the unloading of) the goods to other hands. ‘‘ Life in the bush would: be terrible without tea; you might as well be a dingo, or even one of those. beasts of blacks.” His mate had in the mean time, assisted him in unyoking the bul- locks, and Cole, with a half suppressed oath, drove them away, to have their yokes taken off and to be turned loose into the grass. He had scarcely got out of hearing, when: as if to ease his didnt; he commenced by giving the leaders a few sound cracks about the ears with his whip, and then broke out into a tremendous torrent of oaths: All this, however, was nothing more than an ebullition of joy at his re- turn, and also as a compensation for the unusual restraint the presence of his master and the ladies had imposed upon him for a rew moments. He knew very well that Mr. Powell did not allow any of his mento. swear in his presence. Cole was a thoroughly honest, faithful, and trustworthy: servant; the most kindhearted fellow in the world, who would not hurt a child. | Al- though formerly a convict, he had been liberated several years. Sweaty — ing was his passion ; and itis altogether frightful to what extent cursing: | and blaspheming are carried on and have increased among the in the bush. People are aptto faricy that this is one of the chief and most striking vices of sailors, who are but too prone to give vent to theif feelings in this manner. But sailors are surpassed by the “ old dines ‘ You have no idea, sir, ry rt =: @2e & @F STs? Se aS Se = THE HALF-BREED RRIGADE. -all in the bush; indeed, no comparison can be made between the two. . Almost.every word they speak. even the most indifferent, is accompa- Ned by.an.oath, which is but.a friendly and well-meaning locution among them, something equivalent to ‘ How are you, my boy?” Their ‘onstant occupation with the obstinate bullocks may, in some measure, account for this bad practice, is . This is one of the worst evils attending life in the bush, where these men are and remain entirely withdrawn from the. softening influences of female society. The settler has, of course, his family about him ; but the men.have no connexion with the house, as it 1s emphatically _ ‘alled, to distinguish it from the huts. Even the kitchen department is Mtended to by a man ; and as at least nine-tenths of the laborers at. the Mtations, or those who visit them, are liberated convicts, one can easily Understand that their conversation is not of a very refined nature. It nly portrays the harsh destiny of their life; and the “ fine speaking” 18 left.to the.“ swells,” that is, to those who haye a decent, coat upon _ their backs, and do. not belong to the class of “ old hands” or bundle- men.” !' With the assistance of the laborers who happened to be at work near the house, the provisions were at last removed into the storehouse, al- though not immediately locked up, George, the eldest of Mr. Powell’s sons, who had returned at full speed on hearing the cracking of the bul- lock-drivers’ whips, was, as well as his younger brother, engaged an hour weighing out tobacco to the laborers, or distributing various trifles which they had been impatiently expecting for months. .+ The want of tobacco—that comfort of the bush—had been severely felt for the last few. weeks, and the men put off from day to day for the arrival. of the waggons, Their patience was quite exhausted ; they sould scarcely wait to be served, and the yard was soon filled with men, shewing and smoking, and looking as happy as possible. Life was now twice as lightsome ; they had tobacco; and seemed to care for little the house. the letters had been read over and over again, and theix contents fully discussed. George Powell, the eldest son, opened the par- tel of Newspapers, and was soon completely absorbed in the perusal of their contents. His father followed his example ; for, besides the home news describing the state. of affairs, there was intelligence from Ade- laide and Melbourne, treating chiefly of the markets, sales, and auctions, which had immediate reference to their own interests, although only the Material ones. $ newspaper from Melbourne for some time ; “horses fetched as much as-£12. at the last market in Melbourue and Adelaide, I wish we had sent a lot of ours.” ; | (iosjreq 9 ‘ « Pguppose’ you know,” said’ M’Donald, ioe a tribe of aden are er) camped” bythe side ‘of’ the river, scarcely half-an-hour’s: ‘wall: from here 2?” “Tndeed,—no, [ was not aware’of that,” said’ Mr.) Powell, ‘ening, but I could have easily guessed as much.» We shall have their fires quite near this évening, and‘ be’ able to see their carroberies.. Where provisions are; you may depend upon it the~blacks'will not be far-off As the bitds of prey, or wild dog: scents carrion in the forest; so do! these eunning? fellows discover when fresh” -ptovisions'*have» arrived, yatons know very wéll something will fall toitheir share.” «© ino of Ue At this moment there was a knock at the door, and at the sfdeontd “Walk in! the head stock-keeper; Mr. Bale, appearedoat the threshold. After'greeting the family, aswell as the stranger, he -ammounced” that a tribe of the Rufus blacke—the same that had encamped in ‘the’ meigh*! borhoodthé ‘preceeding* year, and had ‘téken ‘half adozen sheep with’ them «when they ee nan ua ot up their gunyoes,’ near'the’ station! bustarbnw teblo aworg Ji nodw onae te 1 .gorrige ofOh! they Hisvongde ote alvendy,? asi M’Donald, apenas: nays must have followed close upon my track.” “Yes, the’ black raseals’soon come when they smell tobaoed or ida,” said the stock- -keeper. ‘‘ Shall we let them come near the wipe. “sir v f think»it' would be as well to keep them at a distance” | (set Of chow many does: theit party: consist?» ee Mrs Powell: cist ‘Not! very muny,”) wad the reply';°““about ten men) and: fifteen’ ‘or? sixteen! women and children, The old cripple is with them too, and moves on gc — - 6 ew oe Ee oe Ce ec ee @® SSeS a> . lr a | — = sy ? Fav AS” GZS s # U3 ges S35. Se a” THE HALF-BRHED BRIGADE. 12 his hands as well as ever. The fellow is tough as untanned skin.” vot The:poor man,” sdid Mrs: Powell, as her:sons:had gone out to have 4 look at the blacks. “ Do not disturb them, John. ‘They ‘will not .stay long, and'I am sure it must.do them good to see human habitations again; and to be allowed to,encamp near them.” “Do not fancy that ma’am,” replied the stock-keeper. ‘The. rascals hate thé white man’s house, as, much as they dothe white man ‘himself. If they happen to find anabandoned hut,:they: ‘will sooner ‘encamp “in the open air than go in ; aye, even when the: tain» is» pouring down’ ain torrents. If they, do go:in for a few moments, it is only to'see whether they can find anything to steal; they turn everything ‘to account. © If I.tadsmy »way—but, no matter-—-— What shall-we do with them, sir?” BiB WOE « ‘ of Let them alone,” said Mr. Powell, good-naturedly ; “if ‘they grow troublesome we can easily get rid of them. Here is’a letter that hae come’ for,you; Mr. Bale,” «continued Mr; Powell,’ going to the table— “two, l,see--and, if you wish! to have a-look at the papers this evening, theyaxe.at your disposal.” of Dhank »you, sir,’ replied the man, taking the letters with apparent indifference, and putting them) into his pocket, after a hasty glance at the-address., But-his:eyes-glistened, and his rough sunburnt countenance which :his)short-beard rather improved than concealed, beamed -with an expression of; pleasure. They were letters from home. Who could have tesisted that charm?) ‘ Wool has risen, sir, I hear,” said he, preparing todeave, j::‘‘and horses, too, are said to fetch a good price. What do you think:of taking a lot down, as soon as the grass gets up a little? What other people do we can do also, and: we need not be ashamed ‘of showing our ;horseflesh: in the Adelaide market.” “‘T have already thought of it myself, Mr. Bale,” answered Mr. Pow- ells: *catrany‘ratey'we shall run no “risk: Perhaps you know, Mr. M‘ Inald, chow: prices stood when you left»Melbourne ?—my information is some hat old,”: : ( , oi Dhey; statid very welbindeed,” r€plied the young man: ‘ at Jéast for; those; he added, witha-smile, * who have horses to sell. ‘The buyers had to give high prices.” rene : _ fi Amexeellent: grey you are'riding,’ sir,” said the stock-keepéer) turn- ing to the stranger. “‘ May I ask what you paid for him? « ] beg your pardon,” » he added, seeing that the guest blushed slightly. «It does Nétunatter;what. he ‘cost, lionly wished to know what you think ‘he is Worth now??? —.' LET i iA , “Twill tell you what Dpaid for him, too,” said’ M’Donald; laughing. “Tithe bush,,and:throughout the settlements, men are always ready to/sell; their! horses, provided they can get a good price for them. But thecquestion, how/much:a horse "has‘cost, is rather a delicate one, and M8 weryoseldon| answered ‘truly, especially when the owner intends ‘sel: id} Lvammovhorse’ dealer,” continued M’Donald,’ ‘and conse {Wently do not wish to make a secret of the price I paid for mine: The. treyrcost me) including saddle-and’ bridle; ‘fifteen’ pounds” WeNot tooumuch, perhaps, for a good: horse,” aaid the stock deepen: Stiwediol oF yaw yar aU ONO HWoe YOR fete aias DUS lev aV * REEL LE LI So ete = THE BUSH RANGER; OB, 4 but, on an average, one canhot: expect more than eight pounds be head.» Was;that the price asked 7” ‘Tt: was the price offered, dnd the seller made no objection.” “I should think not : itas a very good price, but/not'tod miueh: Can he:leap 2?” * «Like a deer, and scaréely requires any water'the whole’ day.” “An excellent horse for the, bush; if I-had a station of my own,’ I i should ask you to let me have it.” ‘“Well, when that takes place we shall perhaps make a bargain,” sad M’Donald, smiling. “The sooner the better,” replied Bale, with a bow, as he left the room. He had scarcely spoken a word to the ladies; only now and then* his hasty glance sought their slender forms in the looking: glass, and he rgemed to blush at his temerity. After Bale had left the room, the cénversation ran for.a little’ while on horses, cattle; the price of wool—in short, the usual biish topics—enough ° to drive a man who takes no interest in these matters to desperation, until the ladiés joined in, and turned it in another channel. Sarah ee, ed..the books, which fulfilled one-of her favorite: wishes. The book hit by the bullet had not received:any material damages it was ‘Lalla Rookh.” The bullet had only penetrated the binding, the tille page, and the firet few leaves of the ‘ Veiled Prophet :” and the now harmless lead dropped out as Sarah opened the volume: M’Donald picked up| the bullet: with a:smile, examined ita moment, and was’ going . to, put it into his pocket; when Sarah placed her hand upon his.arm,and begged it of him asa present, “It belongs to the book” she said, imploringly ;.“‘ the present awn not be complete if I were not allowed to keep’ the bullet.” M’Donald gazed at her Jong and earnestly, and at last the girl gail: ed before his steady look. He seemed unwilling to part with this worth less piece ot lead. But at last he slowly stretched out his hand, gave her the bullet, and said, with a mournful expression ::. Well, take this bullet, Miss'Powell. . It, is, perhaps, better: should give it nety or’ it might again prove dangerous to me.’ “Are you superstitious ?” asked Sarah, taking the bullet and looking at him with a smile. « A little,” replied M’Donald, Lam passionately fond of the chase, j and half'a sailor: and it is, well-known that sailors and hunters:arevall. somewhat superstitious, they may deny it as mitch as they likes: Itiagy - almost.a necessary conseqnerice of their pursuits.” “ But now pray tell us,” asked. Mr. Powell, ‘where: inthe world * you have been, ail this time, and why you did not let; us:hear from’ yout, You,may, believe me when I tell you how anxious:!we::were. about: you,! and.that we were actually afraid some misfortune had. befallen :you::on.: your, way, in fact, that you had met with ill-usage either: fies the: bush- rangers.or the blacks.” «..,, Likes p “Well, 1 scarcely know where.I. have been and. csiliede: not; anawer. ed M’Denald., “My plam .was asyou know, to settle down:somewliore as & squatter and establish my ows home. On my way to Melbourne . THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. a1 I accidently, heard of a magnificent country for cattle farmers, a para:, dise for sheep and cattle—rumors of well-watered _pasture-grounds, which are as common in the bush as in the towns—rumors. of newly discovered coal-mines, which, afterwards turn out to have no, more, solid foundation than the brains of an enthusiast or a swindler, In spite. of, this, and spite/of all my, previous experience in this respect, I allowed myself to be led astray and to follow the false track, and spent a long, tedious, and wretched time in the Malley bush, along with two persons my companions in misfortune, The blacks soon got upon . our. tracks ,. ana, it was only with great aibedity that we at last escaped the doub'e. Janger of starvation and their wooden spears, with which one of my companions received a tolerably severe, although not mortal wound,” tn what part of the country was that!” asked Mr. Powell, who, as a, settler, took a special and very natural interest in this information concerning new pasture grounds. a Sate “® Between the Hindmarsh and the Curon Lake’ replied M’Donald._. _“Lalways thought some good runs would be discovered there,” said Mr,.Powell, starting from his seat. “‘And did you find nothing at all ” ot Oh, yes, plenty of, blacks but.not a drop of water, either for us or our.animals, excepting when we returned to the Hindmarsh to fill our watet bottles and to rest the horses,” crue _ Then, you have not penetrated sufficienfly far inland. I am firmly convinced there must be an old water-course and some good land some- where between these two lakes. I wish I had been with you.” Be thankful you were not,” replied M’Donald, gravely. “I would not, live that time over again,” ee iven up the idea of finding suitable pasture-groundst” msestepsenets seas tenet a — HW] _ pitAnd jhave you given up . Mrs..,Powell asked, with much interest, “‘ or have you come this way for that PURpORE Ry ses pas re Lhat isa more indiscreet question than that of Mr. Bale with. tre- ference to. the price of the horse,” said Mr. Powell, laughing.‘ You know, my dear child, that a new settler keeps nothing in the, world. so secret,as the direction in which he, intends to. look out for, pasture , De Vrodi he ee ea wee Nes, toward, any. other settler,” said M’Donald, offering the old. gen- tleman, his hand, which the latter shook cordially, << Butte you 1 can, say that it ismy intention to look out for pasture-grounds somewhere. about the Murray, althongh the best places are already occupied.” |. “JT assure you that there is nobody I should prefer having for my. neighbor to you,” replied Mr. Powell...‘ It only to Neauendy happens tiasivreiet salam o's en .Ameng, fie seitiery 3 (oue NegAbORPRE who. are a OR Ae bela us in education, Bes eTah an good, beater, ' that, with the best intentions, we cannot possibly associate with them, , sorch Seas void occasional intercourse. Nothing would oa ‘ 4 fore be more Syne to us, and tend so much te improve our, position. fore rhe omy ae eae nd th gt lok, ont “ F ee re of room they (Rave a1 : as to force. 0! Sere Oe ERNE gy i ie ae cz. Seatter as soon Shave reach ne ee — ” oe BUSH KARATE OR, ° Come let us drink to our gag fellowship, Mr. M’Donald,” he added, as Sarah who at a signal from her mother, had gone away, returned with a bottle of sherry and a few glasses, ‘which Mr. Powell filled and offered one to his guest. ‘With all my heart !”” replied: the young man ‘with @ deep sigh, and eth tied his glass. be: Joud “ Coo-eeh the usual call of the blacks, whiele ian ot ‘the whites inldnd have ai appropriated—was héatd outside’ ~~ © “ONW! there aré out black guests already,” said Mr. Powell, laughing. “« T'was cértain they “would not be léng before they ‘availed selves of the ‘permission to come to the station. On the whole, the} nevér cor mit. any” mischief, exdept in departing’; as long as’ they’ temain’ at the station, they are very careful hot to touch property’ which’ is not’ * theirs.” ““ By doing so at their departure, it seems to me they expose themselves to a somewhat rough reception if they visit the place again," ‘said’ M” Donald: ve They néver think of that,” rétirtad ‘Mi. “Powell. ‘Nevetthele 83) they have ‘among theéniselves some sort~of a moral code of laws, how: ever light their principles may be. But, from what I have seen’ ‘of them during the course of a long experience, | should be ittelined to believe they have among themselves a sort of right of prescraption respecting’. tty, or even more serious ‘misdemeanors, in’ virtue ‘of. which an. aeiabaled occurrence is not spoken of after the lapse of a ‘certain num- ber of months. Thus, I have known several cases in which “blacks, after having murdered a white man, suddenly disappeared, and all endédvors to discover their whereabouts proved unavailing. ‘After the lapse’ of six’! months they turned up, perfectly unconcerned—in fact, . ran ‘into the hands of the police, as. if they had had ‘nothing to do whatever with bloodshed and murder. Some of them have thus voluntarily, 6r‘rather uliéonsciously, surrendered into the ‘hands of offended laws, and, ‘when first examined, seemed to be YOY, indignant’ that, an t @ffait ater. wate wioons” old should be stitred up.” “This would certainly give mea key to many’ transactions of atheitis observed M’Donald, “ But will you not come and see them? To’ tell wor é truth, it' occurred to me to-day, as 1 rode past ‘the tribe, i ey: t not persuade two or three of ‘these fellows to. ‘accompany’ ne & bash} to look out for catile-runs.” ~ ” “I should riot advise ‘you to Have “nything’ to do with ‘thes ; Powell'teriarked, seriously. ” as *” Por God's sake, do’ not’ ttust them ” exclaimed Mis, Powell! * ate’ all) 8 “the best of them, treacherous ; atid depend tpon'it’ in' spite of obligations you may have conferred: a any one of then,’ t ‘not be'safe for you, when you are alone, to stand with your” ested towards him. ~ If he has his club in his hands, he’ Gannot “reuist® Me if the temptation of mindering y eas ne ore ont ‘ed g16t “There is certainly a great ¢ ' Mi’ Pow. eltobserved.”: “In 'the ‘district | a ‘than iow © where 1 Soe sheep Tap aegnen _ ae ee O08 UH 19S fwe2-a => on Oo KA ema) os THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 28 He was-a very great friend of the blacks, and,always haa about:him:a black lad; of sixteén years of age, whose life he had saved when a mere child; and, indeed, this lad showed much more attachment to him than [had ever seen exhibited) by/a black. Once ‘they were together in the woodcutting down a tree... Suddenly the black carne running to the'sta- tion alone, and with a bloody axe in his hand, wailing and lamenting, and, with the most unfeigned signs of repentance and grief, accused: him- self! of, having murdered) ‘his master. According to-his- own evidence, hée-had: not, while standing near him with his axe in his hands, b¢en able-to resist the temptation of striking him as he turned his back: The blow, | produced instant.death ;\,and the, black. was at first quite beside himself-with: the idea that he had killed his benefactor... They were going: to imprison him for his deed, but he found means to escape, and Was never seen again.in those. parts.” ‘ “These areisolated cases” replied M’Donald..'‘ I know, on the other hand,.instances of | blacks,proving honest and faithful, fora short period at least 3. whether it would) be advisable to trust) them in the Jong run, L really cannot: tell.: But do not be uneasy on my account, Were I to take a black with me into;the bush, I should choose my man, and mind to make it his interest to remain faithfulto-me.” w nod “ Tf/you can do‘that, you are safe,” said Mr. Powell,:laughitg, ‘put- ting on his sttaw hat... ‘Now, if you have no objection, we will go over to the-blacks, who are already putting up their gunyoes and lighting their fires, ifl-am not:mistaken. We shall be back by dinner-time.” Taking his«gueet by the arm, Mr,. Powell led: him across the open space-before»thehouse, and went: in the: direction of a copse adjoining the outer buildings, whence the»hacking of the tomahawks and the wild yélping of dogs announced the presence of! the blacks. vale ° id oy trot Susi notr’od CHARDBR lll weet cenou- at’? pobvTE BLACKS. oT rt 46 try 4 ~hd tie i _ tiea { “ a 9a6F ‘Ar! the’ distance” of scarcely four hundred’ pacés from’ Mr.’ Powell's homestead; nthe banks of the Murray, the bush*commenced. Latge guth-trees, standing alone, were scattered about, as in a park’: the ground was trodden down sufficiently to allow no’ grass to grows whilst here \ and’ there’ alow under woot! called the tea’ bush”for’ what réas6n re- yasformied’ of ‘stiff and'broomy shrubs, grew tp’ in’ small tafe?’ The “height of the tree would of itself have shown the proximity of water, even had the merry and metal ‘like ‘‘ ting-ting” of the re- markable ‘little ‘bell-bird; whose’ presence is always the surest indication of water, not béen heard among the’ branches, ra 1 Hed ‘Close'to this ‘somewhat narrow line’ of woods, stretching out in the diréction of the Malley hills, ‘was a low, sandy, and almost bate éleva- tion; ‘which formed the western limit of the station. Under this, atid shelterad by the gum-trees, the above mentioned tribe were busily en = = SSS = ——— =r — ———— a a Ot | THE BUSH RANGER: ‘OR. gaged stripping the bark oft the thick trunks of the trees,: and gepttias - itup’to shelter themselves: © : c »The two» gentlemen ‘had about vanernen of the deine ‘still to “ao- complish, when a pack ‘of dogs, that looked’ more ' likevliving skeletons than anything’ else, rushed at them from -the bushés, »barking: furiously: and°filling the forest ‘with their wolflike' howls, These ‘dogs’ belonged to the blacks; and it would’ certainly ‘have been ‘itnpossible to have brought together i in any part of; the world a°more® motley set of! worth less, half-starved, mangy, bare-boned ‘eurs.” It was # problem ‘How ‘they cold live at all; \the blacks scarcely found ‘food enough ‘for theniselvves and their farnilies: in’ the forests dendPiviie! began’! to ‘be extremely scarce in this part»of the bush ;»and if ‘the half-starved animals didnot now and then succeed in surprising a dingo or a wild dog; the’ very'skin, and coat of which they demolished, they would ‘have ‘had no other: re- source but to do as their masters didin'time/of need++thatis,’ 7 single out one from among their fellows, and kill and ‘devour himi* 900“ The dogs ‘are useful to the blacks, inasmych ‘as they-assist aise in hunting ‘the opossum, the walloby, and sométimes'a kangarooy of ! which they may, perhaps, get the entrails,’ Wihen ‘this fails} they have] ‘like their masters, to dig) their ‘food out of the beg one make’ a! repast: upon worms and grubs, or live'on ait.) 1 id ti odes « Mr. Powell and his companion stood still, wd lis ised arstick, to defend: themselves against any attack from ‘these. animals; while the’ former looked round: for “his own’ dogs. |: ‘George, who ‘had again ridden down the’ river, had \takenthem ‘with him. .'The* blacks quickly per- ceived their white visitors ; besides, they knew the ‘master: Tarski ee tion, and suddenly. as if rising out! of the ground, ‘five: ‘br six-younig:lads appeared in the: midst of the dogs, throwing at:them. their! ‘boomerangs, or pieces of wood. they snatched» up, with such success, that the-howl- ing troop scattered in all directions, with their tails between their legs, leaving the passage free for the white-men. Although the blacks had been but a very short time in their present station, their camp was already put up. Phe men had torn the bark off the nearest gum-trees in large “haste by the aid of the small hatch- ets with which some of themwere provided. The women dragged these sheets of bark to the place selected, put three or four of them on the, windward side, .in} such, a, manner that:they\terminated in point Against this point, somewhat inclined, a pole, eee waized in.an puliane direction,,60 as to, form a sort of beafh-andoonmnp: and house, were completed, .. opine | 14 ioe si a Shoots, of bark, itis, true, only ped Sh ua gin of the mid-day sun. .. The bare ‘paths seldom, governs ited opossum cloak, served as bed, 1 inroads of wind and weather) upon’ one, sides, andthe; iurenigatar - with, ae But little did the hardy children of hee draclate ssnshortste caning tomed as they are to face wind and. weather, care about, this. .So.that they had wherewith to fill their bellies, of whatever,natura, the, food might be, lata were Pulao and ee re + oe the Tesh, nisiaow ort wil Hoidw in y ; ; peters ath od tant fer THE FFALF- BREED “BRIGADE. ot 25 ‘> Ae ‘soon as they had driven their dogs away fromthe owner-of. the station, they took ‘no further notice of him.’ “They had been allowed’te ~ piteh:their camp, here ‘and the’ rest followed as a matter of course. *Moreover, they had: still plenty:to «do to'put their night quarters in or- der; and as soon as the sheets of bark were duly arranged, fires were ‘lighted’ before’ each separate guiyo, apparently for the purpose of -pre- ‘paring their:meals,: although. 'with the exception of a walloby and twe opossums, no provisions’ were to be seen. Phe Australian forest or “ bush” is a melancholy home for the black, and furnishes him with little besides firewood and’ bark ‘to’ protect *him- ‘self against:the inclemency of the weather. It scarcely produces “any wild fruits. The' few productions ‘which, in shape *or color, resemble fruit, are not fit to eat; for they are either’as hard as wood, and’ quite | as dry, or woolly and insipid. To the first sort belongs the ‘Australian ) pear; to the:second the raspberry. The Australian cherry, which has _ its stone outside, at the upper extremity, is also a small insipid, and ‘en- : tirely:worthless berry. This last completely exhausts the bush fruits of | the:southernvhalf of Australia, The natives are naturally: reduced’ ‘to : make up inthe world of insects what the forest denies’ them’ iii ‘fruit, : and Jarve and) beetles, worms, grubs and ‘caterpillars are néver safe against 'their/hunger.» ‘Al species of accacia'fumishes 'them also ‘with a nutritious resin, which is chiefly gathered bythe women, who’ carry’ it |» with them im nets. In addition to this, their chief staple of food consists of a species of ice-plant, furnished with small’ triangular and fleshy ‘leaves, something like a file, and it preserves its sappy stalk even during - | ithe season of great drought. Here and there; in; marshy ‘places, “other ; ‘roots)and cabbage-like plants are found, which comes in their way; and the gum-trees'would be:much barer, and present'a more desolate appear- - | ance; if their leaves were not) protected by a sharp, oily taste’ from: the »voracity of either man or brute: : wanibn These gunyoes, or tents of bark, were apparently. erected ‘under the { trees without any regard to-order. Their roofs all pointed in ‘the direc: tion from which the wind blew. Only one seemed to be raised» more carefully than’ the test: Its roef was:somewhat lower, quite ‘circular, witha small opening in “front... This gunyo: was ‘separated from: the others; and the dogs'seemed to.stand in special awe of it; describing a widé:circle: when‘they passed near it. He o hageoas ~ ln this rgunyo lived-oneof the most remarkable beings to be found among the native tribes. | He wasia cripple; reduced to this state by a strange:disease, peculiar tothe Australian continent» The: flesh of the “arms and:legss-usuallyoof one arm or one leg+disappears. from’ under ‘the:skin; giving the diseased limb the appearance of a skeleton covered with Indian rubber’ This disease might be called a negative elephan tiasis, so oppos:te are its effects, yet so singular its causes, seh fires The latter is. prevalent. amongst the inhabitants. of the/South Sea Islands, the origin of both being ascribed to lying upon the damp ground Itis, however, strange that the same cause should produce such different tesults.in two couutries not -far distant from each other, or-at ‘least ‘washed by the same:sea ; in the one, a swelling of the legs and) arms SS ee Soo 3a &@eo \ * aXe "ae aw ¢ 7% 26 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, ato the thickuess oi the hedy whereby, the skin is sdietbien like that of a drum; imtheother, the,entire disappearance of the flesh, accompan- ied. with,a drying up of the muscles and) .sinews, . whilst the ebonnibin skin closely. and. firmly, adheres, to the, bones. . The blacks. attribute this, to supernatural agencies, and toievil piste, prowling about,in, the silence of the night, and, with greedy lips sucking the blood of the unfortunate whose fite has gone out.» If but one» limb, either arm or leg, is attacked, as.is usually the, case; the: patient on whom the/evil spirit.is supposed to exercise his. power, goes through life; pretty smoothly, and does not seem to:care any more,about. the accident than shi neighbor’ of the South Sea of legs swollen almost to bursting. _ Butithe black, belonging to;this tribe was visited, more. severely than common, and had been deprived by the evil spirit of the use of both his _ degs.,;., He could neither walk nor stand... Although the. upper: part» of his body,\as far as the,hip-bone was perfectly.,sound, and. even seemed to be, strong and; powerful, ; with a broad, arched chest, and. muscular arms, bis legs were shrunk like those of a skeleton. He: was»forced::to move upon: his hands, which he did withont much apparent. difficulty, ' placing his legs crosswise,over each other. During long marches, | his tribe. assisted, him» by carrying -him, when. the ground permitted, ona sheet of bark, which, being drawn by the woman, —o aided bre progress. Cripples, especially the blind,:do not by any means stand: in ih es- timation amongst the blacis,, This indeed is'sufficiently shown: by) the whole tenor of; their : political life, in consequence of which the. oldest and strongest menare selected for chieftains and rulers, whilst the others are required to pay them unconditional obedience. In. the case of this unfortunate man, however, who even seemed deprived.of the power ‘of providing his subsistance, circumstances were greatly different; the tribe not only showed him the utmost consideration and attention, but almost considered him as a being of a higher sott—at least, as one who stood inelosé relationship with»the»spirits.) He certainly possessed: uncommon abilities. His tribte came but rare- Jy in, contact, with white men, yet: he had:learned \enough of theirs lan- guage to speak it well, and even fluently... Whether for this reason, or on account of his intercourse with the: spirits:of| the night, with whom. according to the natives, he was’ in constant communion, and;whose:will he made known to his tribe, he hadsreceivel the namevof Neuyulloman 1. @. thelinterprerers with the title:of honor, Burka, the.old: mani: No booty was brought; to the camp; no fat kangaroo, no: plump Opossum, no ball of: resin, or net) of snow-white grubs, of: which her:did not: receive his share, as/a tribute to’ which he was amibehiae a mark of aan and duty. Nguyulloman seemed to receive these attentions as a matter of course, and even exacted respect from his tribe... They were not allowed re stir, when, at night, under his solitary roof of bark, his deep hollow voice was _ sometimes heard chanting his incantations in the darkness: of: the: forest. Nothing:but the noise» of the howling ‘of the dogs was then heard, ex- tept-his voice. They feared the cripple, who, whenever they approach aacewéte a SS ee eee eee, Se ee ee oo eo ee ct THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. an ed within reach of his hut, threw stones and pieces of wood at them with*uferring aim.” Dismally did*Nguyulloman’s * ‘adjuyations resouiid, as they mingled: with the howl of the affiighted atimals.’ The whole tribe“would then await in anxious expectation the ‘conéltision of his chant. No child durst cry; and only here and there some" womai-might be'seen creeping ‘timidly and carefully to the fire with’ wood; that the flame ‘might niot be extinguished.’ Should thathappen, the @readful"No- KUnno? Who ‘wanders about at night/arid attacks! the unfortutidtes whose fies’ are extinguished, would have-had*themi in‘hispower!§ ®& /8 See's : Neuyulloman Wis sitting before his shed; on an opossum ‘clodk spread for him, and attentively watching the operations of some children ofthe tribe who were’ busily engaged collecting dry wood and placiiig it*within his’réach, that he might feed his firé himself.” ‘After dak) no ‘one durst approach his hut unless summoned’ by him. mie 19d The two white men walked to this place, where some’ of the’ burkas” or old’ men, assembled as soon as they noticed theit approach; and were now qitite safe fiom tle dogs) >” uni8 bevinozs 5 av "Well, Nguyulloman,” said Mr. Powell; who’ knew the’ éripple well; and ‘had showii him many a kindness;'“ you arevhete again; I’sée! “HOw have you' been all this long ‘time ?” nY YIuidd 3 “* Good, master,” answered the black. His pronunciation was rématk- ably pure. Indeed, all the Australian natives excel in their fide per. éeption of foreign sounds. In'this respect they*differ from thé African négro, They pronounce the ‘foreign words “which they ‘vémember as pooh and ‘distinctly as if they had been brought up’ from their’ child: jod’ in the country where the language is spoken. ‘* A’'‘thousand’ good, but tribe’ is“ poor,—has no more karigatoo,;’ nd more emu! white men have driven all away ;/and much war with Darling blacks} cruel’ blacks —have taken much butter. Poor Rufus blacks ate badly off?" \/°* “But in the malley-bush there are still plenty of kangaroos, Nguyul- loman; ‘and in the Murray’ plenty of fish'and lobsters.” ‘Opossums ‘are tobe found everywhere ; and wild’ dogs, which you'like sb much, are)’ J am sorry to say, but too plentiful.” : LOW, OYhGtse gi « Where are they ?” answered the cripple, shrugging his shouliéts. “Your large kangaroo dogs drive them far’ awsy into the biisH.' Black man cannot find them,+lives on ‘pig’s face and ‘worms, aid suffers fro Hungper—a thousand hunger”? “°'- I .noiovlieg eis al 00, @id-a9n oe Well,” said’ Mr. Powell;'in'a kind’tone;’ “Nguyullomian' shall” at least not suffer from hunger to-day. T-have ‘allowed ‘youi'te ‘ettcamp on the station; and I hope that, during the short time you are’heré) You will behave well. Pknow Nguyulloman can force his ‘tribe t6dd'so, for he has pow over them.” 1 918 VOY TL eh Waorh."’ onan ont, jo Byan ‘A passing and scarcely perceptible smile ‘stole over thé cripple’s” fea tures as, without raising his head, he looked at the white miaii' fromm’ be: neath his bushy eyebrows. ‘At Jast he said, slowly'?°* §°" (1G. 2. *°* Ngnytlloman shall not suffer hunger” °° >” old wk deeslaphe “ No, for I will tell my stock-keeper to, mind that Jolt ‘xédelyw ‘thie shee Li and as ma dampers” ih tah perro ‘ lato i vo, OM i oT ““ Butsheri {Waid Nguyulloman, with ‘evident satisfaction” abe apen” Ve AE Oia | [HE BUSH RANGER; OR, ling eyes, shaking his head in a satisfied manner; “ butsheri!.no,speay shall, be thrown by us at your cattle. |My young men shall eat neither thy cattle nor, thy horses. . Nguyulloman is waiting for the dampers”, _M’Donald Jaughed.....; | bifdo ot suede of The, old fellow sperks.in .a very..decided manner,” he-said,,‘‘ and seems to think of his. comfort before: anything else... .Indeed,' this -halt skeleton.is,a frightful, sight....The .wpper, part, man, in full force, and vi. gor—half a giant,to all appearance—-and ‘below a-disgusting, carcass, covered with skin. He appears. just like) a man peeping out. of : his grave! oi: St hitman ile tie iy Dieta ‘¢ His chest, and;arms are particularly powerful,”, replied Mr.Powell.; ‘and it,is easily accounted for by: his; having for so, many,years moved by their aid alone. Indeed, I never saw a more powertul or beautifully formed bust;than.his.”...\., Bodlevw Pins edt ..! Bless me. ! who.is that?’ cried M’Donald,.as he cast his looks: at the other natives, and perceived among them the form of a black, entirely naked, .who. stood, at. about. ten, paces from them, leaning jon his long wooden. spear, as if he were cut out:of dark .marble...,; He seemed. to/be about thirty years of age: his body was, faultless; the structure, of. his limbs,strong and well proportioned—his /hand..and foot eyen, small) and neat,.whilst, his. eyes looked like two burning coals from. under his, silky, curly, rayen hair... The,.most..remarkable feature, about, him,was ‘his beard. .It,not only descended, to his chest, but completely covered. his ueck,, shoulders, aud the. upper.part.of his back. Thick asjivy grows upon, a wall, this curly beard seemed to! have crept over his shoulders, upon which it lay like.a glossy cloak of fur. Such beards, although not extremely, rare among the Australian, blacks, are nevertheless not, fre- quently met with in that State, They cover the whole,of the neck and shoulders like a, regular fur, mantle, and. give the wearer a peculiarly wild but picturesque appearance. | Whether it was that the black was, aware of the impression he had produced, he fastened. his dark eye upon the strange white man, who, on his part, looked at hirn with astonish- TM or carted pra Re ta aaa Siiera oieahY “A fine specimen of an, Australian black,” said Mr, Powell, who ‘had followed: the look and outstretched arm of his guest; ‘and these two men—the one in his perfection, the other in, his infirmity-—peculiar, to this country, might be considered, as excellent representatives of the tribes,, auognale of these black Eves.added to the group, would maka it, com late, woy ait roma thi t , { ys .f gia s cit Kakurru » eried Me’Donald,. without, answering, and in, the; lan- uage of the natives. “ How is it you aré here, among the Rufus black ¢ veer ee the wild marshes of Encounter Bay, and made peace with your, old es f otidw edit ra bexvlool ed baod aid auizter dvodtiyrya ‘¢ rye! “ Kakurru has seen the -eyes.of the white man, and heard his voige,” —_— the black, “ but his face, has become a stranger to him;. it has port like the mogmy’ siti o7 yadoag-sooja yar fer iw Lat off & SE. ite Weed cried Mr. Pow hy xm where is world did you learn, the language, of this black fellow so well! Why, you speak it as fluently as a native!” Zi. ‘HE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. F 28 * Partly from a long residence among them, and partly from a natura) ; pacity forthe acquirement, of anguages,”: said M’Donaldy smiling. ‘ cae all; their language‘is) not difficult ; and, with; # Jittlé attention, Me one caw easily learn enough of it to: make-oie’s self understoodl:::0But it , our countrymen, Iam sorry :to-say, give themselves very» little trouble:to | acquire this knowledge ; and the result is thatothe blacks;: considered so ‘far below us intellectually, almost-always'shame ‘us; and ‘dae much Hd more of our language than ‘we do of ‘theirs’. «, _‘* You are right, certainly ; but what are we to do with. their jargon ? Itiis'to the: interest: of ‘the blacks to understand ‘us|; mtich more 80," in- deed.:than it it ours to make ourselves| acqdainted, with their language f they. therefore, naturally enough, take the trouble. At any rare, \they cat:learn raore of us’than werof' them.: But do you know. this: fellow 2” o Wes 3, Lonce fell in:with:him at; Encounter Bay, and even rendered him a service, I think. But he does not seem to recognise | me. Then, A wore no beard.” «During this Wa vertiation, Rikeirs had nat taken his eyes -off the HI stranger, who had addressed him in his owndanguage, fora single :mo- i ment»; ‘and/evern thé-other blacks looked at himt with: astonishment.’ He was theofirst ;white man:they had’ heard apedking: the languege a one of) their! tribes’ fluently. io Make a:light, poor lubra, ngarang ddmier 4 ” said a voice by daa side, Looking to the place whence’ the sound proceeded; they. saw one of the most horrible beings of these tribes—the greatest monstrosity of repulsive» hideousness that human’ imagination eould possibly. fancy. Thisicreature wasa woman. Of what age, could;not. be ascertained ; dirt and wrinkles disformed and concealed her features. | Not the least bit'of a» garment concealed her nakedness,;;her, hair, hung entangled over the bony shoulders, and her bleared eyes gleamed,.as much: cwith rdge.and hatred against the white as:they besought compassion, '« “This would be another specimen for your Australian, menagery.’ said M’Donald, turning away from the old woman with disgusts - *Tt:is| frightfuly,when we:consider how jdeep man can sinks and what would our philosophers and orthodox persons say, if they had: to elass this pictasié.« of déformity among the lords of the creation!’ ») # Come. away,” said Mr. Powell suddenly; ‘I shall. get sick if [look _ any longer. at this hideous. object. . One would scarcely believe it possi- _jble fora:human, creature: to, sink to such: 4 state af complete aor fiom”) u 10h will give you something,”’ said M’Donald, adit tothe woman. uiet) her, Casting his eyes once more, on the bearded black; who a canee motionless at; his place, without taking his, oe ithe -white many he rétiirned with Mr. Powell towards.the house. 0» A o(They had: scarcely taken a dozen ‘paces, when) Kakurru, nih his Hi spear in his;right hand, ‘slowlyand carefully followed them. He kept hi -hisieye:upon! the tracks which the young, man, had jleft in the dry elay and shad, until he came to: a place, where they were imprinted clearly .andidistinctly. . Here he stood) still, stooped down a few minutes to! ex- atin them seo Fhondny da them with mee eg Prt ‘laying in 30 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, knuckles ‘on them in a» peculiar manner,’ and suddenly, started up» with a emile of triumph, upon his features, and rushed after the whitemen, whom he overtook! in a fewbounds. ‘M’Donald , hoaring |the, steps «be- hind! him, ‘turned -round »quickly. As he) saw pares: jetlteds aed said: to!him, with a‘smlle, off Well; my friend, what do you want?” i ‘« Jack ” replied the black,:stretching out his' left-hand omatie him “Jack certainly !” “ Well; well,” ‘said M’Donald,as a slight blush spread: over his coun: tenanee,» “it: appears my beard» ‘has, after all, not concealed, aby. face from you,” Beard yes,’but feet no,” answered the» black, smiling, ashe nail to:the ‘tracks: “When Kakurru has seen:them once, he never Hirgets tieeh.”” srr , i “ What does he say ?” asked Mr. Powell, perplexed. 1 He srecognized me by: my foot pele replied MDonald, ‘s "One would pera deem it: possible.” ; 1 Ohyvyes > replied: Mr. | Powellj, “it is astonishing: how cate blacks are‘ at' this; | and, indeed, they sooner notice the tracksiof’a man than his features. But their continual wars render it absolutely neves- sary for them, when they: find tracks, to’ be able :to distinguish: those of their’ fr'ends' ftora’ those oftheir foes. He seems to havea |wish to speak to you?” E shallsee you'soon, 'Kakurru,” said M’Donald, without rained to Mr.iPowell’s obstrvdtion; ste his walk roast ek “ae aye furth- er'notice of ‘the black.’ » Meantime everything’ was astir in the camp of the matiyen, ‘The women gathered) wood, as if they were going to entrench themselves against.the attack of a hostile: tribe, whilst: the men reclined upon. ‘the ground awaiting what was'to come. The sheep had been ‘promised, and must come ; and. come: thi did, but notquite so comfortably as they had imagined. \ Half an‘ hour might have elapsed, when Mr. Bale, the stock-keeper, :rode up to their camp, and in frightful jargon of English and Australian, claiming no telationship whatever to any language, requested half a dozem men to go-with him ‘to the house to receive the destined presants.: ‘Some of the blavks seemed ‘inclined to send the women,sas they considered such occupation beneath their dignity. But Nguyulloman desided the case. Heewas hungry; and was afraid’ the women would be too’long about it. He therefore ordered: threw of the young men and four women to do;Mr. Bale’s: bidding, and to bring the promised provisions to'thé camp as soon as possible.» » This was done: after‘a short delays: The :youngsmensre- turned in ten:2nimutes, with wild and triumphant bounds, each carrying a sheep upon his shoulders, ‘The ‘women followed, ‘somewhat : “more slowly, with the dampers ; ‘and they at once slaughtered the: animals, in which teas they! showed: great; skill. In the:first place, Nguyulloman. received all:the didueys.is He threw them upon the'chatcoal, andy devoured them; with half a damper, be- fore the rest had done skinning and cutting up the animals. This first THE FALE BETED BRIGADE. st meal did not prevent him from despatching, afterwards, twice a8 | much meat'as any of the rest, : ‘It is ‘abtonishing what quantities of food a black will matiage to ¥wal- low ‘at one silting « ; you éan actually see their bellies swelling like well- filled scaks, ‘But afterwards they will fast just as long, and, to keép the rebellious stomach in order, they tighten their hempen or bast rope, which they frequently wear about their bare bodies, thus making it serve as a hunger belt. The meat and the rest of the provisions were divided by the “ burkas,” or old men, into shares fox the different classes, according to age and sex. No nation on the face of the globe possesses so many and such strict laws on this subject as the natives of every part of Australia. Certain articles of food, certain parts of animals or fish, are only eaten by particular members of the community, and are forbidden to°the test. varied reasons being assigned for this strange custom. Transgréssors ‘of thése rulés are supposed to grow’ weak and old before theif tinie} ‘their inuseles and ‘sinews ‘aré said to lose their strength, and they dre ‘expos: ed ‘to attacks of mortal disease. Age generally forms’ the boundary- line} bat riot always. ‘There is this characteristic, thatthe “ burkas,” or chiefs, who’ made these laws, are alone allowed toeat of everything; and have, of course, reserved for themselves the best pieces. ‘These law are very strictly enforced, and, Jor the most part, by meuns of supersti: tious threats. When ‘all wis settled, and the meat ready, these reckless children of the wildertiess gave themsélves’ up to the enjoyment of the méal as greedily as if a similar repast had been promised them every day.’ They troubled ‘themselves very little for the rer; allowing each bay to. take care’ of itself, ’ ‘The’ dogs ‘also regaled themselves, probably'the ‘first Sipottinity Yer so doing that “had presented itself for a ‘long time. "They then'threw thétiselves ‘down on their'backs by the fires. Nguyulloman had’ already’ set the example, and towards evening nothing was visible but ‘the dark forms of the women, heaping up wood near the gunyoes, to Beep the’ fires alight during the night. “We shall have time,” said’ Mr, Powell’ to M’Donild, ase! diner “ to'take a short ride before the evelling sets in, | wish ‘to ‘go over to my next sheep station, in order to settle some small matters.” Ifyou will accompany me, we can take the dogs, ‘and may perhaps, start a dingo on our return.” “ With all my ‘heart ; but I'am’ afraid my horse is rather titea to- day.” von, ‘he must rest, of course. ‘Thete are plenty of lorses in the pia: dock ’ atid | you can ride one of mine. You ‘will, at the same time, see more of the bush i in this part, and I can also show you a fine flock of shee i ‘do We start ” = bigs “At once. “I felt’ pretty certain gf your assent’ to ite Bota wha ordered ‘the horses to be got ready before dinner. My” mani is wate sat us with the animals.” THR BUSH RANGER; OR, The friends went to the spot at which the -horses stood. inpatients champing their bits, and quickly vaulted into the saddle. - Mr. Powel: summoned his dogs by. shrill whistle, and a few minutes afterwards they were riding at full speed towards the pathless bush, followed by their barking and’ yelling dogs. CHAPTER IV. t THE BUSH, THE newly-arrived immigrant in the United States of North America is frequently tantalzed with the “ far west,” which he seeks to reach by railway, steamer, or on horseback, still following the sun. The farther west he goes, the more the ‘ far west” seems to retire before him ; and this ig the case even in the endless forests west of the Mississippi. In the marshes, where no trace is seen but that) of the hunter and the game he.is pursuing, he still says he is going to the west, because bears are getting scarce, and buffaloes may be classed among the natural cu- riosities of the locality. Exactly the same kind of thing happens to the newly arrived stranger in the Australian bush, although he need not go so far in search of it. The inhabitants of Sydney, or of one of the other seaports, are apt to denominate whatever is situated beyond the precincts of their town- ships as bush. . But the traveller soon discovers, as he journeys onward, that it lies farther off; and at the stations in the wildest.parts of the - interior, the squatters do not, consider whatever is within the precinets - of their fences or roads—that is to say, cart-tracks—to be bush. Be- yond that boundary, at least, they cannot deny that it exists, There, indeed, commences, that dreary solitude of sand and malley-bushes, prickly.grass, and salt bush, and whatever may be the names of the monstrocities of Australian vegetation, pit 3 Vast, fearfully vast and , endless, distances stretch out in hills and plains ;, but without the pleasant and definite character usually impart- ed.to;a conntry by undulating scenery. Not a drop of water. flowe through these, wastes ; no clear brook bubbles along the. valleys, offer- ing to the hunter or wanderer a fixed and definite course which he can follow.as a guide out of these wastes, As the waves of the sea, to which the word of the Almighty has assigned their place, spread out in all directions, so, for hundreds of miles, do the malley-bushes. extend over desert salt tracts, upon which even the native blacks dare not ven-_ ture. aw of his sight ; and no water is to be found to save the exhausted wander: er fiom,a miserable death... With camels it might, perhaps, be possible to,penetrate for some distance into this desert ; but, under existing cir- cumstances, the attempt would be useless, and such experiments have already led to the sacrifice of many lives. If some habitable-oasis does on 2. 2 a rsaFzo 8 Heat, and a fine, salt, sandy dust, threaten to deprive the trave ler oe.tse oe a Se A te Aa Ee a de ee i el i i il te THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. se exist im the interior, it could scarcely be turned to any. account, even. if ence geached., It; must certainly be unfit for cultivation, The hot wind Which blows from, the interior is sufficient. to burn up all vegetiation/of the: distant, colonies, over which it passes with its withering breath; and much Jess could its process gocn under its: influence, in ‘spite ofi any amount .of|Jabor or any sacrifice. The want of water is.another evil.» Even in the wooded and: moun: tainous parts(of, Australia, in. the Blue Mountains, and other excellent Woodlands, water is scarce. That obtained from most of the wells dug by. theyhand of man has a.salt taste, . Can: there bée-any ground: to hope hat it would be better in those deserts of salt and sand, where any one does not even meet with the ded of a river, which might be received as an indication that a source once sent its waters from those solitudes of the sea? The Australian settlers, therefore, establish their stations in ‘thé mal- ley-bush,, always, keeping. in, the neighborhood of the Murray. river, to provide, against, the, scarcity of water. They drive their Hocks into the malleyrbushes in search of; grass, which. grows there very thinly, it is true, but, sweet—the,, wild oats, and particularly the salt-bush, which flourishes in the plains, and suits, the sheep so well. . The shepherd’s hut was situated in the bush, near a small creek, in which water collected during the rainy season, but the bed ‘of ‘which was empty, and exhibited the. dry and.cracked clay/soil.. The hut was a plain,structure, raised on, the trunks of young firs, the walls and ‘roofs being. formed. of broad sheets of gum-bark. . It. wasseatcely provided _ With more comforts than the gunyo of the black. In the ‘corner stood a bed of .sheep-skins, over which.an opossum clock was.thrown. - The kitchen, utensils consisted of a few tin-pots:and one iron panyii-Some!ar- licles of wearing.apparel. and. agum hung on some: pegs /fixed .to the posts, indicdted.that this was.a dwelling-place belonging to white men. eon the front ofthe hut, in the shade of \a fine .malley-fir+ probably left. for this, purpose+-a man reclined ; it was the so-called.“ hut«keeper,” & personage subordinate to the shepherd, whose duty itis te.watch :du- Nng the night over the sheep in the. yard, and who, in the day-time; has Nothing to do but prepare the simple.morning and eveningimeals:: ‘This than ‘seemed to « be -one of the . worst, specimens of the lower: ¢lass. of White, men in Australia...He was filthy and ragged : his old: hatiof eab- bage-palm Jooked as if;it had -been used more.than once as a pillow: it Was,completely crushed;.and fragments.of| it hung down. over hisfore- head») His -hands and-feet betrayed but too plainly the scarcity of water in. these tegions,,in which all the drinking water for the. men had 16! be brought from! the. chief station: of course, to waste any in washing dper- &tions was.out.of the question... With his head propped: upon. his lett hand,' he; was:-reading, strangely.enough, in a small well-thumbed’ book ‘yingyopen, before him.» So-deeply .absorbed: did he seem tobe by ‘its Contents, that he did not hear,the noise of the approaching horses until his dog, sunning himself by his side, and looking just as lazy as hie Master, raised, his-head slowly aud gave ‘a low)growl. At. this. moment Mr, Powell and his companion came up to the open ra) 34 THE BUSH SANGRE ; “OR; space before the hut, dismounted, xt fastened theis horses to the branches of a.malley-bush. Ld ml Semie® The.hut-keeper rose quickly on recognising: hid raatak, whit Aas dog, a wretched. mongrel cur, retreated, whining, at the» approach of the mighty) big-boned: kangaroo dogs, and sought renee under - oe of the only man likely to afford it. “ Well, Miller, how are you?” said Mr: Powell, walking slowly le the man... ‘Where.is Hendricks with the'sheep ?” to * On the other sidevof the fit-creek, sir, near the dry moana He thought the grass was better there.” Bitiogw ‘Then, we passed: him, and shall*find ‘him* on“ our veturn’ tigre happaned: héve ¢ Lost:no sheep? “No, sir.’ 3 Ih OVS IO ayay “No ake yet?” f ‘They are just beginning to come, but the grass lathes very bade oft would be a good thing if we could get some rain.’ During this conversation, M’Donald approached ther place wilene the man had been reposing, and:took up'the book, out of mere curiosity; oe see what kind of reading’ a man of this'sort would-choose, He had, ever, scarcely casta glance at it; when. he called ont, im the scionaaae as tonishment, ‘ Homer, by all that’s good, and in the original 1” “Does he read Homer ? Indeed!” said Mr. Powell. ® A wediong te herd, I suppose ?” At) this discovery’ Miller's face was suffnded with a dees ‘honad4 f could not be that he felt ashamed at being caught reading such voce ; itpmust have been that ‘his paneiee penne was*rendered more appar * by. this: fact. HOR, WAS i Time hangs'so very hewwwidgtt in the bushy” he atactiaaeneds invevideut een iioaenete but immediately after bit ‘his lips at‘having uttered the excuse. -M’Donald could not help examining: him more.attentively sand soon perceived, in spite of the filth and rags which covered lim, that the wretched being before him shad ‘once: seen better times) and'that those hands had no doubt been accustomed to a: very different:‘kind’ of -work from that of preparing food for the shepherd and placing hurdles for the sheep,, On his left hand he'still -wore’ a xing, the pure goldiof which neither dust:nor durt had been able’ entirely to conceal. Mx. |Powell. had in the meantime gone to examine the iuidieny placed at about four hundred paces distant, and’ to see whether. they were: in good.order.. M’Donald was unable to ‘take off his eyes from the shyand almost’ crouching form of the man standing before him. It-almost/seem* ed:to,/him as if he must have seen those grey and:dull eyes before-~a8 if that voice were familiar to him. .But where? His eventful life had led him through the bush in every direction, and brought him into eon tact with many individuals. How could.he keep the featuresof allof them in-his memory? Then the man before him looked so brutalized 5 the shell which covered him had become so coarse. that it was veryypos sible he, might have met. him belie aersciat better Renan could.not:now recognise him: f@, ypb. Bi He felt, however, that’ falas fixed! gaze: was: disagreeable woth ‘ uO Oe ¥ Orr - ora i ~— ~ fp as oo i co Gk a -@2 @ © & oe ceo ef ane oe es 2» eb © @ code: a wae ee aS TRAST = SB Be. S58 Bk Fatea Sse rt SHO os ‘ ag THE HALP-BREED BRIGADE. : whe turned away his eyes with evident uneasiness, and even! ittite bine’ What countryman are you ” asked M’Donald, in ‘a: friendly tone! 10 sie GerMalobro: yiimsl 2 sileeanA suede svodwomoe ovad ot obitel thought so—and your name.?”. »y '\ Miller” (withsome hesitation.) 1 it & Bewke vil ee$ From what part?” continued.M’Donald, in English, as if not moti- _ /Sing the German he heard from the|mouth of the stranger. eso'sFrom Wirtemberg:?. You were not a shepherd in: your own!coun- 9” ¢ " ’ reid twild—almost mocking-—smile stole over’ Miller’s features; and he ‘seemed as if about, to give.a hasty and angry answer. \ Were isucn:the ease, -he\altered, his mind,,and after| a, moment's reflection, slowly and hesitatingly replied, Toft, Non’ 94 Histone: orn en wor isa “Come my dear friend,” said Mr. Powell, returning from his'exami- Ration(; .“‘\we; must not istaydonge fi we wish to -calle-at /thé ‘ dry mash) we have not! a moment to loser; and I wish particularly tois to.the shepherdothis evening.) »Take goodcareiof the sheep, Miller,” he added; addressing, the Germain while :mounting shis: horses “ there igoa tribe of blacks encamped near the station; and you may be sure:that thereiaresome! moré of ther’ iny the neighborhood» Have you» iio’ dog but-thateur 2’). ole t elbind “ Hendricks has one— Pollo.” oof Well, 'that’s/a’ better animal.) Good day 1’ M’Donald, who was already-in the» saddle, nodded in‘aofriendly way ‘o-the-Getman} and the two horsemeén:soon left thé bush behind’ them, and cantered through:the open part of »the forest.» (qo 18 Ot y “<“ Whatastrange man that hut-keeper of :yours:is)” said)M’Dénald, When the ground again’ allowed: +him:to ride by the side of: his compan- ‘ons ‘tieglected, and) sunk in! the ' lowest state of ‘degradationy the fel- low;in all his misery, is: reading Homer. Might one not suppose that the man who feels such a want would also do sométhing ito preserve re- Spectability: in his ‘outward sappearance ?” reo 10” wfMy:dear friend, answered Mr. Powell; at) the same‘time® carefully 4voiding:the sharp ‘points of the «prickly grass, very plentiful» were they Were’ riding,“ perhaps no»place in’ the world exhibits such’ strange: in- Stances:of| degendration. and's complete ‘upsetting'of' all/human relations *sthe*bush in Australia.» Indeed; it dmetimes ‘appears ‘tome ‘as if idenée had ‘meant clearly 'to.show us that it;was not nature ‘alone fdlia: that delights in paradoxes; butevéw humanity itself’ ‘Sorne- thing similar exists in America; but not to sucha degree a’ in Austra- Wiss for there: people do'not sink into the lowest state of* human’soeiety, become hut! keepers’to*d lazyshepherd.» This occupation »is the lastonefiige of all those wretched: beings, who, in theit/old ‘Homes; ec:- Australiacas the landdn which:they hadeonly: to buy half a:do- *ensheep im order :to become rich» in'the'space ofa few years. « Every ide lof :society;‘eyery: profession; almost every rank’'in Europe; have ‘heir representatives in the bark huts of the bush.” eee THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, “Tt must be a frightful life,” said M’Donald, with a sigh ; “ and, nev eitheleseebe” srotizsons trobive ditw eoyo sid yews beni one “ After a time, many of them desire nothing better.” said Mr. Pow- ell) interrupting him. ‘This: Germian, for! itistanidé,; whois’ éven “said to have, somewhere about Australia, a family, rendered Wilserable by his faults, was formerly book-keeper at another station,and Shad gradu ally saved a hundred pounds, with ‘which’ he interided,’as he ‘said, re turning:home. But ‘he is. addited to! drink, and: this}unhappy Wiee has spoiled all. ‘He spent»what he ‘had, sank lowerthan ‘the'brute/ aiid "at lastol:took: him:as ‘hut-keéper, more’out of? pity’ than for’ any W8é he ‘can be tome. He is too lazy and careless even for this occupation ; arid’! shall be glad to get rid of him again When‘he came here’ first he"looked decent, but-now he is:entirely:lost in filth andvidleness.' His hawhatigs over, his face; his beard 'grows as long°as it*chooses': ‘indeed, Irscatéély recognized. him to-day.,’ leas yigaiisimet ‘But how is that? The Germans are generally said to be good sheF- herds?” iM bisa“, ) yi sito)” \* Very possible ; perhaps at home;::when. brought up tort ; ‘but net herein’ Austtalia; where; indeed, we get little but the scum of val fparts of ‘the world. It is strange, téo, that the Germans seldom ‘ovoupy ‘them: selves with the-rearing of sheep and ‘cattle; and) rarely stay inthe! biel, unless:compelled to doso.?00\)s'4 ol 4 heared vitoald to edit ‘He suddenly reined:in his horsey which obeyed the least’motion of the bridle, turned round, aud rode back to a place where something’6* traordinary seemed to attract his attention. © ad aloiubaoH ” “Those blacks have been hete in) the bush,” said M’Donald,! who had also turned round :| “I noticéd the: tracks before”): 01 vy lenoll'Th ‘(These rascally fellows /are snaking about,’ said Mr. Powell, “watch ing for an opportunity. to makeioff with some :sheep.?\11') ore )meo bi! {Do you think you have ‘anything to fear from them: as long as this tribe.is encamped near the station?” asked M’Donald. ! i119 90) iW That will not deter, them» in’ the) least,” replied the» settler, whe, with-knit eyebrows, was examining the track of' ay bare: foot deeply. "iat printed into the sand. v3 rg ulost dw nem 60 “ Of course, the tribe I favor will not steal anything, or, at least, mot so long as I provide for them; but 1) am»sure there:aré others 'in'the neighborhood, and I should: not:'be in the least degree: surprised if ‘ou friends bythe river sent them. word where they: will: have thesbest chance? of. success. But'I. hear: the bells of the sheep, : and :here,is the: man ‘I am-in-search of. . You will findhim a genuine specimen of the /Aubtre lian shepherd—a convict, with: a ‘ pass)’ or:4/ticket-of-leave,’ diving 1? comfortable lodgings, and who has at last found:thé ain of ‘his-whols lifes: Hendricks is'a real specimen of the wholé class.» 10 \inie gait! ‘From the place where they stopped, dn the summit of; a small, thinlf wooded. sand-hill, they could see,,at» a distance: of about sixchund paces; a man stretched out under’ one of the, solitary firs: »Whenid beard thé «noise of the! approaching vhors¢meny ‘he «metely: tarned bY headiin the direction; without, however; pausing «in his occupation’ * the sight of his master. He was engeged:in nothing less-than playin$ YET wer e 2 >= = oe =~ Se ua ioe! Bak THe ARALF-BRERD BRIGADE. oy ~t upon @ rusty old’ jew’s-harp; his dog, a fine: blackyboar-hound, reclined not far off; on the summit of a sand-hill, whence he could aeAAE the whole ‘flock: © “Well, Hendricks,” said Mr. Powell, when they. had. ridden’ up: to him, and ‘after watching him fora few moments with a smile, “ you e take it-coolly.” “The best way in’ the ‘world, sir,” replied Hey removing the instru. ment from: his mouth, ‘wiping it, and putting it into his pocket; “and a . Very happy fellow.is he who can do:so.” “The waggons have come, Hendricks.” “ The d-+1'!” he exclaimed, becoming suddenly! animated, and saimmp _ ing up any tobacco ?” “ Of course. ‘How are the sheep getting on—any sigus -of disease yet? * Noné—albas sound as butter.” “ Indeed! and \the lambs ?” : "© Tovearly for them yet : the few that dropped died, Shallwe get the ations to-morrow ?” “Yes, asvearly as possible: and keep an eye about. you-+-we ble tracked blacks in the neighborhood. A small troup are‘also-encamped at the station.” ' “ Be d—d take them !” growled Hendricks. ‘Look ‘after your hut-keeper: a little; I really believe the» fellow Sleeps as well at night as in the day time.” ~* “'T think so, too,” said the shepherd, laughing; but that is his busi- ness. | If I have my hands full-of work during the day, I cannot:be:ex- Pected to-watch him at night.” ame canes laughed, and Mr. Powell, turning his horse aay seid to E Give the man who brings the rations to-morrow twelve of your best heep'; “and if there it the “least appearance of disease, send Miller at once to the station to let me know. \ You understand.” ‘ “chy, ay, sir,” replied the shepherd, sulkily ; ‘‘ but don’t forget toisend me some tobacco: ' I’ll be hanged if 1 have not been chewing all my Pockets, and Ihave nota single place where I shall be able to: take Care of! it.” “‘Pawill be sure ‘to think. of it;—but I wish you would: drop you Swearing?” eS Ayyrayy sir 5 j but what did I want to ask—oh, have you dnp mia , Jew’s-harps: a ““ Tordered them,” replied Mr. Powell, laughing ; “but Lihave: “not ex ‘mined the things yet, and therefore do not know whether they have ar- ;cbut!I am alrnost sure they are there,’’ “#6 Bhen I shall go over to-morrow evening myself and choose ‘a i Sewn ? the:man evidently ‘satisfied, and smiling complacently, ““° Why, think yours is still in very good order,” said M’Donald. ies you like, I will send you a few to-morrow. morning,” said Mx Well. “No; thank yori, 3: ‘answered Kendricks ; “ I must examine thera my- rf 88 THE: BUSH. RANGER; OR; self.» I ‘want a few new ones, to play different tunes:-I know all:these? “Jf that is the case,” gaid. Mr. Powell, laughing, ‘ you ‘certainly mast go yourself. But I am afraid you will not find what you want.” “That, would be disagreeable,” growled the shepherd... “ Well;. good-bye. « Keep:a eye on ‘the blacks and Miller, | and ‘look carefully after the sheep!’ With these words, Mr. Powell gave his horse the spur, and proceeded homewards, followed by M’Donald. ‘Keep my eyes everywhere,” growled Hendricks, looking sulkily after the two horsemen, ‘‘ for 25/. a-year, and no tobacco.» I should like t« ‘know who that new cove is ;—~a new overseer, perhaps ?—-wouldn’t be .amiss. But what do I care?” he added, aftera short pause, fixitig hir hat more firmly upon his head and taking his cloak from the ground, ‘there will be: fresh tobacco to-morrow, and now Liam going in. ‘The beasts must have got their bellyful by this time, or at least they will not die of hunger until to-morrow morning. Here:Pollo !—home!”).” This was sufficient for the dog, The sagacious animal kiew very well whatrit had to-do. » Barking: loudly; he collected: the; sheep from! there various retreats into the nearest open space, until he had: gathered. the whole flock»and:then drove it past his master, in the direction: of the hut. Hendricks stood still until they had all gone by, and was onthe point of following, when he observed an ewe which had just lambed, and) was staying behind with its helpless offspring. “ Poll” cried Hendricks, pointing at the poor animal with is crook : “there !—Does not the beast know) what to do??? The dog ran towards the sheep, and barked at.it once or tnide. Hew: ever unmercifully: he might attack stragglers from the flock, ‘thé faithful animal now showed himself just as considerate, and: looked fromthe lamb, scarcely» able to stand, to. his master, as if he wished to gay :— ‘s Surely, you must have a little patience; I cannot drive _the mother away from bersyoung.” +:- Hendricks seemed to be of a different opinion. The foak'h was ii abbey In motion, and he was impatient of delay» Uttering a tremeridous oath, cursing sheep, dog, and everything else, he stepped ‘towards the poor’ an- xious‘ewe, which, as if suspicious of danger, looked up to him with fear, and stood between him and the lamb: he pushed it aside and with 0p his Jof pite Se, void Ce, acxt bout fore erful ror, and THE. HALH-BREED BRIGADE. 45 encouraging tone ; “1 will answer for your safety with my life. Did you come here on foot?” . “My horse has been, taken from me, and is grazing yonder in the ush,” M’Donald perceived that he had arrived just in time to rescue the poor ie from her unpleasant, position, and perhaps save her from violence’ e boldly turned to oue of the biggest and fiercest-looking of the trou; , saying to him, in his own language, “I say, old fellow, catch that horse yonder, and bring jt here. Quick! Do you understand ?” The black looked astounded, and aghast, little expecting to be address- ed by a white man in his own tongue ; but hc stirred not, and only grasp- ed the spear which he held in his hand the tighter. “ You, white man,” he answered, ‘‘ what do you want here ?, We haye not called you. Go, away, your place is not here.” : _ M’Donald, would gladly haye jumped off his horse, placed Sarah upon it, and thus removed her out, of danger as quickly as possible; but he knew well enough that by so doing, he should have deprived himself of a great advantage over the blacks, who could then have thrown their spears at him and, Miss, Powell, and have quickly made their escape into the bush, Their attitude betrayed but too clearly that they had support close atj/hand, Probably, a strong tribe or troop of them was encamp- ed in the neighborhood, for these did not. belong to the tribe at the. sta- tion. ., Without, therefore, wasting another word upon them, he drew out his pistol; cocked it, and pointed it at.the breast of the black. The man at first made a movement, as if anxious io avoid the dangerous Weapon, but still kept his ground. “‘ Now, hear.me '”’ said the young stranger, quietly ;, “ you know what I have.in my,hand. A pressure of my finger, and I send the short Spear through your butter, and the ‘murrang redlu’ (wild dogs) shall &naw thy bones. And this,” continued he, partly drawing the second Pistol, and letting it fall back into the. holster, ‘‘ is for the next rascal who offers to. raise. a spear. If, on my return, I do not find the horse, at the same place, we shall drive your whole tribe into the Murray, and make yeu food for the fishes. And now move, if you dare, black, cow- ardly ‘rascals that you are, to attack a helpless woman !” The blacks still paused, as if irresolute what to do, when M’Donald Called out to. the young lady not to lose a moment, to take hold of the ‘tirrup-strap. and walk by his side. Sarah did as he directed, and M’ onald quietly turned his horse’s head towards the nearest even. space. Pistol in Pd he carefully watched the movement of his enemies, and at last saw.them crowd together, brandishing their spears eagerly, and Peaking hastily to each other. He had now gained a hundred paces nh advance ; but he knew, very well, that in an attack of the blacks, his Companion would be exposed. to the greatest danger. ‘They are going to follow us,” he hurriedly whispered to her: ‘‘ but they have Jost, the favorable moment, Give me your hand, Miss Sarah ; Place your joo upon mine—here, you can easily get up on these roots. ck! ‘percelve. our intentlon—gquick, for God’s sake, or it will be wo PL pst perceive our m4 »9 a am = 46 THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, Sarah was a genuine child of the forest, and perfectly at home in the sad: dle. Without the least hesitation she did as she was told—jumped upon ’ the root, which they had now reached, placed her foot upon that of ‘the horseman, and slung herself into the saddle. The blacks, emboldened by this attempted flight, rushed forward with a wild shout. The noble creature scarcely felt the spur ere it made the dust fly far behind, and bounded off with its burden with the rapidity of the wind. A few spears fell short of the fugitives, and M’Donald and his beautiful charge were soon beyond the reach of harm, Sarah pointed out the shortest way to the station, telling her preserver in hasty words how—perhaps a little thoughtlessly, but féaring no danger, as the black tribe was encamped close to the station—she had gone forth to meet her father, as she had often done before. Not venturing to ride further into the bush, she had stop- ped at a place whence she could command a view of the whole plain, when she was suddenly surrounded by the blacks, whose’ attitude be- came more threatening every minute, until he had rescued her from their grasp. M’Donald made no reply. He was about to beg of her ‘never again to expose herself to such danger,—to express his gratefulness to~ Providence for guiding him to her aid at the right moment,—but he could not find words. Silently he supported the young girl, with his right arm round her waste, until all danger of being overtaken by the _ blacks was over and they could see the enclosures of the station. Then he stopped his horse, swung himself out of the saddle, which he gave up to the lady, put her left foot into the stirrup, and, leading the horse by the bridie, walked slowly at her side the rest of the way, until they ar- rived at the station. or “Ffallo ! M’Donald, where is your brush ?” exclaimed Mr. Powell, who had arrived a short time before, triumphantly holding out the trophy taken from the dingo, “But,” added he, “bless ine! how did Sarah get upon your horse ?” , , “Father,” said Sarah, “if Mr. M’Donald has missed his game it is not his fault, but mine. He met me at the right moment to save me, perhaps, from too severe a punishment for my thoughtlessness,” “T found Miss Sarah near the blacks,” said M’Donald, with an implor- ing glance at the young lady, as if he wished to avoid the mention of the adventure, ‘‘ and I offered her my escort.” ‘Blacks 2” exclaimed Mr. Powell; “then the black rascals are in the neighborhood, after all.” . “Tn the neighborhood of blacks ” redeated Sarah, with surprise. “ He saved me out of their hands |” ; Ts it possible ’" exclaimed her father, with fear and surprise ; “ did shey dare 4 : *9 Do not be uneasy on that account,” said M’Donald, calmly. “A ‘ow impudent fellows, belonging to some wandering tribe, had, indeed, the audacity to stop Miss Powell ; and when they thought we were far eriongh not to hurt us, hurled their spears after us. But the horse shal! be in your possession again this very evening, or, at latest, by to-morrow morning. I will at once send one of the fellows encamped here to fetch it, and | feel perfectly certain he will regain it without difficulty.” * eh. ed a Se ee os THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 47 Without waiting for an answer, he left Mr. Powell and his daughter, and’ hastily walked to the spot where the blacks were encamped. Mr. Powel! elicited from his daughter the details of her adventure, and he seemed inclined to assemble his men that very evening, and to chastise the ‘blacks for their impertinence and audacity ; it was so far advanced that this plan was abandoned, and he resolved to go out early in the morning in order to reconnoitre. This was necessary, or at least pru- dent, to show the daring natives that a sufficient number of white men could be found ‘to frustrate any designs they might have formed. The news greatly alarmed Mrs. Powell, and she feared.a collision with the revengeful blacks, which might endanger her family and the lives of her children. Deeply did she feel the obligations she owed. to their guest, and she awaited his return with impatience, anxious to express hergratitude, In this, however, she was doomed to be disappointed, at least for that evening. They had waited supper for him more than a quarter of an hour, when a message was brought from him by the stock- keeper, to the effect that he could not come: They were moreover in- formed that he had gone into the bush with one of the blacks, not only for the purpose of recovering the horse, but also for that of examining the camp of ‘the blacks, to ascertain their strength, and whether any real danger was to be apprehended. Mr. Blake shook his head at this somewhat fool-hardy night expedi- tion in company with that “ worthless, treacherous set.” At the same, time, he declared that it was his opinion that M’Donald did not look as it he would be easily worsted, and no doubt he would return on the fol- lowing morning perfectly well. He added, that it was his intention to let them know @ bit of his mind, and teach them what it was to insult a white woman. Mr. Powell was not altogether pleased at his guest’s rash expedition. M’Donald was not even well acquainted*with the forest, and would have to rely entirely upon his black guide ; but he did not give expression to his thoughts, as the ladies seemed quite uneasy enough. He told Mr. Bale to arm the people, and hold them in readiness for the following morning, when the man with the ration cart should go to the shepherd’s hut, for the purpose of searching the nearest bush, and, if neeessary, of clearing it. ; The preparations commenced at break of day. Sarah was alone in the breakfast parlor, laying the table and getting the simple meal ready, when the door suddenly opened, and M’Donald entered. He looked pale and grave, and only answered the kind words she addressed to him with a silent and almost sad smile. The maiden’s heart—why, she knew not_heréelf—grew heavy with forebodings of impending misfortune. “Do you know that your rash crusade of last night made us very un- easy?” she said at last, as a friendly reproach. “<] am extremely sorry to hear that, for [ had quite:an opposite in: tention,” said M’Donald. “ I wished to reassure you, and’ at the same time to ascertain for myself the exact number of the tribe encamped about here. _ 1 can -now give you the satisfactory news that yon need entertain no fears for your safety, Your horse is also recovered.” 48 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, “ You met the blacks, then,” inquired Sarah, anxiously. ‘ “T got close to their caiip-and counted their fires,” replied M’Donald. smiling. “This could be done im perfect safety,” he continued,“ on so,dark a night’; for they are/too ‘superstitious :to» venture very. far, beyoud their tigght.” I. was rather surprised yesterday at the thorough: knowledge you showed of their language,” said Sarah, blushing—‘ indeed, so. surprised and frightened with the adventure, that I have not yet thanked you for your assistancelas I might have wished.” “ Miss Sarah,” replied M’Donald, with deep emotion,’’ the recollec- tion’ of the small service I have! been ‘happy eriough to render you, will always be a'ray:of sunshine in my: life, not over rich in joys,,, Let me take that with’ me into the cold; friendless world, and preserve, me.ever so'smallia:place in your heart, fromi.which may God avert pain and, sor- row !”? “ You desire toleave us again?” exclaimed Sarah, with painful sur- rise: 7 “Yes, this very morning,” answered M’Donald, furtnly. “TI ameven afraid,” he addded, in a low voice, ‘1 have already stayed too long, and | must go away.” ‘And what comipels yowto depart thus?” asked Sarah, evidently striving to seem calm: and collected. “My: father likes you,” she! added, and will do anything in his power to keep:you im our neighborhood... Then} is it right to, come to one’s ftiends'to confer upon 'them obligations ‘never to be, forgotten, and_, to leave them suddenly, as if you were tited of their intercourse ?,,What would you say, were | to entreat you to stay for a short time only.” “ You must not do so,”' replied »-M’Donald, hurriedly ;, “1 might not, perhaps, be able to refuse suchva request.” “Then I make it most earnestly,” said Sarah, whilst, a tell; tale blush suffised her cheeks and brow :“‘and both my father and mother , will support it.” “ What, my childy? asked Mr. Howell, stepping in with his wife, “what is the matter ?” “Mr. M’Donald wishes to leave us already, a and I said you wguld second my request for him to. stay longer with us.” « With all my heart,” exclaimed Mr. Powell: “ My dear friend, you must, om no condition thik: of leaving us so soon. Did you not: wish to look out for a cattlé-run inthe neighborhood 2” “It-appears that you wish to.run ‘away in. order to escape the ex- pression of our gratitude for rescuing our dear child,’ exclaimed Mrs. Powell, affectionately taking) M’Donald’s. hand. “ Are you so indifferent at having preserved a whole family from a’ fearful misfortune ‘“Towill stay,” answered M’Donald, suddenly, but, with ‘a painful ex- pression: upon his countenance; ‘ at least, I will remain for some time to proveto you how gladly, how very gladly I avail myself of your hos- aitality.” : THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 49 “But hope you are not making any sacrifice,” exclaimed Mr. Pow- ell;*quickly ; ‘for it did not escape him that his guest was strangely moved; ‘You © must not neglect your own affairs for our sakes; you must recollect: that we poor inhabitants of the bush cling rather tena- ciously to every one who becomes dear to us. You may therefore ex- pect ‘that we shall all display the same unwillingness to part with yeu weeks and months hence, that we have shown: to-day.” “It is'my most fervent wish you may never repent your kindness,” said M’Donald, taking the hand offered to him and shaking it most heartily. ‘« Now come in to breakfast, children,” said Mrs. Powell; ‘‘ where ia ‘Lisbeth, and Bill, and Ned) and John? Come in; the tea will be cold, and the whole breakfast spoiled.” CHAPTER VI. THE FIGHT WITH THE BLACKS. Wuite the household were at breakfast, all was life and agitation at the station. Mr. Powell had ordered his two stock-keepers, who hap- pened to be there, to accompany him on an excursion into the bush. He had, moreover, armed his bullock-drivers, and added to the party the two hut-keeper of the station itself, in order to make as respectable a troop a8 possible to take against the blacks ; thus hoping at once to awe them sufficiently to deter them from any future attacks. Mr. Powell knew very well that he had nothing to fear from the blacks near the house, while such a troop remained in the vitinity of the station ; the men very seldom or never offer violence to the whites ; on the contrary, they do their utmost to show how friendly they are dis- posed towards them. Whether these feelings are sincere or feigned, is quite a different matter. , Mr. Bale was in the meantime mustering his small troop, examining their arms, and enlightening his men with the narration of some of his fights in the bush, and giving particular cautions against straggling and getting in the rear. “Hang the black rascals !” ha exclaimed, with an oath ; “ whenever they ¢an get at a man from behind, they do 0, and the curséd wooden spears are certain death. If you face them, they cannot take so much tite for theit aim, and the eye of their antagonist awes them. The ras- cals are nothing but cowards after all, and run away like wild dogs when they do not fight in a large body, or cannot attack from be- hind.” As Mr. Powell only intended to take a morning ride in the bush, the preparations were soon completed. The men, who had already break- fasted, carried. some provisions with them, in case tney should stay in the bush after noon. They awaited rather impatiently the arrival of their master and the order for their march, 5 ‘THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, Mr.. Powell came at last, accompanied by M’Donkld and his sons; The latter——at least, George and Bill, the eldest—soon mounted there, horses, so-as not to cause any delay.» Ned walked at his father’s side unarmed, and sorely displeased, for he had been ordered by his father not, to;.ac- company the expedition, but to stay at home with him to protect. the house and family.. After all, it was not safe, to, place entire reliance upon their black neighbors. *. Have you told the men how I, wish this affair,to be conducted, Mr. Bale 2” Mr. Powell asked the chief stock-keeper. | ‘ Above all things, take care not to fall into disorder.” “« t is all right,” replied the Yorkshireman ; “‘ we will give these black rascals such a lesson that, by heavens ! they will not annoy a white lady again, and, above all, Miss Sarah!” “Tam afraid you misunderstood me, Mr. Bale,” said Mr. Powell, very gravely ; “ I expressly forbid you to use violence against these un- fortunate men; and you must have recourse to your arms only in the last extremity, and in self-defence.” «“ Self-detence '” exclaimed one of the stock-keepers, with astonish- ment. “ Certainly, only in self-defence,” was the firm and decisive answer. * | will not, by over-severity or recklessness, cause blood to be. spilled unnecessarily, and thereby arouse the anger of the blacks, and perhaps goad them to take vengeance upon some innocent people. Most mur- ders committed at the stations arise from such causes, We do them plenty of harm by forcibly taking, possession of their hunting grounds, without scattering death in.their ranks. The offence committed by a few of them yesterday certainly requires to be noticed. We must show them that we have the means and power to punish them, did we desire to do so. For this purpose I have arranged this excursion. They are easily frightened, and this willbe a warning to them in future. 1 hope you understand me, Mr. Bale?” “ Perfectly, sir,” answered the stock-keeper, sulkily. “I would, how- ever, have you remeraber, that by too great leniency you make them overbearing instead of frightening them.” Lo “Do not fear that such will be the case. One word more Let there be no firing, not even jn the air, as men are so fond of doing whenever. they get a gun into their hands. It makes the blacks daring, and they. usually fancy you have fired at them and missed. There must be.no firing but in a case of extremity, and then in such a manner that every shot shall, if possible, tell. You,see I am not, as you seem to fancy, in- clined to take only half measures, but I will have no blood saeey san necessarily. Do you think, M’Donald, we could induce one of these fellows lounging idly yonder before their fires to guide us?” “Scarcely,” replied the latter; “but we can try. It is, however, ten to one that the two troops are more closely allied than they seem to admit; and if one of them should consent to go with us, it would be a question whether he could be trusted.” “ Well, we can at “east try ” answered Mr, Powell. “ You speak their. ’ THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 51 ianguage; and the man who accompanied you last night may perhaps be induced to act as guide to-day.” With M’Donald he walked towards the camp of the blacks, leaving. Mr. Bale,in by no means a: friendly or conciliatory mood. «The old story again, he muttered, “ running after these black ras-- cals just to wish them a goud morning, and then to. return’ —“ Wait until we get out, Mr. Bale,” said George, who had. returned’ with, his horse and overheard Bale’s remark. “Father. is always too cautious in this respect; nevertheless, we will give them a reminder. They shall not frighten Sarah for nothing.” ‘Yes, and then I shall catch it,” murmured the stock-keeper ; ‘it is rather dangerous joking on this subject with the governor? ‘Nonsense, we must show them we are in earnest,” replied the young nan, burning with impatience to try his strength with the blacks: Like roost of his countrymen, he considered them as little better than wild dogs, and would not have made much difference between. shooting one of them and a dingo. Meantime Mr. Powell and his companion had reached the camp of the blacks, They found it in complete tranquility and comfortable ‘in- difference, in spite of the warlike preparations going on so near. They had just finished their breakfast, at which they nad. devoured the re- mains of the three sheep they had received the day before. The wo- men crouched by the fires, and the men were stretched out upon their backs, in order to give the stomach full play for digestion. .. The dogs alone were still at work at the bones which their masters had thrown to them. They gnawed one, while they held. two more under thcir paws, lest some other dog should seize the scarce and precious booty. _ Only one native had taken up his station away from the camp. ‘This was Nguyulloman, whose gunyo was situated on the summit of a small isolated sand-hill, distant about sixty paces. He kept up a good fire, and seemed to be the only one who had anything left of the provisions given the night before, which he was just preparing in a way peculiar to himself. Sometimes he covered the coals with a large piece of bark, to smother the fire ; at another moment he admitted the air, and let tine: thick smoke rise until the flames broke out anew. At the same time he devoured his meal, without seeming to trouble himself much akout . the rest of the tribe. Tt seems,” said Mr. Powell, pointing to. the cripple, “asif he: waa wading in the sand up to his hips, and that is why he moves with so. much difficulty. What a poor wretch! If his tribe were to forsake him, he must die of hunger.” “Tam not sure of that,” replied M’Donald, who had thoughtfully ex- amined the strange form of the.cripple. r “Tam far from considering this cripple so inoffensive, and the boom: erang which he wears tied round his neck shows that. he is at least’ca- pable of handling this weapon. I feel satisfied he creeps up-to a kang-- arog more /stealthily than any young fellow of his tribe, and his:aimris: sure enough. It is mest remarkable to observe with what skill he throws Ree ——— — — . 52 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, bones or pieces of wood at) those dogs which approach too near—he never misses.” “Yes, indeed, and these lean brutes have the greatest possible TpEpect for him,” continued Mr. Powell, laughing. “ But let ‘us go to the ‘ bur- kas, and*see what'is to be done with them.” M’Donald addressed the blacks, who had half risen from their recum- bent posure on their arrival: ' He asked Kakurru to guide them. ~ But another thick-headed, ‘white’ haired ‘fellow, who’ had almost as many wrinkles on his:face as punctured marks on his shoulders and back, an- swered: for him; not in his’ own ‘language, but in the most frightful English. “Black tribes there,” was about the meaning of his speech—* bad fellows—take much butter and can’ cast chartns—make rain and wind, and dry up the waterholes: White men have given them meat—good —but they are honest blacis—steal no horses and no sheep, and live at peace with their neighbors: If they accompany the white meh, the black men will come in’ the night to suck up their butter and make them:blind, and spear women and childrett.” Kakurru, too, did not seem inclined to accept the offer; he laid down again; put his hands under his head, and closed his eyes. “ Well, if you don’t like to go, stay here,” said Mr. Powell, who prided himself on knowing the men with whom he had to deal; “ but if one uf you had gone with us'ds a guide, I should have given him another fat sheep as.a reward.” Kakurru opened his eyes, but did not stir. ‘\ Perhaps two, if I had ‘reason to be satisfied with him,” replied Mr. Powell with a smile, as if confident of victory. The elders conversed together for a good: while, in such low whispera that even M’Donald could not understand what they said. Contrary: to their expectations, the result’ of the cotiference was a negative Ka- kurru did mot stir, and the remainder declared they would have nothing to.do with -this: business. ‘Pwo sheep are good,’, said the white haired fellow, “ but black tribe.is very bad ; do not like to irritate them.” Mx! Powellidid notseeit altogether disinclined to make a higher offer, but M’Donald prevented him, saying, ‘For God's ‘sake, leave the’ blacks to follow their own inclinations. The most you could do would be to induce them to accept of your offer, and to lead us somewhere into the bush ; but certainly not to the place where the other tribe is encamped. They do not like to have anything to. do with the: transaction, and J can easily understand their motives, Let us search the country, and if we find no blacks in the nei hborhiood’ so much the better. If we do meet with them, we shall st ow them that we are their masters, and thus accomplish our purpose.” “Very well, I am quite willing. Just’ look’ at the cripple ; 1 think ‘he has fallen asleep.” Nguyulloman had apparently fallen asleep. He lay motionless by ‘nis fixe, . Some of the dogs which had already devoured their share dis- persed, and orept slowly and carefally; towards the hill.” “Wheii' one SS THE HALF-BREED. BRIGADE. 53 got hold of a bit of meat or a bone, he snatched it up, and, with hie tail between his legs, ran away with all haste to devour his choice mor- cel in salty at some distance. . This encouraged the others, and two of the boldest had ventured to within about fifteen paces of thecripple, in order to take possession of a sheep’s head, which was already pretty well cleared of the flesh, when Nguynlloman raised his dark and. crook- ed form with the quickness of lightning, and threw at the frightened an- imalg two sharp bones which he held in readines, with such force and unerfing aim, that the poor brutes yelled aloud with pain and scamper- ed away as fast as possible, Afier this, the dogs kept at a respectful, distance. The skill with which the apparently helpless cripple. had thrown the bones was really astonishing. He, however, did not seem to think it ex- traordinary; but continued, as before, busily engaged with his fire, onl casting an occasional glance at the white man now, advancing ta feheas him. oe If Mr. Powell had intended to enter into conversation with him, he was prevented by a discovery which he made on reaching the top of the hill.” From the gum-bush, at the distance of about two miles, a thin smoke rose high into the air, and his shout, «There is the camp of the blacks!” called M’Donald’s attention, te the spot. “Tf such be the case,” said M’Donald, “ they have only, remoyed this morning. _ Last night they were encamped in that direction, and I am sure that they did not alter their position in the dark.” “Perhaps they are going away,” Mr, Powell snggested. “ In that case it is so much the more necessary to prove to them before they do so, that we are well prepared for them, or else we shall have them baek | in a few days more daring still. Be so kind, therefore, Mr, M’Donald to take the men with Mr. Bale, in that direction, and once more .Jet me entreat you not to allow blood to be shed, if not absolutely necessary.” Before ascending the hill, Mr. Powell turned to Nguyulloman and said to him: ‘ “ That smoke comes from the tribes which were encamped yonder last night, doesn’t it ?” “th sel “Don’t know,” the latter replied, sulkily, ‘“ When black man sleeps at night, he makes a fire; when, he goes away in the, morning, he lets it burn.” pnb This was all that. could be got out of him. Meantime the small troop, headed by Mr. Powell’s two sons, anxiously awaited his retuin, Ax soon as he came.with M’Donald. they all vaulted. into their saddles. ‘“And now let us be off!” cried Mr. Bale, ‘or else we shall give, the biack beasts too great a start, andin the end they'll believe. that we ate afraid of them!” cooaeel “ They are in that direction, and.,not far, off, Mr. Bale,” said; Mr. Powell. “From the hill we perceived their camp fires.” _. di ial In’ that ' direction!” said the overseer, with suxprise. “Ith u bt they were in quite an opposite quarter.” 4 at any tate, stoke is to be sean yonder,” observed M'Donald, : ® ee eeantniatenntetend ee — BA” THR BUSH RANGER; OR, “ Well, so much the better,” replied the stock-keeper to himself, with a laugh, “ There is nothing but thé salt bush between us and them, and we shall be able to go all the way at full speed. Any further orders, Mr. Powell?” “None—remember what I told you before.” a “Forward, then !” he called out.’ Turning his horse’s head, he took a flying leap over the barrier, which was about four feet and a halt high. © Mr. Powell’s’two sons followed him at once, and so did M’Don ald, who again rode his gray horse. The shepherds and hut-keepers, mounted for the occasion, went more carefully to work. They first got one of the men who remained behind at the station to take out the bars in spite of the jeers and laughing of the cattle-drivers, all practised horsemen ; and they then followed the'rest of the party, who had al- réady got a considerable start. et Mr. Bale, riding at the head of the troop, discovered the smoke, and. was about to urge his men to a brisker pace, in order to come up, with the blacks as soon as possible, and to track them in case they had left their chmp, when M’Donald perceived some one standing in the bush on their right, on somewhat higher and more open ground, making signals to them, At his command the party halted, and by the aid of a small pocket telescope which he carried with him, he made out a white man standing on the top of a malley hill, who probably for want of a hand- kierchief,’ was waving his jacket round his head. a ‘That is the hut-keeper, Miller,” said Mr. Bale, after a glance through the glass; “something must have happened, or else the lazy, fellow would not come here from the station at such an early hour.’ At any rate, we must go to him and see.” ; “Without waiting for an answer, M’Donald rode towards the spot in which he had seen the man, who, as soon as he perceived the horsemen coming towards him, ran and met them half way. tae It was, as Mr. Bale had said, Miller, the German hut-keeper. Pale, exhausted with his hasty run, he had scarcely sufficient breath ‘eft to relate what had brought him from the station. “The blacks” he gasped forth, as soon as he came .within hearing of the horsemen—‘“ the blacks—have—attacked the station—driven away the sheep —all, all, away.” ; “'The devil !” exclaimed Mr. Bale. ‘‘ The whole herd ?” “Scattered and carried off,” was the answer. “This morning ?” asked George, approaching hastily. “Yes—that is—~pefore daybreak.” / “Then this idle rascal’has been sleeping again!” ‘exclaimed Bale, darting ‘an angry look at the ‘poor fellow. rie ea Miller’ attempted to defend himself, but the overseer gave no time for 't, i ie: peace “Brown and Bartlett,” said he, “ride as quickly as. you can’ to, spot where we saw the smoke. ‘We must. ascertain whether, they ,are - really‘there, or whether it is only @ stratagem, in order to lead us ona taise track. if, as I suppose, you fitid’ nothing, you will’ cross ithe i creek which runs in the direction,'diid* come to ‘the salt-ponds. Joa THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 5B know, the piace? ..This,is the easiest plan; and if the black! thieves have driven the sheep in that, direction, we shall.meet there.) Atvany rate, I shall leave some one to wait for you. . If you arrive. fizst, ‘wait. But if they should have gone this way which is not probable, one of you come and let me know while the other follows the track. The: rest of us will ride to the station; they cannot move very rapidly, with the sheep; and we must overtake them.” The orders were executed instantly. The two stock-men turned off to the left, and in a few minutes, Miller was alone in the bush. He:te- turned much more slowly than he had come, and seemed to be. consider- ably cut up for the loss of the sheep. As they, had been driven. away during the night, when under his care, he would be answerable for the loss, if they were not recovered. ' After an hour’s ride, the small troop reached the station, where Hen- dricks was just returning, bathed im perspiration, with a gun, upon his shoulder. He had followed the tracks which, led northward into. the. thickest part of the bush, and he requested the horsemen, whom he had certainly not expected so soon, at once to. goin pursuit. . The,tracks were distinct, so that they could not miss them and, mounted as they were, they must soon overtake the blacks. ' bi ‘At what o'clock were they driven away?” inquired Bale, anxious to obtain some idea of the distance they might have gone since that time, “ How do I know?’ replied Hendricks. .“‘ That.lazy hut-keeper and his wretched cur were. both fast asleep; and when I rose this morning, at.daybreak, and found the yard empty, 1 had to wake them both.” “Did they take the whole herd off?” _ No; they know better than that,” replied the shepherd. ‘I have already recovered some seventy, or eighty, and there is a good many ran- ning about. the bush. The dingoes have been amongst them,.. I think they have driven off some eighty or a hundred ; such a number are more easily taken care of. At first the lot was larger, as 1 could. see by the, tracks; but they have left behind those that were somewhat slow, and only taken the fleetest.” “Who is,that in the hut?” said the. overseer, suddenly, with, an in- quiring glance, at the shepherd. ; “In the hut?’ replied the latter, confused. “Yes; I saw this sheet of bark moving. Is any one there ?” ‘ “Hem !—yes ; a poor devil of a bundleman, who arrived last night. He is looking out for work. He sprained his foot, and can’t get.on 5, in Hah he was altogether out, of sorts, He is,lying.on my bed.”...,... "Bale dismounted, gave his horse to one of the men to hold, and en-, tered the hut, He,had, of course, nothing to say against, the hospitality otterec to the stranger, but he wished to see who he was. hen he got into the hut, he looked at once towards the spot where he had seen the sheet of bark moving; but that part was empty. The stranger was reclining on the bed, piaced against the opposite side of the wall, with his back turned, to the door. ie ‘ fais Mi Hallo, my friend! where do you come from ?” sede aipenienhalineennederstnenesttaraietiessiaiaeteed a 56 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, * Hallo; sir ?” replied ‘he, turning round. “ I'am confoundedly out = sorts). and. was glad’ to reach this place last night.” * Where do-you come from ?” ‘North-West Bend.” Are youa shepherd ¢” “ T understand the business.” “(an you shear?” “DT think so,” “Well, perhaps there is'a place for ypu here,” said ‘Bale. The wild appearance of the man did not strike. him as’ anything extraordinary. Most’ people of ‘the sort who wander tirough the ‘bush look more like escaped highwaymen than’ honést laboring’ men. “Stay here until we return, and I'll talk to Mr, Powell about it. I have no doubt that the German who is hut-keeper here must be sent away, for this. is the third ‘time he has neglectéd his duty. T must be off now.” ‘And he went out aitd ‘mowited. “ Mr. M’Donald, if you have no objection, we'll go‘ at dnte after’ the black rascals, and' Iam sure’ that’ Mr. Powellcan have nothing to say agains? it, if ‘we give them a sharp lesson: ’ If we lét this’ Pass ‘unpun ished, they will burn our houses over our ‘heads ‘next. “Point out the track, Hendricks, and ‘try to collect'ds' many of the ‘ahieep out ‘of the bush as you ean.’ “Ay, ay, sir!” replied the shepherd, moving on quickly. He had not to go far; close to the hurdles the broad and distinct track by which the sheep had been drivea by the blacks was visible ; further’ in’ the bush, the marks were deeply impressed in the soft ‘sand, "atta could not be well mistaken. As soon as the horsemen had reached’ the’ tratks;’ the Hib indhh put spurs to his steed, and galloped forward’ at jull speed.” “When they camé to the so-called “ ‘salt-pond, ”a remarkable spot in the bush, they halted} to wait for ‘the men ome in the direction in — ‘they’ had fist | ‘een the smoke. The “ salt-pond” was menrr in a flat, arid ‘ypidiny surrounidéd" on all sides by red malley hills. It was calculated to make ‘a strong’ impres: sion upon any European seéitig’ it for'the first time: 'A spot ‘of about two hundred teet in diameter looked, in’ spite of ‘the heat, which! was becoming oppressive, exactly as if it was covered with sttong’ anil firm ice, The blacks had’ passed this way dtl the ‘shéep, dad the yo r ells glowed with impatience to pursue the thieves. Bale,’ jer, to restrain their ardor—for to judge by the tracés in the’ tad, the Black were ‘iiore numerous than was at ‘first supposed: ©) 0) 0 ’ Their patience was not, however sorely taxed.’ The tWo Horseitién arrived in about a quarter of an hour, and announéed ‘the’ smoke ‘arose from ‘a small fire without gunyoes, and that they could distinguish the tracks (of only one solitary black. ‘Nothing row prevented the immediate pursuit of the thieves, and the troop galloped forward, as quickly ‘as ‘the natute of the Broun arta permit, proreded by the'stock-keeper and M’Donald : the ong’ tracks a .«¢ right, the other those on the left, Te. ee ee ie ek | ee a én se he he ald THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. ST Fortunately for them, the blacks had, on account of the sheep, been forced.to keep to the open ground, in order to get away faster. The pur- auers entertained little doubt of very soon overtaking the depredators, as the sheep: must naturally retard their progress, when they suddenly came upon six sheep lying dead in the bush, with their bellies ripped open. mt This is some of their work !” cried the overseer, stopping by the slaughtered animals, and distnounting. “ But what can be the mean ing of this? Surely, the rascals do not know that we are upon their tracks,” “ At their old tricks, no doubt,” said one of the other stock-keepera, with an oath. “ Just see whether they have left the kidneys.” *t No, they are gone!” exclaimed Mr. Bale. “| What pampered. glut- tons” | suppose we shall find the whole flock in this state.” ‘‘The longer we delay, the more sheep will be slaughtered,” said M’Donald. ‘“True, we have not a moment to lose. .Forward !” cried Bale, | and remounting|-he put spurs to his horse, and rushed to the head of the troop. They no longer had any trouble in making out the tracks ; these were plainly indicated by the slaughtered sheep. _ They found them one or two at a time, from all of which, nothing but the kidney had been taken. The blacks had, however, lost time in these delays, and when the troop arrived at the top of the hill, they could. see the whole tribe quietly resting on the borders of a thick and disagreeable-looking malley- bush. The natives knew very well that the horsemen could not follow them into this, and did not fear them so much when dismounted, Some of them were busily engaged slaughtering some of the sheep, probably only with the view of taking from them the delicate kidneys, whilst others were driving the remainder of the. flock, consisting perhaps of twelve or fourteen, into the bush, in which they immediately disap- peared. : Further orders were not wanted. Every man saw his goal before him, and, looking out for the most favorable spot, the horsemen dashed at full speed down the hill, towards the blacks, still busily engaged in their occupation. The latter, had, no doubt, perceived their pursuers before, —had even, perhaps, been apprized of their arrival. by spies concealed in strange -hiding-places. In. spite of this, they continued tbeir work until the horsemen were about two hundred paces from them, when they also dived into the thicket, with their light) booty . and blood- stained hands. ‘ , ‘A few moments after, the foaming horses stood at the benders of the malley-bushes, which stretched their straight arms towards them, cover- ed with green foliage, as if to keep them away. . Bale was pertectly well acquainted with the ground, and at once divided his men into two divisious. One of these he committed to the direction of the second stock-keeper, whose cattle-run was in this neighborhood, desiring him to surround the wood on the right, and to cut off the retreat of the blacks in the direction of the open. plain behind; whilst, accompanied by M Donald and the two young Powells, he struck off to the left for the purpose, Siatieanstalieanauen tne eemUmeneee ae 58 THE. BUSH RANGER; OR, Bale: judged: wisely: “The route he had «chosen being the suorter of the two, he reached the’ small salt-bush plain just in time to overtake the principal troop of the blacks, at: that moment emerging from the thickets. Had they succeeded in crossing this plain, they would have been perfectly safe: “We have caught them!” shouted the hardy bushman, exultingly rising in: his stirrups andybrandishing hisgun above his head—“ we have the whole gang.”) Having said this, he gave his horse the spurs, clear- ing the nearest bushes atone bound, and, troubling his head: but little whether the rest were following him or not, dashed in amongst the blacks, dismayed by the sudden and unexpected appearance of the enemy. They, however, soon formed their plan. Whilst the women and chil- dren kept running in the first direction, the men, brandishing their spears boldly advanced to receive their enemies, who were, indeed, inferior in point of numbers, but far superior in arms. dt was natural that the white men should let the women and chil- dren contitine their flight without hindrance, and that they should accept the proffered combat. Bale knew the ground. Calling upon the rest to follow him, his only aim seemed to be to cut off the retreat of the women and children from the woods. M’Donald and the two young Powells, on the contrary, caring little for the women and children, and scarcely heeding Bale’s command, rode boldly at the blacks, who’ had now suddenly halted. Bale understood the stratagem. A small ravine rendered it impossible for the horses to get near the main body of the blacks, who, as-soon as ‘these saw that the enemy had fallen into the snare into which they wished to allure them, and whence they: would have to make a great detour to reach them, disappeared with the quick- ness of lightning benind the ‘low bushes, and fled towards the protecting thickets. Bale alone outstripped them. Dashing through the midst of the terrified women, who scattered with loud cries, he succeeded in reaching the open space at the bottom of the sand-hill, before the blacixs. The latter, pressed on the other side by a greater danger, would not, of vourse, give way before avsingle white man. . They kept among a num- ber of low, but thick and entangled salt-bushes, before which the over- seer had stopped, whilst:two of them, slowly and silently crept. nearer, and, from a secure hiding-place, threw their short wooden spears. at the nder and his horse. «At the same moment.the overseer, goaded by blind fury, discharged-his gun, loaded with large shot, into the midst of the blacks, who answered the report with a howl of pain. His hotse, frigh- tened.at) the: noise of the» discharge, ‘reared, and, just as it showed. its breast above: the bushes, three spears struck it almost at the same in- stant, inflicting mortal wounds. ; The blacks uttered a shout of triumph, and rushed at the horse, which was rearing and plunging, mad with pain, and Bale had ‘the greatest difficulty in maintaining his seat, M’Donald. who had leaped the narrower part of the ravine, was Now coming to his rescue, and. at the uoise of his approach the assailants withdrew.. At that moment, the other party of ine stock-men appeared upon the other side. George and Williare wno had gallopded round the ravine, were now making up for lost timc, and advanced at full speed. ee —— ——— { a a ee THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 59: George was the first toarrive. Leaping to the ground, he fired! his gun loaded with ball, at random, in the direction in»which the/last blacks were retreating into the bush. Just as the report were heard, one of the natives sprang high: in the air, gave two or three bounds forwards, clutched at' one of the narey and then fell backwards upon the sand, “ Hurrah !” shouted William ; “that was a good shot. Lat us! ad. vance” With these words, he made his horse bound over: the: grouud tothe spot where the man had fallen; M’Donald kept closé at-his side.” A few of the blacks had separated from the. rest, ~probably anxious to remove the wounded man into the bush; but the horsemen were too close upon their heels to admit of this. ' Hurling their spears, which fell too short, or, from being hastily thrown, flew past them; they again ‘dis- appeared in the thicket. One dark form, reckless of the approach of the white men, riatib out from the shelter and bent over the dead body, ‘uttering loud) lamen- tations, At this moment Willliam’s horse missed its footing and fell, throwing its rider over its head. M’Donald turned round, and leaped out of the saddle ; but young Powell, full of activity, and accustomed to such accidents, was soon upon his feet. ‘Down with the black dogs ’ he exclaimed, putting ‘his gun to his shonlder. He fired atthe form which was bent over the. corpse. M’Donald stood near enough'to prevent the murder, and knocking: the barrelof the gun aside with his hand, exclaimed, indignantly— ‘Fie | shame on you, young man, to fire at a woman!” ‘©A woman !” cried William with amazement but what matters, the whole race must be exterminated, or else we ‘shall never be at peace.” © As he uttered these words, he capeauchied the ituaity and lobes threatening glance of M’Donald, and he turned away, half in shame and half in anger, to catch his horse; which had got up again. The female, however, a young girl—who had cast herself in wild despair upon the corpse of one of her kindred, seemed to feel herself safe, or - perhaps was indifferent to her danger in the deep soyow occasioned by her loss. In mute and bitter woe she buried‘her face upon the breast f the murdered man, all her limbs trembling with anguish and pon ae ént. George had ‘also hustened to the spot, in order to exathine his victim. As he approached the sad group, a very different feeling to that of tr umph crept over his heart; and in a low wiakyer, he asked, pointing to the corpse, ‘‘ Is he dead ?” « Your aim was oa" replied M’ Donald; re po“ he will steal no more sheep.” ** But there are jes. Did I kill two?” sical George; witht con sternation. ©] think so, although not with the same bullet. : This iniectaalfte being is a young girl, who bewails the death of ‘her ‘father or brother. But let us return and support the rest, or try, at least, to get the sheep back. Where is Mr. Bale ?” ee es ce ee a 60 THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, “« Here! he comes,”: replied) George,\in a broken voice, without raising his:éyes ‘from ‘the afflicted woman. At that moment two more shots.were heard in the bush. fouls “Moré blood !” exclaimed M’Donald, with a deep sigh. ‘‘‘More. and moré, until the breach between ‘the black and the white men gets, wider and wider. Can we wonder at their seekinga deadly revenge)?’ The other division almost; surrounded the first/thicket, in which some of the natives with’ the sheep, were. still: hidden. They could not ‘pene- trate) into, it with their hotses; and as they rode round it, the natives threw their spears at them, one of which slightly wounded the second stock-keeper on the thigh... This effected. the object they had in view, which was to gather the enraged white men on one spot ; and suddenly the greater number of the blacks darted out of the upper extremity of the thicket, , which was scarcely,a hundxed paces from the principal bush, driving the terrified sheep before them with loud criés.. Some of of the animals, eseaped right and. left; but the blacks succeedediin making! off with the greater number of them. The entaged, shepherds and stock-keepers dashed: towards: the spot in which they Wad disap, peared. ‘All they could do;was to fire their guns at the fugitives, One of their party had got separated from the: zest, or let the-right mo- ment for making his escape slip, The second-stock-keeper cut off his retyeat, and tried to knock him downs but failing in this, he leaped’ off his-horse.. | Before he could take aim, the: black raised his spear, ‘hurled it, and struck’ his:foe om the, breast, Fortunately for the latter, :it) hit the buckle, of a small leathern, bag: which ‘he, carried: slung over-his: shoulder, and tebounded.; As the black pursued his flight,. the whole eharge of a large:swan-shot:was lodged im his back, from ‘the distance of about twenty paces. The poor fellow ran four or five paces futther, : and then, with outstretched arms, he fell down, burying his face in the. sand, of aA. CHAPTER VII. RETURN OF THE EXPEDITION. Tue fight, with its excitement and fury, was over. The blacks had. taken refuge in the bush, ‘where the. white men) might, perhaps, have followed, certainly with: but little chance, of finding them);, so, that, fur- chen pursuit was! given up,as entirely useless, The men were busy look-. ing after the scattered sheep and driving them together—by no means an-easy task, for the animalsihad. become dreadfully shy and terrified. At last, those accustomed to this sort of work succeeded in collecting them together, and)aishepherd and a hut-keeper were told to drive them back to the station. . The; zest; of the party’ were to) pick up,.on their’ way home, | the slaughtered animals, and take as/many of then as possible upon their THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 61 ‘« What is to be done’ with the corpse?” said George, who seemed te have forgotten’ everything else, to M’Donald; indeed, he had only jus. ventured to approach the place where it-lay. “I suppose we must leave it with the girl,” replied the latter ; “ othe- wise, I should like to have buried it.” ‘Buried 1” éxelaimed Bale, just réturning with his saddle on his back, and in no friendly mood, on account of the loss of His horse. “Why should we plague ourselves about such black cartion! Let them go to thedevil, the black rascals’! The dingoes, their good friends’ and com rades, will know what to de with them.” ‘No, no,” ‘replied’ George, quickly ; “ihe bodies—at least, not this one,” he added, in a low voice—“ must not Be left to the beasts of prey. The thought would haunt me all my life: The poor wretchés have paid dearly enough; and they are’ men after all.” “Men? I'll bé hanged if I think so !” exclaimed the overseer. ““How- ever, you’ do as you like, I shall certainly rot move a finger. If I could exterminate them’ all at one blow, I would do's0,’ even at the risk of contaminating the air for a few months, and should consider I had done a good deed. The devil’ he suddenly exclaimed, throwing his saddle upon the ground, and raising his gun, ‘why,’ one of ‘the brutes is still alive 1” e “ Stop ”” cried M’Donald, stepping before him, “that is a woman “weeping over the corpse.” We'll save her the trouble,” replied the man, with’a fiendish laugh, maddened by the loss of His good horse. “This womaw is under my’ protection !” said M’Donald, firmly con- fronting the heartless man. ‘There has been enough blood shed to- day, and Mr. Powell does not wish that murder should be committed by those in his service.” ; 3 Bale flushed with anger he eould but with difficulty suppress, alinost unconsciously directed his gtin against the man’ who’ was. resisting’! his authority: “But the recollection of the events of the last ‘hour svon brought him to himself again, [t was M’Donald’ who, by’ his’ sudden arrival, had probably saved his life ; and this he had not’forgotten. °In spite of his apparent roughness; Bale was not only an’ honest and upright but also the kindest-hearted man imaginable, who ‘never’‘would have contemplated doing anybody the least wrong. , On this occasion he was extremely vexed at not’ having been able’ to punish the “ rascals” who had killed ‘his horse ; nor did he seem to think it'an’ extraordinary proceeding to endeavor to make some other member of: the tribe atone for it, even though that somebody might’ be a woman. ‘The:decided manner of ‘thé stranger towards him ‘did not please ‘him. Afterall, where did he come from, and who was he? At any other time this would have aroused his unbending spirit of resistances but he would not treat as an enemy the preservér of Miss Sarah, to whom he-was devoted with all his heart; at least, he could not do so, on ac- count of an insignificant black, and he made a violent effort ‘to stifle the anger rising in his breast: For a moment he met the cold, dark yaze of the stranger fiercly enoug’i ; then leaning on his gun, he said— & J fo rae 62 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, ‘ Well, let her go, if you think fit. I have to thank you for saving my lite. Were I to have my way, I know what I should do.” ‘Who will help me to bury the body ?” asked M’Donald. “J will,” said George, in a low, but firm tone. “Come, Mr. M’. Donald, let us put the poor devil under ground.” “Well, that is hardly worth the trouble,” the overseer observed, laugh- ing, as he carried his saddle to put it on William’s horse; ‘but men sike to, have their way.” The two white men approached the corpse, and M’Donald gently touched the girl upon the shoulder. ‘ Come, child,” said he, in a friendly tone, “ get up and follow your people ; you have nothing to fear. Werwill bury the body to keep off the dingoes and birds of prey.” The girl arose slowly, and looked with wild, fearful eyes from one to the other. The fluency with which the stranger spoke her language also, terrified her, At the same time she recognized the man who had twice stepped between her and the white foes. He could not mean evil towards her. With her hands stretched towards him, and in a confi- dent manner, she entreated him — “Oh, leave him tome: do not take him away. His grey head in red with blood, and his limbs are stiff. Let Pelyurko show him the honor which belongs to his age and rank.” ve “What does she say ?” asked George, in a hoarse voice; ‘‘ Does she accuse me of murder ?” “ No,” replied M’Donald ; “ she desires nothing but to be left alone with the corpse. I think it will be best to do as she wishes.” Come, sir,” said George, in feverish haste, ‘‘ Let us leave the poor woman alone; ‘‘ |—I cannot stand it.” “ Well,” asked Bale, laughing, when he saw the two men returning without having accomplished their purpose, “‘ is the burial already, over ? You can’t have had a very long funeral oration.” To this speech George returned no answer, but took the reins, jumped -nto the saddle, and dashed homeward, straight through the bush, as fast as his horse could carry him. Bale was watching him, when M’- Donald turned. round and said, in a friendly manner, “Tt seems to me that you are lame. I suppose you got hurt in your fall. If you have no objection, take my horse; I am a good walker and can easily get over these few miles. “Thank you, sir; thank you, very heartily,” replied Bale, fully ap- preciating the offer. ‘‘ You are too good, and I will not inconvenience you. I have already asked Master William to make one of those lazy shepherds get off his horse. 1 think he is coming already. After all, the shepherd’s don’t know how to sit a horse, and can get over the ground a great deal better on foot.” The whole party, now united, went round the thicket, collected as many dead sheep as the horses could carry ; and set forward slowly to- wards the Murray. Meantime Pelyurko sat still and motionless by the dead body of her father... Without complaint, without tears, with fixed glance, she. fok 4 THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 68 lowed the white murderers as long as she could see them; and, when they had disappeared in the bush, bent her eyes on vacancy. | Other eyes besides those of the mourning child watched ,the depax- ture of the,white,men. Out of the bush, and the patches of sharp prickly grass, glided two. forms,. glossy, with the, fat with which they had. covered themselves, and bent down, to raise’ the dead, body..) Pel: yurko did not disturb them in the performance of their duty. They were the young men of her tribe; and, with slow steps, aud her head hanging down, she followed the bearers. Further on,.tneir comrades were seen, carrying the other dead body into the bush ;, and for, full) an hour; an uninterrupted stillness reined in the wilderness, in) which sc recently the dread sounds of strife re-echoed. 4 Sudden, out of the bush, a loud wail, long and solitary, arose‘ pene- trating to the inmost recesses of the heart. When it had died away, the desert seemed to be as silent and desolate as. before, when again a wild chorus of women’s voices were heard, lamenting for the dead, in broken, trembling accents. The. wind ceased to whistle through the branches; the leaves no longer rustled,; the talkative birdsin the bush were. silent; and nothing was heard over the desolate waste but the trembling wail—the death lamen- tation for the slain and ill-treated children.of the goil. Meanwhile the stock-keepers drove the sheep homeward, The greater portion of the flock had been recovered from the blacks and the gang punished for their misdeeds, The shepherd Hendricks had been kept so busily employed the whole day, that he had not had a single moment to play upon his jews-harp —a thing which had not cccurred to him for years, He succeeded however, in getting the greater portion of his flock together; and when the stock-keepers brought back the animals. they had recovered, only about sixty were’ missing. The horsemen stopped at. the outer .station, and, Bale alighted to ex- amine the hurdles, as well. as to vent his rage upon the careless hut- ‘eepex, which he recollected he had scarcely had time to do in the mor- ning. Miller, however, expecting something of the sort, had left. the hut to take care of itself, under pretence of looking after the scattered sheep. Afraid, however, of losing his way in the bush, he had concealed. him- self in a small thicket at a very short distance from the hut, waiting un- til the overseer and his men should have taken his departure. When Bale entered the hut, hoping to find the lazy hut-keeper asleep as usual, which would have afforded him an additional excuse for be- ginning to storm at him, the stranger was in his,place, reclining ¢ozily upon the sheep-skins, and for want of tobacco, smoking dry leaves out ef a short, black, clay pipe. He had heard the horses coming, but did not think it necessary to leave the hut on that account. “ Well,.old fellow, you have taken possession of your new berth,” said the stock-keeper, casting a hasty glance round the place, and thus as certaining that the man he was looking for was not there. . “Has Hep dricks spoken to you about it ?” — ————— - _+ 64 THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, “ He mentioned something of the’ sort,” replied the man, puffing a thick cloud of the wretched and offensive smoke from him. ‘Want 'to dismiss the other, I suppose ?” “Of course ; the fellow is too lazy and idle to take care of himself, much less of other people’s sheep. It’s no use giving a fellow £20 to have him sleeping in the hut during the day, and by the hurdles at night.” ; ‘Twenty pounds is what you give ?” “ Yes, when we are satisfied ; green hands only get eighteen. I don’t think that you are one of that description.” “JT don’t think I am a green one ” was the reply, accompanied by a peculiar twitch of the mouth. ‘Where do you come from ?” “ From Adelaide.” “You know the ditties of the place ?” “Think so.” “Can you shear ?” “Shear, break horses; and am, moreover, a sort of sheep doctor.” “That's first rate,” said Bale. ‘ Most’ of the fellows who wander about the bush, and ‘offer themselves’ as shepherds and hut-keepers, scarcely know more of a sheep than’ it has wool, and can be eaten. Were you ever engaged anywhere near the Murray ?” “Yes: in Miranda, on the other side.” “ Well, you can remain here, and to-morrow morning’ I will send you word from the governor to confirm the engagement. Do you want any- thing else ?” . “J should think s0,” answered the man, looking at- him as if’ aston- ished at the question. ‘Do you suppose that one is in the habit ‘of wandering about the bush with pockets full of tobacco? This'is the ‘ast pipe, and the article seerns to be precious scarce here, too. Hen- dricks has already chewed my pocket because he has none left.” “Bale laughed. \ Very well; I will send you a pound of tobacco as earnest; and, as soon'as Miller returns, tell him to come to the ‘sta- tion.” “This evening ?” “ To-morrow morning, if he likes. I shall speak to Hendricks on the subject. Something must be done to the hurdles, Get up, if you lease, and I will show you what is required.” “My foot, sir, is not allright yet,” answered the man, rising’ slowly, -i compliance with the stock-keeper’s request. “T sce ; you have sprained your ancle. | Well, it is all right?” ‘Rather better to-day’; ‘only I must take care” 9) 0 The’ man had risen, and was trying the lame foot upon the floor. Meantime the overséer’s sharp eye had perceived something between the’ sheep-skins which ‘attracted ‘ns’ attention’ ‘Under the skins,’ part of a gun had become visible; and, without much ceremony, he approached, kicked the skins ‘aside, ‘and took hold of the'fire-arm, § “~- “Hem '!—a fine gun. Does it belong to you ?” asked the overseer, \ ee a isa ee ee THE HALF-BREED. BRIGADE. 65 pronouncing the you with a strong emphasis, and with an expreasion of astonishment which he did not seek to conceal. - * Yes, | am the happy possessor.” replied the man, evidently annoyed at the discovery, although he pretended to be quite indifferent, about it. “ By-the-bye, what is your name?” asked Bale, suddenly,‘' that 7 may know what to call you.” “My name— !—hem !” returned the stranger, with a laugh, some what disconcerted at the suddenness of the question, just as he was trying to invent a story about the gun; ‘“‘at home, they called me Toby.” ‘© And, elsewhere ?”’ “ Elsewhere ?” repeated Toby, casting his eyes on his interlocutor. ‘Well, as you say at home, 1 fancied that elsewhere. you. might have another name, or an alias ?” Toby laughed, and answered, shaking his head,— ‘No, I don’t like that. Toby is quite good enough, and has. long stood me in good stead. I fancy it wlll answer my purpose for the fu- ture too. My father’s name was Brown,” “ Consequently, Toby Brown, Esquire ?” “ Esquire, would sound after my name just as well as after that. of many another Brown or Smith,” said Toby.‘ But here we leave such terms,to swells. and other, people who receive and write letters. As long.as\l.am a servant | shall be ‘ Toby,’ if once 1 become my, own master, and have my own flocks and herds, I shall of:course, put, the ‘Master’ before.” r, a‘ Thank. you;” said Bale, laughing. The droll humor ofthe fellow had somewhat restored his temper. ‘ Where,” added he, “did you get the gun from, if 1, may ask?” nf "Hem! Your shepherd has. also been asking so anxiously,” replied Toby, knitting his brows, “as if a fellow could not pay for a decent gunj)just, as well as any of the swells, Instead of drinking .my wages, in.one of those accursed, bush taverns, I have bought this gun; The blacks in the bush are but too apt to rifle you of everything you have about you, if they take it into their heads,” : _.* Well, itis no business of mine. You understand me, then; when Miller returns, you will tell him, in case I should not ‘see Hendricks, to, come. tothe station to-morrow morning at the latest.” “Very well; but don’t forget the tobacco!” Bale replaced the gun agamst the wall, and went out, followed . by Toby, just, as M’Donald was approaching. “The devil!” exclaimed Toby, in. astonishment, entirely forgetting his lame leg, and starting back, ‘‘ why, there is an old acquaintance !” — iis Indeed! ! suppose you knew Mr. M’Donald in Miranda?” said RBI sal Mz, M’Donald.?-—certainly—and surely he can’t have forgotten old seven .strong, emphasis on the word, and fixing his: eyes upon enaig,, ; Sa a THE BUSH RANGER; OR, ‘“T ghould say not,” replied M’Donald, with a smile. “ Where did you come from, Zoby ?” ae WT Ae “From the down country, sir, looking for employment, and which I have ‘luckily found, ‘thanks to the black thieves. May I ask ‘since when you left the lower Murray, sir ?” A peculiar smile played round his lips as if amused at himself, but was immediately replaced by the former gravity of ‘expression. * Only a short time since, and am on my journey eastward,” answer- ed M’Donald. ‘It is very possible that 1 may break up ‘to-morrow Morning.” * All well at home, sir ?” “ Thanks,” replied M’Donald—“ our fate in Australia, scattéred in all directions. As you know, the station was broken up. Five have ob- tained permanent employment; the others are looking for work.” “And yourself, sir ?” ‘ “Tam looking cut for some fit pasture-grounds in the neighbor hood ?” ““A good place here, I think.” A “hope so, and also that you may stay, ‘and find it to your advan tage. I can tell you, Toby, I am heartily glad to see you here.” ‘Ves > if i can only settle down quietly,” answered Toby. '**T-have been before weil off at many a place, and yet must need go in search of a better one. But as we grow older we get wiser; and I suppose sense comes with years, as people say, so 1 may still hope. Cun I assiat you in anything ?” ‘No, I thank you,” replied M’Donald, moving away ; “ but,” added le} with a smile, “perhaps, I may be of use to you. How are you off for money ?” “ A check for twenty pounds, due this day year,” replied Toby, laugh- ing, “ but in other respects, as usual, empty pockets.” . “There is something wherewith to buy a few things you will want in your new position,” said M’Donald, throwing him a sovereign: ‘ With- out waiting for his thanks, and indeed Toby seemed to be in no hurry to’ acknowledge his obligation, he rode to join ‘the other stock-keepers, who were already preparing to return home. : ; oF “ You might just as well have thrown your money into a well,” said Bale, approaching M’Donald, at the same time giving his men a few orders. ‘‘ Money is of as much use to these men as a loaded gun is to a child—dangerous both to them and others.” “ Ho will take care not to be long exposed to the temptation,” said M’Donald, laughing. “After all, he can get nothing here in the bush but tobacco, and perhaps a little rum.” , . “That is true. Then you knew the fellow before; is he’ trust- worthy ?’” ‘ ‘ “| would answer for none of these bushmen,” replied M’Donald, n © giving a direct, straightforward answet. “Most of them have been con viets, and’I suppose Toby is no exception. He is reserved about his grevious history ; and of course one cannot tell by looking at’a man forehead what kind of a person he may be ?” an epee eer gee a re ae we sre — — a —— =e a oes —— pe ia ee Se a ee sos S THE HALE- BREED. BRIGADE. 67 “No, indeed : if such were the case, many of them would not he wandering at liberty through the bush,” said Bale. “T fancy Toby is no worse than the others; the less you trust these people the better.” At this juncture their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the party. Bale gave Hendricks a few orders, and soon aftex 2 portion of the small troop galloped towards the head\station, while the rest rode off to their various outposts. CHAPTER VIII. THE: BLACK, POLICE, ‘THE evening passed gloomily enough at Mr. Powell’s. Although the expedition against the blacks had been successful, Mr. Powell was by no means satisfied with the result, George did not show himself at the table; Mr. Bale, who shared the family meal, seemed to be vexed at the loss of his horse ; and William had not yet forgotten the lessen he had, received from their guest, and which, strangely enough, irritated him the more because he felt that. he had deserved it. Is not this often the case. with us in the world ? os The ladies also spoke but seldom. The blood which had been shed threw a dark yeil over the usually so cheerful circle, and they all broke up earlier than, common, Bale proposed thatthe careless hut-keeper should be at once dismissed, to which Mr. Powell of course, in his exci- ted mood, agreed, and thanked the overseer for having found another man.to take his, place, Miller was to be paid off on the following morning, and Toby installed in his office, : As for the blacks encaraped near the station, they had behaved very quietly all day, having been principally engaged fishing. Only a few of the young men had been sent out, Mr. Powell thought to observe what, was going on with the other tribe. Towards evening, these mes- sengers, appeared to bring some important news. The burkas, assem- bled, and a long and eager conference, to which Nguyulloman came down from, his hill, took place, Mr. Powell naturally thought it related to, the defeat. ofthe other. tribe, with which these blacks, whatever they might say,to the contrary, stood, no doubt, in closer intercourse than they were inclined to acknowledge. However, they had not helped to carry off the sheep ; and Mr. Powell did not wish to annoy them, and even ordered two of the slanghtered sheep to be given to them next morning, in.return for some fish they had brought in during the afternoon. Great, therefore, was the astonishment of all the people at the sta- tion.on. finding, on the following morning, the camp abandoned. The fires, were still smouldering, but it was evident that the whole tribe must have left at break of day. They seemed to have crossed the river, to which their tracks were traced; and on the opposite shore five or six ofthe: usual bark, canoes showed how. they had. got. across. Only one * ] | | | | Seite eaecitia te nat iaeapgiaasaagaaed a Sea eee “2 a = ee 68 THE BUSH RANGER; Of, fire was left burning’; only one gunyo was yet standing ; that of Ngu ulloman—on the sand-hill, and ‘the’ unfortunate ‘cripple abandoned bw his tribe, was sitting alone by his fire.’ Had the ‘natives’ fled” because they were afraid lest the white men, the report of whose guns they had perhaps heard, should treat them'as they had treated the! éthers’ the day before? How groundless in that case, was their fear!’ Tho” Girec- tion which they had taken seemed also to indicate that they’ had ‘noth- ing to do with the thieves, Sudden, indeed, must have heen’ their ftight, or they would not have abandoned this poor wretch to the mercy of the white man. From them he had, as he knew very. well, nothing to fear; and the ladies took a special interest in his welfare. They rejoiced at the prospect of being enabled, in some measure, to atone to him for the wrong in- flicted upon him by his own people. | Mrs. Powell herself proposed to visit, him, and assure him that he need fear neither want nor violence. ‘Tn order toenable him to receive ladies ina decent’ matiher, “Mr. Powell sent him one of the blue-and-white striped shirts’ usually worn by the laboring men. "He ‘put it on with evident satisfaction, although the wrong way, until assisted by the hut-keeper in his toifet. Neuyulloman’s reception of the ladies, who were accompaniéd by Mr. Powell and M’Donald, was cold and monosyllabic.’ He appearéd’ to’be much depressed and annoyed at the flight of his tribe, and’ anxious'as to the manner in which the white people would behave in cohsequeice. When ‘assured that he should receive his ration of meat’ daily until his people returned to fetch him, and When Mr. Powell, moreover, ‘added that he would take care ‘that he should -have plenty of wood for his fire, his reserve perceptibly decreased, and he became ‘more talkative. The latter promise turned out, however, to be unnécessary, as’ shortly after a little fellow, between eight or ten years old, came out of ‘the bush with alot of dry wood for his fire. The natives had at least taken care to supply him with the necessary fuel- jul af As régarded the departure of the tribe, he professed to know no mote than the white men themselves. He'said the burkas ‘had ‘kept’ their inténtion secret until they broke up. Separated'as he was ‘from their camp, he naturally enough could ‘not tell what they had “planned ° to- ether. - The probable cause of their departure did riot, however, long rerfiain a mystery. The party were still standing by the solitary gunyo’ on’ the top of a hill, whence they could command an extensive view over the low valley of the river, when they saw a cloud of dust rising'in the’ dis- tanee. arid immediately after a troop of horsemen came in sight. ' «What is that ?” exclaimed M’Donald, first perceiving the approach of the strangers, with surprise. “Can they be cattle-dfivers' taking their cattle to market at a time when there is a scarcity’ of grass?” ; “No,” ‘said Mt. Powell, “ perhaps itis a new squatter settling ‘on''the Murray; but Ican only distinguist horses Are “your'eyea’ better, Mana ve baoud 38 Vist OTe ‘Neghyulloman had long noticed the new-comers nay, if his gueste had observed him attentively, they would have séen’that*he had’ expect Cte pe gk ae a - 6 th ar, ov i THE HALP-BREED BRIGADE. 69 ed them'the whole morning, for he sat with his face turned in the di- rection in which they first appeared, and his looks, ¢ven while he spoke, were seldom taken from the spot. . “They are’ only horses,” replied the black, poking his fire, and look ing from the new comers to his visitors. “And drivers with them ?” ‘‘ A man upon each.” ‘All horsemen? That is scarcely possible. Why, where can they come from, or what is their destination ?” ‘ “ They are blacks,” he replied, pointing in the direction in which they were visible, and adding with maledictions in his own language, “ blacks who sold themselves to the white men, in order to hunt their own brethen.” eer eae ; “The black police '” exclaimed Mr. Powell, with astonishment. “I have often heard of them, but never saw, and still less expected them on the Murray. If they had come but one day sooner,” he added, with a deep sigh, “ they would have spared us many a sad remembrance, | should like to know what can bring them into this part of the country, unless they are making a tour of inspection along the banks of the Mur- | ray, and wish show the blacks that, in case of necessity, they are at hand.” , : “J thank God they are here said’ Sarah. Their presence, will, I nope, prevent any further attacks from the blacks, should they. entertain the idea of avenging yesterday’s deeds.” ; ‘opm _ “My dear child,” said Mr. Powell, calming her apprehensions, '“‘ we should not have any reason to fear, even were they not here. We are quite strong enough to brave the largest, tribe of the blacks, if they in- tend attacking us. But they not intend anything of the sort, and we need not alarm oursélves in this respect. © : “T do not know,” returned the girl. “ There has been such a weight on my breast since yesterday! I did not wish to give you uneasiness, and therefore said nothing about it; but the forebodings of some great misfortine hurig about me. With such’a remforcement I feel quite at my ease, and I hope all will pass off well. Don’t you. believe so too, Mr. M’Donald ?” “Yes, Miss—I—hope so,” replied the young man, uneasily. “Then you entertain similar apprehensions ?” exclaimed Sarah, quick- Jy, and With an’ expression of alarm. "'«'No,” replied M’Donald, turning his eyes from the new comers. ° “I suppose thése’men will stop here ; shall‘we go down and have a look at them, Mr. Powell ?” rise ; “Certainly. Nguyulloman, send your boy to the house; he shall have meat for both of ‘you, although I am not now inclined to think,” he added, with a smile, turning to his party, “that it is from fear, that our black neighbors ran away. These fellows are troubled with bad con- sciences, and they are said to stand in special dread of the black police.” Having said this, he descended the hill, followed by the whole of the Srey Reson ri eae neg ee e a BHR said ’Lisbeth, laughing, and taking his arm, “ you should ts R i epee a a eee tee 70 THE BUSH RANGER;' OR, not have let the black, cripple know that you were not aware of. the coming of the black police ; just think, how they would stand in awe of you, if they thought that assistance came the moment you fears tb” “As you are so wise, my child,” replied her father, with a.smile, “ why did you not give me the hint before? Of course, that would have been the most prudent plan.” : 3 Tt did not strike me before,” answered Lisbeth, laughing. “And that was just the case with me,” Mr. Powell observed gaily. ““ You have become very grave, Mr. M’Donald,” said Sarah, as they descended the hill. The individual thus addressed was walking silently at her side. Her mother had hastened into the house, to give out rations for the blacks, who would naturally expect some refreshment. “Grave! and did you ever see me otherwise ?” * ‘Oh yes, indeed,” answered Sarah, blushing slightly. ‘When you game here for the first time you were very different,—full of spirits and humor, nay, almost to excess.” “We grow older, and gravity comes with years.” ‘Not with these years, I hope.” replied Sarah, with a smile; “ that would be too soon, and we must not appear old before our time. But what is the matter with your foot ? You are lame. I hope you were not wounded yesterday ?” she added, with anxiety, “‘No—no,” replied the young man, at the same time acknowledging the kind inquiry with a grateful look. ‘It is only a trifle. As we were riding very fast, I struck my foot against a fallen tree, and now it hurts me. J think there is a boot-store at the station, and a larger pair. will | soon give me ease.” , aid __ “ By-the-by, M’Donald,” said Mr. Powell, stopping, and turning to- wards the young man; “T have a favor to ask of you—or rather a. pro- posal, for if you do not like to agree to it, 1 should not endeavor to, per- suade you to do so.” aoe “ Anything I can do for you——” “Nay, make no promises beforehand. I only wanted to ask whether you would part with your grey ?” mt oe My grey 9” eg “JT know it is a good horse; but horses change owners, and I will tell you why I want the animal. I have plenty of horses myself; but Mr. Bale lost his yesterday, and I feel convinced that I could not, please him better than by giving him the grey. Name. your price—that is, if you feel inclined to part with him: I have no doubt. we shall easily come to an agreement.” “I think so, too,” said M’Dovald, smiling. The grey is a good horse ; but L like your bay I rode yesterday and the day before, just as well ; and, if it suits you, we will make an exchange.” es a “Tn that case, you will be the loser by it.’ Li ha li “T do not think so; he jumps beautifully, and is just the sort of horse for the bush. J shall be perfectly satisfied with the,exchange.” ‘« Well, if you are, so am I,” replied Mr. Powell, “ and am moreover extremely obliged to you for your kindness, The bay is yours, then, and the grey mine,” Ce SS SO ee ee ee ee THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. AL “ And so the affair is concluded,” added M’Donald. “That is what I call making a bargain quickly,” Sarah observed, cheerfully; ‘ and I am sure it will be a great surprise for Mr. Bale.’”’ “T think he is going to his station to-day ?” said M’Donald. “To his station? No,” replied Mr. Powell : “he is going to leok out for some cattle we have long missed the traces of, which one ‘of: the eattle-tenders says he discovered lately in the neighborhood.’ ‘Perhaps he may be fortunate enough to find them at once ; perhaps it may take him a whole week. I only detained hirn'in order to speak to you ‘about the horse. “It is very possible you may not see your grey for a’ good while ”” , “T hope, in that case, the bay will answer my purpose equally as well.” The conversation was here interrupted by the clatter of the hoofs of the horsemen, who were turning round the corner of the fence, just as the two gentlemen reached the open’ space before’ the house. At'the same time, Miller, Mr. Powell’s late hut-keeper, arrived at the station from the opposite side, and approached his master with an embarrassed air. He knew very well that, according’ to law, and the ‘terms of his agreement, he was not entitled to one penny of his wages, as the value of the sheep lost through his neglect, might be deducted therefrom’; and he was, moreover, in his master’s debt for many little things required in the bush. It depended entirely on Mr. Powell’s liberality whether he gave him anything; at any rate, he was firmly resolved not to ask for a farthing. For the moment the settler’s attention was too much attracted by the black cavalry to notice the hut-keeper, who waited at a respectful. dis- tance. They were, indeed, a wild troop—the terror of th bushranger, which each man of the band seemed to lnow, and of which all were proud enough, | At their head rode a sergeant, a white man, dressed in ‘a sort of blue light dragoon uniform—a short jacket, trousers with red ‘stripes down the side, a light foraging cap, a sabre by his side, pistols in the holsters, and a carbine. He was followed by his black squadron, keeping neither order nor rank, but riding in great confusion. They were about sixteen strong, aildressed alike. A small minority of them seemed to have be- come so far civilized as to wear a cap: but all stood barefoot in their stirrups. Their long hair streamed wildly over their ‘shoulders, and their large, black, glittering eyes watched everything they saw. Some of them had spurs buckled’ on their bare feet, while others used a short, strong riding whip, suspendéed round the wrist by a leather strap: Most of the troop had pistols, and all ‘were armed with sabres. The troop looked very curiously as they rode ‘past the forsaken encampment of their countrymen and perceived the forms of the two natives left be- hind. The sergeant could easily distinguish the master of the station among the company, and waving his hand to his troop as a signal to halt, he uickly advanced towards Mr. Powell. When within twenty ipaces, he mide a military salute, jumped from his horse, threw the “bridle over bis arm, and, approaching Mx, Powell— = * > i i — 7 THE. BUSH RANGER ; OR, “ T have the honor to.speak to Mr. Powell?” he asked, with his hand still touching his cap. ; “That is my name,—You and your men are heartily welcome,” was thd hospitable answer... ‘I hope you are not engaged in such severe and hasty duty as to. be obliged, to leave the station immediately.” “ Thank you, sir, no; on the contrary, I have orders to encamp in the neighborhood until our lieutenant, who has remained behind,. joins us.” ; “So much the better. Your,men shall get what they require; and I suppose it will not be a violation of your duties for you to take, up your quarters at my house.” j The sergeant acknowledged the hospitable offer with a slight bow. “ What is the name of your officer ?” “ Lieutenant, Walker.” “Indeed! An old acquaintance, then, if I mistake not. Do you not remember Lieuteaant Walker of Sidney,” added he, turning to. his daughter, ‘‘ who once accompanied us in:a trip to Paramatta ?” “ I think I do,” replied the beautiful girl, and a slight, blush covered her cheeks for an instant; but it disappeared as quickly as it, came. “ As far as 1 can remember, he had then just entered the force.” “ You are quite right, Miss,” said the sergeant, “ He afterwards dis- tinguished himself in an affair with a desperate gang of bushrangers, and received a medal and a commission of first lieutenant.” “We shall be glad to have the pleasure of seeing him again,” said Mr. Powell. “ But pray get your men into their quarters. You seem to have had a long ride ;, the horses look very tired. May I ask whi- ther you are bound ?” sl “That is no secret,” replied the sergeant. “A small band-of bush- rangers, in the swamps of the Hindmarsh, under a, very enterprising leader, have been commiting numerous depredations. We have scat: tered this band, and taken, most of them prisoners. The remainder _ were.driven into the bush, where they, were probably surrounded by the white mounted police, and put out ot harm’s way. Very likely their chief was among them. But some—particularly two, the very worst of criminals, transported for life for the most heinous offences—fled northward into the bush, and it is possible, although unlikely, that they may cross the desert, and reach the Murray. To prevent that, a recon- naissance has been ordered along the Murray, to put the settlers upon their guard, in case these men should, after all, make their appearance. At present, they. are still in the malley-bush, unless the blacks have done us, the kindness to rid the colonies of these plagues of human society. Has anything happened about here, sir?” . We had a slight skirmish yesterday with a gang of blacks, whe broke into our yards , but I will tell you all about it presently. Pray gee that your men are made comfortable ; perhaps they will be able to make use of the camp abandoned by the tribe only this morning ; the gunyoes are still there. I fancy your men scared them away.” “Very possibly,” replied the sergeant, laughing, ‘‘ They have a most awful respect for my black fellows, and generally retire into the bush, whenever we come near, I shall avail myself of your kindness.” | i THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 73 * One of my sons will give you the necessary provision. The blacks have taken care we should have plenty of meat on hand,” ee 86 much the better; at least, we can turn it ito account;” said the” soldiét, laughing, and with a polite bow to Mr. “Powell “and his’ ‘com- pany, he remmounted’' and returned to his troop, to’ lead them off to their * quarters. ; George, who had come to look at the new-comers, at a sign from’ hie» father, accompamied them, to show where to put the horses for’ ‘the night, : “t As soon as the blacks had seen their steeds properly provided ‘for, they set’ about preparing their own camp. They made use of the sheets: of bark which their countrymen had left behind ; but the old encampment did not suit them. Exactly as the wolf-dog would not choose the same” spot on which his ancestor, the wolf, had reposed, so did these degener: ate, scarcely halfcivilizéd children of the wilderness despise the rest- ing-place of’ their countrymen ; nay, they even moved’ away with ‘dit’ gust from the remains of the old encampment. They carried the bark’ some distance from the previous camp; but, on account of the water, close to the river-side. Pate : ; Strangely enongh, the black tribes had no more bitter or dangerous enemies in the whole extent of the Australian’ continent than this black police. These, however, form no exception to a rule prevalent’ in all nature, and under the most different conditions.. The negro is hated, and ‘whenever opportunity offers, persecuted, by no race’so much as by the mulatto, in whose’ veins the same blood flows; the Christians, de- ' scended from the Jews, are almost always the most bitter enemies ‘of the latter’;’ among the heathen tribes, none behave with so much vio- lence: and ctuelty towards them as those! of their own’ who have been convéfted. ‘Even in the animal kirgdom the'same law holds good: ‘The’ wolf) for instance, has no more ‘terrible enemy than his bastard son, the violf-dog: "Why do things happen thus? ’Who'can tell? “Phus it was with these blacks, most of whom had entered the force with ‘no other ° object than that of getting a horse, arms, and plenty to eat. They were wever happier than when let loose upon one of toe native tribes} ‘and’ few white men would have dared to practise such ‘cruelties ag these © aborigines inflicted upon their fellows. : Bngagell as’ they were, for the present, in a sort of friendly mission— since’such a reconnaissance Could scarcely be corisidered anything more’ than a pleasant trip through the forest—they pave themselves up’ en- tirely' to that which constitutes » native’s highest enjoyment—plenty to eat and nothing to do. “ As soon as the camp was formed, and fuel’had” been’ gathered for the night. part of them sat at thé fire, chattiig ‘and’ laughing, whilst’others sauntered about the station, and at last went te” Nguyulloman to pay him a'visit, Some of them were, no doubt, acquaint- ~ ed Wwith’this strange being)’ °° 9?” It was curious to see how carefully they noticed everything that came” x their way. Not a horse, not a head of cattle, escaped their keen ~ scrutiny. First of all, they invariably examined the ‘“ brand,” and some: times compared it with others which they drew upon the sand. = SNE SOE oc, a ea 4 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, Three or four of them would then gather round such a rough sketch, shattering and gesticulating with the greatest animation, until some- thing else attracted their attention. From old habits, they particuiariy noticed the various foot-tracks, here crossing each other in all directions, although few of them could be clearly made out. Some they meagur- ed with their fingers and knuckles; and they were farticularly delight- ed at,seeing the small foot-prints made by the ladies. Nguyulloman received the visit with all the dignity naturally belong ing, to the sole representative of his tribe. This did not, however, pre- vent him from begging, without ceremony, some tobacco. To their questions, he only vouchsafed laconic and evasive answers ; and when they at, last insisted upon knowing where his tribe had gone, he com- plained bitterly at their leaving him to the mercy of the white man, without eyen.a piece of resin or anything else to eat. Their destination they. probably did not know themselves. They might have gone to hnnt wallobies; and he declared that he thought it likely they would be back on the morrow or the day after. One of them invited him to their camp. At first he excused himseif, and was. only with great difficulty prevailed upon to accept of the invi- tation. It was evidently an effort on his part, and he went very slowly, sony occasionally and groaning. At last they left him to follow alone, and at his leisure. These blacks wore the sabre as long as they were on duty. Many no doubt, unaccustomed to its use, found it but an inconvenient weapon ; although it flattered their vanity to hear it tattling at their side. Many of them carried for their private use the boomerang—a flat, curved piece of wood, which returns to the place from which it is thrown. They used;this,as a weapon in their fights with “ rebellious’ blaeks, as yell as, in, the forest, against wallobies and opossums, which the black ‘po- lice pursued with just as much eagerness as they did escaped criminals or dangerous aborigines. : Fiye or six of them set out to look for some booty of the sort, which they, hoped to find in the neighborhood, whilst others went. to the river to fish, Is was a curious sight afforded by those dark forms, with their blue jackets and trousers, bareheaded and barefooted, stealthily and si- lently standing by the river-side or creeping through the forest, examin- ing the barks of the trees in order to discover traces of opossums, and the ground for the tracks of the wallobies. The, sergeant left his men to their occupations, certain of their obedi- dience.; He had only to appoint the time and place for their yetuin, and he: was satisfied they would be punctual. Their own natural tenden- cies would induce them not to let any opportunity slip offered by their leisure to examine everything that occurred in the environs. Like so many well trained hounds, they scoured the country in all, directions, and saw no foot; trace, no cattle with a different brand, escaped theis searching eyes, 90 i bs =a Ss Bo THE HALF-BREED RRIGADE. 5 CHAPTER. IX. DEPARTURE AND ARRIVAL. Wuitst the majority of the newly arrived frontier fuards: was thus occupied, a few of them remained in the camp to examine the arms. They vainly, endeavored to extort anything of interest out of Ngityillo- man. Either the cripple really was. ignorant.of the route.of his tribé, or he was cunning enough to conceal. it... Meanwhile Miller-had yap- proached the squatter, and been dismissed from’ his service. (19 “Ah! You are the hut-keeper of the dry swamp, are»you: not” inquired Mr. Powell, who was too good riatured to receive the «mdu‘un- courteously. Indeed, he was already sorry at giving his! assent to’ his dismissal, : “| was,” replied Miller, quietly ; and I am truly sorry, Mr. Powell, that my negligence should have caused you to suffer a logs,” “ Perhaps ?” ; lieg “ After all, if I had been awake, said Miller, with a shrug ‘of his shoulder, ‘' I could have done nothing against the swatm, of savates ; and, perhaps had a spear run through into the bargain: | I:admit I'am ur fault, and [ only hope you may be more satisfied with the new man than you have been with me.” ott 3 ‘Go to my son,” said Mr. Powell ‘wishing to put an end ‘to the’con- versation, ' and get your wages. You have been withime about tenior twelve months,” agerheg vee “If you deduct the value of the sheep that were lost, there will be little remaining,” Hoeccid I do not intend todo that”. In God's name, receive your wagesiin full; but at the same time let this be. a w»ring to you'to'be more careful in the next situation than you haye ? «i:| “here. Where do you mean. to go?” a SEUOL dt ol " To Adelaide.” ‘Have you any acquaintances there 2” oe Acquaintances? No,” replied Miller, in a low voice; but! a fa- mily.” é j it i oF ‘‘ A family ” exclaimed Mr.. Powell, with surprise. ., “ Do you really mean to say that you are married ?” t bus olds “| have a wife and child.” Mr. Powell shook his head. ute “ And you have been all this time in the bush, and never, at léakt to my knowledge, have sent them a line, nor received letters from them? I cannot understand that,” ; ge" “I former times, I should perhaps not have understood it eithér)” 16 plied the German, gloomily:; « but here, in the bush, one seems dead to everything else. Perhaps,” he added, half aloud, and as ifispeaking to himself, ‘‘ 1 may become another man yet.” : The wild and peculiar expression on the countenance of this man: ae he uttered these words quite struck Mr. Powell. “ Pray, what profession did you follow before you came’to Australia” #1 ‘ & FT TEN BIE Se 2 Se —ee 6 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, he inquired. “ I believe you have not been many years in the colonics.” Miller smiled bitterly ; and after a short pause he said— “JT was a fool not to:know*when Iwas ‘well off. I have atoned for my fault, both I and ; but these are old stories, and many a one who» now lives in ‘the bhalis in his ‘tattered clothes.'might tell similar ones,” © olif*Most. of us have: been thoughtless invyouth, and’it‘is well when ‘we Jet:these early follies) bea warning’ tous. I have'no’ intention of deal- ing severely ‘with you, nor’ of reproaching you with the past. “It is over, and no»more need be said about it Do you ‘intend: going to Eee laide alone. cs'ST dave novchoice,” replied Miller: i Ido not:think there is any:dangerat:present, while the. blaék’ 'po- ve are near the river. Even the solitary pedestrian will not be stopped or plundered bya daring: tribe. If you are afraid to go, I will not send you away. Youcan remain here atthe station’ until you find: company, or, perhaps, part of the black police will return there. Until'then you sare my guest, and-one of /the shepherds’ shall take you into his’ hut.” vot Ma, Powell,” said the German, scarcely able to master his: feelings, ewhich séemed tobe those of emotion and shame, “ I'thanl you: heartily foryour friendly offer, | but, I must not/abuse your kindness.” “The other men would despise me as a useless hand—the overseer hates’ me asitds.) «Accept my most heartfelt thanks for your geiierosity'; be as- sured I, feel: your kind: treatment of the. stranger more deeply than you may perhaps think. I shall never forget it. ” od Hervmade}a movementias if to take his master’s hind: but ‘checked himself, saluted him respectfully, and went towards the ‘house 'to’ receive shisowages,. They were at on¢e paid to him by George Powell; and he ethen went; to the store to buy; some tobacco, and a’ pair of new boots, which he»required for his long: journey. In the storehouse stood M’Donald, who was also trying on» a! pair “of boots he had just bought. “ They are far too ‘large for you,” saidthe youngest Powell, Ned who libually iaanagedythe concerns of the storehouse. and. helped’ his ‘father te keep the books. ith donot thinkoso,? replied the guest. Lt like boots to be comfort able, and these fit me.” “They will rub your. skin off; you had: better take: a, sinkllet number.” ¥ hes Jd shall try shoe Ah; Miller, you are ‘going’ to leave ‘the ‘star ction 2? ik ant v oP] “Tam. Will you, Mr. Powell, have the ishrbad to let me "have a pound.of tobacco, anda pair of good bish-boots:?”” sOL110 ; it Cheose.a pair, and herevis a pound of :tobacco.” » {How much is it:?” “ You will find the pe of ‘every ‘article marked on that soaid Cam you! tread 2 » “A little,” replied Miller, as he. heii up’ stp the board, aon which the price of every article was marked. eke Se, Pe ne Pee ee oe F oo te 3, rf rh 1° hh THE HALE-BREED BRIGADE . le ‘Hus the ration-waggon gone out?” M’Donald asked the young shopman;’ while: Miller was examining the: list'of prices. i No, it will start about noon ; butif you) have any suoinianitd Mr: Bale is going to: ride oxt, antl if I mistake’ not, hetis eee his horse.”’ i «Will he pass by the sheep-station ? ” “Yes; she has just fetched -a: pound: of SSS fot the new huts keeper.” “Tt :was? mere ouridsity jal ‘will; however, see hin off; «ob should like to know how: he likes’ the grey,” «Then you will have'to make haste. {Tedocnmst shat he will a the houses: Indeed the boots ‘are too large for: you.” “Oh,:by no means... They fit. me peepheily, and are ‘quite comfort ableio Well, I shall look out for him’? Miller placed the money for the «boots asi Vabanba on the wsoniery and was about to say good-bye and leave the store- house, when ‘Ned said—= » is bsal «Do you itera to: zo down the river’? y ‘“Tithink :so;” replied:he: » “ Farewell !” Bie, Yeni—2y « Stop, take:a glass\of' something before you ‘go.’ Yous-will ‘have to walla‘ good distance before you can get anything.’ At ithe lie time hefetched:a bottle, and poured out half.a tumbler oficogniac.’ ** Thank you, Inever did: drink brandy;” replied Miller.: At the same time, however, he‘cast’a longing glance at the glass in which the: darks brown liquid sparkled most alluringly. * Well, it won’t-do you any° harm ; you haveva long journey ial fore! you,” said the young athaed good+ -naturedly. it eiaposet nae _ paidiyou 2): 0": “To the last penny. He is'a man of hioner. «Well; drink this to his health, then; and 1 wish youa pleasant ni prosperous journey.” « Miller approached the table, dik the ese held it a/moment to, the light, and drawing a deep'sigh, before he set it to his lips;! sour it at one draught, Ned fancied that Miller’s eyes grew moist, as hei shook the young man heartily by the hand, and hastily left the station.» On arriving at ‘the . last fence, where the bush commenced; ‘he: stopped, looked back’ once more, and then proceeded'on ‘his long:and ‘solitary journey.’ The’ bush had’scatcely~closed upon him, whehone of the black police force °crept out from a thicket in: which he had'been concealed, gazed after him) and théeti carefully examined. his: foot-marks: ‘This seemed fully to satisfy hima, and, without looking back, he struck out:on the broad track ‘whieh led! to ‘the Station. Milter ‘had not noticed the islidw, nor would we) in wall probability, have paid any attention-to: him ifshe had. happened. to catch a: glance of hii. “Absorbed in his own mot very: cheerful thoughts he’ quietly: pursued his journey, until he had arrived at’a pretty considerable dis: tanéé from the station, ‘and)‘reached a:small:open space: ‘commanding a view of the river, //Then he: threw: the: smallibundle~in:-which *heseam eet eiNls ee 8 THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, ried some linen and clothes, as well as his woollen blanket, upom tha ground, sat.down under a gum-tiee, aud, with his hands folded on his right kriee, stared for awhile fixedly and silently before him. “This must change,” he muttered at last. ‘This sort of life must have an end—for myself, my wife, and my child. Good God! to what have I been teduced?,. ‘A dismissed hut-keeper, owing his wages only to the generosity and pity of a stranger. And my wife! Brought) up in splendor and Inxury, she is now wasting her life in sorrow and/misery in a foreign land! Good God! To what has this accursed drink, and my frightful, ‘horrible!recklessness, led. me,? But it must change,—it must.” He buried his face in his hands, and threw himself upon the ground, to. cool his burning brow in the sand. In a few minutes:he rose, again, and pushed the damp hair off his pale face. . It seemed as if another and),more, peaceful, spirit’ had come over him; and tears relieved his heatt., “ ] will lead a better life,” he continued, in a low and resolute voice. “It is not yet too late; I may still at least make some amends for my wrongs—my sins. My wife will forgive me ; and with the small cap- ital-which J.can now . call my own, I can, I must begin something. I am healthy and strong, I will work ; I -willemploy my mental powers, my physical ones, if that should be necessary. There is always.a de- mand for industrious workmen in Australia; and what others:can do, Iymust.': Australia is a young and flourishing country, When, by in- dustry and perseverance, I have again risen to the rank which I have lost, J, may return to my native land, to my home.—To my home !” ‘he repeated, sadly; and it seemed as if at the thought, of what he had lost—what he had thrown away—a bitter, a deep sorrow seized upon him. But he soon shook it off. Good, intentions seemed to give him strength, He wiped the tears from his eyelids, and lifting his pack and blanket from the ground—(his goods and chattels were not heavy. to caxry)—-he xesumed jis journey through the forest, and with quick and firm, steps hastened towards the west, his new goal. ; The sergeant had in the meantime obtained from Mr, Powell a list of. all-his,people, with their ages and names. The information, how- ever, led to no satisfactory results. Most of the men had been at) the station’ three or four years, and were well-behaved, honest fellows,. The man! who'had Jeft that very day was a German, going to Adelaide, and ~ Culloch, the sergeant, had seen him himself. Only one new hand, was on the station, Mr. Powell knew nothing about this man, and Mr. Bale, who might have given some information, had left on business, and was not expected to return'for some days. Mr. Powell recollected that, Bale told him Mr. M’Donald had met man before. To the sergeants in- quixies: about! him, M’Donald rep... that for some time the man called ‘Toby -had'been under hisorders at a'station on the Murray, and that he: was satisfied. with him; He had been, obliged to leave on account of'a fight. witha shepherd. , *Bah!?exclaimed the sergeant, laughing; ‘‘ if that is all, there is not.much /harm’’—apparently quite satisfied. on the subject. Upon more mature reflections, he nevertheless determined, without saying anything THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. a about, it, upon sending,one of his black fellows to havea look at the man. On the arrival of his lieutenant, he must be prepared to give him a faithful account of everything, and he was accordingly ‘anxiouw that nothing should be left undone. The conversation turned upon horses. and cattle, the form of the neigh boring settler’s brands, which the sergeant carefully noted in his book, Sarah grew tired of this, and walking up to M’Donald, who was lean ing, against the window listening to the conversation, she said “ If you do not feel a very particular interest in the different’ brands under. discussion, and if, as [ hope you are, indifferent whether this on that stray cow has a horn more or less crumpled, and this or that stra horse a larger or smaller white star on the forehead, I shall be obliged if you will accompany me to the river-side. I should like to get per- sonally acquainted with this black Police, of which I have heard’ so many strange adventures... Perhaps Lisbeth will go with us ?” “LT cannot, Sarah,’’ her sister replied; ‘‘ you know I am housekeeper this, week, and I have;so much to do and attend. to.” ‘‘ Well, we must go.alone, then,” Sarah answered, laughing, and tak- ing hold of the, arm gladly offered to her. ‘“ With such an escort, I am sure I shall have nothing to fear !"" ‘ With an elastic step, the beautiful girl walked by the side of her com- panion over the open space around the houses. ‘They proceeded in the direction of the camp, where the blacks had again assembled to receive the provisions sent from the station, as well as to prepare the game they had obtained in the chase. ‘What a strange people they are !” Sarah remarked, as they walked slowly between, the bark huts and the blacks, “They will always be wild-as long as they life, in spite of the uniform.” oo ‘‘ What astonishes me. most,’ said M’Donald, “is, that they cannot ‘sonsent to confine themselves in these tight clothes. From what I had ‘heforeiseen, of them, this, seemed to me to be the greatest obstacle to their adopting a civilized sort of life.” “Father has often, tried to reclaim them, by giving them good’ and re gular food. I only know of one instance of a black who could be per: #uaded to keep the sheep three or four months, and at the expiration of that time he gave it up too,” “ Still there are black shepherds here and there on the Murray.” ‘They are exceptions to the general rule; then,” replied Sarah. “We once tried it with tue girls. We took them quite young, and they offered no objection to being dressed, and they did all their work with great punctuality , but as.soon as they had attained a certain age, they could not be restrained, threw off everything we had given them, and réttirn- ed to the bush, and were never seen again.” They had now passed the camp, and they walked some distance down the river. Sarah looked back towards the blacks. ‘“Observe how carefully they are examining our tracks,” she gaid, laughing, ; “they seem to take more interest in our foot-prints than in our persons.” “ They consider us only as game, and nothing better, If they were f q f ee Se — 80 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, ever set_upon our tracks, for whatever cause, they would ‘follow’ them with as much eagerness and certainty as the bloodhound does his Vic- tim; indeed, man is the most cruel, merciless ‘creature ‘under thé’sun. The, animal at least spares its master, and only kills when in-need of prey ;..but man pursues and kills frequently only for the sake’ of pleasure 7a whim, the excitement of the moment.” “You.are certainly right,” Sarah replied, with a sigh ;’ and)’ she added,. with a smile, ‘‘ 1 would not, on ‘that very account marry a hunter.” : ff Weare all hunters,” ‘replied -M’Douald, : thoughtfully > ‘* some ‘in pursuit of this, some of that—all hunters or prey in “this life; and, indeed, it is difficult to distinguish the one from the other.” “ Nor.do I approve of what pegple call chasing in “another sense,” said Sarah. .“‘ In the colonies in particular, men’ are ‘always in eager pursuit of gain, and nothing else ; they neither care for life ior health, so that their flocks and herds’ incrédse.’ Capital -produces''capital, and purse and coffers aie filled. And with very little could we, if we chose, be happy! » All we want is to reach a step upon the ladder higher than that on which God has’ placed'us.., And how very unjustly we act in doing this. , I, for instance could be happy with so little.” . And are you not happy, Miss Sarah?’ asked M’Donald.: ‘* Do you not find in your family all that the heart of a child can want?” ““T will not be unjust, and fall into the failing which I) have’ just censured,” Sarah answered, with a smile. “ Yes, I am happy now—-at least, I should consider it a sin to say | wanted anything ; but I feel un: easy that father should have come to such a wilderness only to ‘procure wealth for his children. I am uneasy that my brothers should not’ learn what civilization requires, and’ that’ which their eager’ mind is‘so fit to receive.. I am, moreover, uneasy that daily they should be exposed to ‘one danger or another, when, with moré moderate wants, we might live so quietly and peaceably on some smaller estate in our’own*home, to which, our heats cling, after all,” _. During this conversation; they reached the bank of the river; perhaps three hundred paces distant from the camp of the blacks. ‘ What a beautiful scene” exclaimed M’Donald, as’ they lingered at this-lovely spot and contemplated it for a few minutes. » “How happily might life pass away in peace and quietness, if we were permitted to find peace and quietness in this world.” The last words were uttered ina low and scarcely audible voice, and a deep sigh relieved his oppréssed heart. Sarah looked at him with a feeling of anxiety, and as he continued ‘with downeast eyes, silently, as in a dream, regarding the ground, she let go his arm, the better to gaze into his face, and said— « What ails you, Mr, M’Donald ? We are strangers to each other, it is true, at least accorditig to the ‘usages of cold, somal life; but you know--you must feel—that we ali of us take the most lively interest ‘im you. If there is anything im which my father—in which we can— assist you,, you may. rely upon it that we shall not only be willing, but even gager todo 50.” ; a oer eee ee So ee THB HALPBRERD BRIGADE. 81 T thank you, Miss Sarah ! I thank you from the bottom of my heart, for the ieeling of friendship which prompts ‘you,” answered M’- Donald, with a hasty effort to collect himself; as if ashamed of having given'vent to his feelings. “Every one in this world has to bear his little burdens; some, more, some less; and everyone foolishly fancies his to be the heaviest.” “You do not appear to be a person likely to exaggerate the impor- tance of yours,” Sarah replied, in an earnest, almost anxious tone, “ Do not rely too much upon that,” continued M’Donald, with a smile intended ‘to dissipate her fears, but which only increased them. “I am, perhaps, weaker than you think.” ‘T have no right to trust myself into your confidence,” said Sarah, in a low voice ; “ and still, know no one I should like better. ” She suddenly checked herself, with a blush, and turned towards sorae scream- ing cockatoos, that were just flying over their heads towards the river. “Would you trust me?” asked M’Donald, seizing her hand; which she’gave to him, trembling violently. “ Me,—a stranger? What if I myself cautioned you against so doing ?” “T should not heed you,” said Sarah, with a smile, while two bright tears appeared in her eyelashes, ‘* not more now than before.” ‘You may believe me, Sarah, when I' appear as my owr accuser,” observed M’Donald, suddenly, as if seized with deep emotion; “ but believe not others when they do'so. © “ Keep fast a little of that trust which you put in'me; perhaps too 'rashly. Let me depart hence with the conviction that there is one being in the wide world’ who takes an interest in me, who thinks of me with a feeling of friendship,” So deep a grief-was depicted upon his features as he uttered these words, with almost painful haste, that Sarah, struck with his unexpected emotion, remained silent. Suddenly-the sound of hoofs was heard in the bush. Both looked round, and M’Donald unconsciously let go Sarah’s hand. The horseman advanced towards them, and scarcely half a minute after he reached the spot where they were stopped, and casting a sharp searching look upon M’Donald, as if his presence was not agreeable tc him, said, bowing to Sarah with a friendly smile :-— _ I saw your dress through the bushes, Miss, and thank my lucky star which guided me first to you. I cannot but consider it as a. good omen. : With these words he vaulted lightly out of the saddle, gave the reins to one of the black pélice who had hastened tothe spot, without how- ever honoring him with a look, and advanced towards the young lady with outstretched hands. ; Sarah blushed and shook hands without however, speaking a word; and the new-comer continued laughing. “Indeed, Ido not know whether you recognise me. Since I had the pleasure of seeing you seems to me an age, although it is scarcely more than three years.” ‘Lieutenant Walker must think my memory very bad,” Sarah replied, in a friendly but reserved tone, “if he supposes that ghort time could have entitely effaced his name from my recollection.” » Uw ——— 82 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, “ Had the separation lasted much ionger, you could not have.an awered for the result ?” said the officer laughing. “J do not think you know each other,” Sarah replied. “ Mr. Lieut enant Walker, and, if I mistake not, chief of the black mounted police.” The lieutenant bowed, coldly, but politely. “Mr M Donald, a friend of ours who surprised us a few days ago by a visit.” M’Donald returned the bow, and the young officer continued, address: - ing Sarah in a lively manner,— _« You cannot conceive, Miss, with what delight I received orders to lead. a troop in this direction, and I should certainly have hastened on before my wild set, had not a disagreeable duty detained, me at the, last station for several hours.” “My father will be very glad to see you again,” said Sarah, “ and, if you have no objection, | will go with you.” “1 am ready to follow you whenever you. please ; but may I venture to offer you my arm over the rough ground ?” “thank you,” said Sarah, in a friendly tone, refusing, the proflered assistance ; ‘‘{ know every root here. There comes my father, he has no doubt heard of your arrival. If you allow me,. will, go, and pre- pare everything for your reception ;”. and with this she quitted. the. two gentlemen and hastened towards the house. Mr. Powell had indeed been apprised of the) arrival of his guest, and was coming to welcome him,, They walked towards the house, but M’- Donald remained alone by the river-side and, with his arms, folded over his breast, leaning against a slender gum-tree, he gazed in silence at the water which flowed at, his feet. CHAPTER X. THE LIEUTENANT OF THE MOUNTED POLICE. Uievrenant WALKER was a young man of about seven-and twenty years of age, with a slender but ‘strong and well knit frame. For a young man, he possessed an extraordinary amount of experience. Born” of poor parents, and with a little prospect of making his way in the old country, he had emigrated to Australia, and entered the force as a private. , Tu those troubled times, he soon distinguished himself; and his cool- ness and courage attracted the notice of his chiefs. In a fight with the bushrangers, who had assembled in New South Wales in dangerous bands, his superior officer was killed. Walker assumed the command, an without further orders, conducted the expedition in which they were en- gaged with so much skill and success, that the Governor appointed him second lieutenant. 4 A bold stroke, already alluded to, which he executed with a few of his men against a band of well armed escaped convicts, obtained for him the medal and the commission of first lieutenant. “When the black police was formed, he received the command of a troop. of these fellows ordered to clear the western frontiers. TRE HALF-BRHED BRIGADE. 8B Only a few years before, he had made the acquaintance of the Pow. ells at Sydney; and even then the budding bush-rose Sarah, made a deep impression upon him. At that time, indeed, his position was too humble to permit him to address the yonng lady, as he was but just commencing his career. But three eventful years, rich in success for him, had since elapsed. His pay had increased considerably ; he occu- pied a highly respectable position, and might aspire to the hand of the daughter of even a wealthy planter, He fancied that Sarah was not indifferent tohim; and with the love of the daughter and the good- will of the father, he doubted not of ultimate success. Who could the stranger be with whom he had found her by the river side? That one circumstance rendered him uneasy. However, to in- quire was his profession ; and he hoped soon to obtain from Mr. Powell all necessary information on this poiut. “ A friend of the house,” Sarah had told him. “ Bah! Friends of the house are seldom dangerous!” And by a bold attack he still hoped to obfain his end. The time was short, however. His orders were pre- cise. He must try and find out who this stranger was, and in what re lation he stood to the family ; and then all would be smooth. “JT am, heartily rejoiced, my dear Mr. Walker,” said Mr. Powell, as they walked towards the house, “ to see you, and bid you welcome.” ‘ T promised to come and see yon on the Murray.” “Yes,” replied the old gentleman, “I know you did; but such prom. ises are constantly made, no doubt sincerely, but circumstances preven their fulfilment. We are all dependant upon them, and cannot alwa’ yg follow our inclinations. {t is, therefore, so much the more deligh? fy) when these can be combind with our duties.” “Tn the wild and adventurous life which we lead,” replied the “Jieut- enant, laughing, “ everything is possible, and no part of the & jlonies is safe from our excursions. To-day we are here, to-morrow there; and the ‘ game’ which we have to follow takes good care to ket .p uy in motion. On the whole, from what I heard, I thought your stati’ on much more lonely.” « Your men have brought life into it” replied Mr. Powre]], with a smile ; ‘‘ for usually it is indeed still and lonely enough here, ‘and I really sometimes pity my poor girls, who are deprived in the bur.h of almost all the pleasures of youth.” ; “ But you have frequent visitors ?” “Not many. Most strangers going this way are not of a character to hold much intercourse with.” “ «“T know the fellows well enough,” said Walker. “~‘ Nine-tenths of them are liberated convicts, and the remaining tenth little better. These fellows wander far and wide. Indeed, the police stations along the Mur- ray ought to be much more numerous than they are, if it were only on their account.” 1s “Nevertheless, we very seldom hear of any robbery or burglary. Most crimes of the sort are committed by the blacks.” “ You had a skirmish with them Mbt asked Walker. ~~ «Tam sorry to say we had,” replied Mr. Powell. “It always grieves. A ee eT 4 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, me to see the poor wretches roughly treated. We. apply ou: standard of right and justice to them, and the poor devils invariably get the worst a “They fare, worse when I set my blacks at them,” said Walker, laughing, and stopping to look back at his troop. “ But, speaking of guests, the gentleman whom I met by the river-side with Miss Sarah seems to have stayed behind. Is he a relation of yours ?” “No; he is a frend of ours, who visited us once before, about a year ago, and for whom we all have taken a great liking. His name ia M’Donald.” “M’Donald? This name is frequently met with in the old coun- try. You do not happen to know from what part of the world ‘he comes ?”” “No; he never mentions his family, and Ihave not asked him any questions on that point.” “Tn the colonies,” said Walker, laughing, “one soon acquires the habit of not touching upon the past of our neighbors, even, with the safest people. I suppose he has a station here in the west ?” ’ ““He has not yet taken one; but is looking out for a suitable run.” ““God be thanked !”. thought Walker, within himself; * only a pass- ing acquaintance, which will not prove very dangerous.” ? The two gentlemen entered the house together, and Walker was most warmly welcomed by Mrs. Powell aud Elizabeth. Many a pleasant re- collection of the busy life in the metropolis was revived by his presence ; aud he could also give ther. information about many persons who were dear to them. Walker, haying been accustomed from his youth to mingle with se ciety, and forced by his profession to mix alternately with all ranks, at once made himself at home at Mr. Powell’s, Before the evening closed, he had become as free and sociable with them all as if he had belong- ed for many years to the family. ae Towards evening, his duties called him away from the family circle ; and he had a long conversation with the sergeant about instructions con- cerning the movements of his troop and his own designs, which he had not as yet communicated, to the family. The sergeant, in the first place, gave his commanding officer an ac- count of all that he had observed on his way, referring chiefly to the people engaged at the station. Information was easily and quicicly ob- tained by means of a list which the sergeant had procured from the book-keeper, . It contained the names and ages of all those persons who had been in service there. Walker himself met the dismissed hut-keeper on his way to the station. Oe oe The only stranger, therefore, at the station was the hut-keeper engag- edin the place of Miller. The sergeant had already sent one'of his black troop to obtain all the necessary information concerning this man. Jt was not impossible that he belonged to the band which had been scat- tered in the marshes, and might have made his way to this place. At any rate, the black police. had come to the Murray for the purpose of ve 5 Sey ? ~ iio a 1 MPa > Wau Vi =o VF ~w sae 2 ‘ann. + THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 85. searching the, whole country ; and it was a part of their duty not to ieave any stranger unnoticed, PEE “Very weli,” said Walker, afier hearing the report ; “ we must wait for your messenger, and, as soon as he comes, you will break up with the troop, and march to the Darling. Mid-way, you can stop a day to search the country, and I will overtaxe you on the Darling. Four of the men can stay here with me.” * “You have not heard yet, sir.’ asked the sergeant, “ what has become of our best prey. Has he been caught ?” “| think he has,” replied Walker; ‘‘ atleast, such was the report a short time since: I shall hear more about this matter either to-day or to morrow. I left my servant at the last station, that we might receive the letter as soon as possible.” fog. “J should be. sorry to lose the reward,” observed the sergeant, with yexation ; “ we always have the hardest work first, and those who come after us have nothing to do but skim the cream off the milk. “I thought that we should make nothing of it.” “Tt matters little so that he is caught,” said Walker, shrugging his shoulders. ‘‘ However, we may make some prize money, after all. 1 should not surprised if that new hut-keeper turned out to'be that rascal, ‘Red John, as the bushrangers call him; and there is a reward of £100 on his head too, At any rate he has a gun.” Ae “The deuce '” exclaimed the astonished sergeant : “ how did you learn that ?” « The German I met as I was coming to the station, and who help the situation before, told me so.” He has a spite against him, then.” said the sergeant, with a shrug of his shoulders. “It cannot be ‘Red John.’ He has lived in the woods several veats now, and the gentleman who is here, M’Donald, knew this fellow at a ststioa on the Murray,” «Be that as it may,” answered Walker, “this Red John is still at at large, and, to all appearances, has fled to the. Murray. If we once ge: upon his tracks, he will not be able to escape. At any rate, the game is surrounded ; and wherever we find this fellow, a few of his former comrades will turn up at the same time” rege “ $o mucn the better, and welcome too,” replied the sergeant. “‘ My blacks long for something to do,” ; « By-the-bye,” said Walker, as he was about to break up the confer: ence, “ Where did the tribe that was encamped here yesterday go to? J suppose you have sent to ascertain ?” «Certainly. They crossed the river, and kept to the bush for some diatance ; but they afterwards turned and crossed the river again, higher up, no doubt to from ‘a junction with the band who carried off the sheep a few days since.” *_ aoe *'s | thought so. I saw their tracks about four miles off, although they had all jumped over their path. But they left a spy behind.” sare “« He can scarcely be called a spy—a poor devil of a cripple, with -Jega'like a skeleton’s which “he cannot ‘use. Very likely they sudden! got wind of our coming, and could not take him away with them, ”’ He ie stili yonder.’ ° SNR 86 THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, - “Very well. As soon as your messenger returns from the sheep-sta- tion, let me know. . Whom have you sent ?” _“Kuyunko, He is acquainted with most of these fellows, as he be- longs to a tribe with which they had formerly a great deal of inter: eourse.” . Tf The following morning all was much life and bustle amongst the black police. , All the band, with the exception of four, fetche1 their horses, saddled them, and prepared for the march. Qne of the troop, whom Walker had left behind, had arrived at full speed with despatches, and the lieutenant was standing by the sergeant, giving his orders, when M’Donald, approached. “ Aye you going to leave us already ?” he asked, bowing to the young officer. ' “ Our life is one of motion,” answered the latter. ‘ There is no rest for us; and whenever we are comfortable at a place, we are sure to be called away.” “You have received despaches, I see,” said M’Donald. “A fresh start,” replied Walker. “J have now been a hunter of men for seven years.” “Tt is a noble pursuit,” observed M’Donald, with a smile. “Noble !” exclaimed the lieutenant, with an expression of contempt, “Tt you understood it as well as I do, you. would not. thus misuse the name ‘ noble.’ , “Ts there not one good man among them?” asked M’Donald, with a smile. “ You gentlemen of the police are too prone to consider every one a rascal who has not proved himself to be an honest man.” ‘When one comes constantly in contact with the. refuse of society— sees, nothing but depravity—the most generous mind must, at last, des- pair of humanity,” said the lieutenant. ‘‘ Even now scarcely fifteen miles from here, an abominable and horrible murder has been, com- mitted.” “A murder! exclaimed M’Donald, with horror. ‘“‘ Attended with circumstances of the most horrid barbarity,” contin- ued the officer. ‘“ My man has just brought me the news, A traveller voming from Darling, has been killed in the bend of the Murray, and wot by blacks, but by a white man.” “ Have you any suspicion of the direction taken by the murderer ?” “Suspicion?” answered Walker, with an expression of astonishment. “What dol care about suspicion, I shall set six of my bloodhounds on the tracks, and it will be very hard, indeed, if. we do not. catch him within a few days, _My messenger could not stop, I am. sorry to say. A few wild dogs attracted his attention, ashe was passing, and he found a body concealed with considerable care, under branches and bark.” “But wnat makes you suppose that a,/white man committed the ‘murder 7”. “ For the simplest reasons. : In the first. place, the wound was im flcted with a broad knife, such as no, blacks carry, and the murderer he ae away his victim’s money, and boots, leaving his own boots im stead. — et THE HALE-BREED BRIGADE. 87 « T cannot egnceive why he did not throw them all into the. river ” said M’Donald. “At any rate, he must have, been an inexperienced hands os 2a “JT do not think so,” replied Walker, ‘“ The river, is several miles distant from the place where the deed was committed, and he would have left more tracks if he had carried the corpse to it, than by con- cealing it. Had the body remained undiscovered only two days longer, the wild dogs weuld have mangled it insuch a way that no one could have recognised it. Indeed the murderer’s principal aim seems to have been to get. away as quickl; as possible. He evidently had no, fear, of discovery, as he did not know that the black police were so close..upon his heels... L will have the fellow hanged, if I shonld be obliged to fol- low his travks for half a year inthe bush, in order to accomplish my object. Itis the punishment he deserves, and | hold it a point of honor not to leave unavenged a murder committed under the very eyes.of the olice.” im I hope you will discover the murderer,” said M’Donald, “ the safety of all is endangered when such wretches are allowed to roam about at liberty.” itis M’Donald perceived that, the lieutenant, was. pressed. for time, and wished to be rid of the presence of a stranger; he therefore walked to- wards the house, passing a group of blacks, lounging about,, M’Don- ald was not wrong in his surmises. The lieutenant, had many things to settle with his sergeant, who received his orders, and soon after rode up the river, accompanied by six of his men. Another party were ordered in an opposite direction, and a few wentyinto the bush, aa As Kuyunko, who had been ordered to the sheep-station, had not, re- turned, two men were sent after him. The officer remained alone at the station, and he retired to his room, and spent about an hour writing. When he had done, he went to the parlor to look after Mr. Powell. Sarah’s voice answered his knock, and, on opening the door, he found her alone in the room... , ( oaiet “ Excuse my disturbing you, Miss Sarah,” said the young officer, casting a hasty glance round the apartment. *‘‘ 1 wanted. to see: your father.” Wy “He went out about half an hour ago, with mother and Elizabeth, to the new paddock,” replied Sarah. ‘Mr. Bale, I hear has returned with some cattle which had long. been missed. He accidently - found them. in the bush, much quicker than was expected, and father went, te look at them, You will be sure to find them there.” tae baaie Walker stood at the door irresolute, as if undecided whether to_go or stay, Convinced that this favorable opportunity, would probably never recur, that, in a day or two, he might be far away, he turned slowly away from the door, and said, with a trembling voice— ith “Tf you will allow me, Miss Sarah, I will wait for, him here. Who knows what long expeditions I may soon have to undertake? A short rest before coming hardships will do me good.” Rerel how to him; she wished to. answer, but could not utter,» word. ; a \ ® SSDS 88 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, It often happens ‘i life, that when some important @vent is impend- ing, the presentiment entirely takes possession of our minds. Our heart is oppressed, we know not why ; our pulse ceases to beat ; we can scarcely breathe ; andthe mind must, at last, make a violent effort to regain its ascéendency over the body. r . So felt these young people, as they stood together alone. They knew that this moment was decisive for them. Sarah’ perceived the impres sion she had made, although quite unwillingly, upon the mind of the young officer ; and Walker, who loved the young and beautiful’ gir) with all the ardor of a first attachment, had not relinquished the hope of ‘calling ‘her his own, notwtihstanding the reserve df her manners. This he considered to be maiden bashfulness. The decisit'’s moment had arrived.” ‘The tiext day might, perhaps, separaté them fof months, if not for years. He resolved, at least, to know for certain whether his hopes and dreams had any chance of being realized, or whether he should have to relinquish in despair the hope of winning the heart of the beau- tiful maiden. eM Sarah soon grew collected. She was determined not to let her guest suspect what was going on in her bosom; and, making a violent effort to master her emotion, perhaps also anxious to give him time to speak to her, she took up her bonnet, and said, ina friendly manner,— ‘If you have io objection, I will eorduct ‘you to them. I wish to speak to my ‘mother about something.” pa She was about to pass their guest, in order to gain the ‘door : her hand was already upon the latch. Once out, she thought she was safe. “ Miss Sarah ” exclaimed Walker, mustering all his courage, “ Will you allow me to speak a few words with you ?” YB 4a Whilst uttering these words he endeavored to take her hand, but she hastily withdrew it. He pointed to a chair, with'an imploring glatice, as if entreating her not by flight to deprive him of the opportunity of — explaining himself. ; oe Sarah hesitated an instant ; but she felt she could not possibly refuse to listen. Her knees almost forsook her, and*sHe sank Wpon’ the nearest chair, saying, in a whisper,— oF “ What do you wish to say ?” Her timidity gave him courage, and in a quiet, firm voice, he con- tinued,— } vee “ Miss Sarah, you surely cannot be ignorant that your image is deep: ly engraven upon my heart—that it has been so from the first’ moment that I saw you. 1 beg of you not to interrupt me ; at, least, allow me to express’ the feeling which have possessed my soul for years, and some timés filled it’ with joyful hopes, sometimes with apprehensive doubts { love you-love you with’ all thé true and sincere ‘ardor that a man is capable of ; and upon your decision, whether favorable or otherwise, de- nds, perhaps, the happiness of all my future life. As regards myself shall be obliged, for some years to come, to follow the wild, adven turous life which I have chosen for my profession, But if fortune fevor# me ever 80 little—zeal and “perseverance I -will call to its aid—I eh goon obtain promotion, which will not only render me independent, in & i o reo: THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 89 ~ peeuniary point of view, but permit of my settling in‘a townelipettiaps at Sydney. Give me your hand, then;—+trust me with the happiness, the peace of your future life, assured that no one would guard it more tenderly or devotedly than [ will. 1am the descendant of ‘ito noble fa. mily,’’ he continued, in a hearty, open voice. “What I am, what I have, Lowe only to my own exertions. If you will throw into the bal ance my heartfelt ardent love for you, let me at least hope that, when 1 return to! you, [ may expect a friendly welcome. ‘I have taken you by surprise,” he added, before she could reply ; “ my bold offer has come upon you in too unexpected a manner. You want time; you wish to considér. Pray be not angry at the hasty manner in which I have spoken. You must remember that 1 was forced to do so by circum- stances. To-morrow morning let me hear a Yes’ or a * No’ from your eyes.” y With this he rose hastily, took his: cap) and was about to leave the room, when Sarah stopped him. She could not'speak at first ; her tongue refused its office, and only her outstretched arm, her entreating, anxious look, bade him stay ; and, silent and trembling with expectation, he obeyed. At last she recovered enough to be able to speak ; and, as'she' re- gained motion and life, her self. possession and tranquility returned, al- though her cheeks were deadly pale. ‘Mr, Walker,” she at length ejaculated, “ you have, indeed—you have surprised me by this unexpected offer but—do not go away. Let us at once fully understand each other. You do me honor by this offer, you are, from general report, an honorable, upright amt) mare Sey wants, as regards life, are modest enough —but y «Miss Sarah !” ‘ ‘‘ Dean never be yours.” Walker did not reply. For several minutes he’stood before her, ptavélv and in silence, with pale, trembling lips. At last he whispered+ “May I ask why ” “ [tis my duty to tell you,” replied Sarah. You opened your heart to me in all sincerity, and I shall do the same to you. I love another.” “ You love ’” exclaimed the lieutenant, in fearful emotion, ‘and he— but, no,” interrupting himself, “Ihave no right to question you any more, and ought to feel obliged to you for having been so candid with me. May you be happy, Miss; may your husband be worthy of your choice ' God-is my witness that, although I had my own happiness in yiew when I solicited your hand, ‘I would pot puenhand § that, adtginess by causing you one.single hour of sorrow.” “Mr. Walker,” said Sarah, with emotion. “Tt is past,” replied the young man ; “ my dreama.i is over. Lonce hoped to be allowed to protect. your beloved head from all danger—to smooth your path through life. It is not destined to be so ; and.) think, 1 know the happy man to whom the blissful and glorious lot has fallen. That you may never repent your choice is my most sincere wish, ;,‘‘ but, he added, in a low voice, trembling with emotion, ‘‘ woe to the man, if he should deceive you’ He remained silent a few moments, and hav. ee yo THE BUSH RANGHEZ; OR, iug.gained a complete mastery over his feelings, heat! last continued, tn a perfectly tranquil, unimpassioned voice— “My duty compels me to spend this day here.» This evening; or early to-morrow morning, Lexpect some of my men, who are gone in pursuit of a murderer, to return, I cannot avoid being near you during this time ; but. not a word, not a look from me, shall remind you of this hour... Early to-morrow | shall depart : forget, at least, until:then, Miss Sarah, that in my heart.I have indulged such’ bold hopes.” Sarah was about to make some reply, but he stretched out his hand to her, opened the door. closed it hastily, and almost: uttered a ery of surprise, for at two paces from the door stood M’Donald. . Before he could say a word the stranger bowed, and walked down the narrow pas- sage which led to his room. The lieutenant remained fixed to the spot, and stared after M’Don- ald as if he had been an apparition. Had he just entered the house, or had he overheard his conversation with Sarah. Had he witnessed it? His blood flowed back to his heart; and he made a movement as it to follow the stranger; but he only entertained this thought an‘ in- stant. The next minute he turned away, went out of the house, and jumped on his horse, which had been waiting for him, and dashed into the bush. M’Donald retired into his own room, shut the door aftershim; took a chair, and sat some minutes with his face buried in his hands. No sigh escaped, from his breast, nor a word came from his lips; no motion of his body betrayed that he was alive. It was only when he heard the family returning home. that he arose, strode hastily up and down the room with his arms folded across his breast, and as if prompted by a sudden impulse, took his sadile-bag and packed it for a journey. He mspected his firearms, drew the old charges out of his pistols, and clean ed, and loaded them again. Then, dressed as he was, he threw him self upon his’ bed, to follow his own thoughts quietly and undisturbedly until he should be called to join the family circle. SHAPTER XI. WALKER AND M’DONALD. Meantiwe Lieutenant Walker had ridden into the bush at full speed Whither, he scarcely kuew himself, and only wished to collect his thoughts—to regain his coolness and sélf-possession, before returning to the family circle, in which he felt that he would have to leave his heart. The thonght of flight occurred to him—never, never more to see her, whom he could not hope to call his own; but, on reflection, he felt that such a course would not do. The stranger must’ have heard Sarah’s refusal of his hand, for the thin partition could not have pre vented this, and to him he must show in what manner he quitted the field. , P — se = eS ee eS ee THE HALF-LREED BRIGADE. 91 The quick ride exercised a wonderful influence upon Walker, who, naturally possessed great firmness, and always met. ths, blows of des- tiny with coolness. He had just turned his horse’s head in the direction of the station, when the animal pricked its ears, and gave.a loud and shrill neigh. Another horse, not far in the bush, answered, and imme- diately after one of his messengers returned on his jaded steed, through the rustling malley-bush, whilst the black fellow, who had been in the saddle since morning, gave a shout of joy. at recognizing ‘his officer. “Well, how do you get on?” Have you discovered him ?” exclaimed Walker, quickly turning his horse round. “ Kuyunko has !” the black replied, in gloomy ,voice. “ Then, this new hut-keeper was really the murderer ?” The black simply nodded with his head. “ You followed his track ?” ‘Step by step. New boots make deep tracks.” “And you found ?” Ph Kuyunko dead—white man away—but blood in his track. Kuy unko: fired.’ “ Kuyunko dead?’ exclaimed the officer, with dismay, “ but you fol- lowed the track 2?” eats “ Certainly, as far as the river. Much blood there—swam over, found blood on the other side, but not farther—must lie at the bottom, . Offi- cer must go with us now. Black police must seek. the body; perhaps he is worth gold.” “You are right,” said Walker, evidently disturbed, for he had scarcely heard the last words. . ‘‘ We must know who the murderer was ; per- haps there is a price set upon his head. Has nobody seen him?” he suddenly asked, as if a new thought had, struck him. “ No—not seen,” was the reply. “Have you no idea who it can be ?” “Red John,” replied the black, coolly, and without moving @ fea- ture, (ss Walker stopped his horse so suddenly that it reared high in the air. “ Red John \” he exclaimed, scarcely noticing the prancing and leap- _ ing charger under him ; but how do you know that, if you have not seen him ?—Was Kuyunko still alive ?” “‘No—dead , but Red John’s boots stood by the first corpse, and black gnan needs no more.” “ The boots—true,.. Who knew the track ?” “ Mahong,”’ replied he. ‘« Where is the sergeant ?” the lientenant asked, hastily. sui “Yonder, by the river.. Blacks look for the corpse. Officer, is. te come and give further orders.” ae “ How far is it from here 2” “ Five--six miles! River makes great bend yonder.” = ‘« Come first to the house, then,” said Walker, .‘* Your ‘horse, wants rest, and I myself mzst speak with some one there, before I. can fallow you. ' : bib He slowly turned his horse’s head towards the station, the direction of Se oe 92 sae ae RANGER ; OR, which was already fodtonted by the cracking of the heavy stock-whips Mahong followed, perfectly indifferent as to what further orders the lieutenant might give. When they ariived at the fence, where the men were still busy separ- ating the wild cattle, and marking those which were not branded, Walker reined in his animal. At the corner of the fence ‘stood Mr. . Powell, with his oversee, Mr. Bale.’ The ladles were already on their way home. “ Gentlemen,” said Walker, ‘‘ Tam sorry to have to announce to you that your new hut-keeper has already left his post.” “The deuce he has ” exclaimed Bale. “Then I wish’ the: fellow were hanged. I havé'just brought him a’ pound of tobaceo.” “ He must be caught, however before being hanged,” replied ‘Walker, smiling. ‘I am afraid he is drowned.” , Drowned ! at the station ?” said Bale with a loud laugh. “ Why we are obliged to carry the water up to it in pails.” “ Nevertheless, he has been drowned in the river. But you ought to be glad to have got rid of him, He was one of the most noted-and dangerous bushrangers, and but a few days ago murdered a man” “That is not bad!” exclaimed Mr. Powell ; “and we may thank God we are delivered of this dangerous man in this manner.” ’ “T always thought the fellow was not altogether right,” ‘said Bale ; “but how in the world did you come on his track so soon ?” ‘The officer did not reply immediately, for his attention was suddenly attracted to the two horses tied up against the malley-bush ; he ‘rode up to them, and examined them with the eyes of a judge. “A Capital pair of* horses, this,” he ‘said, fixing his eyes on Hite prey. “Bred ‘here ” “The bay was,” answered Bale, walking up to him, fs every squatter is fond of having his horses praised. “The grey comes from the south.” Does the animal belong to you “Yes—a present from Mr. Powell. Mr. M’Donald brought him from the settlements.” “Mr. M’Donald ‘Indeed. There’is an‘ R. L.’' on the haunch, isn’t there ?” De Xes : but I do not know the brand; it does not belong to any per- son in these parts.” “T once had a horse very much like this animal,” said Walker,’ still looking atit. ‘‘It was shot under me by a bushranger, and'T have not had a better one since. You do not know, perhaps, how mu¢eh’Mr, M’ Donald paid for him?” “Fifteen pounds, including saddle and bridle, he says.” “ Fifteen pounds ?” exclaimed the officer, quickly turning round. “ Well, it is, not so very cheap,” replied the overseer, x eal in'my opinion a very fair price.” ““But‘how very pale you look to-day, Mr. Walker?” said Mr,’ Powell interrupting the conversation, and laying his hand on the officer's’ knee «| did not notice it so much before, Are you unwell ?” THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. ; 98 “Quite well, thank you,” replied Walker, whose cheeks assumed anme color at this question... In fact, he wanted air, and almost unconscious- ly he ‘touched his, horse’s flanks with his sharp spurs. The animal be- came restive, and required his attention for a few moments; when he nad quieted it, he dismounted, threw the bridle ever its neck, and was going to lead it into the enclosure. Bale, however, would not suffer him to do this, but took the horse by the bridle and said : “ You will not want it again this evening ?”" “ No, but easly to-morrow morning.” ’ _.. “Very ;well; then I will take care of the animal. But, the deuce ! if what you say about the hut-keeper be correct, | must ride out this very evening.” “You need not be uneasy,” said Walker. ‘“ There is no necessity for your doing so this evening. My men willkeep watch. It will be time enough to-morrow morning.” “ But how did you come on the track ; how has all this happened ?” asked Mr. Powell. ! ; ‘« T,cannot.exactly tell you that myself,” replied Walker, evasively. « The information I have from my messenger is. very explicit ; but to- morrow morning you shall know all the details. It will be best however, not to say anything of the matter to the ladies to-day.” : “The danger, thanks to your timely aid, is past,” said Mr. Powell ; “and I myself think it will be best not to mention anything about it, until we have full details of the affair. But come, our work is. done,, and we will return to the house.” Taking Walker by the arm, Mr. Powell accompanied him along the fence, when, the black messenger met them, probably to receive further instructions from his superior. As soon as the latter saw him, he left Mx, Powell, who slowly continued his way to the house, whispered, a few words, into his ear, which the black answered with a nod, and Walker then followed his host. Walker was once more perfectly collected. But as he stepped over the threshold,, where all his hopes and dreams had been destroyed, he felt as if he could scarcely master the fearful emotions which had taken possession of his soul. Although he forced his features into their wont- ed calmness, he looked deadly pale, and his heart beat almost audibly. It, was twilight, but his altered appearance did not escape the saga- city of Mrs. Powell.;, and as soon as he stepped into the room, she look- ed at him with astonishment, and said anxiously, — ‘For God’s sake tell me what has happened to you: are you ill, Mr. Walker?” © : Pas You look like a corpse,” said ‘Lisbeth, who. stood by the window, engaged in earnest conversation with M’Donald, and whe now advanced towards him, “Has anything happened ?” “Pray do not be uneasy on my account,” replied the young man, laughing, at the same time making a violent. effort to collect himself, ‘Tam afrail I exerted myself a little too much last week, and I had a violent, headache this afternoon. But it is quite well now, and to-mor- row I ope to be as fresh and jovial as ever.” NE ee <<< 94 THE BUSH RANGER; OR, _ “M’Donald fixed a long and searching look upon him, but cast dota his eyes as they met those of the officer, and, with a sigh, he turned | towards the window. The black soldier was just coming towards’ the house ; he glanced at the stranger, and disappeared through the door. « Mr. Walker has his head full of business,” said Mr. Powell 5 ‘‘ #0 you must make some allowance for him. When he has rested, he will feel more comfortable and be better. But come, Sarah, play us some- thing until light and supper are brought in. Do you like music, Mr. Walker?” “ Very much,” replied the young man, “ it is one of the pleasures that we poor bushmen are deprived of almost the whole year, and we enjoy it the more when an opportunity offers.” “ Tt is painful, rather than a pleasurable feeling,” observed M’Donald. “Then you do not like music ?” asked Mrs. Powell, with ‘an expres- sion of surprise. “Do not misconstrue my meaning,” said M’Dorald. “ Perhaps’ no one likes music better than I do. It is a pleasure that has long been denied me; and when, after a dreary interval, 1 am greeted with it, my whole youth lies before’ me, as in a smiling spring, and my heart seems as if it would burst with sadness and bliss.” Whilst M’Donald was thus speaking, Walker looked sternly at him. When Sarah, without replying, sat down to the piano, and played notional Scotch tunes, he went to the nearest window and took up a book, of which he mechanically turned over the leaves while he was listening to the soft beloved tones. It was too dark toread; nev «theless, the book soon attracted his attention. It was the copy of “ Lalla Rookh,” and his finger accident- ally touched the hole made by the bullet, which he carefully and cu- riously examined. It almost made him forget the music. «Play something more cheerful,” said Mrs. Powell to her daughter. “Your ‘Home, sweet home,’ awakens in all our hearts too many sad recollections, just listen—how still everything is in the room !” “You will spoil your eyes,” Mr. Walker,” said Ned, the youngest boy, who was standing by the window near the lieutenant. ‘“ When I read t of an evening, mother always tells me not to do 80.” r “T am not reading,” said Walker, as Sarah commenced another and a more lively tune ; “my attention has only been absorbed hy the book because there is a place upon it where a bullet has struck it. Have the | + bushrangers ever fired into your room, Mr. Powell ?” “The book belongs to M’Donald,” exclaimed ’Lisbeth. “ His ‘pistol went off as he was riding on horseback, and fortunately, into the saddle- ” u “In which he carried books ?” asked the lieutenant, quickly.” fi “Yes ; was it not fortunate ?” answered the young girl, with a laugh. : Sarah touched the keys more rapidly, and played one of those old u Beotch tunes of wonderful richness of melody, — y “The pistol, fortunately, had a small charge” said Walker, putting A down the book, “or the bullet would have penetrated further. After all, our life often hangs by a single hair; and it is well for us that we cannot lift the veil from the future,” THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE. 95 The servants, who now entered the room to lay the cloth, interrupted the conversation and the music. Lights were brought in, although twilight had not faded ; and the family, with the two guests, sat: round. the well-svread table. The conversation turned upon different topics, and George, who» ar- rived late, having beer detained by the cattle just recovered, hada good deal to say to his father. Moreover, the catarrh had broken » out at one of the out-stations, One of the shepherds had just arrived with the intelligence, and measures were to be taken to remedy it’ as soon as possible. When the cloth had been removed, Mr. Powell sent “his!youngest sou for Mr. Bale, as he wished to give him some orders, As the boy opened the door, one of the black soldiers stood before it, and said that he want- ed to speak to his officer. Walker rose immediately, but returned im half a minute, and approached the two young ladies, who were standing near the piano, conversing with M’Donald. M’Donald was in better spirits than usual. Even Mr. Powell, im spite of the many matters that occupied his thoughts, didnot fail to notice this favorable change in his guest. “Well, have you caught him ?” he asked, drawing nearer to Walker. “ Whom, father ?” asked ’Lisbeth. ‘“ Has anything happened ?”’ ‘‘ Happened !” repeated Mr. Powell, laughing. ‘Mr. Walker and his men are taking away my hut-keeper.. He does not trouble himselt about what is to become of my cattle.” “Your hut-keeper ?” said M’Donald, unable to ‘conceal the interest he felt in the affair. “Yes: in that disguise,” replied Walker, smiling, “ one of the most noted bushrangers sought to conceal himself. Luckily, my man came upon his track : it is the ‘so-called ‘Red John.’ Did you ever hear: of him, Mr. M’Donald ?” : “Certainly. And you have caught him?” ‘At least made him harmless.” : “ Good God, Mr. Powell” exclaimed Mrs. Powell. “ Was ‘I not right, then, in saying we are surrounded by dangers? One of the most noto- rious bushrangers on the very station, and blacks enough to attack: us _ any day they may think fit ” «You must tell us all about it,” said "Lisbeth, going to Walker, and taking hold of his arm in a coaxing manner. ‘‘] am so fond of hearing such stories.” “ Then,” replied the young officer, “I am heartily sorry that I can- not satisfy your curiosity ; 1 do not know the details myself. I only know the result, and I expect to have {further intelligence to-morrow morning from my sergeant.” ne “Then you may be thankful too, Mr. M’Donald,” said ‘Lisbeth, turn- ing to him, “ that this fearful man can no longer do any harm; tor if you had ridden into the bush to-morrow morning, who knows bat he might have lain in wait for you and shot you ?” wily “To-morrow morning !” said Sarah, with an expression of susie, "“ Are you going away!” : nf ———— SS eeareeeeennnennenicas DS —— — 96 THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, s “Only for a short time, Miss Sarah,” he replied, while a slight hiush covered his face. | “If I really wish to find suitable pasture-grounds in the neighborhood, I must think of looking for them, or else others will be beforehand with me.” } Waiker watched him narrowly whilst he was speaking, and again every drop of blood seemed to have left his cheeks. Did he envy his rival’s happiness? His emotion, however, subsided suddenly, and he suld— , “Mr. M’Donald is quite right ; I myself know several squatters in the Adelaide District who have this country in view, and will not long delay putting their plans into execution.” “ But we do not wish to hear that now,” said Lisbeth ; “ tell us some wonderful bushranger story. You have long promised to do so, and, as you are going away, I shall lose my story.” “That you shall not,” said Walker, laughing ; ‘‘ I made the promise, and I must keep it. Besides, very probably you have not yet heard of sthe last escape of the célebrated Jack Loudon. Perhaps Mr. M’Don- ald told you? He was, | believe, at Melbourne very lately, and, no doubt, knows all about it,” “JT do,” answered M’Donald, with a smile. ‘‘ But tell the story ; the ladies have not yet heard it, and I have no doubt that it will interest them.” ‘Escape ?” said Mr. Powell : I think they caught him again.” “ Yes, I think they did; but for all that he has made his escape, anc left the colonies, it was thought, on board a small American schoonex. This, however, turned out to be wrong. Perhaps the craft was wrecked upon the coast. I will not, however, anticipate.” : “ Why, Jack Loudon was transported—l,know not whereiore ; we seldom learn the causes hére—we only have the carrying out of the law. I believe he was transported for life, or for so many years that it is _ pretty much the same. Very different rumors are in circulation about him. Some make him out to be a sort of Rinaldo Rinaldini; having they say,’ when he first took to the bush, shown great generosity and. noble- ness of mind, and kept the wild bands, which made them their chief, in strict order. Others declare that he has committed all sorts of cru- elties and crimes ; in short, it is difficult to make out the truth of the matter. J am inclined to believe, that although he is so cunning, he is by no méans the worst of criminals. At any rate, he deserved punish- ment, or else he would not have been transported. Having made his escape, and having been again captured, from venturing in the boldest and most foolish manner among his enemies at Melbourne, he was on the last occasion put in irons, and sent to Yan Diemen’s Land. “ Clothed in yellow and grey, the uniform of the worst class of con- viets, he worked with his companions in misfortune, in heavy chains, on the wharves of Eagle Hawk’s Neck—a small peninsula whence escape was before considered impossible. The narrow piece of land, only a few hundred paces in breath, which connects this place with the rest of the island, is not.only guarded by armed soldiers, but also by some large and fierce dogs. Escape was considered impossible, whilst the Te ee AB naka Le ere Sa ea ay TRE HALF-BREED BRIGADE, 97 sea at that place are swarmed with sharks, and every white man who attempted to swim over this narrow arm was sure to fall a prey to these hywnas of the deep. One stormy night, when the wind had lashed the sea into foam, and the guards were not inclined to be vigilant, Jack Loudon made his escape. The wind was favorable, as it blew directly towards him from the tongue of land where the dogs were chained, s¢ that they could not scent him before hand. He managed to free him. self from his irons, and he reached without accident the ragged bushy hill which descends towards the dogs in a declivity. The sentry at’ the top, who had retreated, did not perceive him, but the lamps which were burning brightly, round the dog-kennels, must have shown him as soon as he ventured off the descent, and betrayed him to the sentinel at. the bottom, This, however, did not daunt him. ‘The dogs were lying in their casks, only one on the left side was awake, and growling in the rain, “It appears that he was in the meantime missed by the keeper, and some of them went to give the alarm tothesentries. Perhaps he heard their voices, or feared pursuit ; but before the last. dog had returned into his cask, he ran down the steep. The sentry at the botton was not asleep, as the fugitive perhaps hoped; and he had indeed seen him glid- ing down the rocks, Luckily for him he did not give the alarm _imme- diately, but took a steady aim at him and fired—his gun missed. . He immediately shouted to the dogs; but at that moment the fugitive had reached the nearest cask, he rushed past it just as the dog heard his steps, and came out barking furiously. The man would have been lost if the nearest dog had not got entangled in its chain as it rushed out. The other sentry, aroused by this tumult, fired at him, but missed, ano in a few seconds he had disappeared in the darkness. “ The convict had even then to pass several posts and run the gaunt- let with various dangers. How he managed to escape them all is. not known. In short, he got off, found his way to Melbourne, and lay there concealed for some time. Driven at last to extremity, he took to the bush; other escaped cenvicts joined him ; and as the magistrates could not muster force enough to capture them, we were sent frem Sydney.” “And where was he caught?” asked "Lisbeth, who. had listened. to to the tale with the greatest attention. “T cannot tell you, miss,” replied Walker, ‘‘ The second lieutenant, ' William, succeeded in cutting him off from the bush, and driving him back towards the settlements ; I followed other members of the band. He is said to have been concealed in the swamps, and to have fallen in- to the hands of the police, dangerously wounded. He will probably, unless something worse awaits him, be sent to Norfolk Island, and have to work in heavy chains. From that place escape is totally impossible,” “ And you captured all the rest of the band?” asked George, who seemed to take a lively interest in the recital. “Yes, almost. There are only a few at large still. I scarcely think we shall ever see them again; they have no doubt perished in the Au- atralian bush, or by the hands of the blacks.” 98 THE BUSH RANGER ; OR, “Yes, but how do you manage,” asked ‘Lisbeth, ‘“‘ when alone you meet with one of these fearful men in ‘the bush 2?” In case, he should not surrend2t at once, is not your life in danger ?” se “Yes, very frequently, miss,” replied the officer, gravely. .“ Its our duty to do our best to apprehend the culprit when we have once discov- ered him; and he, driven to extremity, often riske.his life to save his liberty. They do not care much about a murder, more or less, and their punishment can searcely be made more severe. Catching them is not generally so difficult as keeping them. The worst thing of all is to take a prisoner along with you.” F “And how do you manage that ?” ’Lisheth inquired. “ T will tell you,” said Walker. “If you take an interest in the pro- cess, I can explain it easily.” ; Saying these words, he took from his breast pocket a strong double- ‘ron ring, provided with a lock, and held it out towards the young tady, , “Look !” he said, as Lisbeth, who did not, know the meaning of the instrument, glanced at it shyly ; “these are the so-called ‘ handcufis,’ or ‘ darbies ;’ they are placed round the wrist of the prisoner—many have been in these—in this manner. Allow me to show you for a minute.” “No, not on any account !” exclaimed ’Lisbeth, starting back with a shudder. ‘TJ should not sleep the whole night if I once felt the irom round my hands !” “Are you afraid of them? he said, laughing ; “J am sure you are no bushranger. Mr. M’Donald, will you show the young lady how it is done? and you will all agree that it is a very simple and excellent in- strument. I hope Miss ‘Lisbeth will not be afraid of seeing the irons on another person.” As he said this, he took M’Donald’s right hand, and the latter quietly surrendered it to him. It almost seemed as if a smile played upon the police-officer’s lips. “You see, ladies,” said Walker, holding M’Donald’s hand, round which he had placed the ring, towards them, ‘this is the way the thing is done. And now,” he added, pressing the lock, which fastened with a loud crack, “the prisoner cannot.use his arms to defend himself, and would find it very awkward to run away.” “Mr. M’Donald is a prisoner,” said ’Lisbeth, laughing ‘My prisoner, IN THE NAME oF THE QuEEN !” Walker said, suddenly; gravely and solemnly placing his hand upon M’Donald’s shoulder. M’Donald stiwed not, but boldly confronted his antagonist. _ Not one muscle of his body moved, only his face had now become as pale as marble. Why M’Donald seemed ‘s0 little moved by this sudden, and most un- expected arrest, will be explained by his eventful history, as fully de tailed in the sequel to this book, called, “The Outlaw Ranger.” “A patient prisoner, at least,” said Sarah, who, without knowing why, felt an indescribable anguish in her heart. “ Oh, pray take thos mons away ; the sight of them makes me shudder !” THE HALF-BREED BRIGADE — 99 She stepped forward, as if she were herself about to remove the 1 | fetters. ; “Jack Loudon,” said Walker, with a loud voice, his eyes darting fixe, ! and with outstretched hand pointing at the prisoner, alias Murphy, ; alias Bidol, alias M’Donald, the outlawed bushranger of Van Diemen’s | Land, the fugitive from Eagle Hawk’s Neck, the captain of the band just scattered in the Hindmarsh swamp, stands before you! Do you still wish me to take off his fetters ?” ~~ “ Good heavens !” exclaimed Sarah, whilst the rest seemed to have lost the power of speech and motion at the fearful discovery. ‘ M’Dow ald speak—defend yourself—repudiate this falsehood !” Walker started back, as if struck by a bullet, and became paler than his prisoner. M’Donald spoke not a word. As he had stretched out his arms to receive the fetters, so he stood, still and motionless. His eye caught Sarah’s; she met his glance, looked at him for a minute, streteh- = | ed out her arms towards him, and, with a loud cry, fell senseless ux the ground. THE END. iS The Romance of Romances! Nothing like the suecess which has attended the issue, in the SATURDAY JOURNAL, of Mr. Albert W. Aiken’s romance of the Shawnee Country, viz.: ‘*The Wolf Demon,” has been seen in recent journalism ; but the publishers of this popular and beautiful fire- side and home Weekly, have just commenced in tie columns of their paper a story of the Far North-west which, in novelty, in beauty, 1m interest, in character, must transcend in popularity that of any romance which has appeared since the days of Cooper’s great Pathfinder and Deerslayer. It is, singularly enough, inspired by the genius of the great novelist himself, for on its author, JAMES FENIMORE COOPER ADAMS, seems to have fallen the cloak of his godfather, the novelist, between whom and the elder Adams existed a brother’s friendship; and when we add that, though bred to the accomplishments of city life, the now author-hunter received his lessons in wooderaft and forest skill under the tutelage of his uncle, THE CELEBRATED “OLD GRIZZLY ADAMS,” : the great bear-Lamer, hunter and Indian-fighter, we make an announcement well calcu- lated to excite surprise and to create a Sensation in literary circles. The romance now promised is éalled: THE PHANTOM PRINCESS; OR, Ned Hazel, the Boy Trapper. It is a most strange and beautifal love story, and full of mystery as such. It is, equally, an exciting story of the Upper Saskatchewan wilderness, wherein the noted NicK WHIFFLES and his boy-pupil in forest craft: are @hiéf actors, along with the dog “Calamity.” It is, too, a romance of boy-love and passion, for there flits across his path a wood-vision of rare beauty, with whom, thereafter, the Boy Trapper and his beloved “Old Nick” become inext igably involved to the end; and making, all in all, a story of remarkable freshness, originality, spixit, and novelty—sueb, indeed, as allclasses and all ages will peruse with delight increasing With each successive chapter. This romance, commenced in No. 46 of the SATURDAY JOURNAL, is only one of the many attractions of that most admirable and entertaining weekly, whose rapid rise toa large circulation attests its general excellence and Worth as a Family and Iireside Jour- nal. It is sold by all newsdealers. Price six cents per copy; or, is sent to single mail subscribers at $3.00 per year; or, in clubs of two or more for $2.50 per year. er Any purty sending us $6.00 for two subscribers for one year, or for one subscriber for two years, will be allowed to choose from our List of DIME PUBLICATIONS TWELVE volumes, which will be sent to him or her, postage pre-paid ! BEADLE AND COMPANY, Publishers, 98 William Street, New York. - AMERICAN TALES. . The People’s Fifteen Gent Series. No. ON THE PLAINS; or, the Race for Life. A story of adventure among the Black Hills. By Edward 8. Ellis. a No. 2-THE BORDER SPY ; or, the Beanti- ful Captive of the Rebel Camp. By Lieut.-Col, Hazeltine. No. 3—XERMIT of the COLORADO HILLS. A Romance of the Pampas. By William H: Bushnell. No, Gold -Seeker’s Daughter. By William R. Eyster. No, 5—BOB BRANT, PATRIOT AND SPY. A Tale of the War in the West. By Edward Willett. No. 6—-THE GUERRILLAS of the OSAGE; or, the Price of Loyalty on the Border. By 8. 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Thomas Warren, 27, the Bushwhacker’s en No. 29—THE COTTON THIEF, A tale of en ere met ers Seana were No, 34-THE REGULATORS; or, Li in Arkandas Before the Wat. By Edward Will. No, 35-—-TOM WILEY, the Scout of the j North-west. By I. M. Nichois. No, 36-STUNG SERPENT, the Last Chief of the Natchez. By Captain Hamilton Holmes. “No, 37—BORDER BEN; or the Fatal Treas: ure. By James L. Bowen, No. 388—JULIA BARTRAM; or, the Seca Swamps. By Edward Willett, No, 39--ONE-EYED SIM}; or, the” Shon doned Forest Home. By Tames L, Bowen. » No, 40—8CUTTLED ; or, Bessie, the Slayor. By Roger Starbuck: No. 41—THE SILVER BULLET; or, ©» Backwoods Sompambulist. By Edward Wil * No. 42—MIKE, THE GUIDE; °°, Lost upor the Plains, By Fares I, Bowen. No. 48—BLACK STEED of the PRAIRIES, or, Days of Peril. By James L. Bowen.» No, 44—THE CUTTER’S CRUISE} or, the Mate’s Strategy. 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