Alger Horatio Jr.
In A New World: or, Among The Gold Fields Of Australia

CHAPTER XI. TAKEN CAPTIVE

Harry and Jack exchanged a glance of dismay. To be stripped of all they had was a serious misfortune but in addition to be made prisoners by the bushrangers was something of which they had not dreamed. Obed, too, was taken aback. He had become attached to his young companions, and he was very sorry to part with them. He could not forbear a remonstrance.

"Look here, squire," he said familiarly to the captain, "what do you want to keep the boys for? They won't do you any good, and it'll cost considerable to keep 'em. They're pretty hearty."

Harry and Jack could not help laughing at this practical argument.

The captain of the bushrangers frowned.

"I am the best judge of that," he said. "You are lucky to be let off yourself. Don't meddle with matters that don't concern you."

"Take me, if you want to," said Obed independently. "I shall be lonesome without the boys."

"You had better go while there is a chance," said the captain menacingly. "If you give me any more trouble, I will have my men tie you to a tree, and leave you here."

Harry was afraid the threat would be carried out, and begged Obed to make no further intercession.

"I have no doubt we shall meet again," he said. "These gentlemen will no doubt release us soon."

He was by no means confident of this, but he thought it politic to take things cheerfully.

"The boy has sense," said the captain approvingly.

"Well, good-by, boys," said Obed, wringing the hands of his two young friends. "I shall feel awfully lonely, that's a fact, but as you say, we may meet again."

"Good-by, Obed," said each boy, trying not to look as sorrowful as he felt.

Obed Stackpole turned, and walked slowly away. His prospects were by no means bright, for he was left without money or provisions in the Australian wilderness, but at that moment he thought only of losing the companionship of the two boys, and was troubled by the thought that they might come to harm among the bushrangers.

"If I only knew where they were goin' to take 'em," he said to himself,

"I'd foller and see if I couldn't help 'em to escape."

To follow at once, however, he felt would be in the highest degree imprudent, and he continued to move away slowly, but without any definite idea of where he intended to go.

When Obed had disappeared, Fletcher came up to the boys, and said with a smile:

"So you miss that Yankee, do you?"

"Yes, I do," answered Harry.

"You like him?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't admire your taste. He's rough and uncouth, and is more fitted for a farm laborer than for society."

"That may be," said Harry, "but he is honest and reliable."

He might perhaps unconsciously have emphasized the word honest. At any rate, Fletcher so understood him, and took offence at the implication.

"Look here, young whipper-snapper," he said roughly, "you'd better take care how you talk. You are in my power, and something will happen to you if you are insolent."

"What have I said to offend you?" asked Harry, looking the bushranger calmly in the face. "I am not speaking of you, but of Mr. Stackpole."

"You meant to insinuate that there was a difference between us."

"That ought not to offend you, as you have so poor an opinion of him."

Harry evidently had the best of it, and Fletcher felt cornered, for he did not care to court the charge of dishonesty.

"Perhaps you didn't mean anything," he growled. "If so, all is well, but you had best be careful."

"Follow me, men," said the leader. He turned his horse's head and rode into the wood.

The eucalyptus trees are very tall, some attaining a height of hundreds of feet. They begin to branch high up, and there being little if any underbrush in the neighborhood, there was nothing to prevent the passage of mounted horsemen. The ground was dry also, and the absence of bogs and marshy ground was felt to be a great relief.

The boys were on foot, and so were two or three of the bushrangers' party. As already intimated, they were of inferior rank and employed as attendants. In general the party was silent, but the boys overheard a little conversation between the captain and Dick Fletcher, who rode beside him.

"You haven't distinguished yourself this time, Fletcher," said the chief in a dissatisfied tone. "You led me think that this party had money enough to repay us for our trouble."

"It isn't my fault," said Fletcher in an apologetic tone. "The Yankee completely deceived me. He was always boasting of his money."

"He doesn't seem like that kind of a man," said the captain thoughtfully. "What could have been his object?"

"He must have meant to fool me. I am ashamed to say he did."

"Couldn't you have found out whether his boasts were correct?"

"That is just what I tried to do," answered Fletcher. "I crept to his side early one morning, and began to explore his pockets, but he woke up in an instant and cut up rough. He seized me by the throat, and I thought he would choke me. That made me think all the more that he carried a good deal of money about with him."

"The boys, too – did you think they were worth plundering?"

"Oh, no, I never was deceived about them," replied Fletcher promptly. "I concluded that, even if they had money, the Yankee was their guardian, and took care of it. They are all Americans, you know."

He spoke glibly, and the captain appeared to credit his statements. The boys listened with interest, and with a new appreciation of Fletcher's character. They could easily have disproved one of his statements, for they knew very well that Obed never boasted of his money, nor gave anyone a right to suppose that he carried much with him. On this point he was very reticent, and neither of them knew much of his circumstances. However, it would have done no good to contradict Fletcher, for his word with the captain would have outweighed theirs, and he would have found a way to punish them for their interference.

"In future," said the captain, "I advise you to make sure that the game is worth bagging. As it is, you have led us on a fool's errand."

"That may be," Fletcher admitted, "but it wasn't so last time. The

Scotch merchant bled freely, you must allow."

"Yes, you did better then."

As Harry listened he began to understand that Fletcher acted as a decoy, to ingratiate himself with parties leaving Melbourne for the mines, and then giving secret information to the bushrangers with whom he was connected, enabling them to attack and plunder his unsuspecting companions.

"That's a pretty mean sort of business," he said to Jack, when he had an opportunity to speak to him without being overheard. "I'd rather be a robber right out than lure people into danger."

"So would I," responded Jack. "That Fletcher's worse than a pirate."

Still they went on, so slowly that the boys, though compelled to walk, had little difficulty in keeping up. They were necessarily anxious, but their predominant feeling was of curiosity as to their destination, and as to the bushrangers' mode of life.

At length they came out of the woods into more open ground.

CHAPTER XII. THE HOME OF THE BUSHRANGERS

On a slight rise stood a collection of huts, covered with sheets of the bark of the gum-tree, held on by ties of bullock hide. For the most part they contained but one room each. One, however, was large and, the boys afterward learned, was occupied by the captain of the bushrangers. Another served as a stable for the horses of the party.

This Harry judged to be the home of the outlaws, for no sooner had they come in sight of it than they leaped from their horses and led them up to the stable, relieving them of their saddles. Then the bushrangers sat down on the ground, and lounged at their ease. The attendants forthwith made preparations for a meal, appropriating the stores which had just been taken from Obed and the boys. The captives were not sorry that there was a prospect of a meal, for by this time they were hungry. They followed the example of their companions, and threw themselves down on the ground. Next to them was a young bushranger, apparently about twenty-two years of age, who had a pleasant face, indicative of good humor.

"How do you like our home?" he asked, turning to Harry with a smile.

"It is a pleasant place," answered Harry.

"How would you like to live here?"

"I don't think I should like it," Harry replied honestly.

"And why not? Is it not better than to be pent up in a city? Here we breathe the pure air of the woods; we listen to the songs of the birds; we are not chained to the desk or confined from morning till night in a close office."

"That is true, but are there not some things you do not like about it?" asked Harry significantly.

"Such as what?"

"Is it not better to earn your living, even if you are chained to a desk, than to get it as you do?"

Harry felt that he was rather bold in asking this question, but he was reassured by the pleasant face of the young outlaw.

"Well," admitted the latter, "there are some objections to our life."

"It would not do for all to get their living as you do."

"That is true. Some must work, in order that others may relieve them of a portion of their property."

"Are you not afraid of being interfered with?"

"By the mounted police?"

"Yes."

"We are strong enough to overcome them," said the bushranger carelessly.

"What is the name of your captain?" asked Harry.

"Stockton. No doubt you heard of him in Melbourne."

Harry shook his head.

The outlaw seemed surprised. "I thought everybody in Australia had heard of Ben Stockton," he said. "He has a great name," he added with evident pride. "He is as strong as a lion, fears nothing, and his name is associated with some of the most daring robberies that have ever taken place in this country."

"And still he is free," said Harry suggestively.

"The authorities are afraid of him. They have offered a reward for his capture, but it doesn't trouble him. He only laughs at it."

They were far enough away from the rest of the party to carry on their conversation unheard – otherwise, neither Harry nor his informant would have ventured to speak with so much freedom. At this eulogium, however, Harry scanned, with some curiosity, the face and figure of the famous bushranger, who was sitting about three rods distant. He was a man of large frame, powerfully built, with hair and beard black as night, and keen, penetrating eyes that seemed to look through those upon whom they were fixed. He had about him an air of command and conscious authority, so that the merest stranger could not mistake his office. About his mouth there was something which indicated sternness and cruelty. He was a man to inspire fear, and Harry, after a steady examination, felt no surprise at the man's reputation.

"How long has he been captain?" asked Harry.

"Ever since I joined the band," answered the young man. "I don't know how much longer."

"How long have you been a member of the band?"

"Five years."

"You must have been a mere boy when you joined."

"I was seventeen. I am twenty-two now."

"I should like to ask you a question, but you may not like to answer it."

"Go on! If I don't care to answer, I will tell you so."

"What induced you to join the bushrangers?"

"I will tell you," said the young man, showing neither offence nor reluctance. "I was employed in Melbourne in a business establishment. One of my fellow-clerks stole some money, and, to screen himself, managed to implicate me by concealing a part of the stolen money in my coat pocket. I knew no way to prove my innocence, and my employer was not a man to show pity, so I escaped from Melbourne and took refuge in the bush. There I fell in with Captain Stockton, who offered me a place in his band. I accepted, and here I am."

"But for the act of your fellow clerk you would have been an honest business man today, then?"

"Very likely."

"What a pity!" said Harry regretfully, for he was much attracted by the open face and pleasant manners of the young man.

"So I thought at first, but I became used to it. After a while I grew to like the free life of the bush."

"I don't call it free. You can't go back to Melbourne for fear of arrest."

"Oh, yes, I have been there several times," said the young man carelessly.

"How did you manage it?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"I disguised myself. Sometimes the captain sends me on special business."

"Like Fletcher?" asked Harry quickly.

"No; I shouldn't like that work. It suits him, however."

"I never should have taken you for a bushranger. You look too honest."

The other laughed.

"I think I was meant to be an honest man," he said. "That is, I am better suited to it. But fate ordained otherwise."

"Fate?"

"Yes; I believe that everything that happens to us is fated, and could not have been otherwise."

"You think, then, that you were fated to be a bushranger?"

"I am sure of it."

"That, then, accounts for it not troubling you."

"You are right. We can't kick against fate, you know."

"I shouldn't like to believe as you do," said Harry earnestly.

"You'll come to believe it sooner or later," said the outlaw, with an air of conviction.

"Then what is the use of trying to lead a good and honorable life?"

"That's just what I say. There isn't any use."

Harry had never before met anyone holding such views of fate. He was interested, but repelled. He felt that he could not and would not accept any such idea, and he said so.

"You'll change your mind after you become one of us," said his companion.

"After what?" ejaculated Harry.

"After you become one of us."

"But that will never be. How can you think such a thing!"

"Because I know it is to be. Why do you think the captain brought you here? He had your money, and couldn't get any more out of you."

"Do you really mean what you say?" asked Harry, his heart filled with a sickening apprehension that this might be true.

"Of course I do. The captain likes young people. You two boys are smart and bright, and he is going to make you members of the band."

"He can't! I'll die first!" exclaimed Harry with suppressed energy.

"You will see. But hush! don't speak so loud. For my part I shall be very glad to have you among us. You will be companions for me. You are only about a year younger than I was when I joined."

At this moment their companion was called away, and Harry, bending toward Jack, whispered in his ear: "I am afraid he is right about the captain's intentions. We must try to escape as soon as there is any chance."

"I'm with you," Jack whispered back.

CHAPTER XIII. A TRIAL AND ITS TRAGIC FINALE

Harry was very much disturbed by the communication of his new acquaintance, whose name he ascertained to be Wyman. It was not very pleasant, of course, to be a prisoner, but this he could have borne, being confident, sooner or later, of escaping. But to be forced to join these lawless men, and render himself, like them, an outlaw and outcast from respectable society, seemed terrible. He determined that, come what would, he would preserve his integrity and his honest name. He might be ill-treated, but they could not force him to become a bushranger. He talked the matter over with Jack, and the young sailor agreed with him.

Presently the meal was ready, and the two boys were served with the rest. Notwithstanding their precarious position, each ate heartily It takes a good deal to spoil the appetite of a growing boy.

After eating, the captain, clearing his throat, addressed the band:

"My men," he said, "we have refreshed ourselves by eating, and now a less pleasant scene awaits us. I am your captain, and to me you have sworn implicit obedience. Is it not so?"

"Yes, yes!" answered the bushrangers.

"It is a necessity of our position. We have withdrawn from the world, and we lead a free, untrammelled life in the bush. We scorn the laws that the colonists have made, and prefer to govern ourselves. Is this so?"

There was a hoarse murmur of assent.

"As a consequence," the captain proceeded, "we are hunted like wild beasts. Our enemies have laid plots to ensnare us, but thus far they have not succeeded. While we stand together we are safe."

Again there were signs of assent and approval as Captain Stockton paused.

"But one thing is essential. There must be no traitor, no malcontents among us. A large reward has been offered for my apprehension – five thousand pounds! It shows how much they are afraid of us," and he raised his head with unconscious pride. "Against open enemies we can hold our own, but not against the secret foe who sits beside us as a friend, and eats and drinks with us. When such a one is found, what shall be his fate?"

He paused for a reply, and it came from the lips of all in one stern word – "Death!"

"I am answered," said the captain. "The sentence has been pronounced, not by my lips but by your own."

Here he turned to two attendants, who were stationed near at hand.

"Bring forth the traitor," he said.

The two men disappeared within one of the huts, and immediately reappeared, leading behind them a third, with his hands tied behind him. His face was covered by a black cloth, which effectually screened his features from the general observation. All eyes were turned on the unhappy man. Harry and Jack regarded the scene with painful interest. They guessed what was coming.

"Complete your task!" said the captain with a wave of his hand.

The two guards set the offender with his back to a tree, and producing a rope, quickly passed it round his waist and tied him securely, with his screened face toward the band.

"Wretch!" said the captain in a terrible voice, "you thought to betray us, and expose us to punishment and death, but the doom which you were ready to bring upon us has recoiled upon yourself. You would have sold your captain and comrades for gold. They have pronounced your doom, and it is Death! Have you anything to say?"

The victim did not speak, but slowly inclined his head in hopeless submission to his fate.

"You have nothing to say for yourself. Is there anyone to speak for you?"

One of the bushrangers sprang forward impetuously. "Yes, captain, I will speak for him."

Captain Stockton frowned fiercely, but uttered one word, "Speak!"

The daring outlaw, who had stepped forward a little from the line, commenced: "This man is my brother. We were nursed by the same mother, we played together by the same fireside, we grew into manhood together, and together we joined this band of brothers."

He paused a moment, and the captain said briefly, "Well?"

"Now," continued the brother, "you would condemn him to a shameful death, which he does not deserve."

"What!" exclaimed the captain, his face becoming pale with anger; "what do you dare to say? Do you question the justice of our sentence? Would you excuse a traitor?"

"He is no traitor!" said the brother boldly.

"Was he not caught attempting to escape? Answer me instantly."

"Yes, but he had no intention of betraying any of us."

"What then was his object?" demanded Captain Stockton sternly.

"He meant to leave you. He had become tired of the life of a bushranger. He wished to return to the paths of honesty, and live by labor at some respectable trade."

"And why was this? Why, after so many years, had he become tired of our noble independence?"

"In one of his missions, undertaken in the interest of the fraternity, he had made the acquaintance of a young girl, modest and attractive. He wished to marry her, but as a bushranger he knew this was impossible. Therefore, he resolved to leave our band, and enter upon a new life. He would never have uttered a word to imperil the safety of his captain or his comrades."

"And you expect us to believe this?" said the captain with a sneer.

"I do. I swear it is true."

"And what do you expect me to do, Robert Graham?"

"To consider his temptations, and to show mercy upon him."

"Perhaps also you expect me to release him, and bid him go his way to the maiden who is waiting for him."

"It would be a generous act."

"But I am not so generous," said the captain. "Your plea is ingenious, but I put no faith in it. It is utterly improbable. You and your brother have been with us for seven years. You have become accustomed to our ways. He was faithful and loyal till the love of gold made him a traitor. What he sought was blood money."

"No, a thousand times, no!" exclaimed the brother earnestly.

"I say it is so," said Captain Stockton harshly. "It is plain to every member of the band. Yet, because you have never transgressed, I have been willing to listen to you, remembering that he is your brother."

"Spare his life at least; even if you are convinced that he is guilty.

He has not lived his life half out. Be merciful!"

"I cannot," answered the captain in an inflexible tone. "If I yielded to such a weakness all discipline would be at an end. If treachery is to be pardoned, who knows which one among you might be the next to imitate the example of this man. No! justice is stern, and punishment must be inflicted. The guilty must be punished though the heavens fall. Men, stand aside!"

[Illustration: The Death of the Bushranger Captain.]

This was addressed to the two men who stood, one on each side of the condemned bushranger.

They obeyed the command of their chief and he, raising his revolver, pointed it at the breast of the unhappy offender.

There was a moment of intense excitement. Harry and Jack were spellbound. Their faces were pale, and wore an expression of horror. They were about to see a human life taken. They could hardly forbear uttering a groan.

The silence was broken by a sharp, explosive sound. The deadly weapon had done its work; but it was not the captive who had received the winged messenger of death. It was the captain himself who staggered and with one convulsive movement fell prone to the earth.