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The Dingo Boys: The Squatters of Wallaby Range, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 26. "It Was Poor Old Shanter" |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. "IT WAS POOR OLD SHANTER" As was their custom now, the boys were outside passing the telescope from one to the other for a final look round, while the ladies clustered by the open door, loth to leave it for the closeness of their room, when the captain came round from the back and gave orders for closing. "I think we will try to run down a tub to the water in the morning, boys," he said. "There surely cannot be any danger now. I have been on the roof trying to make out a fire anywhere in the bush, and there is not a sign." He went in after the ladies, and, as Tim put it, the drawbridge was pulled up and the portcullis lowered; but just as the door was half-way to, Norman caught hold. "Look!" he whispered hoarsely; "what's that?" The others craned their necks over the stout plank which crossed the door, and gazed at something dark away in the lower pasture toward the river. Then they drew back, Norman closed the door, and began securing it, while Tim ran to the inner room. "Come and help to fasten this, uncle," he said quietly. "Eh? Yes, my boy," said the captain, following him, and Tim seized his arm. "Quick!" he whispered, "they're coming on again in front." The captain seized gun and ammunition; Uncle Jack and Sam German were roused from sleep, which was to last till they came on duty to watch; a few imperative words were uttered to the ladies; and once more everyone was at his post, waiting with beating heart for the attack. But it did not come. An hour had passed, then another, and when the captain whisperingly asked whether the boys were sure, and whether they might not have been deceived, and taken the black shadows of evening or a depression of the ground for an enemy, they began to think that they must have been mistaken. So the captain went to the back to speak to Uncle Jack and Sam German, who were there that night, the latter solacing himself with a pipe of tobacco, which he was smoking while his companion watched. "A false alarm, I think, Jack," said the captain. "So much the better." "But I don't mind. It shows how thoroughly the boys are on the Alert," he was going to whisper, but he did not speak, for at that moment there was a faint rustling overhead; the brothers pressed each other's hands, and Sam German laid his pipe softly in the chimney, took up his gun, and listened. The next minute the soft rustle continued, and a noise as of someone in pain was heard, while the listeners in the darkness knew perfectly that a black had lowered himself and stood barefooted upon the sharp spikes. Another attempt was made and another. The blacks, being emboldened by the perfect silence within, tried a fresh plan, which consisted in lowering down a heavy piece of wood, and began to batter the new protection. But a couple of shots fired up the chimney had the customary result, and there was silence once more. This was the most painful part of the attack, for every nerve was on the strain to make out where the next attempt at entrance would be made, and after the respite of the past peaceful days this fresh alarm seemed more depressing than even the first coming of the enemy. For the defenders could only feel how hopeless their case was, and as the captain thought of his wife's look that evening, he was fain to confess that he would have to give up and settle where the help of neighbours was at his command. All at once there were a couple of shots from the front, followed by a tremendous yelling, and then silence again for a full hour, when it was plain that the enemy were preparing for a rush at the back, where at least a dozen shots were fired before they drew back. Their tactics had been the same as of old, the blacks savagely rushing up to the doors and making furious thrusts with their spears, which were met now by large pieces of wood used as shutters and held across the loopholes, and as soon as they could be drawn aside, by the delivery of a charge or two of swan-shot. This went on at intervals, hour after hour, till a feeling of despair began to take possession of the defenders. Hot, weak, parched with thirst, and worn by the terrible anxiety that came upon them like a black cloud, their efforts were growing more feeble, when, in spite of a stern prohibition on the part of the captain, the girls brought them bread and water just as one of the most desperate attacks had lulled. One minute there had been the sound of spears striking window and door, while a breaking and rending went on as the blacks tried to tear away the wooden sides of the house, and climbed upon the roof; the defenders not daring to fire for fear of making holes through which spears might be thrust, and the next all was silent, and the tears started to the boys' eyes as the voice of mother or sister was heard pressing them to eat or drink. It was the same in every case: they could not eat, but drank with avidity, the cool water seeming to act as a stimulant, and thrill them with new life. "Back, quick, girls!" said the captain, suddenly; "they're coming on again;" and then he uttered a groan, for he had seen something which destroyed his last hope, and filled him the next moment with a maddening desire to destroy. If he could only hurl one of the little powder kegs he had brought so carefully right out into the wilderness--hurl it with a fuse amongst the yelling savages who sought their lives; and then he uttered a low laugh. "No need," he said to himself softly. "No need. We shall die avenged." "What's that, father--lightning?" said Norman, sharply; but there was no reply. It was Rifle who spoke next, but only to utter the ejaculation: "Oh!" But what a world of meaning there was in the word, as with a hiss of rage the boy thrust his piece from the loophole and sent two heavy charges of shot right into the midst of a crowd of blacks who were coming up to the house carrying fire-sticks and brushwood, with which they ran round and piled it up against the angle formed by the kitchen where it projected at the back. There was a tremendous yelling as the boy fired, and two men fell, while others ran about shrieking; but the mischief was done, and in a few minutes there was a burst of flame, and a peculiar pungent odour of burning wood began to find its way in and threaten suffocation. "What's to be done, father?" whispered Norman, as light began to show through the thin cracks or chinks of the wooden wall. "I'd say go out and die fighting like men, boys," said the captain, with a groan; "but there are women. Come, we must not give up," he added, and going to the loophole nearest to him he set the example of firing with unerring aim, whenever he had the chance, at an enemy. Uncle Jack followed suit, and in obedience to orders, the boys went on steadily reloading. But the side of the house was growing hot; the kitchen had caught, the crackling of the dry wood began to increase to a roar, and that side of the house was rapidly growing light as day, when Uncle Jack said in a whisper, which the boys heard: "Ned, lad, it's very hard for us, but we've had our day. Can nothing be done?" A tremendous triumphant yelling drowned any attempt at speaking on the captain's part, but as it lulled for a few moments, he said, "Nothing. We have done all we could." "Rifle, Tim," whispered Norman, in horror, "couldn't we get out by the front and take them down to the scrub? The wretches are all on this side." "Impossible, boys," said the captain, sternly. "Can't you hear? they are piling wood by the other door." Rifle uttered a sobbing groan, and just then there was a flash of light in the front, and a furious burst of shouts as a tongue of flame shot up past the loophole, accompanied by a crackling roar. "Your hands, boys," said a deep low voice, that was wonderfully soft and musical just then; "destroy no more life. God bless you all, and forgive me!" At that moment there was a burst of sobs; then it seemed as if all emotion was at end, and the little group gathered together, feeling that all was over, for already the smoke was forcing its way in by crack and chink, a feeling of difficulty of breathing was rapidly coming on, and the yelling of the blacks was growing strange and unreal, when Rifle sprang up from his knees. "Yes, yes," he shouted; and again with all his might, "yes!" For there was a wild shout close at hand. "Marmi! Marmi!" The yelling ceased, and all now started to their feet, for there was the beating of hoofs, and in rapid succession shot after shot, with good old English shouts of rage, as a party of mounted men galloped by, tearing on in full pursuit of the fleeing enemy. "Quick!" roared the captain. "Guns, boys, quick!" As he spoke he dashed to the front, tore down bar and board, and banged the door back. A burst of flame rushed in, but the brushwood touching the woodwork was being torn away, and through the flames they saw a fierce black face and two bare arms tossing the burning wood aside. "Marmi! Marmi! Rifle--'Temus! Coo-ee, coo-ee!" "Coo-ee!" yelled Rifle; and he tried to cry again, but the word stuck in his throat as he forced his way out over the burning twigs, his father next. "Sam! Jack!" yelled the captain, "your fork--anything. Boys--water." He rushed round to the back, closely followed by the black figure, on which the firelight glistened, and began tearing away the burning brushwood. This was being tossed aside by Sam the next moment, and then buckets of water were brought, and none too soon, for the angle of the house was now blazing furiously. But the water made little impression, and the captain shouted: "Quicker, boys! More, more!" "There ain't no more," growled Sam, sourly. "What!" "Stand back, all of you," cried the captain in a stern voice. "Jack! the women! get them to a distance. The place must go, and you know--" "Look out!" shouted Norman, and he ran forward and threw something at the bottom of the blazing wall. There was one sharp flash, a puff of hot flame, a great cloud of smoke, and then darkness, with the side of house and kitchen covered with dull sparks. "Hurrah!" rose from the boys; and the captain drew a deep breath, full of thankfulness. "All the powder from the big flask, father," cried Norman. "There must have been a pound." At that moment there were shouts, as a dozen mounted men cantered up, cheering with all their might, and the task of extinguishing the still burning wood was soon at an end. Amidst the congratulations that followed little was said about the blacks. "Come back?" cried a familiar voice, fiercely. "I only wish they would, eh, Henley?" "My dear Freeston," was the reply, "I never felt such a strong desire to commit murder before." "God bless you all, gentlemen," cried the captain in a broken voice. "You have saved our lives." There was a low murmur here from the rescuers. "But how--how was it?" asked the captain; "how did you know?" "Don't you see, father?" cried Rifle, indignantly; "it was poor old Shanter." "What? You went for help, Tam?" "Yohi," said the black simply. "Baal budgery stop along. All go bong." "My good brave fellow," cried the captain, seizing the black's hand in a true English grip. "Wow! wow! yow!" yelled Shanter, struggling to get free, and then blowing his fingers. "Marmi hurt mine. Burn hands, burn all down front, put out fire." "Tam, I shall never forgive myself," cried the captain. "Forgib mine," cried the black eagerly; "forgib plenty soff damper-- forgib mine horse fellow to ride?" "Yes, yes, anything," cried the captain, "and never doubt you again." "Yohi," cried Shanter. "Where big white Mary? Mine want damper." He hurried off to where the ladies were seated, trying to recover their calmness after the terrible shock to which they had been exposed, while the captain turned to the leaders of the rescue party. "And the black came to you for help?" "Yes," said Dr Freeston. "He came galloping up with a drove of horses, I don't know how many days ago, for it has been like an excited dream ever since. I ran to Henley, and we got ten stout fellows together, and rode on as fast as we could, but I'm afraid that we have punished your horses terribly as well as our own." "Oh, never mind the horses," cried Henley, "they'll come round. But we came in time, and that's enough for us." The captain could not speak for a few moments. Then he was himself again, and after all were satisfied that there was not the slightest danger of the fire breaking out again, proper precautions were taken to secure the horses, watch was set, and the rescue party had quite a little banquet in the kitchen, one which Rifle declared to be a supper at breakfast time, for morning was upon them before some of the most weary had lain down to sleep, and slept in peace. _ |
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