CHAPTER VI.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1902, 13 September 1884, Page 5

CHAPTER VI.

11l news travels fast. A prospector was passing within a short distance of the place where James Scanlan was killed, and hearing the shots and cries, turned in that direction. The riderless horse was unaking the most of the withered powdery grass ; the dead man lay where he had fallen, The prospector at once recognised tyoung Soanlan, and resolved to carry the news to the station. The news had hardly reached the station before Tom's horse came horne — riderless. Nameless terror — fed and nurtured with vague surmises — filled the district. After the first shock of the news, which was an utter inability to realise its import, old Scanlan gave way to gusts of passion. Sending messengers far and wide to the stations and selectors around, he hastened off to see the Suttons and to warn them of the outbreak of the natives. George was not at home, and the news of the murder of James and Tom Scanlan spread fear and terror into their minds and those living around the station. It was well known that George was in the habit of visiting the native camp, and was on friendly terms with the king of that district, who was described as a powerful, treacherous, and blood-thirsty monster. A search party was proposed, but Mr. Scanlan had SBnt messengers round the district with che news, and calling on them to be at Pine Creek Station the following morning with weapons and ammunition. The Sutton family did not retire to rest that night, but sat up waiting anxiously for George to come home. The slightest sound in the distance was listened to with eager interest. He might have escaped with wounds and be struggling painfully home 1 Many were the surmises of those who sat on thai verandah, and of others who aat into the small hours discussing the news. Before midnight the whole district was

tiled with hard hostile feelings ''against the larmlesa and innocent natives. Nearly every vhite man in the district imagined that the ilacks were lurking around to take his life. Fearful stories of the atrocities of the savages of other countries were told and found a local habitation in Australia. They were implicitly believed. The moon threw its beams clear and bright over mountain, creelc, and valley ; no cloud vas in the sky from horizon to horizon. The night passed wearily. The Southern Cross was growing faint and the stars winked wearily. The sharp beams of the sun discovered a few fleecy clouds that hung high above, they tipped the mountains, and finally tlooded the valleys. But George came not ; he was given up for lost. Jame<3 and Tom Scanlan and Gsorge Sutton; these three had been brutally and Treacherously murdered by the natives. Such svas the news next morning as squatters and selectors met each other wending their way on horseback towards Mr. Soanlan's station. The stories of the previous night were repeated with more horrible addition, if possible, and before the station was reached every man had an injury to avenge and a home to defend. The station presented a strange appearance. Brawny sunburnt men here and there stood in groups ; not louuging about, but erect and ready. Every new comer as he emerged from the scrub on the one hand or came galloping over the forest land on the other was greeted with a cheer that made tha echoes answer. Most of them weie in breeches, high-legged boots, woollen shirt, and broad-brimmed hat or helmet. The firearms were of all kinds and conditions — the Joe Manton and the unnamed or unacknowledged, the brand new one to the rusty old musket with its stock held together by bits of wire and cord. Old Scanlan was the centre of an excited group. Besides his revolvers he had buckled to his side the sword of a worthy ancestor ; it was an heiiloom, and not within the memory of any member of the family, had it been uued otherwise than as a precious relic, and as a momento of the prowess of him who had wielded it for the credit of his countvy. "Loading wastes time. This will gat through more work,"' he said, patting the hilfc. Many there recounted with fiendish delight and energy the adventui.es they had had with the blacks ; but this day was to outdo all past days — a day to be written in blood and puctuated with the lives of men, women, and children. " Sutton is long in coming," said Scanlan, impatiently. " Here he is ! " cried an excited group, as he made his way through the scrub into the open. Sutton was one of the few squatters in the district who treated the natives with kindness even to extreme. He was a sure advocate when others maligned. No surprise, however, was felt at his appearance amongst them this morning. The foul deeds had banished from the hearts of all what little sense of pity or justice had slumbered there 1 All were eager for a start. A cooey from the station brought in several settlers who had been acting as sentinels in case of attack. It was arranged to make for the nearest camp. The whole party mounted, and in an irregular mass, led by Mr. Scanlan, galloped over the flat and across the creek. As they passed along several natives, who bore looks of unwonted ferocity, were seen on the heights, and a few shots were fired at them. One native was Been on the level country, and tfrank Allison and others set apurs to their horses and followed. The native gave them a good run for it, but he could not run from a bullet, and when he fell they at once rejoined the main party. "That's my duck's egg broken," Frank cooly remarked. As the party went westward they came upon the borders of Scarlett's country, and sighted a native camp. This camp had no connection with King Bonshaw's. The natives were moving about as usual, without the slightest suspicion of danger. The whole party gave an eager shout and spurred on. " Let us press on before they make off," cried Seanlan. ' " Are you loaded, Allißon ? " "As for me I'll use this good old blade. It will be red before night." " Let each select his man. No use wasting two bullets over one blackfellow." " Shoot them all 1 " "Yes, by heaven 1 fellow, gin, and picaninny, all are the devil's own." Scanlan led the way somewhat in advance of the others. He was mounted on a magnificent coal black entire horse that was more excited than his rider. The natives feared him : " Terror's " paddock was well known and carefully avoided. Any unwary native who ventured into that paddock while its master was at home soon repented his trespass. The animal with a snort of rage Would rush at the native, seize him in his mouth, dash him to the ground, and trample him to death before he had time to utter a cry for help. " Terror " nftw seemed to have grown mad, and gallopped furiously on with open nostrils and extended neok. The natives became alarmed and deserted the camp. They fled to the scrub close at hand, but not before " Terror " had struck down several, and Scanlan's heirloom had been dyed with blood. A large and powerful native rode into the scrub and endeavored to rally the natives, but no persuasion, however eloquent, could iquse their patriotism. They slunk further into the scrub, and feared the mounted natives as muoh as they feared the whites. Several bullets were sped after this native as he rode fearlessly along, but he came out safe from them all. When he saw it was no use urging the natives to defend their homes and lives, he turned with defiance gleaming from his noble eyes, and, waiving his spear, gallopped towards the mountains.