The Who Helped Ned Kelly

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 753, 28 August 1929, Page 5

The Who Helped Ned Kelly

Vy

CHARLES E. TAYLOR

[ Copyright ]

CHAPTER XVIII. THE TRAGEDY AT STRINGYBARK CREEK ‘Costello seems to have got ou averybody’s nerves, and I’m afraid my lucky guess is the cause of it..” “Lucky guess!” exclaimed Ned. “It was only that. I saw enough of Costello at Sam Jackson’s to know he was a silly young fool, who couldn’t last long, but I didn’t know J hit. the bullseye like I did.” Ned leaned over toward Jack. “Is that the truth you’re telling us?” “Why should f tell you a lie, Ned?” The outlaw did not reply immediately. He thought for some time, then he said with a reverence that rather surprised Briant: “Will you swear by the good name of the mother who bore you, by the Almighty God above you. you aren't working with the police? ”1 will.” responded Jack. “If l thought you were a spy I’d moot you like a dog.” “And I wouldn't blame you,” agreed Briant.. They talked far into the night. Jack *as anxious to hear from Ned his version of the tragedy of Stringyhark Creek, and he adroitly led the conversation in that direction. “I know’ you didn’t, murder those three policemen in cold blood.” #he added. “Of course we didn't.” cried Ned, with some show of feeling. e could have shot them the day before if we wanted to. We watch€*d the four troopers pitch their camp, and it would have been easy to have put » bullet through any of them. We did want their guns and ammunition and food, though. That’s why we bailed up Mclntyre aud Lonergan Kennedy and Scanlon were down the creek. Lonergan showed fl ?ht. and was sbot. “We promised Mclntyre if he would '©ll the other two to surrender when ihey came back everything would be all right. I’m sorry Lonergan was killed, but he shouldn’t have tried to 3raw his revolver.” “What about the report that you told Mclntyre you mistook him for Constable Flood, and that if it had been Flood you’d have roasted him alive?” Briant interrupted. “All lies,” replied the bushranger, w ith some vehemence. “I believe the Police would have shot us on sight if they’d had a chance, but I didn’t want murder on my hands. I did talk A hit to Mclntyre to scare him, but * the other two had put up their bands when he asked them to they d have been alive today.’ Mclntyre did beg them to surrender V * *We all heard him. We told them 'o bail up. but they refused.” tMd Kennedy fire at you?” ‘He did, and he was a good shot, lo °* One of his bullets went through beard, and another grazed Dau’s ( 'heek. Scanlon was unslinging his nfle when we got him.” it was a terrible business, Ned.” •My God, it was!” the outlaw assented. “We’d bad a rough time rom the police, and my mother was •k because Fitzpatrick lied About what happened when he to our place, but we weren’t murr|frers Supposing we hadn’t shot hem. where would we have been? It a f a j r tight, and we won.” Kennedy and Scanlon were brave 1 Jack ventured.

Ftravp, but foolish. Mclntyre had Phick. too. We might have shot him.

too, when he jumped on Kennedy’s horse and galloped off." “You did fire at him?"

"We did, aud some of the bullets went pretty 'close. We could tell by the way he kept ducking.”

"If you were anxious to kill him, too, you would have followed him." “We didu't want any more bloodshed,” said Ned, with a little quaver in his voice. “That was over two months ago, and since then the police have kept us moving. It was a bad business, and the man responsible for it was Fitzpatrick. His lies put my mother in gaol, and drove Dan and me into the bush. Nojv, we’d better get some sleep. We’ve got a few ba,gs, and you can have a couple of miue.” “No, you keep them,” Jack protested. “Y'ou’ll need all yours." “It gets cold in these hills even at this time of year. Get under these.” And Ned tossed him two sacks slit down the centre. * “Do you all sleep at once?” Jack asked, as he noticed that Dan. Hart and Byrne also were preparing to rest. “There’s someone else watching tonight.” replied Ned. “We won’t be disturbed. Good night to you boy'.” “Good-night, Ned. And you three, too!” “Night!” gruffly responded Byrne, the only one of the three to speak. Tired as he was, Briant's brain refused to rest. Here he was in the bushrangers' camp. Within a few feet of him lay the four men for whom the whole Victorian force was searching—outlaws with a price upon their heads The regular breathing of Ned and Joe Byrne told him that they were asleep. He was not so certain about Dan and Steve Hart. He had an idea that the younger Kelly was watching him from the shadow of the rock under which he lay. Suppose by some miracle the gang were captured that night, what would his position be? With some misgiving he recalled that section of the Felons’ Apprehension Act which provided for a maximum penalty of fifteen years' imprisonment for anyone giving assistance in any form to the outlaws. The countryside had been liberally plastered with proclamations concerning the Kellys, and he almost knew the text of some of them by heart. There was one clause which had impressed him particularly —that which made it lawful for "any of Her Majestv’s subjects whether a constable or not and without being accountable for tlte using of any deadly weapon in aid of such apprehension whether its use be preceded by a demand of surrender or not to apprehend and take such outlaws alive or dead.” For hours he lay awake. There was a faint light in the eastern sky when eventually he managed to got to sleep, and it. seemed to him that he had just closed his eyes when the voices of the gang awakened him. “Good Lord, daylight already! he exclaimed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. ”1 don’t believe I’ve slept an hour.” , . . „ “Wasn't like the feather beds you ve been used to. I suppose?" There was a sneer in Dan Kelly’s voice. “Mv bed’s been just as hard as yours lately, except when I was at Jacobson’s. Heavens, what a view!” Jack walked to the edge of the nlateau At his feet yawned a chasm hundreds of feet deep. Across the purple abyss the hills were tipped by the glow Of the rising sun, and the

sky beyond them ranged in colour from deep red to pearl grey. There is a glory in sunrise in the Australian bush unequalled in any other part of the world. Never before had Jack seen it in such arresting beauty. To the others it had no such appeal. It meant the beginning of another day of peril—of nerve-racking vigilance—of doubts and fears. As Briant surveyed the scene he was struck, too, by the fact that if Nature had purposely fashioned a hiding place she could scarcely have improved upon that rocky platform dizzily perched on the mountainside. Access was possible only through the belt of timber which he had found so diflicult to penetrate. That was the only vulnerable spot, for no one could climb the sides of the mountain, which rose straight from the gully hundreds of feet below. The plateau was open only to the hills a mile away, and as it was higher than the highest mountain top it is doubtful if any part of it was visible, even through powerful glasses. “Why, Ned, you’re as safe here as if half Australia were guarding you,” said Briant. “There’s only one danger spot—that clump of timber. You could light a bonfire in the daytime and no one see it.” Ned silently shook his head. “I’m going to give you tea for breakfast this morning—if you can find some water. May I use that billy?” ! “It's too dangerous.” “It isn’t dangerous at. all. Let me show you.” With a tomahawk which lay among a miscellaneous collection of food and clothes under a ledge of rock, Jack cut four forked sticks about three feet long, after being shown by Ned how to deaden the sound of the chopping. Driving these into the ground so as to form a square, he cut a number of light boughs, and constructed a roof. “If we build a fire under that,” he exclaimed, “the leaves will filter the smoke and make it invisible at the height of a few feet. You natch.” lie placed a bough under the shelter and set a light to it, the others watching him with keen interest. Blue smoke rose from it in a cloud, but the leafy screen broke it up so effectively that the tiny spirals which came through it were quickly absorbed in the air, and were invisible almost immediately. “Who taught you that?” asked Ned. admiringly. “That was a trick 1 learnt, from a book I read as a boy. Now what about some water, and then for some steaming hot tea.” Steve Hart took the billy and disappeared into the scrub belt, returning a few minutes later with it full of crystal liquid. “You seem to have water laid on here,” Jack remarked. “There’s a spring a few feet lower down, but it takes some getting at,” Ned told him. “Don't put too much on the Are at once.” Briant laughed away his fears as he carefully built uji a lire from the embers "of the experimental bough. From the improvised storehouse under the rock ledge Joe Byrne produced four pannikins. “Had beer in | 'em.” he said, sniffing one of them, i “Never mind —give the tea a flavour.” “Better rinse them out when the water boils,” said Ned. It was not long before the tea was ready, and they drank it with relish, Ned insisting that Jack should have a pannikin while he used the lid of the billy. “Sorry I came along?” Briant grinned, as he noted their appreciation. “It does warm you up, doesn’t it? Remember our last drink of tea together, Ned?” The bushranger smiled at the recollection of his meeting with this audacious youngster, and of the startling trick that had been played upon him. Dan Kelly, Steve Hart and Joe Byrne showed by their expressions that Ned had not told them of that memorable encounter, j “Any wallabies round here?” Jack asked. I “Millions,” replied Byrne, i "Well, what's wrong with roast meat |today?” j “How can we shoot wallabies?” I asked l)au querulously. “You can hear i gunshots for miles round these hills."

“What did they use before guns were invented?” Steve Hart laughed. "What you going to do —spear ’em, or club em, or shoot ’em with arrows?” "If you can get close enough it isn’t hard to kill a wallaby with an arrow.” “We can always get meat,” Ned cut in. "We’ve never bothered about fresh meat because we-eouldn’t cook it, but now you’ve shown us the way it’ll be different. We’ll get some tonight.” “Why not today?” Dan made an impatient gesture. "If you think It’s easy dodging troopers in the daytime you’re“Couldn’t I go for it?” Jack interrupted. "It wouldn’t be safe,” Ned assured him. Their breakfast was much the same as the evening meal had been —junks or corned beef and bread and butter —but the hot tea added relish, and the five of them ate heartily. "W’hat do you do when it rains?” Jack asked, looking round and noting the poor shelter which the rock ledges afforded. “Get wet,” replied Dan. Briant grinned. "Don’t think I want to criticise your hushcraft too severely, but the man who gets wet in a place like this doesn’t know—well, he doesn’t know how to get in out of the rain!” “You do, I suppose?” sneered Steve Hart. “I most certainly do. Here’s a ledge of rock about three feet high, about fifteen feet long, and jutting out niore than two feet. At a pinch two of vou could sleep under it. Supposing you dug out the earth for four or five feet and covered the ground with bracken, you'd all be as snug as a bug in a rug. I suppose it’d be easy to borrow spades from your friends?” “Dead easy,” assented Dan. “Then if you want shelter, why not?” “We’ve got to move on,” said Ned, after a pause. “All the same it’d be handy to have a place like this to fall back on.” “We won’t be in this district much longer,” Ned volunteered. The glances of the others showed that they considered the remark indiscreet. “I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Jack. “I’ll fix it up for you while you’re away.” “Supposing we don’t come back this | way?” suggested Hart. “Then I’ll use it myself as a summer residence. I say, where do you keep your horses?” The question surprised the gang, and none of them seemed disposed to answer it. Briant laughed at this reticence. “I see I’m still not to be trusted.” “It isn’t that, only—” “Never mind, Ned. t was merely curious.” “They’re safe where no damned ti-ooper’s likely to find ’em,” declared Dan. “I didn’t suppose you kept them at the livery stable in Benalla. Going away, Ned?” ; | With the exception of Byrne, all j the outlaws were strapping in their j revolvers. “Yes, we’ve got something to do. i Joe’s staying here. You’d better get j away, too.” I “No, I'm staying.” I Dan looked first at Jack and then | at his brother. “He's the only man j I’ve heard you let talk like that, j What's coming over you?” } Ned did not reply. He picked up a | sack, threw it over his arm, and dis- ■ appeared into the scrub. Dan and Hart 1 following. CHAPTER XIX JOE BYRNE'S REMORSE “Dan's got a set on me.” remarked Briant, as he watched them go. *T suppose it isn't to be wondered at. This sort of life isn’t likely to make one very amiable.” Byrne's lips parted in mirthless smile. “You’re right there, Dan's always a bit irritable. There’d be trouble with him but for Ned.” “Ned’s a fine fellow.” “One of the best.” ‘ “It seems such a hell of a pity.” “What do you mean?” asked Byrne, wheeling round. “You know what 1 mean, Joe. Why

t don't you all clear out ot the country? ! j It’s your only chance. They’ll get j ! you If you don’t.” ‘‘There’s things to do first.” Jack made an impatient gesture, j “Surely there’s nothing as important ; to you as your lives.” | Byrne thought for a moment before j | replying. ‘‘You don’t understand. We ; couldn't get away if we had the ! ! Money.” | “Of course you could. My people i ; are in the shipping line, and 1 could | ; fix it. I've told Ned that already, but i j he says it can’t be done —yer. it's | j foolish —it’s suicidal!” 1 Byrne’s gaze was very searching as j | he asked, “Didn't. Ned tell you why?” I j “No. Why?” I The other remained silent. ; “If there are reasons that I shouldn't j ! know, all right. All the same, Ned ! | seems damned obstinate. Once you l got to the coast you'd be safe. I'd I see to that.” “But we mightn’t get to the coast." Noticing Briant’s perplexity he added: “About here things are different. We've got plenty of good friends j

j to keep an t on tlie troopers and on those who mightn't be as friendly as they seem. There's a fair bit of money to be had for putting us away, and money counts a lot with some ! people.” “Yes. I know that, but how does staying round here help?” “We’re not staying round here. We’ve got other things to do.” Jack was beginning to see a little clearer. "Now I see daylight. Some l of your supposed friends might be willing to forgo the Government rei ward if you could satisfy them in i another way. The banks, eh?” “I didn’t say that!”—sharply, j Briant smiled. i “You really did. Joe. Bank robbery’s a dangerous game, though.” i “Isn’t .this dangerous?” Jack laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“Of course it is, and I wish you’d let me get you out. If you hadn’t shot those policemen!” Byrne went to the cliff edge and stood with bowed head. He remained there for fully a minute, then slowly turned, walked to a rock, and buried : his face in his hands. “God, it was , awful!” he said, without looking up. Briant seated himself beside him and put his arm round his shoulders. | “None of us wanted to kill,” the young bushranger went on in a voice I that showed the remorse he was feel- ; ing. “We expected them to surrender, | and when they didn’t—well, we fired, | because in some way or other, it was j impossible to do anything else. Oh 1 God! why did it happen?” ! “Don’t talk about it, Joe,” said Jack. ! “But I’ve got to talk about it, or I’ll j go mad! Xed won’t let us mention it, ! and I feel unless someone will listen to me I won't be able to stand it. They call us murderers —the troopers tell my mother her son’s a murderer but we’re not. I’d give the rest of my life to bring back those three men! We could have shot a dozen troopers j at different times if we d wanted to.”

'‘You've got to get away and make a fresh start in a new country," Briant persisted. "There’s no other way.” "Not yet—not yet!" “You could go over to Sydney. If you lie low for a while the police would be certain to let up a bit, and you could easily cross the Murray.” “1 wTsh we could. What’s thai He turned sharply as his keen ears caught a slight rustle in the scrub, j Motioning Jack to remain where he was, he parted the foliage and looked 1 about him. Then he cautiously nicked his way through the trees. When he had been gone several moments Briant followed him. Presently he found the path, and with careful footsteps made his way toward the edge of the timber belt. There he found Byrne, who started violently at the sound of his approach. He put his finger to his lips and pointed down the hill. (To be continued tomorrow)