REVENGE OF THE BUSHRANGERS.FIRING OF THE FOREST

The punishment of Steel Spring was suspended, and the stout sword belt remained in the hands of Maurice, inactive, while all eyes were directed towards the heavens, from whence a bright light proceeded, which illuminated the open space where we stood, so that even the ghastly faces of the dead and dying could be observed with awful distinctness.

For a few minutes’ time, even the busy tongue of Steel Spring ceased to wag and each turned to the other, and asked the reason of such a bright light at that time and place.

“I think it’s the moon just rising,” one of the men ventured to say.

“There’s no moon to-night,” was the brief rejoinder.

“Then what is the meaning of the light?” was the inquiry; but no one seemed to fathom it.

Presently a few clouds passed over the heavens, and then we smelled smoke, of which they seemed composed.

“The bushrangers can’t have set fire to the stockman’s hut, can they?” asked Murden.

“They could not have crossed the prairie so soon, and the distance is too great to allow of such a reflection,” was my answer.

“Hark, I hear the cracking of bushes,” said Fred; “some one is approaching us.”

“Look to your guns, men,” called out Murden; “we do not know but this may be a device of the robbers to get a glimpse of us.”

The policemen cocked their carbines, and sheltered their forms from the bright light behind trees and bushes.

We heard the quick panting of a person who appeared to make his way through the bushes with difficulty, and the next moment the old convict sprang into the clearing, trembling with fatigue and agitation.

“You are all lost,” he shouted, sinking upon the ground, wringing his aged hands, and rocking his body to and fro.

“What do you mean, man?” demanded the lieutenant, sternly.

“I mean that there is no chance to escape the bushrangers have fired the forest!”

I felt the blood at my heart grow cold, for too well did I know the import of those dreadful words.

“How do you know this?” asked Murden, calmly.

“I followed the bushrangers when they fled, and mixed with them and talked with them, without being discovered. They discussed a plan for being revenged upon you and your men. They did not dare attack you, openly, after you caused the fire to be extinguished; so that Satan upon earth, Nosey, suggested that the forest should be fired at three different places, and that you would seek to escape from the flames by going in an opposite direction.”

“And what will prevent us?” asked Murden, glancing his eyes over his men, who were listening in silence to the revelation.

“All of the best marksmen are going in ambush to the left of us, waiting for your force to attempt to escape that way. They now guard the passes, and not one of us could get out alive,” groaned the stockman.

“But we can make our way through that portion of the forest which is not burning,” Fred said.

“Impossible,” muttered the stockman; “the flames are spreading with the speed of a horse, and even now a huge wall of fire bars us from the prairie.”

“Why did you not give us notice before?” I asked.

“I came to you the instant a torch was applied to the dry leaves and branches, but before I was twenty rods from the flames I could hardly have returned without danger of being burned.”

“Well, gentlemen, what is to be done?” asked Murden; “shall we stay here and be singed like dead rabbits, or shall we push through the forest and endeavor to escape the ambush?”

“In either case I don’t see but that our prospects of escape are hopeless,” said Fred, quite calmly.

“Hark!” cried the stockman, starting to his feet; “do you not hear the flames?”

We all listened, and a noise like the roaring of the surf on a beach could be heard, but apparently at a distance.

“That does not sound encouraging, I confess,” remarked Fred; “but I think that we can yet circumvent the devils.”

“How?” cried Murden, eagerly.

“Will you be governed by me, for a few hours?” Fred asked.

“Yes, and my men also,” answered Murden, heartily.

“Then let us commence work, for we have no time to lose. In the first place, collect all the powder that your men have, and cover it with dirt, a foot high, we want no explosion to dishearten the men, and encourage the enemy.”

“Do you hear, men?” cried Murden; “bring to me your flasks without a moment’s delay.”

The policemen hastened to obey the order, and a few shovels full of earth secured our safety in that respect.

“Now, then, as many of you as can use shovels and pickaxes, dig away at that hole, which Steel Spring commenced. Do not spare your labor, for a gang will relieve you, when tired. Dig deep and wide.”

“But I don’t see of what use that is to be,” remonstrated Murden.

“Remember that you have promised to be guided by me. Don’t stop to question, but see that the men work with a will, while I attend to other important duties.”

Murden no longer sought to fathom Fred’s motives, but grasped a shovel, and set an example of energy which his men were not slow to follow.

“Now, Smith, you and the stockman and Jack help me. Rekindle the fire, which has almost died out, and burn every stick of timber within reach on the left side of us. We will catch the bushrangers in their own trap, if they are not quick.”

“But vot is to ’come of me? Vho’s to take care of me? Vhere’s my friends?” yelled Steel Spring, making desperate efforts to break the bonds which confined him.

We were all too busy to attend to the wretch, and merely glanced towards him occasionally, to see if his bonds held; but Steel Spring was a man not easily discouraged, and every few minutes we were addressed with prayers and oaths, to make provision for his safety.

The fire, which Murden had given orders to extinguish, was easily rekindled, and then burning brands were thrown upon the dry bushes and leaves, raising flames that roared aloft and caught at the branches of the gum trees, and then spread to the trunks, and leaped from bough to bough, driving parrots and gaudy-plumed birds from their nests, that vented their displeasure at being disturbed by uttering hoarse croaks of rage.

“You will burn down the whole of the forest,” cried Murden, alarmed at the rapidity with which the flames were spreading.

“I had rather see it down, than a man in this company should be injured,” was the brief reply.

“Amen to that. But, Fred, it’s growing warm here. Is not the hole which we have dug large enough?” asked the lieutenant, wiping his brow.

“Not half,” replied Fred. “Do you see that long line of fire, which, urged by a strong wind, is rushing towards us like a furious wave of the ocean?”

“Well, a man can’t very well keep his eyes off of it when he knows that it is to crisp him up like a baked pig,” Murden answered, with a rueful look.

“We have hardly begun to experience the heat from that line of flames yet, and our only chance of escape is by entering the excavation which your men are making.” “I see, I see!” cried Murden, a new light breaking in upon him. “It is our only chance, sure enough.”

The officer spoke to the policemen, who, with coats off, were working like heroes, and they redoubled their exertions.

“The next question is, what shall we do with these wounded men?” Fred inquired. “We can hardly hope to save them all.”

“There is but one of my force wounded, and if it is possible to save him, I will; but as for these cutthroats, I see no chance for them.”

We looked into Murden’s face to see if there was any show of pity for the bushrangers, but there was none. He had already calculated in his mind that the robbers deserved death, and the sooner they died, the better for the county.

“Let us speak to your wounded policeman, and see if he can bear removal,” Fred said.

We passed over to the side of the clearing, where he was lying at the root of a tree which had as yet escaped the flames.

“Well, Sam, do you still feel like having another battle with bushrangers?” asked the officer.

There was no response. I stooped down and carefully removed the corner of a blanket from his face, and the open, staring eyes met my view. In the midst of the bustle and confusion, the spirit of Sam had taken its flight without uttering a groan, or one repining word. We gazed upon his face again, and left the corpse where we found it, to be licked by the greedy flames which were now roaring around on every side.

“We must burrow like rabbits,” cried Murden, “or we shall be burned to death. It seems already as though I could hardly breathe. A breath of fresh air would now be worth all the gold of Australia.”

“Don’t talk of feeling suffocated yet,” Fred replied, stripping off all of his surplus clothing an example which the rest of us were glad to follow; and to prevent it from being burned, we rolled it into one pile, and covered it deep with dirt.

“When the fire reaches the edge of the clearing, and the wind blows the flames within a few inches of our heads, and the earth blisters the skin at a touch, then I shall not blame you for asking for fresh air,” Fred continued.

“I certainly am obliged to you,” Murden said, with a rueful look; “but if you will explain how we are to keep those same flames from melting our brains while we are huddled in that hole, like sheep in a pen, I shall feel gratified.”

“Then I will explain immediately, for I see that only a few minutes will be allotted us by that moving circle of fire to make our preparations. Let the place which your men have excavated be covered over, with the exception of a hole to crawl into, with the pieces of half-burned timber which you see lying around.”

“For what purpose?” asked Murden.

“To save our heads from being burned, as they otherwise would, unless protected,” Fred replied.

“But the logs will get on fire.”

“Not if they are protected by a heavy covering of dirt,” answered Fred, composedly.

“An idea that I should not have entertained,” muttered Murden, in astonishment.

“But now that you understand me, hasten the men in their work, for already our clothes give tokens of singeing.”

Our situation was one which might well make a timid man fear for his life; for on each side of us the flames were roaring and surging like the grass of a prairie on fire, and over our heads the heavens were concealed by the black clouds of smoke which, urged by the wind, were traversing the sky at a rapid rate; and on that same night an alarm was entertained at Ballarat, ninety miles distant, that Melbourne had burned to the ground. So dense was the smoke occasioned by the consuming of hundreds of acres of trees in the black forest of Australia.

The five on the left of the clearing, which we had kindled to prevent the bushrangers from approaching us and thinning our numbers at leisure, had already assumed a fearful aspect, and was running along the ground rapidly. I hardly dared to stop my work and watch the scene, so fearful was it. I had serious doubts as to the practicability of the plan which Fred proposed, yet I gave no evidence of my want of faith, and encouraged the men with example and words, and when a number of the trees began swaying to and fro, as the fire consumed their trunks, I remonstrated against their seeking shelter until the work was entirely finished.

During our struggle to secure a place of safety, we had forgotten entirely the wounded bushrangers, who were stretched out, side by side, at the farther end of the clearing. Their cries for assistance, however, soon called our attention to the fact that we had made no provision for their safety, and while the policemen were hurriedly placing a roof upon our den, Murden and the rest of us held a brief consultation as to what we should do with the poor wretches.

“Speak quick,” exclaimed Fred, as a burning tree fell with a tremendous crash into the clearing, sending the sparks high into the air, and causing the atmosphere to seem like the breath of a furnace.

“Speak quick,” he continued. “We can endure the heat but a few minutes longer, and our lives are endangered by the falling of trees. Shall we save the bushrangers and perish ourselves, or shall we abandon them to their fate?”

“I am as humane as any man alive,” said Murden, “but I can’t think that I am called upon to expose my command to death for the sake of saving our most deadly enemy. Were there innocent and unoffending women here, I should know my duty and behave as become a man, but now I must remember that I am a commander.”

“I expected that you would prefer your men’s safety to that of robbers,” Fred said; “but as you are an interested party, we will hear what Smith has to say.”

“My life is as dear to me as the rest; but while I cannot see how we are to save the bushrangers, I would gladly give all my wealth for the privilege of so doing,” was the honest answer.

“Spoken like a man,” replied Fred, rubbing his side, which, owing to his neglect to turn at the right moment, was somewhat scorched.

Faint moans, uttered by men who stood upon the brink of the grave, hastened us in our deliberations. We glanced towards the poor wretches and found that they were endeavoring to work their maimed bodies towards us for the purpose of pleading for mercy.

There was one man, however, who did not move from the spot where the policemen had first deposited him, and although the flames were roaring within forty feet of his position, he merely turned a dimmed eye towards them, and appeared to be resigned to his fate. I thought I recognized his weather-beaten countenance and grizzly hair, and nearer inspection convinced me that my surmises were correct. It was the old sailor who had so manfully resisted the orders of Nosey, and insisted upon allowing me to administer consolation to the snake-bitten bushranger. “Here is a man who must be taken care of, if I go without shelter,” I said, pointing to the sailor.

“It is impossible,” Murden replied. “He is badly wounded, and would occupy the room of three or four men. Let us retreat, for already do I feel as though my lungs were being boiled.”

“You may go,” I answered, firmly, “but not a step do I stir until I see that old sailor provided for. He saved my life, and I will try and save his.”

“Don’t mind me, matey,” cried the wounded man, in a feeble tone; “my cruise is nearly up, and the log book will soon record my fate.”

“If you die you shall expire without the torture of fire. We cannot save your companions, and indeed hardly know whether we can save ourselves, but the experiment shall be tried.”

“Well, well,” Murden said, seeing that I was firm in my demand, “we will share our den with him. Lift him up, men, and place him in our vault as carefully as possible.”

The policemen performed the duty with an alacrity that I did not anticipate, and after I had seen the old sailor placed in a corner of the vault, and Rover by the side of him, I turned to join Fred and Murden, who were still arguing whether they could desert the other bushrangers and yet appear honorable in the eyes of the world.

“The old follow seems a little cast down,” said one of the police, as I prepared to leave the vault.

I answered in the affirmative, and was continuing on, when the man touched me on the arm.

“Hist,” he whispered; “don’t say a word, but it’s a little wine I have in my canteen which the old robber is welcome to, if you think it will do him any good.”

I grasped the treasure with more pleasure than I should have experienced had I found a bag of gold flung at my feet. I thanked the kind-hearted man for his offering, and in another instant. I had poured a portion of the contents of the canteen down the grizzly old fellow’s neck.

The drink revived him. He expressed his pleasure at my kindness by a glance from his sunken eyes that told of a warm heart, even if it beat within the breast of a robber.

“Thank you, matey,” the old man said; “but it’s of little use to try and right the hull when there’s a shot between wind and water, and the top-hamper is gone. Nevertheless, I take it in kindness.”

I could not reply, for I understood enough of his nautical language to know that he had given up all hope of living, and that the two wounds which he had received were fatal.

I returned the canteen to its owner, and hastened to join Fred and Murden. The fire was still working its way towards us on one side, and receding on the other. The heat, however, had lost none of its intensity, and every breath which we drew appeared to parch our lungs and consume us internally.

“Have you decided what to do with the wounded men?” I asked, as I joined my friends.

“Our first decision still holds good,” replied Murden. “We cannot save them and save ourselves.”

“Hark! Do you hear that shout?” Fred said.

We listened intently for a moment, and above the roaring of flames and crushing of trees we could hear the shouts of exultation which the bushrangers in a distant part of the forest uttered, as they thought how we were struggling for life.

That cry, so joyful in the thought of our misery, steeled our hearts against the wounded wretches, who, with uplifted hands, were praying for drink, for life, for protection.

“In, men,” shouted Murden. “We can endure the heat no longer. Already do yonder trees threaten to fall and crush us with their weight, and a minute’s delay may prove our ruin.”

There was no struggling to see who should first obey the order. With military precision the men filed in as calmly as though parading for a drill, and in a short time no one but Murden and myself were uncovered.

“Enter,” motioning to me. “I will be the last man who seeks shelter.”

“But what shall we do with this poor devil?” I said, pointing to Steel Spring, whose agonizing yells for help had often interrupted our deliberations.

Murden made no reply, but walked towards the scamp, who redoubled his calls for help when he thought it was to be rendered. The officer untied the hands which confined him, and without a word he retreated with us towards our vault.

Steel Spring eyed us for a moment, as though uncertain whether he was included in the invitation or not, but when he found that the latter was the case, he broke forth into lamentations that fairly rivalled the shrill yells of triumph which we had heard his companions utter.

He pleaded and threatened, promised and protested; and when he found that we were invulnerable and unmoved, he uttered curses upon our heads so bitter that it seemed as though he had spent all his life in framing them.

I crawled through the narrow opening and found that the men were seated so close together that not an inch of spare room was between them. A small space was reserved for Murden, Fred, and myself, but it did not look large enough to seat one of us comfortably. In the corner opposite to me was the wounded man, and partly resting upon one of the police was Rover, as quiet and orderly a dog as ever suffered confinement for the purpose of saving life.

“And von’t you take me in?” asked Steel Spring, as Murden entered our over-crowded den.

“Your miserable system of treachery does not entitle you to that kindness. Burn, and get a foretaste of what you may expect in the next world,” replied Murden.

“I’ll see you all hanged first,” was the indignant answer of the long-legged brute; and we did not hear another murmur escape him, although we felt that his sufferings must be intense, and his ultimate death certain.