Title: The Bushranger of Van Diemen's Land
Author: Charles Rowcroft
* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *
eBook No.: 0607171.txt
Language: English
Date first posted: September 2006
Date most recently updated: September 2006

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The Bushranger of Van Diemen's Land
Charles Rowcroft



INTRODUCTION.

IT is well known to those who have the opportunity of observing the
actual condition and the opinions of various classes of society in
this country, that a dangerous notion is prevalent, among those
especially where a misconception of the truth is most mischievous,
that a transportation to the penal colonies is not, as the law
intends, a punishment, but rather a change of country to be desired,
from the opportunity which it is supposed to afford for the rapid
acquisition of large fortunes in many ways; and for the sake of the
licentious liberty of action which the wide wilderness holds forth the
promise of, and which, to restless minds, presents so fascinating an
attraction.

The publication, therefore, of the following narrative, taken from
the oral communication of the facts by the party principally concerned
in the adventures to which they relate, may perhaps be useful, at the
present time, in counteracting the pernicious tendency of the false
ideas which prevail in respect to the penal arrangements of the
Australian settlements; and the circulation of the history,
inculcating the certain punishment and remorse which follow crime, may
assist in repressing that morbid craving after notoriety which of late
years has increased with such lamentable rapidity. With respect to the
curious psychological phenomena developed by the peculiar condition of
solitude to which the modern Cain, of which this history treats, was
exposed, they cannot fail to interest deeply all those who think that

"The noblest study of mankind is Man."



VOLUME 1.




Chapter I. The Arrival.

IT was on a fine spring morning in the month of September that a
vessel was seen to thread her way through D'Entrecasteaux' channel, at
the mouth of the river Derwent, on the southern side of Van Diemen's
Land. The sky was clear and bright, its usual aspect in the early
spring in those salubrious regions, and there was scarcely wind
sufficient to fill the sails, so that the vessel was able to do little
more than make headway against the tide, tantalizing those on board
with the sight of the land on either side, while the vessel remained
provokingly stationary in mid--stream.

The passengers in the vessel, which was a small brig of not more than
a hundred and twenty tons' burthen, were a gentleman, with his two
daughters. Major Horton had resolved to mend his broken fortunes in a
new world, where there was verge and scope enough for enterprise and
exertion. It was the hardihood, perhaps, of his previous career as a
military man, that had prompted him to dare in his humble bark, with a
scanty crew, the dangers of the seas for a distance comprehending the
half of the globe, and to approach fearlessly the coasts of a new
country, of the points of which no seaman on board possessed any
previous knowledge. His daughters were young girls of remarkable
beauty, and with all the delicacy of appearance which, it might be
supposed, would be impressed on them from a former life of ease and
elegance, and from the habit of frequenting the high society in which
they were born to move. They both partook of their father's
adventurous spirit and of his courage, though their outward exhibition
of those soldierly qualities was modified by their respective
dispositions.

Helen, the elder of the two, was tall and slight; strikingly
handsome; of a mind bold and prompt to execute her resolves; full of
ardour and enterprise; a fit heroine for a romance; fearless of
danger, and confident in her own resources. Louisa, on the contrary,
was mild and retiring; possessing almost the ideal perfection of that
amiable softness of woman which poets love to fancy, and lovers fondly
doat upon with affection the most abiding. Being only in her sixteenth
year, and two years younger than her sister, the gentle Louisa had
learned to look up to the more energetic Helen for advice and
assistance on all matters relating to the difficulties to which their
present course exposed them; and the love which the high-spirited
Helen bore to the affectionate girl was increased by the feeling of
the protection which her more masculine mind afforded to her less
intrepid sister.

The only other passenger on board was a personage of a very different
grade; and how he had come among them, and with what imaginable object
he had set forth to brave an adventurous life in the Australian
colonies, had more than once puzzled himself, as well as those with
whom he had become accidentally associated. This aspiring emigrant
rejoiced in the name of Silliman, which singularly accorded with the
character of the man, so that the name of Jeremiah Silliman seemed to
have become attached to the individual by some mysterious process of
elective attraction, exhibiting in his person an illustration of the
harmonious principle of nature which ever strives to amalgamate
together things congenial.

This young gentleman had first seen the light, or rather the smoke,
in Ironmonger Lane in the City; which fortunate circumstance, as he
was sometimes inclined to boast, conferred on him by birth the rank
and dignity of a citizen of London, invested with various privileges
and immunities, and with the inchoate right of exercising regal sway
over that imperium in imperio; all of which advantages, however, he
had sacrificed in his insatiable thirst of romantic adventures. Having
already made frequent dangerous voyages to Putney, Richmond, and
Gravesend, and on one occasion as far as Margate, he considered
himself a finished sailor; and when he first appeared in a blue jacket
and white trousers, and with an exceedingly diminutive round straw hat
aboard the Nautilus before she set sail from the port of London, he
quite imposed on the unsophisticated natures of the young ladies, who
flattered themselves that they had the advantage of being accompanied
by an accomplished mariner whose skill and daring would form a
valuable addition to the small crew which had been engaged to navigate
the vessel.

It was true that the mate regarded him with an extraordinary and
significant grimace when he appeared on deck at Gravesend in his
sailor's rig; but it was not until the vessel had reached the Downs
that the false pretensions of the cockney were made manifest by his
most urgent vociferations for the "steward." This little imperfection
was overlooked, however, during the voyage, as he had immediately
fallen in love with both the sisters, and as his services were found
convenient by the ladies, in performing many little offices, which he
did with invariable good nature, and with an intelligence, as Helen
remarked to her sister, of a lap--dog who had been taught to fetch and
carry.

The major, who had in his youth been a member of the yacht club,
considered himself quite competent to take the general charge of the
vessel of which he was the owner, and over which he presided as
captain, trusting to the mate, an excellent seaman, for the management
of the vessel and for assistance in its navigation. One boy for
steward, and another as "the" boy, whose prescribed duty was to be
perpetually in motion with an immense swab in his arms to sop up the
water which the little vessel was continually taking in, from the
proximity of its deck to the surface of the water, and nine sailors,
one of whom acted as the carpenter, formed the whole of the crew; but
thus slenderly equipped the good little ship had arrived in safety
over fifteen thousand miles of the ocean, to the entrance of the
channel which led to the promised land.

There was just sufficient wind to fill the sails and enable the
vessel to stem the rapid current of the channel. The mate examined the
chart; scrutinized the shore; heaved the lead; sounded the bottom;
looked over the side, and took a sight at an object on land to
ascertain if they made any the least progress. But the vessel seemed
riveted to the spot, and presented the appearance of active motion
without making the slightest advance.

"We shall have to anchor at last," said he to the major, who, with
his daughters and the assiduous Mr. Silliman, were assembled on the
deck, surveying the new country of their adoption with eager interest;
"there is seldom much wind, Horsman says, in this season in these
parts--except when it comes in squalls and gales--and what there is
seems to be dying away. We had better hold our ground, and wait for
the turn of the tide."

"We do hold our ground for the present," observed the major; "how
far are we from the shore to the left here?"

"Larboard;--why, I should say about couple of miles, not more."

"It is my opinion," said Mr. Silliman, who, on nautical matters,
considered himself an authority, in virtue of his sailor's jacket and
trousers, and supported in his assumptions by his little round hat,
which had grown excessively tarry during the voyage; "it is my opinion
that we had better send the boat on shore and examine the country; we
may perhaps make some discoveries, or meet with some of the natives,
or something. How I wish I could see a kangaroo!"

"I can see smoke," said Helen, who was looking through the ship's
glass, obsequiously held by Mr. Silliman, "just under that low hill
yonder."

"Some of the natives, perhaps," said her father; "there are no
settlers, I understand, so low down as this. I see;--I can see a curl
of smoke quite plainly; but now it grows less; and now I can see no
more of it. It seems to have been extinguished suddenly."

"We are making lee-way now," said the mate, "that's certain; the
wind has quite gone down, and the sails stick to the masts. Shall we
let go the anchor?"

"You know best, Mr. Northland; it is very annoying not to be able to
get up before dark; but I suppose there's no danger in these parts; we
are quite out of the way of pirates; and the natives don't know the
use of boats, the books say."

"Pirates and natives! major; no fear of them; I wish there was
nothing else to fear in this channel; you see it is very intricate,
full of shoals and headlands; and if it was to come on to blow, it
might be an awkward matter, weakly manned as we are."

Presently the grating of the cable against the davits informed all
on board of the resolution that had been formed, and in a brief space
the little vessel lay quietly at anchor in the stream.



Chapter II. The Plot.

THE detention of the vessel, which gave rise to so much mortification
on board, excited very different feelings in the minds of a party who
were watching their proceedings from the land.

This party consisted of seven men, of whom six were clothed in the
government dress of convicts suits of yellow; but the seventh appeared
in the ordinary garb of a gentleman, or rather of a merchant or
storekeeper; for there were too few idle gentlemen in those times to
allow of the latter distinctive appellation. They sat round the
remains of a fire which had been hastily kindled and as hastily
extinguished, as if in fear that the smoke from the burning wood might
betray their resting-place. The cause of their appearance in a spot so
remote from the dwellings of the colonists may be best collected from
the following conversation:--

"I wish we had some grub," said one of the yellow jackets; "it's poor
fun being in the bush without anything to eat; suppose we go aboard
that brig and ask for some provisions? we can say we are shipwrecked
seamen."

"And get grabbed and strung up," interposed another; "as if they
would be taken in with that gammon! Haven't we got our canary-bird
feathers on us, and won't that let 'em know what we are?"

"Curse on this livery!" said a third; "it doesn't give a man a
chance. If one does give the overseer the slip, these confounded rags,
that brand a man wherever he goes, betray us. I wish I could go about
like a native, without clothes. By-the-by, they say there are lots of
natives down this way. What shall we do if we fall in with them? We
have not so much as a pistol among us."

"We must use our clubs; one white man is enough for half a dozen
natives, any time."

"But their spears, man? Why, they will riddle you through in no time!
What can you do against long shots? And then, as to trying to come to
close quarters, why, you might as well look for a needle in a hay
stack as hunt for a native in the bush."

"You can't tell the devils from the black stumps of the trees; but,
for my part, I don't see what we are to do, now that we have got off,
without arms, and without provisions--"

"But we have a boat," said a strong deep voice, which had not
hitherto joined in the conversation.

"And what's the use of that? What's the use of a boat like that to go
to sea in? We can't get back to England in a boat. I begin to think we
have not got much by our venture?"

"We have liberty," said the same voice which had checked the
complainings of the men; "we have liberty; that's worth all!"

"But what can we do with our liberty, Mark? We can't live on gum and
opossums like the natives! And we can't eat the natives, neither;
though they say they eat the white people when they can catch 'em; and
that's not such a pleasant thing to look forward to.--I say, Mark,
what's to be the next move? As you're our captain, it is for you to
give us a lift out of the mess you have brought us into; and we want
it bad enough; for my very inside seems stuck together with that lot
of gum that I tucked in just now."

"I've heard say," said one of the party, "that the grubs of the blue
gum--tree are very good eating. I know the natives eat 'em. They take
them up by one end, and let them fall down their throat, as we do
oysters. A nice dinner for a gentleman--gum and caterpillars! But I
can't stand this! we must do something. I say, Mark, what's to be
done?"

The man thus addressed said nothing, but pointed to the little brig
riding quietly at anchor in the channel.

"Ah, yes; I see that craft plain enough; but what's the use of it to
us, unless they would give us something to eat, and, better than that,
something to drink?"

"Suppose we asked them?" said their leader.

"Ah! and get some handcuffs for answer."

"Suppose we entreated them to give us food?"

"And suppose they wouldn't?"

"Suppose we took it?" quietly replied their leader.

"Eh!" said several voices at once; "suppose we took it! why, you
don't mean by force?"

"Why not?"

"Why! what could seven unarmed men do against an armed vessel?"

"Nothing," said their leader, "by open force; but, when force cannot
be used, we can use stratagem."

"I tell you what, Mark, you are a clever chap, no doubt of that; and
you have a tongue that would almost carny a jailor out of his keys--
that's the truth--or you never would have talked us over to make our
escape without arms or provisions. But if you will show us how to get
some rum out of that vessel yonder, you will deserve to be captain of
the island."

"I will do more than that."

"More!" cried out all, excited by their leader's air of calm and
fixed determination.

"I will get possession of that vessel," said the leader, in a firm
and resolute voice; "and in that vessel we will make our escape from
this accursed place of shame and punishment."

"Well, that beats all! And how will you get possession of that tight
little brig, captain? Talk 'em over, and persuade them to make us a
present of it?"

"May be so; and if you are the man that I take you to be, and have
coolness and courage, and will follow my directions implicitly, I will
show you how to set about it."

"What, without arms?"

"Yes, without arms."

"And without fighting?"

"Perhaps."

"Mark, you're a regular trump! Don't let us lose any time. Depend
upon it that craft is as full of rum as an opossum of peppermint
leaves; settlers always think it the best investment they can bring
out to pay their men with. Now, captain, what are we to do?"

"You see," said the man who, by the common consent of his companions
and by the force of hi superior intellect, had been unanimously raised
to the bad eminence of their leader, "that the brig is now lying at
anchor, becalmed, with the tide against her, and with little chance of
wind till the sea-breeze sets in, in the afternoon. She will not
venture to float up with the tide in this dangerous channel; so that
she will be there, safe, for some hours. Now, she would, no doubt, be
glad of a pilot, and I dare say is now looking out for one."

"What's the use of that to us?"

"This use: I will be the pilot. Two of you shall go with me--only
two, to avoid suspicion; those two will pass for my government men;
that will account for their yellow dress. Fortunately, you see, my own
dress may serve for a pilot's; and in this way I will get on board the
vessel and look about me."

"And what's to become of us who remain behind?"

"We shall return for you, on the pretence that more hands are wanted
to work the vessel. My first visit will have disarmed suspicion of our
real object. Besides, I can say that the governor has established a
settlement on the other side of the hill, where the look-out is
towards the sea, for the purpose of lending assistance to strange
vessels; and--in short--leave the rest to me."

The band of desperadoes looked inquiringly at one another; each man
tried to read in his fellow's countenance his secret thoughts; for on
such occasions distrust, and suspicion, and jealousy, soon sow the
seeds of disunion among them. Every man is in fear of the treachery of
his neighbour; and, being conscious of his own individual selfishness
and knavery, he naturally suspects their existence in others.

"Who are to be the two to go first?" asked one of them, with a
doubtful air.

"You may cast lots for that," said their leader; "but they must be
careful to act up to their characters, because it is likely I shall
have occasion to call them thieves and rascals, and perhaps worse. You
will not mind that, I hope?"

"Not a bit; we're used to it: besides, hard words break no bones. But
it's a bold scheme, Mark; if they suspect you, you're done."

"It is our only chance," replied Mark; "and fortunate it is for us
that luck has thrown this opportunity in our way. Did I not tell you
that brave men are sure to succeed when they stand by one another?"

"Hurrah!" cried the men, their courage and expectations raised by the
animating words of their leader. "We will stand by one another to the
death! Now, captain, get on with the work. Here are six rushes; the
two that draw the shortest go first; the rest remain."

The choice fell upon the grumbler of the party and another man who
had not taken much part in the conversation, and who was of a meek and
quiet look.

"Now, Jemmy," said the former, "let us see which can make himself
look most like a government man."

"I could not compare with you, Roger, no way," replied Jem; "your
father and mother have given you such a gallows hang-dog look, there
would be no mistaking you in the best long-tail's toggery that ever
came out of store."

"Now," summoned Mark, "if you are ready, come along. And remember
your characters."

"Ay, ay, your honour," said Jemmy, touching his hat with mock
humility; "we will do the dodge as if we were convicts in earnest."

Roger laughed at this sally, and, the two worthies getting into the
boat, Mark Brandon took his seat in the stern, and they left the
shore.

In the mean time the party on board, when they caught sight of the
boat on the smooth surface of the water proceeding heavily towards the
brig, indulged in various speculations as to the character and
intentions of their approaching visitors.



Chapter III. Flattery.

IT was still early in the forenoon when the boat containing Mark
Brandon and his inferior confederates drew near to the motionless
brig, on the deck of which the passengers and crew were assembled to
view the first appearance of the occupiers of the new world. Their
surmises on its appearance were as various as their characters.

"There are three of them," said the major; "what can be their
object?"

"It's a sweet boat," said the mate; "it floats on the water like a
duck! But those are lubberly fellows in the yellow jackets; they don't
seem much used to handle an oar, to my thinking."

"Gracious! what an odd way to dress in!" remarked Louisa; "they must
be very fond of yellow."

"It's the livery, most likely, of the servants of the gentleman who
sits in the starn of the boat," remarked the cockney (he always said
starn instead of stern, because he thought the broader sound more
nautical). "Perhaps it is the governor coming to visit us?"

"It's a pilot, no doubt," said the mate; "though he is but a rum-
looking one, I see, by his coat-flaps hanging over; but pilots' tails
grow on this side of the earth. Well, perhaps he'll bring a wind with
him. Stand by, there, and ship the hand-ropes."

By the aid of these conveniences the supposed pilot swung himself up
on board, and, without betraying by a muscle of his countenance his
apprehension of the daring risk which he was running, should it happen
that any one on board was acquainted with the persons of the true
officials, he touched his hat in a respectful manner to the major, who
seemed the principal person on board, nodded to the mate, took off his
hat to the ladies, to the eldest of whom he presented a sprig of wild
geranium which he had plucked from a shrub on shore, and, having
glanced at the sails and gear with a professional look, he asked the
usual question:--

"Where from?"

"London," replied the major.

"I suppose you're a pilot?" asked the mate.

The pilot nodded an affirmative.

"What sort of berth have we got here? bottom good?"

The pilot shook his head:--

"Ah! very well," he replied; "if it doesn't come on to blow; but
this is a dangerous channel. All well on board?"

"All well," replied the major. "You see the whole of us," he added;
"our craft is but a small one."

"You don't seem to be strong-handed," remarked the pilot, carelessly.

"Only nine men with the mate, and the steward, and the boy, making,
with myself, thirteen--Oh! I forgot Mr. Silliman; he makes fourteen;
and, with my two daughters, sixteen in all."

The pilot looked at Mr. Silliman with an expression that a close
observer might have construed into an opinion, that he did not
consider it of much importance whether that young gentleman was
included in the number or not; but he examined the crew with more
attention. It did not seem to him that there was much fight in them if
it came to a struggle; but with the major, he saw in a moment, he had
to deal with a man of determination and energy; and the mate, too, he
thought, might prove an ugly customer. As for the rest, their air and
appearance did not affect him with any particular uneasiness.

"What chance of a wind?" asked the mate, who, sailor-like, was always
thinking of the wind or his sweetheart; "what chance of a wind? its
dull work sticking here."

"Do you want wind?" asked the pilot.

"Want wind!" exclaimed the mate, surprised at such an unprofessional
observation; "why, what else does any one want aboard ship but wind?--
'The wind that blows, and the ship that goes--'"

"'And the lass that loves a sailor,'" chimed in the smiling Mr.
Silliman, casting a sentimental look at both the sisters, which Louisa
laughed at, but which Helen returned with a look of scorn that made
the unfortunate cockney wish himself back within the sound of Bow
Bells. The pilot observed the look, but gave no sign of noticing
anything but the masts and sails of the vessel.

"I am afraid," he said with a serious air, "that you will soon have
more wind than you can make use of. Has any one on board been in this
part of the world before?"

"Not one of us," said the major, who began to be uneasy at the threat
of a gale of wind from such an authority as the pilot, and in the
midst of a channel that was imperfectly known:--"Not a man on board
has been in this country before, and we know nothing of the ways of
the place."

So much the better, thought the pilot. "I am sorry for that," he said
aloud; "however, the commandant will allow some of our men to lend you
a hand, I dare say. There is no fear of the wind coming on before mid-
day. First we shall have a dead calm, just as it is now; and then
there will come a burst from the Wellington Mountain that you see
peering over those trees yonder, that will spin you round like a
humming-top."

"Like a what?" said the mate ....

"The land on the right-hand side there."

"The right-hand side!" exclaimed the mate, again astonished at the
fashion of the sea-lingo in the new world.

"I mean to starboard, mate," said the supposed pilot, recollecting
himself; "but you know, mate, when we speak to ladies, we ought not to
make use of our nautical jargon. And I can tell you what, my friend,
the man that brought this tiny craft half round the globe safe and
sound, as you have done,--and in sailor-like trim, too,--I say that
such a man is a credit to the service, and I have no doubt the
governor will make a public proclamation of the feat, for the
encouragement of all future navigators."

The honest mate, albeit that the language of the pilot was not of a
description with which his rough ears had wont to be regaled among his
hardy messmates of the sea, was hugely mollified by this well-timed
compliment: and at once attributed the unseamanlike phraseology and
bearing of the pilot to the transmogrifying qualities of the new
country. The pilot then turned to the major:--

"You must have had great experience, sir, and great courage, too, to
take on yourself the charge of so small a vessel to this distant
place. It is the smallest craft, I think, since the time of Captain
Cook, that has visited these seas."

The major was excessively pleased at this flattering eulogium from so
experienced a person.

"And as to these young ladies, they do honour, sir, to their country.
Sir, they will be regarded by all Australia as the heroines" (here
Helen's eyes flashed, and Louisa shrunk back)--"as the heroines of the
new world. But you are short handed, sir, very:--however, this
gentleman was as good as an able seaman to you" (Jerry actually
thrilled with delight to the very tips of his fingers, and he shook
the pilot's hand cordially); "and you must have had a capital crew,"
he added, raising his voice, so as to be heard by those who were
lingering within earshot to catch any information from the oracle of
sailors in an unknown sea; "a capital crew, and every man of 'em a
seaman--every inch of him, or you would never have succeeded in the
exploit of bringing your vessel so far in safety, and with so few
hands; every hand must have been worth two, that's certain."

The official commendation of the pilot was immediately carried
forward, and it was received by the crew with no less satisfaction
than it had been devoured by their superiors.

"And now," he continued, after having noted every particular of the
vessel into which he could find an excuse for prying, and, after
having extravagantly praised the juvenile steward for the admirable
order in which he kept the cabins and their appurtenances, wondering
how they could contrive to find room for their arms in so confined a
space, and the boy having replied that they were all stowed away in
the lockers, the pilot took his leave "to make interest with the
commandant" to allow some of the best behaved men in the government
employ, and who could be trusted, to assist in securing the vessel
from the coming storm. It was with great difficulty that he defended
himself from the pressing offers of Mr. Silliman to accompany him,
which he was enabled to parry only by judicious hints of the
inconvenience which might arise to the vessel from the absence of so
efficient a hand at the present time; but he gave the major reason to
understand that as the commandant was stationed at an out-of-the-way
place, to which it was difficult to convey supplies, a few bottles of
brandy, &c., might be acceptable--a hint which was readily complied
with. Thus provided, the pilot returned to the shore, and the parties
on board hastened to pass their different opinions on his person and
demeanour.

"A very well spoken man," observed the major; "quite a superior man,
indeed, to what one would expect; but perhaps, like the rest of us, he
may have been better off in the old country."

"He has a very fine countenance," said Helen; "but there was
something in his look that did not quite satisfy me; he seemed to me
to be playing a part; but for what purpose, I'm sure I cannot
imagine."

"I thought him a very nice man for a pilot," remarked Louisa; "but
this little sprig of geranium which he gave to us has no smell; what a
deception, for a geranium to be without fragrance! A knavish Van
Diemen's Land weed in the disguise of an honest flower."

"He was a very determined-looking fellow, that," said the mate,
after some reflection, his mind dwelling with considerable
satisfaction on the praise which had been artfully instilled into the
unsuspecting ears of the honest seaman; "though I can't say he looked
much like a sailor; but I suppose they are not so particular in these
parts; and it's not to be supposed that a thorough-bred seaman who
could do better, would be dodging about here after a stray vessel now
and then. It wouldn't be worth his while. He's not a bad chap, for all
that."

"In my opinion," said Mr. Jeremiah Silliman, giving his little tarry
hat a vigorous slap to set it firmer on his head, which he held
considerably higher since the eulogistic observations on his nautical
qualifications so judiciously administered by the stranger; "in my
opinion that is the most sensible man I ever met with--the present
company always excepted:--he knows what a sailor is, that man. None of
your shore--going, conceited fellows, but a perfect sailor. I knew it
directly; I saw through him, though he did wear a long-tailed coat;
but I dare say that was because he couldn't get a regular jacket--like
mine."

In the mean while, the object of these self-satisfactory encomiums
was making the best of his course to the shore, not disdaining to take
an oar to make the better way, and in little more than half an hour he
had rejoined his fellows.

"What news?" asked his famished confederates.

"Rum, biscuit, beef, and brandy."

"Hurrah! Mark for ever!"

The provisions were rapidly consumed with the avidity of hungry men;
but as they were afraid of making a fire, lest the smoke should betray
their whereabouts, they divided the uncooked meat with the remains of
the bread into equal portions, of which each man took his share, to
provide against an emergency.

But of the "drink" their leader insisted ontheir being sparing for
the present, as the prize was too valuable to risk the loss of it for
the sake of temporary indulgence in liquor which they could revel in
on board in the event of their success. This argument prevailed
against the strong desire to make the best use of their time in that
respect; besides, they were aware of the difficulty of existing for
any length of time in the bush, where they would be constantly exposed
to danger from the natives on the one hand, and from the parties of
soldiers and constables who would be sent in pursuit of them on the
other; and that their only hope of ultimate escape from the death to
which their flight into the bush condemned them was some such chance
as the present. The much--longed-for spirits, therefore, were placed
in the custody of their leader, and the men, sober and steady, after
having been perfectly instructed in the parts they were to act, rowed
in a vigorous and orderly manner to the devoted brig.



Chapter IV. Danger.

THE appearance of so many yellow jackets, some of them in a
condition of considerable dilapidation, and their wearers, for the
most part, of most villainous aspect, rather surprised the people on
board; but the persuasive pilot lost no time in making the major and
his officer understand that their condition was the result of their
exposure to the hardships and labours incident to a new location in
the bush; where it was necessary to cut out roads, build huts, and
clear away timber, without regard to the devastations or habits of
roughness which such employments produced in the habiliments or
manners of the working portion of the projectors. The present men, he
assured them, "had been carefully selected by the commandant from
nearly a hundred and fifty government servants working on their
probation, and that seeing the great peril to which the brig was
likely to be exposed, he would not allow the men to change their
clothes, but had sent them off as they were, thinking the safety of
the vessel and the security of those on board (whose skill and
courage, he said, had filled the commandant with admiration) of much
more importance than the appearance of the party despatched to assist
them."

It would seem as if fortune favoured the conspirators in this subtle
plot; for at the moment of their coming on board, a gentle play of
wind came down the channel, slightly rippling the surface of the
water, thus justifying the cautionary forebodings of the supposed
pilot; at the same time that a gathering of light clouds was seen on
the lofty summit of Mount Wellington in the distance. The whole of the
scanty crew were gathered together in a body, curious to look at the
new comers, so that their leader judged it would be too hazardous to
attempt a surprise at a time when all the male protectors of the
vessel were on deck, and ready to defend themselves. He waited,
therefore, for a more fitting occasion. The opportunity presently
presented itself. The mate, after exchanging a word of approval with
the major, without waiting for the authority of the pilot, went
forward with the crew to weigh the anchor; for the tide was beginning
to flow, and with wind enough to give the vessel steerageway, it was
desirable that not a moment should be lost in working the ship out of
the dangerous channel in which they were confined.

The leader of the band at once seized the opportunity:--

"Here, my lads," he cried out to his yellow-jackets, "take the
capstan--bars in your hands, and work away cheerily; show the boys on
board what you can do. These capstan-bars," he observed significantly,
"would form good weapons in case of need."

His followers took the hint. They possessed themselves of the bars
instantly, and looked to their leader. But Mark saw that it was not
yet the time; the sailors were all on deck, as well as the major and
the steward, who were in the stern of the vessel, and within reach of
the hatchway of the cabin in the lockers of which the arms were
deposited. Besides, it was an important object with them to get the
vessel speedily under weigh, and to contrive to put out to sea, for he
calculated that the authorities at Hobart Town would not be long in
ascertaining their escape from the barracks; and the boat, which would
soon be missed, would make them aware of the object of the absconders.
With these thoughts, he urged his men to put their strength to the
work, and in a few minutes the anchor was apeak, and the vessel under
sail.

"We shall be able to beat up now," said the mate, cheerfully, and
rubbing his hands; "the wind is getting up, and soon we shall have a
stiffish breeze if it holds on."

"We shall never be able to work up with the wind dead against us,"
said the pilot; revolving in his mind some expedient to get the
vessel's head put the other way; "you have come in by the wrong
passage; you ought to have gone round, and made your way up by Storm
Bay."

"An ominous name," observed the major, "for an entrance into a new
country!"

"You have plenty of sea-room there," said the pilot; "and if it does
blow, you can keep off the land; but in these narrow channels, what
with the juttings out of land, and the shoals, and currents running in
all sorts of directions where you least expect them, it is difficult
to get through them with a fair wind--much less with a wind right in
your teeth as this is."

"Perhaps it would save time to go back," said the major, "and make
the other passage?"

"The tide would be against us," said the mate.

"But the wind is against you now," observed the pilot; "and that's
worse, if it should come on to blow hard, and there's every appearance
of it. You see Mount Wellington has put on his nightcap, and that's
always a sign of a gale. But you are too good a seaman," he added to
the mate, "not to know the advantage of having sea-room in a gale of
wind. And it would be a sad thing," he continued, turning to the
major, "for this little vessel to be lost after having come safely all
the distance from the other side of the globe."

The major was struck with the apparent candour and justice of these
observations, and looked at his officer inquiringly. But that clear-
headed and plain-dealing son of the sea could not be made to
understand that the nearest way to a port was to sail away from it. He
sturdily resisted the proposition.

"If the worst comes to the worst," he said, "we can let go the anchor
again, and that will hold us on; even though it should blow great
guns, which, upon my word, looks likely, for the breeze is freshening
up every minute, and I don't like the look of those mares' tails to
windward yonder."

"And how will you get your anchor to hold?" pursued the pilot. "It's
all very well there-abouts," pointing towards the spot from which the
vessel was flying at a rapid rate; "but this channel has scarcely any
anchorage ground, as every one knows; why, most parts of it are paved
with rocks as regular as the Strand in London! You would never get
your anchor to bite--much less hold!"

"We might gain time, after all," said the major to the mate, "by
trying the broader passage; this wind would soon take us out of this
strait; and we should be at the same distance from Hobart Town as we
are now, in a few hours, with a better chance of beating up. How long
does the wind last in this quarter," he asked the pilot, "when it
blows fresh?"

"Three days; always three days; it's as regular as a clock. Every
inhabitant of the colony knows it; it's a sort of proverb among the
towns--people to say, that a thing will last as long as a three days'
spell from Mount Wellington."

"I think we had better take the pilot's advice," said the major; "he
must know best."

"I can't gainsay that he ought to know best in these parts, which he
understands the ways of, and I don't," replied the officer; "but I can
never agree that the shortest way to a port is to go away from it; and
as to this wind--why, it's nothing to what we have gone through
before!" But at this moment, as if to belie the honest seaman's
judgment, and to aid the iniquitous designs of the conspirators, a
furious blast from the north called the attention of all on duty to
the care of the vessel; and the pilot, profiting by the opportunity,
immediately put her before the squall with her head towards the
entrance of the channel. The squall passed over as quickly as it came,
but the pilot still continued his outward course, though not without
the expression of considerable dissatisfaction on the part of the
mate, whose suspicions of the ignorance of the pilot became
strengthened by a course of proceeding so contrary to the worthy
officer's experience in the practice of navigation. But as his
employer, the owner of the vessel, was an assenting party, he
submitted, though with a very ill-grace, giving vent to his
displeasure in a succession of grumblings much resembling the sound of
the north wind, which was roaring and increasing behind them.

Nor were the crew of the vessel better pleased with the proceedings
of the Australian pilot, who, they were not long in detecting, with
that almost instinctive knowledge possessed by sailors of their
brothers of the ocean, had very small pretensions to the name of a
seaman. But as they were only humble subordinates on board, they had
nothing to do but to obey, though the pilot saw by their looks that
they were not in a humour to submit tamely to any overt aggression. He
waited, therefore, patiently, till an opportunity should occur to put
his plan in execution; for it was not until the crew were below, and
his own men conveniently disposed about the hatchway of the
passengers' cabin, that he could hope to get possession of the ship's
arms, and be in a position to command success.

The retrograde course of the vessel, however, inspired a general
gloom over all on board, except those interested in its execution, and
who were anxiously waiting for the signal of their leader to adopt
measures more open and decisive. The sisters felt a vague presentiment
of evil arising from the disappointment of being obliged to recede
from the long-desired haven of their hopes and fears, the encompassing
hills of which were in tantalizing sight; nor could the major divest
himself of a certain feeling of dissatisfaction with himself for
having yielded to the authority of the pilot in opposition to the
opinion of his officer.

But the storm, which rapidly increased, seemed to justify the
pilot's apprehensions, and the major felt ashamed to suspect the
judgment of a man who had so clearly warned him of its coming. The
mate, also, was almost shaken in his opinion; but as the gale
increased, he had no thoughts for anything but the safety of the ship,
which, urged by the furious north wind, made her way rapidly back to
the entrance of the channel, and stood out towards the open sea.



Chapter V. The Pursuit.

IN the mean time the flight of the prisoners had not escaped the
vigilance of the authorities at head-quarters; but it was not until
the discovery of the abstraction of the boat which had been left
unguarded at the further end of Sandy Bay, which lies to the right as
you look from Hobart Town towards the sea, that the party made ready
for the pursuit of the runaways could be put on the right scent.

Thus guided in their search, the pursuing party, consisting of two
constables and a corporal's party of soldiers, embarked in a light
boat made of the aromatic white pine, a wood of peculiar lightness,
which is obtained chiefly by the labours of the convicts at Macquarie
Harbour to the west of the island of Van Diemen, and which is
admirably adapted, from its lightness, elasticity, and toughness, for
the construction of whale-boats. They had four sailors from the
government armed brig to use the oars, and the whole party was well
armed, as well to guard against any attack on the part of the natives,
as to be in an efficient state to contend with the bushrangers, should
they have been able to supply themselves with arms. It seemed that
their business was considered in no ordinary degree of a serious
nature, as the wife of one of the constables accompanied him to the
jetty where the party was to embark, where she took leave of him with
much appearance of affection:--

"You will be making a widow of me, one of these days," said she, "if
you go on these dangerous expeditions; and Mark Brandon is not a man
to be taken alive without a scrimmage."

"Never fear," said her considerate helpmate; "there's plenty of
husbands to be got in Van Diemen's Land; that's some comfort for all
of you. I'll be bound before the end of the week you'll have another."

"A week! you brute! Do you think I don't know what's decent for a
respectable woman to conform to? A year, you mean; that's the regular
mourning; or, at the least, six months, as it's not a regular country,
and only a colony. To be sure, Kitty Flurriman did marry again one
month after her poor man met with his misfortune;--it was a shame to
hang such a good-looking man as he was;--but to think that I would do
such a thing at the end of a month, or even two months!"...What
definite time the lady might have fixed as the ne plus ultra term of
widowhood it is impossible to say, as the boat was now out of hearing.
The conversation, however, on Mark Brandon was continued in the boat.

"Who is this Mark Brandon?" asked the corporal, who was a sub--
officer in the "Buffs," a battalion of which had recently arrived in
the colony.

"Don't you know Mark Brandon?" said the constable with some surprise;
"why, he's as well known here as Dick Turpin in the old country. He is
the most famous bushranger that ever went out. He was pardoned by the
governor only last year, when he was cast for death; but you see,"
said the constable, winking his eye, "there was a lady in the case."

"Oh, ho! handsome fellow, eh?"

"As clean-made and good-looking a fellow as ever you set eyes on.
Here's a description of him in this paper." The constable read from
the list:--

"'Mark Brandon, five feet eleven inches in height; broad-shouldered;
waist slim; foot small; brown hair; blue eyes; fair complexion; his
hands rather white and delicate.' Then here's the description of the
others: 'Roger Grough, James Swindell---'"

"Never mind them just now," said the corporal; "tell us about this
Mark Brandon: what was he lagged for?"

"Smuggling;--at least so they say; but of course you can never get
the truth of what they are sent out for from the prisoners; but I
believe it's the truth in his case."

"That was nothing very bad," remarked the corporal.

"Bad! no: nobody thinks anything of it here. It's only when a fellow
has done anything at home that's unfair and mean, such as murders and
robberies, and such like, that he's looked down on. But as for
smuggling! bless your heart, nobody thinks much the worse of a man
here for that, nor at home neither, so far as I know. What is it? It's
only giving the go--by to the government: Lord love you! what's the
harm of that?"

"How was it, then, that they treated this Mark so bad as to drive him
to take to the bush? Has he been doing anything wrong here?"

"Why, you see, he was assigned when he came over, to a master up the
country; and some of the settlers treat their government men
dreadfully severe, and Mark couldn't stand it; and when his master
threatened him with his cattle-whip one day, he knocked his master
down. He might have got off if he had suffered himself to be taken
before the magistrate, for the settlers are not allowed to strike
their men. But Mark's blood was up, and he took to the bush--that was
more than two year ago--and of course he robbed the settlers' houses
of tea, sugar, and ammunition, and things; but he never shed blood;
only tied people neck and heels together, and things of that sort--
very wrong of course--but not near so bad as some."

"Bad enough, to my thinking."

"Well; he was taken at last, as they all are, sooner or later, and
cast for death; but somehow interest was made with the governor--and
they do say a certain lady had taken a fancy to him--but that's no
business of mine; and so the best was made of his case, how it was,
through the tyranny of his master, that he was driven to take to the
bush; and how civil and polite he was to the settlers that he robbed,
especially the ladies, and so he got off. But they made him work in
chains, and that's what galled him, I dare say. He was not the chap to
stand that any ways."

"And what sort of a man is he?" asked the corporal; "a lady's man?"

"When he has a mind to it, they say, he is the most carnying devil
that ever came over a woman. But he is a most determined fellow for
all that. He will not be taken alive, you may depend upon it; for he
must know he has nothing to expect but to scrag for this last break-
out."

"Of course not: then I suppose we may look out for a tussle." The
soldiers at this mechanically handled their firelocks.

"Are the bushrangers armed?"

"We don't know; but it stands to reason that they never would start
for the bush this way without arms and ammunition; for it's not like
the interior where they might get arms from the settlers; there are no
inhabitants down the river but the natives."

"There goes the signal up!" said the corporal; "some vessel in
sight."

"I see," said the constable; "we may fall in with her, perhaps, when
we get further down the river. But where to look for these fellows?
that's the point! We think they made away with the boat last night,
just after dark, so that they have a good start; but they can hardly
do anything with such a boat at sea, for she was but a small one, and
had nothing in her but her oars. If they are after going round the
coast, they will take the western side, so as to avoid the track of
vessels between this and Sydney; and so we will keep away to the right
towards the channel, and keepand a sharp look-out as we go by."

With this view they hugged the shore on the west, and a breeze soon
after springing up, with the assistance of their sail they made rapid
progress down the river without seeing anything suspicious in their
way. The constable, who had the direction of the party, as the most
experienced among them, was inclined to make a stop after they had
proceeded some way down the channel; but at this moment, in turning
round a projecting point of land, the steersman caught sight of a
vessel in the distance, which was standing across the channel, and
beating her way up under a stiff breeze on the larboard tack; when
suddenly the vessel, which was made out to be a brig, and of small
burthen, was seen to change her course, and under a press of sail,
make her way down the channel.

This strange manoeuvre roused the suspicion of the pursuers of the
runaways, and as their boat was light and fast, they determined to
endeavour to overtake the brig, not without some misgivings that the
cleverness and the daring of the celebrated Mark Brandon had enabled
him to get possession of the vessel.



Chapter VI. The Stratagem.

THE gallant brig had nearly reached the entrance of D'Entrecasteaux'
channel when the squall from Mount Wellington ceased as suddenly as it
rose; and presently the wind was lulled into a calm. The experienced
mate, however, was not to be deceived by this suspicious suspension of
the blast.

"What are we going to have now?" he said to the leader of the
bushrangers, whom, in his capacity of pilot, it was his duty to
consult: "I don't like this lull; they are only getting ready a fresh
hand to the bellows, I fancy. I suppose the wind shifts on this side
of the world much as it does on t'other. I think the bank right
ahead--to the south, yonder--begins to rise."

"You are quite right," replied the supposed pilot; "and with such a
man as you on board you have no need of a pilot; the vessel is quite
safe in your hands: you seem to know the way of the winds in the New
World as well as if you had been born among them. A better seaman I
never...."

"Avast there, mate!" said the honest officer; "you give us too much
of that; why, you have got the gift of the gab like a sea-lawyer! To
be sure this is not the first time I've looked the winds in the face.
But we had better try to put her head about; if it comes on to blow
from the south, it will be a fair wind for us up the channel."

"Better get out," said the pilot, "and have searoom; when it comes
on to blow from the southward it always blows great guns; and this is
a nasty channel to be sticking in--full of shoals and rocks, and
headlands stretching out in every direction."

"You seem to have taken a great dislike to the channel," replied the
mate: "for my part I don't see any great harm in it: and Horseman says
it's good enough if you mind your soundings; and the chart is clear.
What makes you so anxious to get out of it?"

Two or three of the yellow jackets were standing in the fore part of
the vessel near the pilot and the mate during their brief colloquy,
and it struck the worthy officer that there was an expression in their
faces incongruous with their characters; and he thought he observed a
glance of intelligence pass between one of them and their leader. A
vague suspicion crossed the mate's mind; but as there was nothing
definite to give it substance, it passed way for the moment, but
afterwards it recurred to him. As he went aft to take the orders of
the major, he heard a voice, which it seemed to him proceeded from the
same man whose look he had observed, ask in a low tone:--

"Is it time?"

The mate turned round, and gazed inquiringly at the group in the
forecastle.

"Is it time?" he repeated; "time for what?"

"He was asking," replied the pilot, rather hastily, "if it was time
to go about: but I see the major has come on deck; we will consult him
as to what he would like to do with his vessel." Saying this, he went
aft, following the mate.

The sisters were gazing listlessly at the land from which they were
unwillingly receding with the change of tide, and the gallant Mr.
Silliman found it impossible to inspire either of them with those
feelings of mirthful gaiety with which they were accustomed to receive
his assiduities. The major was supporting his youngest daughter by the
arm, as the motion of the vessel from the broken sea rendered it
difficult for her to stand on deck. Helen, on the contrary, stood
erect and alone, with one hand grasping the bulwark, and the other
holding the ship's glass, which she condescended to allow Mr. Silliman
to support at the other end, to keep it steady. The honour of this
position was perfect bliss to that enraptured individual, who made
extraordinary exertions to call into exercise the utmost dexterity of
his sea legs, so that the view of the beautiful Helen might not be
disarranged.

"Do you see anything, Miss Helen?" he ventured to inquire in a tone
of extreme insinuation.

"Nothing but the brim of your ugly hat," replied the lady.

"Bless me! I beg a thousand pardons; it's the rolling of the sea:
there again; I hope I did not hurt you: now do you see anything?"

"I see something. Papa, come and look through the glass just as it is
now. Stand still," she said to Mr. Silliman, "and do try to be steady:
a pretty sailor not to be able to bear the rolling of the ship! Look,
papa, I see something like a swan."

"A swan! my love: then it must be a black one, for all the swans are
black, they say on this side of the earth. A swan! my dear; no it's no
swan, but the sail of a boat that you see, I think.--Mr. Northland,
what do you make of it?"

"A boat with her square-sail up," pronounced the mate, with
professional precision, after taking a brief earnest look at the
object. "She looks like a large whale-boat by her make; but she is too
large for that work,--she is coming down with the tide. What do you
say to it, pilot?"

There was a visible embarrassment, on the part of the supposed pilot,
at this communication. A slight paleness came over his countenance, as
if he was struck with some uncontrollable emotion, and then his face
flushed with excitement. As he looked round with an attempt to appear
unconcerned, he encountered the eye of Helen, which was fixed
steadfastly upon him. He quailed for an instant beneath the
penetrating gaze of that brilliant eye, and, hastily taking the ship's
glass from the mate's hands to cover his confusion, he directed it
towards the object; but his hand trembled, and the glass shook
visibly.

"Rather a shaky hand," remarked the mate to the major, in a whisper;
"but there's no duty on grog in this part of the world."

The whisper of the mate seemed to discompose the pilot a little. He
took his eye from the glass, and searched the countenances of the
bystanders; but seeing nothing in them to alarm, he applied himself
again to his scrutiny of the boat.

While he was so employed, Helen made a sign to her father to come
near her. They moved round to the side of the binnacle, leaving the
pilot, with his back towards them, looking through the glass.

"Papa," said Helen, in a whisper, "I have been watching the
countenance of that man. He changed colour when the mate spoke of the
boat. Depend upon it, there is something about that boat that troubles
him."

"It must be fancy, my love; there can be nothing in the appearance of
a boat to disturb the pilot. It is only fancy."

"Dear papa, it is not fancy. I cannot be mistaken in the countenance
of that man; it is one of the most remarkable I ever saw. I watched
him; and I am sure that the boat in sight has had some powerful effect
on him. He does not look like a man to be moved by a slight cause."

"Well, my dear girl, the shortest way is to ask him.--Pilot," said
the major, addressing the bushranger, "what do you see in that boat to
disturb you?"

"To disturb me!" replied the pilot, regarding the major fixedly. "Why
do you suppose that the sight of that boat disturbs me? What do you
suppose the boat has to do with us--I mean, with me?"

"But what do you think of her?" interrupted the mate, who was a
little out of patience with the lengthened examination of the pilot.
"You have had a pretty long spell at the glass; long enough to make
her out, I'm sure. What do you think of her?"

"I will take another look at her," replied the bushranger, who was
anxious to gain time to enable him to devise some scheme to counteract
the dangerous approach of the boat, which, he had no doubt, had been
despatched after him and his associates by the government authorities;
"I can see her plainer now."

"And what do you make of her?" repeated the mate.

"It's only a boat," replied the bushranger, continuing to look
anxiously through the glass.

"Well, if it's only a boat, there's an end of it," said the mate.
"There's a light air coming from the southward," he said to the major;
"I suppose we may stand up now with the wind in our favour."

"But the tide is against us," observed the pilot, "and if it comes on
to blow--and I don't like the looks of that bank which you first
observed rising yonder--you would find yourself cramped in this narrow
channel."

"I'll never agree to go out of the channel with a fair wind up,"
exclaimed the mate. "Why, friend, you are for not going up the channel
any way! Before, it was the wind that was against us, and then we were
not to go up; and now that we are getting the wind, it is because the
tide is against us that we are not to go up! Beg pardon--no offence
meant; but, to my thinking, you don't want us to go up the channel at
all?"

"The boat is coming nearer," cried out Mr. Silliman, who, as all the
others had done with it, was allowed to use the glass: "I can see it
as plain as can be; and they have taken the sail down, and they are
pulling with all their might, I can see. They have got the tide in
their favour, and they will soon be down on us; we shall hear some
news now! Hurrah!"

The bushranger snatched the glass out of the exulting Mr. Silliman's
hand with an abruptness which made that astonished individual open his
mouth with surprise. With a firm hand, and with a certain air of
determination, he applied the glass to his eye, and directed it to the
still distant boat, which, however, propelled by the oars of the
pursuing party, and assisted by the tide, was rapidly approaching the
brig. Helen had observed the impetuous motion of the pilot, and had
watched his varying countenance as he gazed through the glass.
Prompted by an irresistible impulse, she gave vent to her vague
suspicion of danger, and spoke:--

"Sir," she said to the pilot, "I am sure there is something about
that coming boat which disturbs you. You know something about it, you
do--I am sure you do," she repeated, her eyes kindling, and her cheeks
reddening with excitement. "If there is danger, do not deceive us, but
tell us in time, that we may be prepared for it. Do not suppose," she
said, taking hold of her sister's hand, "that because we are women we
are afraid. We have looked on the dangers of the sea without terror,
confident in our skill and our courage; and we can look without fear
on this new danger--for danger there is, I know, by your look and
manner at this moment, Speak, I say, and let us know at once what the
danger is?"

The spirited words of the heroic girl unfortunately inspired the
bushranger with a happy thought. He seized on the suggestion of danger
from the boat with the readiness of practised dissimulation. Forming
his plan on the instant, he replied without hesitation, and with an
expression of feeling and interest in the welfare of the women which
disarmed suspicion:--

"Major, I fear your gifted daughter is right. I wished to make my
communication when they were gone below; but there is no time to be
lost; and these courageous girls shame us with their spirit. But I
will do justice to their courage! and say at once there is danger....
..."

"Danger!" said the mate, looking about him: "where from?"

"Danger!" repeated the major, in a voice of mingled surprise and
emotion, and clasping his youngest daughter with instinctive
tenderness,--"danger from that boat?"

"Yes," replied the supposed pilot; "and there is no time to lose if
we are to defend ourselves. That boat, I have no doubt, contains the
party of bushrangers that broke away from camp some days ago: the
commandant at the look-out has had notice of them; and their design
must be to endeavour to take this vessel. They are well armed; it is
supposed there are about a dozen of them: and as the villains are
desperate, they will make a determined attack on us. However, I for
one am ready to fight for you; and if you will arm your men, my people
shall work the vessel while they defend us."

"Let it be done at once," said the major. "This is a most unlucky
accident! However, it is fortunate that we have you on board to help
us." So saying, he descended to the cabin in all haste to prepare the
arms and ammunition.

The bushranger, meantime, went forward, as if for the purpose of
giving directions to the party under his control. As he passed his
confederates, he said, in a low firm voice, to each of them:--

"Be ready."



Chapter VII. The Attack.

THE consummate art of the bushranger in proposing that the crew of
the vessel should be armed, while his own men undertook the management
of the vessel, had its intended effect. There was no suspicion on the
part of the major or of his people that the approaching boat was
really in pursuit of the absconded prisoners on board the brig; and
the activity of the supposed pilot in preparing the means of defence
was regarded as corroborating evidence of the danger threatened to the
vessel. All was activity on deck; muskets, pistols, and cutlasses were
brought up from the cabin, and ammunition was disinterred from the
lockers: and the bushranger took care to provide himself amply with
the means of defence or offence, as the case might be.

Still he was well aware that the moment was critical and most
perilous. He was now in the worst position: his confederates were
defenceless; the sailors of the vessel were armed, and prepared to
resist aggression: and the boat, which he had no doubt contained a
government party in pursuit, was coming nearer and nearer every
minute. But with a coolness and courage worthy of a better object, he
bided his time, and waited with patience for the result, which he
calculated must take place when his men attempted to work the vessel.

At this time a brisk breeze had sprung up from the south, which gave
the advantage to the brig over an attacking boat, as it enabled the
vessel to choose her position. The increase of the wind rendered a
corresponding arrangement of the sails necessary; but here the
ignorance and blundering of the supposed pilot's men was too provoking
to be endured by the angry mate:--

"What do you call your fellows?" he broke out to the pilot: "do you
call that chap a sailor? See how he handles a rope! By----! look at
that fellow sticking in the shrouds! There's another creeping through
lubber's hole! That's right, my man, take care of your precious limbs!
Oh! this will never do," he said to the major; "these men will never
work the vessel: such a lubberly set I never set eyes on! There goes
the jib! Hold on there, hold on! By----! you'll have the maintopsail-
yard down by the run. Pilot, hold your men off. What's the use of such
a pack of fools? Keep an eye on the boat, some one, can't you? A
pretty set, that don't know the main-sheet from the topsail-halyards;
and they can't fight! No, not they! I should like to know what they
are fit for?"

"Do you think your men would stand by us?" asked the major, eagerly,
of the pilot; "you see we want our own people to work the vessel."

"Fight!" said the pilot; "they will fight like devils, depend upon
it, when the time comes; but of course you can't expect them to be
used to arms," he added carelessly: "however, they will do their best.
Come aft, my men." They quickly came at the voice of their leader.

"The major says he wants his sailors to work the vessel; and he asks
me if you will stand by us to defend the brig from the bushrangers
coming on to attack us in the boat yonder?"

The diligent Mr. Silliman, who was examining the boat through the
ship's glass, cried out at this moment, "I can see the men in the
boat, and I can see the gleam of some muskets: the boat is full of the
rascals!"

"Make haste, then," said the bushranger; "relieve the sailors of
their arms; and be ready to use them," he said, significantly, "when I
give the word."

The exchange of duties between the sailors and the conspirators was
the work of a minute only; and the crew of the vessel became
immediately busied in trimming the sails and attending to the ship;
while the supposed pilot and his gang stood with arms in their hands,
ready to pounce on their unsuspecting victims.

The bushranger felt that the time had come when he must strike a
decisive blow; but first he ran rapidly over in his head a scheme to
get the major and his chief officer below, in order that the crew,
being deprived of their leaders, might be more easily mastered: his
object was unexpectedly furthered by the officious Mr. Silliman.

"Major," said that bustling individual, as he hurriedly loaded his
musket with an excessively martial air, "would it not be better for
the young ladies to go below? they will only be in our way on deck,
and hinder us from fighting."

"We shall work the better," put in the pilot, "if we are assured that
your daughters, major, are out of the reach of the bullets."

Louisa, who was very pale, assented to this suggestion without reply;
but Helen, who was flushed and excited, remonstrated and resisted. "I
can fire a gun," she said, "as well as any of you; any woman can do
that: and where my dear father is there will I be also:" and saying
this she seized a musket, and held it in the attitude of a heroine
prepared for war.

It required all her father's entreaties and, at last, commands to
induce her to descend into the cabin. The major was obliged to lay
down his weapons and accompany her below. The bushranger saw his
opportunity, but the troublesome Mr. Silliman came breathless to the
entrance of the companion-way, and bawled "Major, major, I can see the
red coats of soldiers in the boat!"

"Soldiers!" said the major; "what can that mean? But they are in my
line; I'll soon be up and give a look at them."

"Mr. Northland," called out the pilot, "the major is asking for you
below; something about the dead-lights, I believe."

"Aye, aye, sir," said the mate, as he ran aft; "look out, pilot, the
boat's upon us;" and by an indescribable process of locomotion, which
sailors alone possess, he dived down below, and his head disappeared
in a twinkling.

The bushranger immediately made a sign to four of his men who were
near him to close the hatchway: it was done in an instant. At the same
time he presented his own musket, which he cocked with an audible
click, at the man at the wheel. Mr. Silliman observed these
extraordinary manoeuvres, which altogether exceeded his nautical
experience, with inexpressible astonishment; but before he had time to
make up his mind what to do, he was seized by two of the bushrangers,
disarmed, and on his resisting, with the courage of desperation, their
attempt to bind his hands and feet, was without ceremony pitched into
the sea.

"That was wrong," said Mark Brandon, quietly; "never take life if you
can avoid it: but the boat will pick him up; and after all, perhaps,
he was of no great value."

In the mean time, the carpenter, who was a cool and determined
fellow, with three of the crew, armed themselves with the capstan-
bars, resolved to resist, though unable to make out the reason or
object of the sudden attack on them by the pilot and his followers;
but the bushranger, rushing forward with four of his fellows,
presented their muskets; and the sailors, taken unawares and in
amazement at the suddenness and strangeness of the proceeding, and
seeing, besides, that resistance was hopeless, quietly surrendered.
The rest of the crew were as easily brought under subjection, and,
having been bound hand and foot, were placed singly in convenient
places below, and in less than ten minutes the vessel was in the
possession of the marauders.

"Now, my men," cried out Mark Brandon, "a cheer for liberty!" His
associates raised a wild hurrah, which conveyed to the inmates in the
cabin the information that the vessel was overpowered; but by whom or
how was a mystery! The mate put his head out of the stern window, but
the bushranger was too well on his guard to permit such an escape;
and, meeting the muzzles of two muskets close to his face, the enraged
officer was obliged to retreat, though not without venting his
discontent in a vigorous volley of nautical abjurations.

Mark Brandon now took the helm, and, making a gesture of defiance
with his fist at the still distant boat, he immediately turned the
vessel's head back again towards the south; and, under all the sail
that she could carry, the captured brig making short tacks stood out
to sea.



Chapter VIII. Information.

THE unfortunate Mr. Jeremiah Silliman made more philosophical
reflections during his rapid evolution from the deck of the brig to
the waters of the sea, than had ever occurred to him in the whole of
his previous life. The first dreadful thought that presented itself to
him was that he could not swim! but before he could give vent in words
to the novel sensations which assailed him he found himself plunged
under the waves, and descending beneath them with a velocity
proportionate to his specific gravity and the precipitancy of his
descent. As he felt himself hurrying down to those abodes, which in
the poetical simplicity of his imagination he had been wont to picture
as the dwelling-place of sea--nymphs with green gauze robes and coral
necklaces, but which he now contemplated with affright as abounding in
enormous crayfishes and voracious ground-sharks, deeply and
energetically did he lament that his love of the romantic had led him
away from the peaceful haunts of Cheapside and Cornhill to the
villainous shores of Botany Bay; and much did he marvel at the
disagreeableness of his reception into the bosom of the land of his
adoption.

Such and so sad were the curious reflections which were suddenly
forced on him by the novelty of his situation; and still he went down
and down, as it seemed to him, and deeper and deeper still, till his
thoughts became confused, and he felt a cold, fishy sensation, as if
he had became partially transformed into the semblance of a scaly
inhabitant of the deep; gradually his feelings became blunted; his
last thoughts were of the brig from which he had been unceremoniously
cast, and the bright eyes from which he was for ever separated,--even
in the last moment he could not make up his mind which he preferred--
and then the dimness of death came over him;--he mentally uttered a
fragment of a prayer, and all was oblivion!

The party in the boat, however, had not failed to notice the
summerset involuntarily performed by the luckless individual in
question: and the occurrence, indicating that violence was going on in
the brig, confirmed the suspicion to which the unaccountable changes
in her course had given rise,--that the bushrangers had got possession
of the vessel.

"There's bloody work going on, I'm thinking, on board that craft,"
said the constable, who was sitting with his face towards the head of
the boat. "I saw one chap pitched overboard plain enough: I wonder
which party he belonged to."

"Give way, my men," cried the corporal, standing up in the boat, and
looking through a glass with which he was provided. "I can see the
body, it has come to the surface of the water; it's not above half a
mile from us. Give way--stick to your oars--and we shall save him yet,
whoever he is!"

The men bent stoutly to their oars, and in a few minutes, the tide
being in their favour, they shot up alongside of the floating body,
which they caught just as it was sinking for the last time. The
lifeless corpse as it seemed, was quickly hauled into the boat, and a
brief consultation was held as to the best means to be adopted for its
recovery.

"Nothing better than a bit of salt beef," suggested an old sailor:
"rub it well in; I know it recovered a man off Yarmouth--at home--that
had been in the water more than four hours: the salt, you see, rouses
him up, if there's any life in him."

"This is not one of the bushrangers," pronounced the constable, as
they stripped off the clothes from the drowned man in order to give
him the benefit of the salt beef recipe prescribed by the old sailor;
"this must be one of the people of the vessel; he looks like a sailor
by his dress, but his hands are too smooth for that; perhaps he's a
passenger."

"Rub away, my hearties," urged the sea-doctor; "rub it into him, and
if there's any life left, the beef will fetch it out."

The body of the unconscious Jeremiah was excoriated accordingly,
secundum artem (salsi junki), the boat continuing its pursuit of the
vessel nevertheless, as the surmises of the officials were confirmed
by the appearance of the body which they had rescued from the water.
At last, after a prodigious quantity of rubbing, which reduced the
person of the apparently deceased to a substance closely resembling
the material which was made use of as a flesh-brush, signs of warmth
were observed in the body, and presently a sigh was ejaculated which
indicated returning sensibility. The progress of the boat was
suspended for a few minutes at this interesting success of the old
mariner's surgical operation, and the attention of all was directed to
foster the breath of returning life which the stranger now exhibited.
The result was speedily favourable;--the man, rescued from death, sat
up, and looked around him.

"How do you find yourself, my hearty?" said the corporal; "you have
had a narrow escape."

The stranger stared at him unmeaningly.

"Who are you?" asked the constable, anxious to ascertain the
condition of the vessel, and to learn some tidings of the bushrangers;
"what's your name, and who are you?"

But the intellects of the poor man had been too much obfuscated by
the salt water, to say nothing of the subsequent scarification to
which he had been subjected, to understand where he was, or what had
happened to him.

"Can't you tell us who you are?" repeated the constable, impatient to
get at some information for his guidance; "what are you?"

"A freeman of London, and a liveryman," answered Jerry, his mind
wandering to former scenes.

"His wits are a wool-gathering," said the constable.

"It's the water that's swamped 'em," said the ancient mariner; "salt
water grog's poor stuff at any time, 'specially without the rum: and
this cove has had too much of it for one bout."

"What are you, and who do you belong to?" repeated the constable,
giving the reviving man a little shake in his impatience.

"The Chandlers' Company," replied Jerry; "and so did my father before
me. I'm a freeman, I say--and a liveryman; and if I don't shoot the
centre arch of Battersea bridge...."

"What company did he say he belonged to?" asked the corporal, "the
Chandlers'? He means Captain Chandlers!--Ask him what regiment? And he
said something about shooting; I can't make it out at all."

"It's not that," said the constable; "but he seems plucking up a bit.
How is it now with you, my man? We have saved you from drowning. Who
was it that chucked you overboard from the brig yonder? Have the
bushrangers got possession of the vessel?"

The word "bushrangers" seemed to strike some responsive chord in the
bewildered man's memory.

"Bushrangers!" said he, "bushrangers! Ah, that's it! The bushrangers
have got me, and now I'm done for!"

"No, no," said the corporal; "we are not bushrangers: look at our red
coats; we are soldiers going after the bushrangers. Look here, man,
bushrangers don't keep their arms bright like ours. Can't you tell the
difference between a bushranger and a gentleman in his Majesty's
service? Look at our firelocks; bushrangers can't show such tools as
these!"

By degrees, the recovered Jeremiah began to understand what had
happened to him, and the character of the party who had saved him from
drowning. He was excessively rejoiced at his fortunate escape, and
vowed manfully that if he could only come across that insinuating
rascal of a pilot, he would serve him out for his ungenteel behaviour.
He narrated all the events that had happened; how the chief of the
gang had introduced himself on board as a pilot; the plot which he had
schemed to get his confederates into the vessel; and the art with
which he had contrived to transfer the arms of the sailors to his own
followers, under the pretence of leaving the crew of the brig at
liberty to manage the vessel in the approaching encounter with the
boat which the major was made to believe contained the runaway
prisoners who actually were on board all the time.

"By George!" said the constable, "that is Mark Brandon all over! That
man would circumvent the very devil himself! It's impossible to be up
to all his dodges! But what's to be done now? The wind's getting up,
and that's all in favour of the rascals on board the brig. How many
did you say there were with Mark?"

"Six others," replied Jerry. "And now I recollect we all thought them
most desperate-looking ruffians: but that Mark Brandon, as you call
him, is quite a genteel person; there doesn't seem to be much harm in
him."

"Didn't he chuck you overboard?" asked the corporal.

"No; it was two other chaps. Mark, as you call him, was standing by
the man at the wheel with a cocked musket presented at his head."

"Just like him!" said one of the sailors; "that's their way. Somehow,
all the bushrangers take to the same ways. When they attack a man they
make him throw his arms above his head, and then they stick the muzzle
of a fowling-piece, or a musket, if they have one--but they don't like
muskets, they are so heavy to carry about--close to his ear; and then
what can a man do? No pleasant thing, I can assure you; I have felt it
myself."

"But what's to be done," repeated the constable; "are we to attempt
to attack the bushrangers in the brig with this boat? Let us see;--how
many are we? Four at the oar--two of us constables, and the corporal
with his two men--that's nine; and with the new comer, ten against
seven: we can do it easily, corporal."

"If we could only get at them fairly, we could do it," replied the
corporal; "but the odds would be against us with a vessel under sail:
they could fire on us from the protection of the sides of the vessel;
and four of our party at least would have to use their oars. There
ought to have been more of us."

"There are more of the bushrangers," replied the constable, "than
were reckoned on in camp to have made their escape; it was supposed
that only Mark and two others had gone off: but half a dozen, with
Mark Brandon at the head of them, is a formidable party--and all well-
armed too!"

"There will be the major's party on board, as this gentleman says, to
help us; and, as the major has seen service, he would know how to
second us if it came to a brush."

"Lord bless you!" replied the constable, "you don't suppose the
bushrangers will be troubled with the crew of the vessel; bless your
heart! they'll get rid of'em in no time."

"What, murder them in cold blood!"

"Ay, any way: why their rule is, never to give away a chance: depend
upon it there's not one of the crew left alive at this moment."

"What! nor the old major neither!" exclaimed the corporal, his
professional sympathies excited for the fate of an officer; "will they
kill the major, think you?"

"Have killed him," said the constable; "they have killed him, I'll be
bound. You're new in the colony, corporal, and don't know the ways of
these fellows: they make short work of it when it serves their plan to
do so. Do you think they would keep a witness alive to hang them?"

"But the young ladies!" interposed Jeremiah; "the poor major's
daughters! They would never kill them! They couldn't be such brutes as
to kill two young girls!"

"Are they pretty?--though that would not matter much with
bushrangers:--but are they pretty?"

"Both," replied Jeremiah, "very beautiful; the elder one--that's
Helen--she's about eighteen; she is very handsome: and Louisa--she's
about sixteen; she's very beautiful: I don't know which is the
handsomest of the two; but Helen is the spirited one."

"Then Mark will take her, and the rest will cast lots for the other;
so they will be saved--likely. The spirited gal would be just Mark's
taste."

"Better be both dead than suffer that fate," said the kind-hearted
Jeremiah. "I'm sure Louisa would die, and Helen would kill herself, at
the thoughts of it! But I say, corporal, you will never let those
rascals murder and go on that way without making an effort to save
them! I'm sure those ill-looking sneaking ruffians would never fight
if it came hand to hand."

"That's the difficulty," said the corporal: "if it was hand to hand
we could manage them, because we could fire three times to their once;
besides our being steady and used to handle our arms."

"There will be no fight hand to hand, or any way," said the
constable, as a violent blast from the southward nearly overset the
boat, "if it comes on to blow, as it looks likely, I think our best
plan is to get under shelter in some creak somewhere, for I think we
are going to have a regular hurricane from the south by the look of
those clouds rising up yonder like blocks of black wool."

The attention of all in the boat was now peremptorily directed to
their own safety, as the wind rose and the storm increased to fury.
The same squall was observed to assail the brig, now dimly seen
through the murky atmosphere. In a short time the sky was enveloped in
darkness, as the gathering winds prepared from the thick curtains of
the clouds to expend their rage on the agitated waters.



Chapter IX. The Summons.

MARK BRANDON, by one of the most daring stratagems in the annals of
piracy, had got possession of a vessel admirably adapted for his
purpose, and the crew, bound hand and foot, were stowed away here and
there in convenient places; but still he felt he was not quite secure;
the major and the mate were unbound; and, although confined in the
cabin, and unable by themselves to cope with seven desperate men, it
was possible for them to be dangerous; and the bushranger had too much
experience in the power and resources of even a single man not to be
alive to the possibility of the escape, and the successful resistance
of two determined spirits--the one having at stake his pride and
reputation as the chief officer of a ship, and the other urged by the
still more powerful feeling of a parent struggling for the
preservation of the life and honour of his daughters. Filled with
these thoughts, but attending anxiously at the same time to the course
of the vessel, he turned over in his mind a scheme to entice the
officer on deck, and to neutralise the hostility of the major. The
increasing storm favoured his project.

In the mean time the parties in the cabin were a prey to the most
agonising anticipations.

"This takes one all aback!" said the mate, quite confounded by the
unexpected aggression of the pilot and his followers. "Many a rum go
have I been witness to; but this beats all! Who are these fellows? I
never liked the look of that soft jawing pilot and his men, as they
called him. And all the arms are on deck. This is what I call being
thorough done!"

"I am afraid," said the major, "that the case is too clear; in
short, we have been deceived all along; and this sham pilot is some
desperate man with his gang endeavouring to escape from the island."

"By George," said the mate, slapping the table with an energy which
at any other time he would have considered an unpardonable breach of
good manners in the state cabin, and in the presence of ladies, too;
"that's it; and that accounts for the rascals shying the up-passage,
and trying to get out of the channel with every tide, and with every
wind that blew! That's it! we're hard up! and we shall have all to
walk the plank, every one of us; I know what that game is in the West
Indies! But it's hard for you, Miss Helen, and for you, Miss Louisa:
it dosen't matter for the like of me; it all goes in the day's work,
as sailors say: but for you--" and here the worthy mate gave the table
a tremendous thump with his fist in the excess of his emotion. The
sound was echoed from the outside of the cabin window from the nozzle
of a musket.

"What's that?" cried out Louisa alarmed.

"That's a summons, Miss," said the mate.

"Better not to frighten you, but I suppose they want us to walk the
plank; not you, perhaps," he added, "nor your sister; but me and your
papa. Major," he said, turning to their father, "you don't mean to
give in without a struggle?"

"What can we do?" said the major; "we are unarmed: better make terms
for the girls."

"Better drown them at once," said the honest seaman, having before
his eyes the scenes of horror which he had seen and known in the seas
prolific of piracy in the West Indies; no use mincing the matter. "If
they were sisters of mine, I know what I would do."

Helen calmly rose at these words: she first kissed her father, and
then her sister, and then extending her hand to the mate, she shook it
warmly. Without speaking, her gestures sufficiently intimating her
intention, she sought in the steward's locker for a large table-knife:
she selected one with a point, tried its sharpness, deliberately with
her finger, and placed it in her girdle; she then resumed her place by
the side of her father.

Louisa observed her proceedings with trembling interest. When the
high-minded Helen took her hand in her's she shuddered convulsively,
and placing the other hand before her eyes, as if to shut out at once
the peril with which she was threatened, and the aspect of the
Lucretian death meditated by her sister, she threw herself into the
arms of her father. The major embraced her with despairing tenderness;
the tears ran down his manly cheeks; and he lifted up his head to
heaven as if he would pierce through the obdurate deck in his mental
appeal for succour. But the action of the heroic Helen suggested other
thoughts to the mind of the hardy mate:--

"Major," he said, "Miss Helen shames us men. There are weapons
still," pointing to the knife appended to Helen's side; "and they may
stand us in good stead at a pinch. Let us do our best to defend the
cabin from an attack from without, and trust to chance for the rest.
How the vessel pitches, poor thing! Those fellows don't know how to
handle her--and the wind blows stronger and stronger every minute.
That top--gallant mast will be sprung as sure as fate, if they don't
look alive! But what does it matter what becomes of the masts, or the
sails, or the gear, or any thing? we shan't live long to see the ruin
that's coming on this prime little brig that I've brought over from
the other side of the globe, safe and sound! Well, it will be all the
same a hundred years hence! They are knocking at the window again, as
if they were determined to have an answer this time."

A voice was at this moment heard:--

"Below there!"

"Ay, ay," said the mate, answering with professional promptitude.
"What the devil do you want with us?" he added, raising his voice;
"can't you let us be quiet?"

"The captain wants to speak with the major."

"And who the devil's the captain?"

"Mark Brandon."

"And who is Mark Brandon? One of the rascally convicts, I suppose,
escaped from gaol?"

"He will soon let you know who he is if you give us any of your
sauce. Look out of your stern windows at the sea beneath you; plenty
of ground sharks at the bottom;--do you understand that?"

"Major," said another voice from the top of the companion-ladder,
which they instantly recognised as Mark Brandon's, "the ship is in
danger, and you and your daughters will be lost if something is not
done for the management of the vessel."

"Ah, ha!" cried the mate, "it is come to that, is it?"

"If we let you free will you pledge your word of honour not to make
any attempt against us? You are a soldier and a gentleman; and I know
if you pledge your honour you will keep your word."

"Do it," whispered the mate, "if you do make a promise with such
rascals, you need not keep it."

"And my daughters," asked the major, "what do you say of them?"

"If you can trust to my word," replied Mark Brandon, "they shall
remain in this cabin, and be respected. Our only object is to leave
the colony, and regain our liberty: that done, we have no desire to do
violence to any one. But you must decide quickly."

"Don't let him come in, papa," said Louisa.

"Trust him," said Helen; "we are in his power; and if there is a
spark of generosity in the man it can be kindled into goodness only by
confidence: trust him."

The major hesitated; the danger was imminent: on the one side was
certain death in case of unavailing resistance; on the other, the
possibility of good treatment if the leader of the bushrangers were
not thwarted in his object. Besides, there was hope in
procrastination:--"Perhaps after all," he said to the mate, "the only
object of these men is to effect their escape; and it is quite clear
that they cannot navigate the vessel by themselves. We must bend to
circumstances. Pacifying measures are always the best for the weaker
party. Will you promise to do no violence to the mate?" he asked of
the bushranger.

"I promise not to take his life," replied Mark Brandon through the
door.

"Shall we trust him," said the major to his officer, "or shall we
sell our lives dearly?"

"I don't see how we are to help ourselves," replied the mate; "and it
will be something to save the vessel, for with the wind that is raging
outside, these fellows will never be able to keep her off the land."

"What is the alternative if we refuse?" asked the major, still
hesitating.

"Death!" replied the bushranger: "it is our lives or yours; we do not
want to take yours, nor to harm you unnecessarily; but if it must be
one or the other, you cannot expect us to sacrifice our own. My object
is to save the vessel."

"He's right in that, at any rate," said the mate; "that's the first
thing to be looked to; for if the vessel goes down we all go down with
her--that's certain. Take him at his word, major; we can do no better:
'and needs must,' as the saying is, 'when the Devil drives.'"

"I promise," said the major.

"I cannot pay you a higher compliment than to trust to your honour,
major," said Mark Brandon, undoing the barricading of the door, at the
entrance of which he appeared with two of his men with their muskets
cocked and levelled at the parties within. Louisa screamed, and Helen
put her hand on her weapon. "Now, sir, if you please, you may come
out."

His daughters clung to him instinctively, but Helen presently
loosened her grasp; Louisa, however, would not relax her hold, but
begged and prayed him, with the wildest grief, to remain to protect
them. The mate, anxious to get on deck to take a survey of matters on
board, passed up the ladder, and was instantly seized by four of the
conspirators, who in a moment bound him hand and foot, and placed him
by the wheel.

"If your father prefers remaining below," said Mark Brandon,
courteously, to Helen, "he is quite at liberty to do so; at the same
time he may come on deck when he pleases: but as the waves are high,
and as we have shipped several seas already, I think it will be more
agreeable to you to close the hatchway;" and so saying he closed the
door, and turned his attention to the prostrate mate, who, with a
storm of oaths outrivalling in ferocity even the fierceness of the
increasing storm, was cursing the bushranger and his gang:--

"You precious infernal rascal!--this was your promise, was it? I
thought you said you would do me no harm?"

"And I have done you no harm," replied the bushranger. "I promised
not to take your life, and I will keep my promise. But I did not
promise not to bind you, to keep you from doing harm to yourself and
to others. And now, my friend, what do you say? will you help us to
save the vessel, or shall it be a short prayer and a long plunge to
see what the sharks will say to you?"

"Do what you like, you rascally, lying, lubberly sneak--do what you
like; I'll do nothing for you with my hands bound this way. You and
your villainous gang may go to the bottom, and your souls to--that is,
if your friend there will take you in; but two of a trade, they say,
never agree--so there must be some place made on purpose to hold such
a rascal as you! I only wish I had my hands free, and a marline spike
in one of them--you should not be grinning at me in that cool way."

"Well, my friend," replied Mark, "there's no time to lose; you must
make up your mind at once. Roger and Dick," he said to two of his men,
"put your muskets to his head." The men obeyed promptly.

"What do you say now?"

"I won't;--while my hands are bound I'll do nothing."

"Cock your muskets," said their leader to his men.

There are few things more disagreeable than the click of the lock of
a musket, when the muzzle of it is placed close to your head by a
hostile party; but the mate was firm.

"Are you ready?" said Mark.

"Yes," said the men, with their fingers on the triggers.

"What do you say now? in one moment you will have the contents of
those pieces through your brains."

"Fire away," said the mate.

"Stay," said Mark Brandon.

Knowing well the habitual horror which sailors have of drowning and
of sharks, and their superstitious dread of remaining unburied after
death, he thought he would try another method.

"The shortest way," he said, "will be to throw him overboard. Take
him up and heave him over the taffrail, and then there will be an end.
Now, my men--one, two, three.--Have you nothing to say to stop them,"
he said to the mate, who, with hands and legs tied and bound tightly
together, was utterly incapable of the slightest resistance--"have you
nothing to say to stop them?"

At this moment a tremendous sea struck the little bark, and the
main--top-mast, with a crash, came rattling down, encumbering the deck
with its ruins. The mate and his executioners were nearly washed
overboard; but high above the din and the roar of the elements the
mate's voice was now heard:--

"Unbind me," he cried out, "and I promise to save the ship. You will
all be lost, and this tight little brig, that I have brought so far,
will go down with you all."

"You will promise, then, not to make any attempt to regain the
vessel," said Mark Brandon, preserving his coolness in the midst of
the confusion around him.

"I will promise anything," said the mate, "only let me save the
vessel. There's another sea coming! Starboard the helm, or it will be
upon us."

A monstrous sea burst over them, doing fresh damage, and adding to
the confusion and danger. Mark Brandon, seeing that the case was
desperate, and trusting to the instinct of the seaman to abandon all
other thoughts than that of saving the vessel, at once cut the cords
which tied him, and the mate, starting to his legs, immediately rushed
to the wheel and assumed the command of the vessel.



Chapter X. The Storm.

THE storm raged; and the shattered ship, pitching and reeling under
the influence of the roaring wind and raging sea, was driven with
desperate speed towards a projecting promontory on the western side of
the channel. The voice of the sturdy mate was heard above the
shrieking of the tempest, but in vain; the terrified followers of the
bushranger, unused to wage war with the elements, were utterly useless
in the extremity. It was in vain that their leader exerted himself
with almost preternatural energy, and endeavoured to rouse the
exertions of his men: they were not sailors; and they had neither the
bravery to dare, nor the skill to execute, the feats of seamanship
which were necessary to give them a chance of escaping the perils of
the storm.

"We shall never save the ship with these fellows," said the mate to
the bushranger, the urgency of the danger drawing into momentary
fellowship two minds, though belonging to different characters, of
kindred courage; "if you don't let my own blue jackets free, the ship
is a lost ship."

"Can I trust them?" said the bushranger, balancing the two perils in
his mind, and at a loss to decide to which to give the preference.

"Trust them! You may trust them to save the ship--at least to do
their best for it;--every sailor will do that: as to the rest, that is
another matter, and you must look out for yourself; that's fair and
above-board, at any rate, Mr.----Pilot!"

Mark Brandon was not a man to give way under difficulty: with a firm
mind he rapidly compared the two dangers, and, with the decision of a
bold one, he determined on giving liberty to the crew. Without
hesitation, he directed his men to unbatten the fore hatchway, and to
release from the hold the sailors who were confined there. This was a
matter by no means of easy execution; but at the expense of shipping
much water it was effected, and the liberated sailors gladly jumped on
deck. The bushranger directed his men to retain their arms, and
endeavour to keep them from the wet to guard against a surprise; but
the seamen, cheered by the voice of their officer, and in a moment
conscious of the extreme danger of the vessel, thought only of their
duties, and of saving themselves from shipwreck, leaving the
bushrangers to keep guard as they could or as they pleased, and paying
no other attention to them than to tell them to get out of their way.

It is not to be supposed that the noise of the raging wind, and the
confusion caused by the fallen mast, had passed unnoticed by the
parties in the cabin. The major wished to go on deck; but Louisa clung
to him with so tenacious a grasp, and the uncertainty of the nature of
his reception by the bushrangers was so great, that the father yielded
to the entreaties of his youngest daughter, and remained below. But
when he heard and recognised the familiar voices of his own sailors
battling with the thunder of the storm, he ventured to raise his head
above the companion ladder.

A washing of the waves drove him quickly back, at the same time that
it deluged the cabin. By taking advantage of a lull, he again essayed
to emerge from his place of security, and to his amazement beheld his
vessel apparently in the possession of his own people, and his officer
at the wheel, issuing his commands as usual, for the management of the
ship. He quickly joined him, though it was with difficulty he was
enabled to make good his footing.

"What chance is there," he asked, "of saving the vessel?"

"Very little; you see we are a mere wreck; there's scarcely a rag of
sail left: we are driving before the wind on that point of land that
you may see yonder through the haze. Our only chance is getting a soft
berth to bump on; but that chance is very small, for most of this
coast seems rocky. It won't be long, however, before we shall know our
fate. These rascally lubbers of bushrangers have done for the poor
brig. Serve 'em right, for pretending to know how to take care of a
vessel they knew nothing about. More fools they for binding with
fetters those who might have saved them: and now they see what they've
got by it."

"Had I not better prepare the girls for what is to happen?" said the
major, his mind borne down for the moment by the extent of his
disaster; his gallant vessel lost, his property presently to be
scattered to the waves, and his children's lives and his own in
imminent peril!

"I hardly know what is best to be done," replied the sturdy seaman,
almost subdued by the danger of the ship, and the thought of the
women: "but better let 'em stay below till the shock comes; they
couldn't hold on here."

"Could the boat be of any use?" asked the major, in a sort of
despair.

"It was washed overboard a quarter of an hour ago. But look at the
raging sea around us! Do you think a boat could live in such a sea as
that? If our own vessel--poor thing!--wasn't as good a sea-boat as
ever swam, it never would live in such a whirlpool as it's in now! I
wonder what has become of the boat that we saw coming, before the wind
caught us:--gone to the bottom, I fear, long ago!"

"And the people in that boat, perhaps, were our deliverers," said
the major. "Good God! that land seems fearfully close! Is there no way
to save ourselves?"

"Look out for a soft place," replied the mate, with a grim smile, for
he knew full well that the death-struggle of the gallant little ship
was at hand. "The sea refuses to keep us, so we must needs trust to
the land; though I must say it doesn't look very smiling at us."

As he spoke, the impetuous winds seemed to gather up their strength
for a final effort to hurl the devoted ship on the expectant rocks;
but at this moment the watchful mate, as cool in the moment of danger
as if the vessel was within view of the windmill at Gravesend, caught
sight of a break in the cliff, forming a little creek or armlet of the
sea: with a vigorous hand he directed the ship's course to the
opening, and in another minute, by an instantaneous and seemingly
miraculous change, the shattered brig, with a sudden turn, found
itself floating on the smooth surface of a little bay sheltered from
the wind and the waves. The vessel glided slowly towards a grassy
bank, and, gently touching it, remained stationary.

For a brief space every man on board held his breath with joy and
surprise at an escape from the horrors of shipwreck which struck them
as something supernatural! But presently the consciousness of the
unsafe position of either party called into fresh activity the
energies of both to guard against the aggression of each other; and,
before the major had time to congratulate his daughters on the
extraordinary preservation of the brig, the bushranger summoned his
men to his side, and assumed an offensive attitude, while the seamen,
hastily clutching at any materials within their reach which might
serve for weapons, gathered together in a body, and stood in defiance
of the threatening muskets of their opponents, and, with the stern
determination of revenge depicted on their worn and hardy
countenances, turned their eyes to their officer for directions in the
new emergency.

At this moment a column of thick smoke, as if from damp wood newly
fired, was observed to rise from the other side of a low hill bare of
trees. Mark Brandon seemed struck with a sudden thought at this
indication of other parties being near at hand. In his own mind he
feared that the fire had been kindled by the people in the boat, who,
he felt sure, were in pursuit of himself and his companions. Aware
that if his conjecture was right the reports of fire-arms would
quickly bring his enemies upon him, he stood before his men, and
repressing their preparation to fire by a gesture of his arm, he
directed his voice to the major, who was standing on one side,
restrained by his promise from taking part in the threatened conflict,
and filled with hope that the result would be favourable, even against
the superior weapons of the bushrangers, to the injured party.

"Major," said Mark Brandon, in the clear, cool, and articulate voice
for which he was so remarkable, "I see that you can keep your promise
like a soldier and a man of honour; and you shall see that I will keep
mine. Do you see that smoke yonder? That smoke proceeds from the body
of natives on the coast--the most numerous and the most savage of all
the mobs on the island! If we weaken our force by fighting with each
other we shall become an easy prey to them."

"Gammon!" said the mate.

"I do not wish to be devoured by those wretches," replied the
bushranger, without being in the slightest degree moved by the
contemptuous expression of the mate: "nor do I suppose the major there
would like to see his daughters torn limb from limb, and chucked on
that fire that the black devils have kindled yonder, and eaten before
his face."

"Gammon!" repeated the mate.

"That would be a fate," continued Mark, "too dreadful to contemplate.
And therefore, I say, let us forget for a while our own quarrel, and
join together to resist the attack of the natives."

"But we are not sure that they are natives," replied the major.

"Suppose it is the party that we saw in the boat coming after us,"
said the mate--"the party that you persuaded us were bushrangers or
pirates, or whatever you may like to call them; then, you know, there
would be no danger from them. I propose that two of us--that is, one
from each side, should go and find out; and in the mean time we will
agree to a truce till our messengers come back."

"Agreed!" said Mark. "I will go for one on my side, and you for one
on the other."

"I can't help thinking," said the mate to the major, in a whisper,
"that he is hatching some mischief or other; but he will find me wide
awake."

While the mate communicated this suspicion to his commander, Mark
Brandon gave some directions to his followers; and then the bushranger
and the officer set out together, each keeping a wary watch on the
other to prevent surprise or treachery.



Chapter XI. The Bushranger's Generous Confidence in the Mate.

MARK BRANDON had a very disagreeable suspicion that the smoke which
had been observed on the other side of the hill, proceeded from the
party in pursuit, who had taken advantage of one of the little creeks
or inlets with which that part of the coast abounded, to shelter
themselves from the storm.

The fire was not likely to have been kindled by natives; for, so far
as their haunts were known, they were not in the habit of making that
part of the island the place of their temporary habitation, as from
its exposure to the cold and boisterous winds of the south, and from
the greater part of its surface being scrub and rock, kangaroos were
scarce, and opossums by no means plentiful; neither was the gum which
forms so large a part of the food of the natives, to be found there in
sufficient quantities to make it an eligible place of encampment, as
the mimosa, from which it is obtained, does not thrive in bleak and
exposed situations.

The chance in his favour of its being the natives who had lighted
that fire, Mark Brandon felt was so small, that nothing but his own
eager desire that it might be so, could prompt him to cherish the
hope. On the other hand, if it was the party in pursuit who had
landed, then indeed his position was most critical and dangerous.
There was the vessel lying in a basin from which it was impossible to
extricate it against a contrary wind; the present storm, which still
raged, might last, perhaps, for some days; and the sailors who
composed the crew were at liberty, and prepared to resist any new
aggression to the death.

It was true that his own men were in possession of all the fire-
arms, which gave them a decided superiority; but still the struggle
would be a doubtful one; and the reports of the muskets during the
contest, would be sure to give information to those in pursuit of him
and his followers, should it turn out as he feared, that the smoke
which had been observed, proceeded from a fire made by the party in
the boat; and it was not to be supposed that they would neglect to
keep a good look-out in the direction where the vessel might be
expected to be visible.

The bushranger revolved all these thoughts in his mind, and in vain
sought for a way out of his difficulty: for once, his ingenuity was at
fault; he could devise no plan of escape; he found himself in a "dead
fix." But still, while there was life there was hope; and he thought
that if he could get rid of the sturdy mate who strode by his side,
and who, he observed, kept a close watch on him, he might have a
better chance of succeeding in any ulterior operations.

The bushranger carried a double-barrel fowling-piece, strong in the
stock, and the mate had in his hand a drawn ship's-cutlas. Mark
measured the distance with his eye which separated the buttend of his
piece from the back of the mate's head; he calculated that he might
swing the fowling-piece round by a quick and vigorous movement, and,
without noise, rid himself of his inconvenient companion by a single
blow. With his accustomed caution, his hands mechanically following
out the thought which had suggested itself, he thought it right to
remove the risk of the piece discharging itself from the shock. He
stopped, therefore, for a moment on the precipitous hill which they
were descending, and opening the pans of the locks, shook out the
primings and let down the hammers.

"What do you do that for?" asked the mate, surprised at the
proceeding; "is that the way to be ready for the natives? Why, they
may be on us before you have time to prime again."

"This is rather an awkward place to scramble down," replied Mark,
with an air of polite concern, and pointing to the gulf below them;
"you see, if I was to chance to have a tumble, my piece might go off
and lodge its lead where it was not intended to go--in my body, or,
perhaps, in yours, friend."

"Humph!" said the mate, ejaculating a sea-grunt, which at the same
time served as a vent to his own feelings, and conveyed to his
companion the intimation that he was not to be gammoned by Mark's
blarney about his excessive care for the mate's valuable person;--"he
means something now, by that move," he said to himself; "but whatever
it is he's up to he'll find me wide awake."

Shall I shoot him, thought Brandon:--no; the report of the piece
would be heard by both parties--by the vessel's people, and by the
soldiers; it must be done some other way; but he keeps out of my
reach, as if he suspected the trick:--I must try another game.

By this time they had descended into a deep and narrow gulley:
looking up, they saw before them a sharp and abrupt hill to climb,
interspersed here and there with low shrubs and irregular masses of
pointed rocks and stones. The bushranger guessed at once the sort of
country they had lighted on, which was a succession of abrupt stony
hills like the huge waves of a sea suddenly petrified into solidity:
an exceedingly difficult country to make progress in, either on
horseback or on foot, for while the actual distance gained in a
straight line, as the bird flies, is very small, the length of ground
gone over is very great, and very fatiguing from the continual up and
down movement, and from the annoying obstructions of the cutting
fragments of sharp rock and loose stones met with at every step.

As they mounted the hill, therefore, it is not to be wondered at that
the worthy seaman found the process of making way on shore, with his
own legs, a much more laborious operation than making way on the water
with sails and oars; and although he took advantage of his nautical
experience, and made short tacks to the right and to the left of the
hill, as he would have done against a contrary wind at sea, the work
soon became too hard for him.

"I say, mate," he said to the bushranger, "this is going dead against
a wind with a vengeance! now it's rattling down stream and then it's
up against tide, and whichever way it is it doesn't seem the better
for my legs!--I tell you what it is, I must come to an anchor, and
that's the long and the short of it:" and saying this, he plumped
himself down on the softest stone he could find convenient, and
proceeded to swab himself with much diligence.

"Luck's with me, after all," thought Mark, as he received this
gladsome communication from the sailor, and saw him in an attitude of
utter exhaustion from his exertions in the unusual exercise of walking
on land; "luck's with me after all! and now is the time to disarm my
very clever and very cautious friend of all suspicion by a false
confidence, and then he is mine to do what I please with--at least so
far as one point.

"Friend," he said to the mate, "I see I was wrong to propose that you
should go with me; I ought to have remembered that you were more used
to make your way up the shrouds of a ship than the sides of such hills
as these;--but I am used to them. However, we will not lose our
object; I must see how many natives there are yonder; come now; we
have had a bout I allow; but we are comrades in this venture: if I
could trust to your honour not to take advantage of my confidence, I
would try to have a look at the black rascals alone--but you must be
ready to stand by me."

"I'll stand by you, if that's all," said the mate; "but what do you
want me to do with your 'confidence' and your 'blarney?'"

"There," said the bushranger, placing his fowling-piece in the hands
of the astonished mate; "there's no blarney in that; now, if you could
be dishonourable, and treacherous, and a rascal--which I know you
cannot--you have me at your mercy."

"What the devil do you mean by this?" said the honest seaman,
completely overpowered by an act which placed the bushranger,
seemingly, completely in his power.

"What I mean is this; we are now all bound up together; unless we
stand by one another we shall never be able to resist the attack of
two or three hundred natives, for they have learned the way of
shooting with lighted arrows, and they never show any mercy to white
people:--and the food they are fondest of above everything is human
flesh."

"The black villains!"

"And I don't suppose you have any particular desire to form one of
the principal dishes at their supper to-night?"

"That would be no joke!"

"Now I will tell you what to do; for I shall rely on your courage and
coolness, which I am sure I can do as surely as on your honour--for my
own life as well as your own and the lives of the major and his
daughters depend on our activity."

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"You must remain here without moving, and especially without making
the least noise till I return."

"And how long shall you be away?"

"We shall see: I will get as near to the natives as I can on my hands
and knees, and try to find out what they are doing. If they are going
away, we have only to lie close and wait for their departure. But if
they are waiting for the wreck of the vessel, I must find out their
numbers, and then we must prepare for the worst."

"Well--let them come; I don't much mind them; only let me be on board
the brig, and then we will astonish them, perhaps, with something they
don't expect."

"But if they discover me, I shall have to make a run of it; and in
that case I must depend on finding you here, and then we must fight
our way back to the ship as well as we can."

"Well, I'm your man as far as the fighting goes; but as to making a
run of it, that's out of my line."

"Then, I trust I may depend on you," added the bushranger; "that you
will neither move nor make the least noise to betray yourself till I
return."

"Never fear," replied the mate; "I never betrayed any man yet, and
never will; you have placed confidence in me, by giving me your gun:
let you be bushranger or what not, you are safe with me as long as the
bargain lasts--as long as the bargain lasts, mind, no longer."

"Good," replied the bushranger; "and now I go on my errand;" and
mounting the hill with a vigorous step he passed over the top and
presently disappeared from view.

"And now," thought Mark Brandon, as he sat down on the brow of the
hill behind a low shrub, and examined the charge and priming of the
pistols which he carried,--"what's to be done next? I have secured the
mate: if he had insisted on going on instead of being so well inclined
to sit still, it would have been impossible to prevent him from
discovering that instead of the smoke proceeding from a party of
natives eager to devour us, it has been lighted, as I strongly
suspect, by the very party sent to assist the vessel, and to capture
me and my companions! But, luckily, he is knocked up; I thought his
sea legs would never carry him far over these hills.--Now my game is
clear before me; I must keep the major and his people close, and
especially this troublesome fellow of a mate, by making them believe
that the natives are coming down on them every minute;--that will keep
them quiet.--Shall I get rid of the whole lot? I might do it perhaps;
but there would be too much murder in it; and besides, I fear I could
never get the vessel out of that basin and through the narrow opening,
which is not much wider than to allow it to pass through, without the
assistance of the mate and his sailors; my fellows could never do it.
And that vessel is my only chance of escape from wretchedness and
bondage!--To be sure I might take to the bush, for we have plenty of
arms, and we might contrive to make a plant of provisions and
necessaries. But what is the use of wandering about in the bush? Of
all lives that is the most wretched! To be exposed to betrayal from
one another every day and every hour, waking or sleeping!--No--that
existence is not worth having.--Or to be alone--exposed to all the
horrors of the terrible solitude of the bush, with every man's hand
against you, without friend or companion.--No--that is a life of
melancholy madness! The brig--the brig's the thing! At all hazards,
and cost what lives it may, she must be secured! But first I must
assure myself to a certainty from what source that suspicious smoke
proceeds."

With such thoughts half muttered, and taking advantage of all the
inequalities of the ground which would enable him to see without being
seen, the bushranger proceeded rapidly, but warily, on his stealthy
way.




Chapter XII. Mr. Silliman Dances "The Polka" with a Kangaroo.

SNAKELIKE and with tortuous windings, keeping a sharp look-out in
his hazardous course, and stopping from time to time to catch any
sound that might betray his proximity to his enemies, the bushranger
edged his way to the top of a sheltered height, from which he could
command a view of the valley below.

At a glance, he found his suspicions confirmed; he distinguished the
red coats of the soldiers, and the peculiar dress and air of the
constables. He counted nine; and in one of them he had no difficulty
in recognising the hated person of one of the most active and
intelligent officers of the colony, well known for his activity and
courage, and one usually selected by the government authorities for
the pursuit of runaway convicts in the bush. Mark knew him well, for
on more than one occasion he had come into personal collision with
him: and he ground his teeth, and clutched the shrub by which he was
holding, as he looked down at his old enemy, who, like a pertinacious
bloodhound, was on his track.

The party sat listlessly about the fire, and seemed, as he thought,
to be waiting for information to be brought by some scout, for they
frequently looked in the direction of the south; but the storm which
still raged violently, although it had ceased to rain, was a
sufficient reason why they should remain under shelter for a time; and
the bushranger judged that as they would be too prudent to divide
their strength, they would remain where they were till the lulling of
the waters should allow them to put to sea in their boat. He descended
from his post of observation and set out on his return to the spot
where he had left the mate.

He saw at once that the game to be played was to delay any outbreak
on board till the pursuing party, missing the vessel, and supposing it
to have escaped to sea, should return home and report their failure;
but this was a difficult task to accomplish. The fears of the major
for the safety of his daughters, and the determination of the mate and
of the incensed sailors to resist further violence, were fairly
aroused; and he felt that anything to be done could be effected only
by the most consummate address and stratagem.

The first thing, however, was to make the major and his crew believe
that the natives were likely to be on them in force, and so to induce
them, for the sake of the common safety, to act together, and to
postpone their hostile intentions of retaliation till a safe
opportunity. In this scheme accident favoured the bushranger in a way
that he least expected.

The romantic Mr. Silliman found his spirit considerably damped by the
supplemental wetting which he got in the boat before it was sheltered
from the broken seas, at the entrance of the channel, but it was with
a tolerably heroic air that he stepped on shore, and placed his foot
on the land of his adoption. The novelty of his sensations excited him
to deliver his sentiments to the company on the occasion, and he was
about to hail the land of Van Diemen in a short and neat speech, and
had lifted up his leg, in his enthusiasm, to assist his arm in an
appropriate flourish, when he was hailed by the constable:--

"Hold hard, sir!--don't put your foot down yet: keep still; and keep
your leg up; hold it up a little longer.--There! it's going quietly
away now."

"What is it?" exclaimed the alarmed Jeremiah, with his arms
outstretched, and with one foot in the air, in an attitude which,
however becoming it might be in assisting a sudden burst of oratory,
was both embarrassing and ludicrous when continued beyond its
appropriate purpose;--"what is it? what's the matter?"

"Only a black snake," said the constable, quietly; "I thought it
would have been at you, for you are standing right in the way of its
path, and a bite from a black snake is an ugly affair, I can tell
you."

"A man of ours was bit by one of those ugly reptiles," said the
corporal, "up at Sidney, in the bush there; and in a few hours his
body was as black as your hat, and so gone that you could scarce
distinguish his features. They're nasty creatures those black snakes!
the diamond ones they say are as bad, but at any rate they are not so
bad-looking. Take care, sir, where you sit," he added to Mr. Silliman,
who was about to seat himself on a low piece of stone convenient for
the purpose; "those stones are sometimes full of scorpions."

"Scorpions!" cried out Jerry, who had an unspeakable horror of that
mysterious reptile which he had never seen except in a bottle of
spirits, and of whose powers and venomous disposition he had the
greatest dread: "are there scorpions in this country?"

"Lots! You can hardly sit down in the bush without getting into the
midst of them. Just pull up that stone and you'll soon see if you have
lighted on a family."

With the assistance of a stake which was near him, Jerry presently
upheaved the block of stone on which he had unwaringly seated himself,
and, to his infinite dismay, beheld some scores of those lively
indigenes of the country, who, considerably isturbed by the
unceremonious uplifting of their habitation, scudded to and fro with
their abominable tails curled over their backs, and eyeing their
enemy, as Jerry thought, most viciously.

"Upon my word, this is a nice party to come among, and a pleasant
reception do I have in this new country! I think I had better move
farther off."

"They are nasty disagreeable things those scorpions," said the
constable, "in the bush especially; and it's wonderful what quantities
there are of them in this country; but they are seldom large, at least
those that I have seen; I never saw one bigger than a good-sized
bluebottle, and I never heard of their doing any body any harm, except
stinging them a little. They're not near so bad as the tarantula
spiders; those creatures really are ugly beasts, and venomous too."

"How big are they?" asked Jerry, by no means gratified at this
enumeration of the inhabitants of the Paradise which he had promised
to himself: "anything like the spiders at home?"

"Lord love you! Spiders at home! why, the spiders at home are
nothing to the spiders here; the tarantula is something like a spider!
There," said the constable, spreading out the fingers of his brawny
hand on a bit of ground bare of grass--"There, suppose a greenish body
as big as a chestnut, with hairy legs reaching out as far as my
fingers--that's a tarantula spider!"

"How very disgusting! And pray what do the creatures live on?"

"Oh! all sorts of insects;--they do say that they will sometimes
catch small birds: but I can't say I ever saw them do it. You
generally find them living two together like man and wife, under a
stone, where they make themselves a chamber; and they grow monstrous
big sometimes. I have often seen them on the blue gum trees, so I
suppose they find food on them to their liking. It's a remarkable
fact," continued the constable, who was fond of showing his knowledge
of colonial customs and productions, "that the tarantula spider will
always drop on your face if it has the opportunity; I have often
thought why it was, but I never could make out the reason; may be the
white man's face resembles some surface where they catch their food;
some think that it's the motion of the eyelashes that attracts them;
but whatever it may be, they do it, that's all I know. I declare--if
there isn't one of them just above your head, on that dead branch,
just agoing to make a drop on you!"

As he spoke one of the spiders so described and vituperized, as if
in retaliation of the abuse which had been so copiously lavished on
its species, and invited perhaps by the temptation of the broad round
cheeks of Mr. Silliman, who was lying on his back in a position of
luxurious repose, dropped slap on his face, and embracing it with its
long hairy legs presented an admirable specimen for the cabinet of a
naturalist. But the thoughts of the terrified Jeremiah were by no
means inclined to take that scientific direction. On the contrary, he
roared out most lustily, as he hastily brushed the creature from his
face, and regained hi