LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2451, 13 February 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE GULLY OF BLUEMANSDVKB. A Truk Colonial Story. ("London Society.’) They camped out that night seventeen miles from Trafalgar, and next day pushed on ss far as where the Stirling road runs across. The third morning brought them to the northern bank ef the Wawirra, which they forded. Here a council of war was held, for they were entering what they regarded as enemy’s country. Tho bush track, though wild, was occasionally traversed both by shepherds and sportsmen. It would hardly be the home of a gang of desperate bushrangers. But beyond the Wawirra the great rugged range of the Tapu mountains towered np to tne clouds, and across a wild spur of these the mining track passed up to Blnemsnsdyko. It was hero they dec ded at the council that the scene of the late drama lay. The question now was what means were to bo ta'ten to attack the murderers ; for that murder had been done no man doubted. All were of one mind as to what the main line of action should be. To go for them atra'gbt, shoot as many as possible cn sight, and hang the balance in Trafalgar ; that was plain sailing. But how to got at them was the subject of much debate. The troopers were for pushing on at onco, and treating to Fortune to put the rangers in their way. Tho miners proposed rather to gain some neighbouring peak, from which a good view of tho country could be obtained, and some idea gained of their whereabouts, Chicago Bill took rather a gloomy view of things. ‘Nary ono will we see, ’ said he; ‘they’ve dusted out of the district ’fore this. They’d know the horse would go home, and likely as not they’ve had a watch on tha road to warn them. I guess, boys, we’d best move on an’ de our beat ’ There was some discusion, but Chicago’s opinion carried tho day, and the expedition pushed on in a body. After passing the second upland station the scenery becomes more and more grand and rugged. Great p aks two and three thousand feet high rose sheer up at each side of the narrow track. The heavy wind and rain of the storm had brought down much dchris, and the road was almost impassable in places. They were frequently compelled to dismount and to lead the horses. ‘We haven’t far now, boys,’ said the inspector cheerily, as they straggled on; and ho pointed to a great dark cleft which yawned in front of them between two almost perpendicular cliffs. * They are there.’ ho said, ‘or nowhere.’ A little higher the road became better and their progress was more rapid. A halt was called, guns were unslung, and their pistols lo'sened in their belts, for the great gnlly of Bluemansdyke—the wildest part of the whole Tapu range—was gaping before them. But not a thing to be seen ; all was as still as tho grave. Tho horses were picketed in a quiet little ravine, and the whole party crept on on foot. The Southern sun glared down hot and clear on tho yellow bracken and banks of fern which lined the narrow windiug track. Still, not a sign of life. Then came a clear low whistle from the two advanced troopers, announcing that something had been discovered, and the main body hurried up. It was a spot for deeds of blood. On ono side of the road there lowered a black gnarled precipice, on the other was the sullen mouth of the rngged gully. The road took a sharp turn at this spot. Just at the angle several large boulders were scattered, lining and overlooking the track. It was at this angle that a little bed of mad and trampled red clay betokened a recent struggle. There could be no question that they were at the scone of the murder of the two young miners. The outline cf a horse could still be seen In the sofs ground, and the prints of its hoofs as it kicked out in its death agony were plainly marked. Behind one of the rocks were the tracks of several feet, and some pistol-wad-ding was found in a tuft cf ferns. The whole tragedy lay unclosed before them. Two men, carelets In the pride cf their youth and their stiength, had swept round that fatal ou?ve. Then a crash, a groan, a brutal laugh, the galloping of a frightened horse, and all was over. What was to be done now ? The rocks around were explored, but nothing fresh discovered. Some six days had elapsed, and the birds were apparently flown. The party separated and hunted about among the boulders. Then tho American, who could follow a trail like a bloodhound, found tracks leading towards a rugged pile of rooks on the north side of the gully. In a crevice here the remains of three horses were found. Close to them the rim of an old straw hat projected through the loose loam. Hartley, tha sheep farmer, sprang over to pick it up ; he started back in the act of stooping, and said in an awestruck whisper to his Liend Murphy, ‘There’s a head under it, Dan 1’ A few strokes of a spade disclosed a face familiar to most of the group—that of a poor travelling photographer well known in the colony by the sotriqnet of ‘Stooping Johnny,’ who had disappeared some time before. It was now in advancad stage of putrefaction. Close to him another body was ditcovered, and another beside that. In all thirteen victims cf these English Thugs were lying under the shadow of the great north wall of the Bluemansdyke gully. It was there, ttmdlng in silent awe round the n mains of these poor fellows, hurried into eternity and hurled like dogs, that the search party registered a vow to sacrifice all interests and comforts for tho space of one month to the single consideration of revenge. Tho inspector uncovered his grizzled head as he solemnly swore it, and his comrades followed his example. The bodies were then with a brief prayer consigned to a deeper grave, a rough cairn was created over thorn, and the eleven men set forth upon their mission of stern justice. Three weeks had passed—three weeks and two days. The sun was sinking over the great waste ot bush land, unexplored and unknown, which stretches away from the eastern slope of the Topu mountains. Save Bonr-e eocentiio sportsman or bold prospector, no colonist had ever ventured into that desolate laud ; yet on this autumn evening two men were standing in a little glade in the very heart of it. They were engaged tying up their horses and apparently making preparations for camping out for the night. Though haggard, unkempt, and worn, one still might recognise two of our former acquaintances—the yomg Irish trooper and the American Chicago Bill. This was tho last effort of tho avenging party. They had traversed the mountain gorges, they had explored every gully and ravine, and now they had split into several small bonds, and, having named a tryeting place, they were scouring tho country in the hope of hitting upon some trace of the murderers. Foley and Anson had remained among the hills, Murdoch and Dan Murphy wore exploring towards Rathnrst, Summerville and the inspector had ascended along the Wiwcrrs, while the others in three parties were wandering through tho eastern bash land.

Booth tho trooper and the miner seemed dejected and weary. The one had set out with visions of glory, and hopes of a short out to tho coveted stripes which would put him above his fellows; the other had obeyed a rough wild sense of justice ; and each was alike disappointed. Tho horses were picketed, and the men threw than-

selves heavily upon the gronnd. There was no need to light a fire ; a few dampers and some rusty bacon were their whole provisions. Baxter produc’d them, and handed his share to his comrade. They ate their rongh meal without a word, Braxton was tho first to break the silence.

* We’re playing our last card,’ ho Raid. 1 And a darned poor one at that,’ replied bis comrade.

‘Why, mate,’ ho continued, ‘if wo did knock up again these all fired varmin, ye don’t suppose you and I would go for them? I guets I’d up an’ shove for Trafalgar first.’

Braxton smiled. Chicago’s reckless courage was too well known In the oolony for any words of his throw a doubt upon it. Minors still tell how, during the first great rash in ’52, a blustering rnffian, relying upon some similar remark of the pioneer’s had tried to establish a reputation by an unprovoked assault upon him ; and the narrators then glide imperceptibly into an account of Bill’s handsome conduct towards the widow —how he had given her his week’s clean-up to start her in a drinking shanty. Braxton thought of this os he smiled at Chicago’s remarks, and glanced at the massive limbs and weather-beaten face. ‘ We’d best eee where wo are before it grows darker,’ he said; and rising ho stacked his gun against the trunk of a blue gumtreo and, seizing some of the creepers which hung down from it, began rapidly and silently to ascend It. Hia soul’s too big for his body.’ growled the American, as he watched the dark lithe figure standing out against the pale-blue evening sky. ‘ What d’ye see, Jack?’ he shouted, for the trooper had reached the topmost branch by this time, and was taking a survey of tho country. ‘ Bush, bush ; nothing but bush,’ said the voice among the leaves. ‘ Wait a bit, though, there's a kind of hill about three miles off away to the nor’-east. I see it above the trees right over there. Not much good to ns, though,’ he continued, after a pause, ‘ for it seems a barren stony sort of place.’ Chicago paced abont at the bottom of the tree.

*He seems an almighty long time prospectin’ it,’ he mnttered, after ten minutes had elapsed. *Ah, here he is !’ and the trooper came swinging down and lauded panting just in front of him. ‘ Why, what’s come over him ? What’s the matter Jack ?’

Something was the matter. That was very evident. There was a light in Braxton’s blue eyes, and a flush on the pale cheek.

•Bill,’ he said, putting his hand on his comrade’s shoulder, ‘ it’s about time yon made tracks for the settlements.’

4 What d’ye mean ?’ said Chicago. • Why, I mean that the murderers are within a league of us, and that I intend going for them. There, don’t be huffed, old man,’ he added; ‘of course I knew yon were only joking. But they are there, Bill; I saw smoke on the top of the hill and it wasn’t good honest smoke, mind yon;_it was dry-wood smoke, and meant to be hid. I thought it was mist at first; but no, it was smoke. I’ll swear It. It could only be them ; who else would camp on the summit of a desolate hill ? We’ve got them, Bill; we have them as sure as Fate.’

‘Or they’ve got us,’ growled the Ameri’ can. ‘ But here, lad, here’s my glass ; run up and have a look at them.’ 4 It’s too dark now,’ said Braxton ; 4 we’ll camp out to-night. No fear of them stirring. XheyTe lying by there until the whole thing blows over, depend npon it ; so we’ll make sure of them In the morning. ’ The miner looked plaintively up at the tree, and then down at hia fourteen stone of solid muscle.

‘I guess I must take your word for it,’ he grumbled; but you are bushman enough to tell smoke from mist, and a dry wood fire from an open one. We can’t do anything to-night till we feel our way, so I allow we’d best water the horses an’ have a good night’s rest. ’ Braxton seemed to be of the same mind ; so after a few minutes’ preparation the two men wrapped themselves in their cloaks, and lay, two little dark spots on the great green carpet of the primeval bush. With the first grey light of dawn, Chicago sat up and roused hia comrade. A heavy mist hung over the bush land. They could hardly see the loom of the trees across the little glade. Their clothes glistened with the little shining beads of moisture. They brushed each other down, and squatted In bush fashion over their rough breakfast. The haze seemed to be lifting a little now ; they could see fifty yards fn every direction. The miner paced up and down in silence, ruminating over a ping of 4 Barrett’s twist.’ Braxon sat on a fallen tree sponging and oiling fc is revolver. Suddenly a single beam of sunshine played over the great blue gum. It widened and spread, and then in a moment the mist melted away, and the yellow leaves glowed like flakes of copper in the glare of the morning snn. Braxton cheerily snapped the look of the pistol, loaded it, and replaced it in his belt. Chicago began to whistle, and stopped in the middle of his walk.

•Now, young ’an,’ he said, ‘here’s the glass.’

(To be continued.)