NOVEL

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 357, 12 March 1903, Page 2

NOVEL

CHAPTEB ll.—(Continued.) Then Sundown Bill made the injured lad as comfortable as was possible under the circumstances, and, after vainly looking around for the missing horse, gave the Is at drop of water to the a offerer, encouraged him to te«p a brave heart, promised a speedy return, and set off for Kangarilla, He hoped to complete the journey in four hours, sonimon aid, and return to the afflicted boy within two hours more. To the lad the interim of waiting seemed eternity. To the busbman the distance to be covered was usually as nothing, but on this oppressively close night, in an exhausted state of body and mind, suffering privations of hunger and thirst, and his missiou being extremely urgent withal, he felt an almost overpowering sense < f weakness such as he had never before experienced. Tet Sundown Bill bravely struggled on. When well advanced on his journey it occurred to him that it was near the opening of Christmas Day, and he reflected that, once a shepherd himself, on that same morning many centuries before, the good shepherds of tbe East walked into Bethlehem to find the child Jssus, the angelic host singing the glad refrain 'Glory to Geo", peace on earth, good-will to nun.' With a pardonable conceit he imagined he saw points of analogy between his own mission and that of his brother shepherds of Judea. Perchance he, too, influenced by a beneficent unseen power to engage in his mission of mercy and good-will, might be rewarded with an' approving smile from that same great Bedeemer who, humbly bom in a manger, and himself despised and rejected, would not lightly regard the good office of a poor sundowner. These and other reflections, leading Sundown Bill back to the teachings and doings of bis childhood's days, beguiled many steps of his tedious journey, and at what he guessed by the perpendicular bearing ot the Southern Cross to be the tense hour ot midnight, he espied the lights in the windows of Kangarilla home station. CHAPTEB KI. That undefinable feeling of unrest which to some temperaments is the precursor of approaching storm in tropical countries had evidently seised Mr John Maclean on this eve, Bemcrse, resulting from his summary treatment of the despised sundowner, in no way contributed to this disturbed feeling. In that respect the masterful squatter considered he had admirably performed his duty. But the disquieting effect cf coming atmospheric disturbance was to some degree intensified by upon pact instances of retaliation resulting from such condign treatment as be had that day meted out to Sundown Bill, Mutilated horses and eattle, poisoned dogß, and gross acts of vandalism and arson were not infrequently caused by malicious and retaliatory tramps. From whichever cause, or combination of causes, it was true that on this particular evening John Maclean w*s ill at ease He walked to and fro in his verandah and around his homestead, until pa«t the hour of midnight, relieving the monotony of his peregrinations by frequest libations of whiskey and soda, which increased his restlessness, and leit him in an excited and reckless mcod. Suddenly his faithful shexp-cog following at his heels, etoppen, and pri'.-kitg hi« et»rs set up a prolonged low gtowt, which his master regarded as indicative ot a oting in the vicinity. Hia thoughts tapidiy recurred to the meeting wi:h Sondown Bill, and wno otner tnan he, lurking in the unci aiinigbt, touid approach t-e prti«ue<> .-1 this unseasonable hour, and with wh«*t jurp, .e other than the sinister one of

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ABBANGEMENT.] The Bushman's Revenge,

By Salian Muib,

[ALL BIGHTS BESEBVED.

personal injury, incendiarism or theft. Grasping the dog by the collar Maclean quickly dragged him into an inner room, where he commanded him to lie still. He then extinguished the lights, seized his revolver, and issuing cautiously from the house, stood under an umbrageous eucalyptus tree, there to await the developments of events. Nor had he loßg to wait. He soon observed a moving figure, slowly as if surreptitiously approaching the homestead. Nearer and nearer came the form, and with its approach the more firmly did the thought take shape in Macleans mind that the objeet of the vißitor was an evil one. Should it be Sundown Bill, his malicious intent was assured; for had he not that very day threatened him with revenge. Peering vigilantly into tbe moonlight, John Maclean presently drew himself quickly back, the visitor having come within tbe area of identification. * Ifs Sundown Bill,? said the squatter I^.,f L ,^ e re P reßß ed but breathing fury, 111 hold no parley with him this time.' And as the unsuspecting bushman pain fully trudging along on his mission of mercy was distant a few feet from the concealing tree, John Maclean with a malicious grin on his countenance, raised his revolver and deliberately fired twice , point blank at the body of Sundown Bill. With in agonising cry the latter staggered against the fence and fell proetrate l°Jr e - * round > w tere he lay motionless, but faintly moaning. Then John Maclean laughed 'aloud at bis own astuteness in having turned the tables so unexpectedly on the sundowner, aHd in having so successfully circumvented him in his evidently nefarious 'When in doubt, play trumps,'he to himself complacently said,'and I reckon lye scored this time, Master Sundown Bill He then walked leisurely towards the house, and summoning the men-servants from their abode, instructed them to carry the prostrate man to the wool-shed This done, and lights having been brought, he ordered restoratives to be applied to the unconscions busbman, in order that, if not dead, he might W revived and prepared to the nearest police residency,, there to be charged mth trespassing with malicious fi^VT T6 ™ l * 6 * shot had entored the left shoulder of the poor sundowner; the first had missed aim. The attendants in their rough and ready manner did their best to staunch the fliwiu* wound ana under the effects of the stimulants the injured man slowly recovered consciousness and feebly inquired : ' Where are we, mate V

Keep quiet, old man, you'll be all right shortly,' replied the Btockman, Willams not unsympathetically, for he knew the old sundowner. ■ Ain't this Kangariila ?' asked tho bus tunas. 'lt iß,'said Williamß. ' Where's the boss ? I must see him at once/ said Sundown Bill. •Look here, Bill: you know me, don't you; Bendigo Jack, and if you take my tip you'll leave the boss aloße.* * But I must see him, Jack, it's urgent Tell him to see me quick.' • Are you in earnest, BUI ? You know tbe bcss ain't violets on your sort' •Never mind, mate, tell him to come here quick, or take me to him.* From the earnest pleading look on tbe sundowner's face, tbe stockman assumed that the injured man had really something of importance to communicate, and went in search of his master, whom he found smoking in the verandah. •Sundown Bill wants to see you,sir very particular; he's something on his mind, sir, I fancy.' j Now Jchn Ma«lean had by this time '

com* to tbe conclusion that he had gone, perhaps, too far in his drastic treatment of the wandering bushman, and had a slight fear that in bis capacity of Justice ef the Peace and Magistrate of the country, his summary action would not commend itself to the authorities of the Crown. It occurred to him that on whom magisterial honours are bestowed, from whom judicial and temperate action is expected; and John Maclean was in a more reflective mood when his seivant summoned him to the Bide of the wounded man. He went without remark to interview the bushmin. The latter had not realised, and bad not ytt been informed how and by whom his injury had been inflicted. On the entrance of hia master, the sundowner, slowly and with difficulty ■aid:—

' Ton don't like me, boss, but I never done no harm.'

' Ton know I detest you, and all your accursed fraternity. You're a dangerous, pood-for-nothing lot, and I reckon you've got your deserts this time.'

' Perhaps so, boss; perhaps I ain't no good. T reckon I'm not,' and with this the poor sundowner's voice sank, and he groaned in pais of body and spirit. «I'm shot, boss' ain't IP' he plaintively inquired. .

* I reckon you are,' said the squatter, and he smiled at what appeared to him the homour of the situation. 'Who done it P' ' I did; and I'm prepared to answer for it as a justifiable deed,' emphatically responded the master. ' Peihaps so, boss—perhaps so,' said the sufferer, in a low tremulous voice, and the tears welled up in his wild eyes and coursed down his bronzed and hairy face, * but I done it for the best, boss—l done it for the best.' *lf you survive, you'll have an opportunity to prove that in court,' was the bmtal reply. 'There's no time for more talk, boss. Your boy Boy has broke his leg—kicked by his horse in coming home from Mr Blake's, Ho's lying now at the side of the boundary gate. Put your fastest horses in tbe buggy, and go for him at once, and send'some one to Ballowie for the doctor. Hurry up, boss; you'vo no time to lose.'

John Maclean was struck dumb with amazement and horror. His countenance turned wan with shock, and he trembled in every limb. For fully a minute he stood speechless, staring vacuously at the prostrate man. At last he recovered his speech, and in a hoarse subdued voice instructed the stockman to harness the horses to the buggy without a moment's delay. He then bent down over tho helpless man and inquired in the same constiained voice: * Did you come back to toll me this P* * Yee, boBB j I found the little chap in a bad way; I done what I could for him; gave him the little water I had, and made him as comfortable as poasible with my iugß, but he's in a bad way. sir.' 'And you've walked back thirteen miles to inform me?' asked the master. ' 'Yes, boss; what else could I do; I'd have earned him back if I could, -but he ean't a-bear to be touched.' ' God help me and forgive me,' groaned John Maclean, and he moved away, bowed down with confusion and remorse. : The buggy was ready; rugs, pillows and restoratives wore hurriedly placed therein, and, giving instructions to Williams to ride post haste for tho doctor who resided some thirty-two miles from the station, and strict injunctions that Sundown Bill should have the best attention rendered him until the doctor's arrival, John Maclean entered the vehicle, and accompanied by a man and a maid Bervant, drove off furiously 1o the scene of the accident. That eighty minutes' drive in the parly Christmas morn w»b not a pleasant one for John Maclean. He had been unspeakably unjust and cruel in his, treatment of a felloif creature, and bis punishment was indeed severe, for what retribution so bitter as the requital of evil by good. Amongst a multiplicity of surging thoughts his mind rev rted to one season years agone when hie young wife, 1 whose hfo had not been a too pleasant one, had taught little Boy to lisp : • Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled' \

Peace, mercy, and reconciliation I Heavens! what a travesty of the words had his unfeeling conduct been, for at tnts happy season, and on this day of all days in the year, with a violent discord that reverberated into heaven, he had clanged the #diouß death-knell in upon the sweet harmony of the blessed refrain sung on thiß glad morn by the heavenly choir. And verily, in boomerang fashion, the weapon of violence and malice' which he bad thrown had returned to him again, for there was no peace in the anguished boul of John Maclean. At last the panting horses were pulled up at the boundary gate, and having dismounted from the trap the anxious father, bending over the injured boy and passionately kissing him, cried: 'Boy, dear Ry, what has happened to :yon? Speak to me. Boy!'. * Father!' was all the reply the stricken youth could utter. The maid hastily administered some brandy-and- water to the boy, who presently rallied, and with a faint smile on his wan face, said: 'Oh. father, take me home. My leg. Kicked by Diamond It is so painful.' ' I'll lift you gently, dear Boy, and cake you home,' answered the father. •Where's the busbman, father? Did be tell you P' 'Yea.' 'Where is he?' ' He's ah the station.' 'He was so kind to me. and gave me hia rugs and his last drop of water.' • Yes, he's very good.' * He said he knew you. father.' ♦ Yes, he knows me,' said the father.' 'And we'll give him such a merry Christmas, father.'

'Don't talk too much, Boy, dear; it will tire you out,' said the agonised man. And for a time Boy was quiet. They place him tenderly on the soft cushions and rugß in the buggy, and drove him carefully to his home Arrived at the station, he was borne into a room and laid upon a couch, with every available comfort, there to await the arrival of the doctor. His father ministered to his wants, varying his duty by seeiHg that every attention wbb bestowed on Sundown Bill, who lay in an adjoining room. But John Maclean did not enter therein. (To be continued )