Cheer after cheer had greeted this success, and half-a-dozen shots were fired in a volley at the face of the rock, but only to bring down a shower of stones; and on turning once more to regain his place, to his horror, Murray made out that the convict, elated by his victory, and missing both of his enemies, had climbed a little higher, so as to better command the ledge, forgetful that he was exposing himself to his enemy's aim.

Just then Murray once more appeared in sight, when the startled wretch dropped to his former position, but not quite in so secure a fashion, for his fall swept down a portion of the foliage that had before concealed him; and as two reports rang out almost as one, Murray had the satisfaction of seeing a hand thrown up, and the convict's gun fall clattering down into the gully.

Murray loaded again as expeditiously as possible; but seeing that his antagonist was helpless, he refrained from firing another shot, reserving it for the next who should attempt to scale the gully-side, and it was not long before he had an opportunity; but his aim was bad, and he had the misery of seeing another daring fellow climb to the rock, and then coolly shelter himself behind his comrade's body.

Watching attentively his enemy's movements, Murray prepared to recharge his piece; but once more his heart sank, for he had sent his last bullet winging its way; and on turning to Wahika, he found that the charge in the savage's gun was the last that he, too, possessed.

There was nothing for it but to withdraw into such shelter as he could reach--little enough; for the fresh man, more energetic even than his disabled fellow, kept on firing furiously, but without effect; while terribly unnerved by this enforced inactivity, the horrors of thirst now attacked afresh the occupants of the ledge, the wounded savage's sufferings seeming to be intense, as he turned his dull eyes from one to the other, as if asking the help they could not give.

The sun rose higher and higher; and, save the occasional shout of directions to the man on the rock, the convicts preserved an almost unbroken silence. But, suddenly, Murray saw three or four begin to dart from stone to stone, as if in retreat, and descend the gully; but too unguarded an exposure of himself brought a bullet whizzing by his ear, and he felt, with justice, that those who had gone had probably departed on a foraging expedition, while they were to lie there and die.

"Would no help come? Had there not now been ample time?" he asked himself, as he gazed at poor Katie's parched white lips. Their thirst was terrible, while their sufferings were like those of Tantalus; for, in full view, they could see the cold water trickle from stone to stone, and drop plashing into the rocky basin beneath their feet.

What should he do? Should he leave her to fall alive into the hands of the convicts, or should he--

He covered his face with his hands and groaned, as the bright scene of the happy home--the rifled nest--came flashing through his memory.

"Don't heed me, Katie," he whispered, as he felt his hands drawn away from his face, to be kissed and pressed to a tender throbbing heart.

"Don't heed me. I'm weak and childish with my wounds, and it unmans me to see you in such peril."

"Hush, hush," whispered the poor girl; "do not grieve. It cannot be very hard to die--not very. See there, how poor Wahika, who has fought so n.o.bly, seems to bear his fate; for he is going, Ned," she continued; and she pointed to the glazing eyes and motionless form at their side.

"If that poor savage can die so peacefully, cannot we, who have received so much greater light, pa.s.s away even as gently as he?"

The young man sighed heavily, as he pressed her again and again to his breast, but he could not speak.

"Will they kill us quickly, Ned?" she went on. "I hope so now; for things seem strange, darling, and I want you to hold me tightly--O, so tightly; for it is as though I were being dragged away; and I can see dear father beckoning to me, and--Yes, yes; I'm coming!" Looking up suddenly in Murray's face, she kissed him tenderly. "Good-night, father dear!" she murmured; "it was a dream, a troubled dream; and my head, my head--"

The heat had now grown insufferable, and the silence down the gully that of death--so complete, that when, as Katie lay there with her head upon Murray's breast, she started and laughed a little happy-sounding laugh, it seemed to be repeated from the mountain side.

"There, there!" she muttered gently; "I can sleep now; but it was terrible--yes, it was terrible--such dreams are bad. Poor Ned! his face all crimsoned, and his hands blackened with powder. But he was fighting for me--for me whom he loves--and--Yet did they not kill him?--did they not leave him in the burning--Ned!" she added, starting, as it were, into sensibility again, and gazing at him with terror-stricken eyes, "what was it? What did it mean? Was it real?"

Then she trailed off again into a broken incoherent murmur, now lifting her parched lips to his, then hiding her face in her hands; but these fits of delirium were succeeded by moments of calm.

Hour after hour, Murray crouched there--alone now, he told himself, for poor Katie's mind seemed to have pa.s.sed away. She had borne up bravely, but her sufferings had been greater than she could bear; and Murray knew that if the prayed-for help came not soon, there would be nothing for him to do but to meet the bullets ready for his breast, for all would be over, and the tragedy of Golden Gap complete.

STORY THREE, CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

SEEKING AID.

Slowly up the sheep-track toiled the minister's pony with its sad burden.

Seeing how painful was any attempt at consolation to the stricken woman, Mr Meadows dropped behind, thoughtfully gazing around from time to time, and whenever from a turn of the road there was a view of the rifled hut, pausing to take a long and sorrowful look at the ruins of the once happy home. But not once did he draw the attention of Mrs Lee to the scene.

How he thought of the quiet Eden-like aspect of the place as he had descended that toilsome way; the picturesque house, with its sheep and cattle dotted about; but now, though the scene was the same, and a clump of trees often hid from view the ruined house, yet how changed all seemed to his weary gaze!

Catching the pony's bridle, when he had regained his place by its side, he began to try and hurry its pace, but without effect. Making, therefore, a virtue of necessity, they trudged slowly on until, with a sigh of relief, the ravine which led over the summit was reached, the view of Golden Gap shut out, and the next valley beginning to open before them.

What should he do? Go from station to station, telling the terrible news, and summoning the settlers to take arms for the purpose of crushing an enemy that might a.s.sault each farm in turn, or hurry on to the settlement at Kaitaka Bay, and there spread the alarm?

His reason told him that this latter would be the slower process, while if he trusted to the settlers in these far-off regions, the news would set them aflame, and they would muster readily. There would be no c.u.mbrous arrangements for the expedition, but each man would seize his piece and mount horse, ready to join the little levy, and help to drive the invader from the neighbourhood of his home--the home which each had won for himself from the wilderness, and which was now in danger from these marauders.

He halted for a while by the side of one of the many streams, pressing upon his companion food and rest beneath the shady foliage, and watched her in the hope that sleep would visit the weeping woman--a short halt being absolutely necessary, on account of the ruggedness of their path, the excessive heat in the ravines, and the distance they had to travel.

Seeing, however, that Mrs Lee's thoughts were wholly upon bringing rescue to her child, they were soon again upon their way, and before many hours were over, receiving the hearty welcome of a bluff settler, who with his wife and child stood at his door to receive the travellers.

"Glad to see you, Mrs Lee," he exclaimed. "And where's Martin? Parson Meadows, too! But what's wrong? Why, you've got a cut on the head there, and--what does it all mean?"

Mr Meadows led him aside, wondering, as he saw Mrs Lee throwing herself sobbing into his wife's arms. The business was soon explained, and the settler's hearty English face grew stern and overcast.

"Heaven preserve us!" he muttered. "Poor Martin Lee! and it might have been here first! But are you in earnest, parson? Convicts?--landed?

What should they come here for?"

"Spoil!--plunder!--desolation!" replied Mr Meadows.

The settler drew his guest into the house, forced him into a chair, and then dashed out of the room, shouting to a couple of his men. Ten minutes after, two stout well-mounted fellows galloped off in different directions.

"Mr Meadows," said the settler, returning to where he had left his visitor, "I couldn't go myself and leave them, or I'd have been one of those to gallop off; but the news will spread fast, and by morning we shall have a gathering here, I hope, that shall crush out these blood-thirsty locusts. Don't think me unneighbourly that I did not go myself."

"A man's first worldly duty is to his wife and children, friend Lawler,"

said Mr Meadows. "I blame you not, for we may perchance even yet have to fight for them before help comes."

"Heaven forbid!" exclaimed the settler; but he took down with nervousness fowling-piece and rifle, and began to wipe and oil them ready for service.

"I'd almost ask you to help in a time of need like this," he continued, "but for your cloth."

"Help, friend Lawler! Yes, I'll help; for I have already turned man of war in defence of the Moa's Nest, and am afraid that I did some mischief amongst these men you call locusts; but they deserved it all, I fear."

"Fear, parson!" exclaimed the other. "I would that you had had the scoundrels in a row, so that one bullet would have killed the lot! It would have been the best message of peace you ever sent through the district."

"But had I not better ride in some other direction to summon help? If you could lend me another horse, I would gladly go: Joey, my pony, is slow, and not suited to the work."

The settler mused for a few moments.

"You might ride to Black Rock!" he returned. "It will be a dark journey, and a long one; but the Allens would come to a man, and all stanch fellows, who can use a rifle."

"Put on the saddle, and give me a morsel of bread; for no time should be lost. You will be kind to our poor afflicted sister."

"Kind!" was the reply, in such a tone that the clergyman smiled gently, and pressed the rough hand extended to him.

Half-an-hour after, he was in the saddle and galloping in the direction of Black Rock.

He was no mean horseman, and mile after mile was left behind, till the darkness and the increasing difficulties of the road compelled him to go more slowly--at a rate, indeed, that but ill accorded with the impatience of his spirit, now that he was in some degree rested and refreshed. For, during the early part of his journey from the Moa's Nest, he had suffered from a strange feeling of oppression, due to his late sufferings; but this was fast wearing off. And now, troubled in mind about the fate of those he sought to save, he once more pushed on, till the broken ground again compelled him to draw rein.

Long residence, and occasional visits from station to station, had made him pretty familiar with the roads; and as the horse picked its way along the stony part they were pa.s.sing, he began to calculate how many men could be mustered; how long it would be before help could be afforded; and whether that help would be in time.