A FALSE SCENT.

Two days, three days glided by, and the convict was not found. Then a week pa.s.sed, and another, and he was still at large; but a letter was brought up from the post, a couple of the mounted police being the bearers. This letter, from the doctor, told that Sir John O'Hara was dangerously ill, and that his life was despaired of; it was impossible to leave him till a change took place; and the letter ended affectionately, with hopes that Nic was managing the station well, and that all was going on peacefully.

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

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

"Want me, Sam?"

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

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

"He's been at 'em, sir."

"Who has been at what?"

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

"About Leather?" cried Nic.

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

Nic's face contracted from his mental pain.

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

"No, certainly not."

"But you'd like to hear?"

"Yes, of course."

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

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

"Bunya nuts, sir: grows on them trees something like firs. They ain't half bad, I can tell you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What a stupid I was not to think of this before!" he said to himself; full of confidence. But that night he rode back low-spirited and dull.

The blacks had shown him holes in trees, out of which they chopped opossums; the lairs of kangaroos; the pool where a couple of egg-laying, duck-billed platypi dwelled; and trees bearing a kind of plum, and others with nuts: but no signs of Leather.

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

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

Oh yes, they understood.

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

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

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

said old Sam.

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

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

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

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

"What about, sir--them calves?"

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

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

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

"But Brooky's there, sir."

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