First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

  A FALSE SCENT.

  Two days, three days glided by, and the convict was not found. Then aweek passed, and another, and he was still at large; but a letter wasbrought up from the post, a couple of the mounted police being thebearers. This letter, from the doctor, told that Sir John O'Hara wasdangerously ill, and that his life was despaired of; it was impossibleto leave him till a change took place; and the letter endedaffectionately, with hopes that Nic was managing the station well, andthat all was going on peacefully.

  The mounted police were going on to Mr Dillon's, and on their return inthree days they were to take back Mrs Braydon's answer.

  The men had just ridden off after a rest and a hearty meal, when, as Nicturned to re-enter the house and hear the letter read over again, he sawold Sam's head over the garden fence, and the handle of his spade heldup as a signal.

  "Want me, Sam?"

  "Ay, sir; come in here. I don't want Brooky to see me talking to you asif I was telling tales. We has to live together, and we're bad enoughfriends without that."

  Nic went round by the gate, and the old man sunk his voice.

  "He's been at 'em, sir."

  "Who has been at what?"

  "I don't mean what you mean, sir. Brooky got at them two police. Knowwhat that means?"

  "About Leather?" cried Nic.

  "That's it, sir. There'll be another hunt 'safternoon and to-morrer;and if they don't ketch him then, when they go back they'll take a'spatch from Mr Dillon, and we shall have a lot of 'em down here."

  Nic's face contracted from his mental pain.

  "Don't you look like that, my lad. They ain't got him yet. Do youknow, I shouldn't wonder if he's gone right away with Bung's tribe, andthey won't get him. But I say, Master Nic, you won't go over to theWattles, will you?"

  "No, certainly not."

  "But you'd like to hear?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "Then I tell you what, sir: just you tell our three that, as they'vebeen very good boys, they may have a holiday and go and get a good loto' bunya nuts."

  "Get a lot of what?" said Nic, in a tone of disgust.

  "Bunya nuts, sir: grows on them trees something like firs. They ain'thalf bad, I can tell you."

  "But I don't want to send them out nutting," said Nic. "They're betterat work."

  "You don't understand, sir. I saw them staring over the fences at theperlice. You give them leave, and off they'll go and watch everything,just as if they were on'y playing about. Then we shall knoweverything."

  In the result, there was very little to know; for when the threeblackfellows came back that night, they could only tell that there hadbeen a long hunt for the convict. They got to know, too, that there wasto be another next day.

  Then the police returned, received their letters for the doctor, and asthey rode off for their long journey to the port they told Nic inconfidence not to make himself uncomfortable, for they would be backsoon with a little troop and some trackers, and that then they wouldsoon catch the escaped man.

  "I don't suppose he'll venture near the station, sir; but if he does,and don't surrender, you're justified in shooting him down."

  Nic drew his breath hard as he went back to the house very thoughtfully,but he said nothing indoors.

  That afternoon he mounted, and sent the two collies nearly frantic bywhistling to them to come after him; and as they dashed on Nic rodeafter at an easy canter, to take a long round amongst the grazing,off-lying cattle, and carry out another project he had in mind.

  It was very pleasant riding there through the far-stretching, park-likeplace, and that afternoon the number of birds he passed was enormous,but Nic did not shoot at them. A large iguana, a hideous, dragon-likecreature, ran to a big tree, making Sorrel start as it crossed his path,and then the great lizard crept up among the branches, puffing itselfout, waving its tail, and looking threatening and dangerous. But Nicpaid no heed to it, instead of shooting it for the blacks' supper. Andtwice over large snakes were left unmolested, in spite of the furiousbarkings of the dogs, and their reproachful looks, which seemed to say,"Why didn't you shoot?"

  For Nic had been thinking that if he extended his round day by day, hewould, sooner or later, come upon Leather, who must be in hidingsomewhere near, for he would never dare to go right off into the wildsand seek starvation.

  There were the dogs too; and in all probability they would scent himout, and he could warn him of the coming of the police.

  But though Nic extended his rounds more and more, the days glided by,and neither in open glade, deep ravine, ferny gorge, hollow forestmonarch, nor dense patch of bush did he come upon the slightest token ofthe convict ever having been there.

  Then in despair he tried a new plan. He quietly got the three blackstogether and explained to them what he wanted, and rode behind them inhigh glee as they trotted on, spear in hand.

  "What a stupid I was not to think of this before!" he said to himself;full of confidence. But that night he rode back low-spirited and dull.The blacks had shown him holes in trees, out of which they choppedopossums; the lairs of kangaroos; the pool where a couple of egg-laying,duck-billed platypi dwelled; and trees bearing a kind of plum, andothers with nuts: but no signs of Leather.

  He tried the next day, and at another time would have been fascinated bythe unusual-looking objects the blacks pointed out; but now he wanted tofind the convict, and everything else was as nothing; for he feltcertain that if the party came over from Port Jackson, the result wouldbe that Leather would be hunted out, refuse to surrender, and be shotdown.

  But the trips with the blacks all proved to be dismal failures.

  Oh yes, they understood.

  "Plenty come along find Leather. Corbon budgery. My word, come along."

  But they found him not; and when bullied, they smiled, looked stupid, orshook their heads.

  "It's because they won't find him, Master Nic. They know all the time,"said old Sam.

  Acting upon this idea, Nic attacked the three blacks separately, tellingthem he was sure they knew where Leather was in hiding, and insistingupon being told; but the only result he obtained in each case was astare of surprise and puzzlement. The man's face puckered up, and atlast he mumbled out:

  "No pidney (understand). Mine no take Leather fellow in myall. Mine nobeen see it mandowie (tracks)."

  "Be off!" said Nic; and the others talked in a similar way, and went"off;" looking the quintessence of stupidity.

  "You're all wrong, Sam," said Nic, the next time he ran against the oldman.

  "What about, sir--them calves?"

  "No, no--about the blacks. I questioned each of them, and they were allas stupid as could be."

  "No, I ain't wrong, sir. You get 'em all three together, and promise'em plenty of damper, some sugar, and a pot each of your ma's jam; thenyou'll see."

  "I'll soon do that," said Nic. "They're in the wool-shed."

  "But Brooky's there, sir."

  "No, I saw him go off toward the fern gully an hour ago, with a gun uponhis shoulder."

  "Look here, sir. You'd better lock up all the guns, and keep 'em tillthey're wanted, or maybe we shall be having mischief done."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Mean, sir? As Brooky's always going about with a gun, and on thewatch. He don't want a gun to go and look round o' they cows. He feelsas Leather's close handy somewhere, and afraid he'll take him unawares.If you was to ask him, he'd tell you he was sure the blacks knew whereLeather's hiding. There, I'm sorry for him after all."

  "So am I, poor fellow."

  "Nay, I don't mean Leather: I mean Brooky. He can't even sleep of anight for fear Leather should come and pay him out. It sarves himright, I know, for he always was a brute to Leather; but there, he'sbeing paid back pretty severe. You go and talk to them there blackboys. You'll get it out of them with that jam."

  Nic strode across toward the wool-shed, and found the blacks jabberingaway hard
, and evidently quite excited; but they heard his steps, andthree rough black heads came softly into sight, one round each doorpost,and the other above a couple of broad boards which ran in grooves, usedto keep pigs or other animals from entering to make a warm bed in thewool. But the moment they caught sight of their young master theydisappeared, the middle man going off cart-wheel fashion, like a blackfirework, with arms and legs flying, so as to get behind a stack ofwool.

  "Here, you fellows," cried Nic, looking over the board, "come here!"

  "Baal go floggee blackfellow," protested Bungarolo.

  "No mine no flog," cried Nic.

  "Mas Nic corbon budgery (very good). All come along."

  This brought out the other two grinning.

  "Mine come fish?" cried Damper.

  "No; I want to find Leather fellow. You boys pidney where he is."

  The faces ceased grinning, and looked as if carved out of some burnedwooden stump, all hard, solid, and immovable.

  "There, I know: so no nonsense. You all take me and show me Leatherfellow's mandowie, and I'll give you plenty damper, plenty mutton,plenty sugar and jam."

  "Mine no find mandowie (tracks)," said Rigar. "You pidney (know),Damper?"

  "Mine no pidney," said Damper. "Mandowie myall. Bungarolo pidney?"

  "Bung no pidney," said that gentleman.

  "Yes, you all pidney--more sugar, more jam, more damper," cried Nic.

  But the men only stared blankly; and growing impatient at last with thethree ebony blacks, Nic left them to go back to Sam, but turned sharply,to see that they were all three watching him with their faces in a broadgrin.

  This exasperated him so that he made a rush back to look into the longdark shed, where he could see wool everywhere, but no traces of theblacks, who seemed to have disappeared.

  "I'll bring a whip," he shouted, and then went away, laughing at the waythe men were scared.

  "Sam's right," he said: "they are like big black children. Here! Hi!Samson," he shouted, and the old man came to meet him. "They don'tknow."

  "Don't know, sir? What makes you say that?"

  Nic related his experience, and Sam grinned.

  "And they laughed at you," he said, showing his teeth. "Why was that?On'y because they enjoyed being as they thought too clever for you,Master Nic. They know, sir; but it's no use--they won't tell. Theylike you and me; but if they'd speak out to us as they do to oneanother, they'd say, `No mine tell Leather fellow, Mas Nic, plenty minejam, damper. Leather fellow mumkull.'"

  "Mumkull? Afraid Leather would kill them for telling?"

  "That's it, sir, safe."

  There was something to stir the pulses of Nic soon after, and he somehowfelt glad that he did not know the convict's hiding-place, for a dozenof the colonial mounted police rode up, followed by half a dozen blacktrackers and a couple of chained and muzzled, fierce-looking dogs, whoseaspect sent a shiver through Nic, excited the indignation of thecollies, and drove Nibbler into a fit of fury, making him bound to theend of his chain so savagely that he dragged his tub kennel out of itsplace and drew it behind him, making him look like some peculiar snailyquadruped trying to shed its shell.

  "Better shut up your dogs, sir," said the policeman who had been oncebefore. "Letter for Mrs Braydon."

  The dogs were quieted and shut away, so that they could not commitsuicide by dashing at the powerful brutes held in leash; and once more,while the police were being refreshed, Mrs Braydon read her letter overto her children, who learned that the governor was no better, that thedoctor was bound to stay, and that while he regretted this, and the badnews about the assigned servant, every assistance ought to be given tothe police who had come to fetch him back to the chain gang.

  Nic said nothing, but after a time he saddled Sorrel, and rode with thepolice leader as they started for their first search.

  "Now, Mr Braydon," said the man, "your father said that we must takethis fellow; so as in all probability you know where he is, perhapsyou'll tell us which way to go and capture him."

  "I don't know," said Nic quickly.

  The man smiled.

  "You needn't disbelieve me," said Nic warmly. "I tell you I haven't theleast idea."

  "And if you had, you wouldn't tell us, eh?"

  "I'm not going to answer questions," said Nic. "But mind this: if youfind him, I won't have him shot down."

  "Then he mustn't shoot at us, sir," said the man, smiling, "so you'dbetter send him word if you know where he is. Forward!" he cried, andthe party trotted toward the Wattles, but turned off a little overhalf-way there, and to Nic's horror he felt that they had hit upon theplace where he and the convict parted that night just as the storm cameon. And here, after a few words from the head of the little force, twoof the blacks came forward and began to quarter the ground like dogs,their bodies and heads bent forward, and their eyes searching the grasswith the keenest eagerness.

  But it was a long time before either of them showed that he had foundsigns.

  Then one stopped short, dropped upon his knees, uttered a cry, and hisfellows ran softly up behind him, keeping close to each other, and beingcareful not to go near the track or whatever it was that he had found.

  Then began a low excited jabbering, during which the mounted men satfast, one of them holding the leash which restrained the dogs.

  At last the quick discussion ended, and the first black rose from hisknees and made a sign to the police leader to come forward, Nic withouthesitation following and peering over the blacks, who gave way a little,while the first pointed down to something which Nic expected to find wasa footstep, but which proved to be a big common knife, rusted byexposure to rain and air.

  This was picked up now and handed to the leader, while Nic's eyesdilated a little, for he felt sure that he had seen the knife before;and in the convict's hands, when he was eating his cold meat and damperbeneath a tree.

  "Yes," he said to himself with a little shiver, "that is his knife. Hemust have dropped it here. It had a buckhorn handle, and on the otherside three crosses had been filed pretty deeply." He remembered thatfact well.

  Just then the police leader turned round sharply, saw his interestedlook, and said, in a decisive, imperative tone of voice:

  "You know that knife, sir?"

  To gain time the boy held out his hand, drawing his breath hard, andstriving to control his voice and make it firm.

  Then, as he took the knife, he examined it as if in doubt, hesitatingabout turning it over, and then handing it back, saying firmly, "No."

  "That's a lie," thought the man, as he retook the knife, "and my lordhere is trying to keep the lair hidden. He knows."

  But the knife had no crosses filed in the handle, and Nic was breathingfreely, when he noticed that the black was pointing to something else--afaintly marked footprint, evidently made by a coarsely made sandal orshoe. Beyond this was another, and again beyond another.

  "That's right--go on!" rang in his ears, and the next moment the partywas again in motion, with the blacks bending low, and from walkingbeginning to trot, while the policeman pressed his horse closer toNic's.

  "Easy trail to follow, sir," he said. "Now, then, don't you think you'dbetter save us further trouble by taking us straight across country toyour man's form?"

  "I told you I did not know where he was hiding," said Nic shortly.

  "You did, sir, but I thought I'd save trouble. These birds are a bitdesperate when run down, and I'm sure you wouldn't like to see him shotwhen he refuses to surrender. Now, would you?"

  "No," said Nic, rather faintly.

  "Out with it then, and we'll take him by surprise--surround him afterdusk. Then it will mean a flogging or two, and another year in thegang, and perhaps a fresh chance. Better than being buried, sir, in thebush."

  Nic remained silent, but with his brow contracted.

  "Very well, sir, but you see. Why, I can trace that track as I ride.We could find him now without the blacks."

  Still Nic
held his peace, and rode on beside the man, as mile after milewas traced, leading, to the boy's surprise, toward the Bluff, butcurving off a mile from home, as if to go round it to reach the otherside.

  And so it proved, the blacks trotting on till they did pass the househalf a mile away; and Nic jumped to the conclusion that the poor fellowhad made for the fern gully, up which, somewhere probably on theriverside, was his lair.

  They went right on, without once being at fault, the footprints, withthe left sole badly cracked across, showing clearly at times in the softsoil, till the place where the black-fish were caught was passed, andthe valley slope mounted for the open ground, where the sheep was kickedinto the rift that ran down toward the water.

  From here the footsteps went right across toward the station, and theleading black ran them easily and triumphantly right up to the men'sbothy, at whose door Brookes stood hollow-cheeked and anxious.

  "Got him?" he cried hoarsely, when, to his surprise, the blacks dashedat him and had him down, while the leader secured and held up one of hisboots with the sole toward the head of the police.

  "Mine find," he cried, pointing to a crack across the sole; and Nicforced the nag away, and trotted off to the stable to hide his laughter,and then stood patting his horse, feeling quite heartsick from thetension now relieved.

  For he had made sure that so as to be in a place not likely to besearched Leather had come by night to the station, and that he would befound hidden in one of the piles of wool, whereas it was evident thatBrookes had been over to the Wattles, and had come that way back,searching along the fern gully, to make sure of Leather not being inhiding there.

  For two days more the police hunted in every direction, but neither thekeen eyes of the blacks nor the senses of the dogs were of any avail,and at last the search was given up.

  "We shall find him back here some day," said the head policeman, "ifhe's still alive. But,"--the man looked significantly at Nic--"theydon't always have life left in 'em when we do find 'em. Good day, sir.We may look you up again."

  They rode off, and the station was free of them, for they had made asort of barrack of the wool-shed, where the fleeces made mostsatisfactory beds; and as they grew less and less, Nic turned away, tosee the light all at once blaze, as it were, into his darkened mind.

  "How stupid!" he said, half aloud. "Why, I know where he is hiding,after all."

  He looked up, and there was Brookes watching him with curious eye.