"Scarce a quarter of a mile, and I'll warrant that you will feel amply repaid, tempting as the shadow of yonder tree looks," Smith said, having guessed my weakness for repose.
"Then I will go," I replied.
"I will show you after we pass the bend of the stream," the convict continued while on his hands and knees trying to ignite a fire with prairie chips, "a flock of sheep that are counted by thousands. They stretch over the land for miles in extent; even the owner does not know how many he possesses, and has never visited his stockman, but trusts all to an agent. Of course the latter has full authority to act as he pleases, and sometimes, by some mysterious process, the agent gets richer than the owner, and often buys his property, although where the money comes from, I leave you to guess."
"Then an agent's station is better than an owner's," laughed Fred.
"It would not be if all men were honest," replied the convict, with a gloomy brow; and from that time until the coffee was boiled, he did not speak another word, but appeared to be meditating profoundly upon some difficult problem.
The cattle had quenched their thirst, and were lying beneath the shadows of tall trees, lazily cropping the rank grasses within their reach. Fred and myself had bathed and felt refreshed, and as soon as dinner was over, we announced to the convict our readiness to accompany him upon his visit to the stockman's house, where he had spent so many days of solitude.
"Take your rifles," Smith said, when he saw that we were about to depart without them.
We looked at him inquiringly.
"We are now in regions where escaped convicts range freely; and ten miles from here, by following the windings of this stream, is a forest of gigantic trees and dark recesses, where the police of Melbourne dare not venture. In that dreary retreat bushrangers find homes—stealing forth as they do during the night, to feast upon slaughtered sheep, and rob travellers; they lead an anxious life, as they never know who is about to betray them, and give them up to the merciless rigor of the authorities of the city, or else shoot them down as thoughtlessly as you would a kangaroo, in case one should cross your path."
"I would like to know if we are to carry our rifles for the purpose, of guarding against bushrangers or to kill kangaroos?" I asked.
"Perhaps for both intentions," replied Smith, glancing up and down the stream, as though he was not certain that one animal or the other might not be in sight. "We might meet a bushranger, and if we were without arms he could do his will, and we should be powerless. As for kangaroos, I've killed many on the very spot where we now stand; so let me warn you to keep your eyes open, for they are like lightning in their movements, and it requires a quick eye and steady hand to cover them with a rifle when once they commence their leaps."
"A dollar to a shilling that I hit one the first fire, if not more than thirty rods distant," cried Fred, glancing along his rifle as though one was already in sight.
"I accept the wager," replied the convict, with a laugh at some thought that appeared to strike him at the moment; but without enlightening us he strode along the bank of the stream, leading the way towards the bend of the brook, which was a few rods distant, and concealed a portion of the prairie from view.
As we turned the elbow, or bend of the stream, a small hut met our view, situated near the banks of the brook; while, covering the vast plain were herds of sheep and lambs, so numerous that they seemed like grains of sand upon the shore, and I should as soon have thought of counting the latter, as the former.
The animals raised their heads and looked at us with alarm as we came in sight, and then, appearing to think that we were there for no good purpose, they started off into a run, tumbling over each other in their flight, until they had placed a proper distance between us, when they once more crowded into one dense mass, and then again scrutinized us suspiciously.
"I will show you that I have not forgotten my old trade," Smith said, after we had expressed our wonder at the number of animals before us.
He placed his hand to his mouth as he spoke, and uttered a shrill whistle, which could have been heard for a mile or two. Twice did he repeat the signal, and as he finished, the animals came slowly towards us, as though confident that one who could produce sounds like those was incapable of injuring them.
"Ah!" laughed the convict, "how many times have I called my flock in that manner! and although years have passed since I was a stockman, I have not yet forgotten the trick of the trade."
"Your signals appear to have awakened some one," Fred said, pointing to a man who emerged from the hut, gun in hand, and who seemed undecided whether to treat us as friends or foes.
"I will tell you a few circumstances connected with that man's history," the convict said, as we walked towards him. "Ten years since he was on trial for the murder of his wife. The evidence was not very clear, so the jury brought in a verdict of manslaughter, thinking that they might as well convict on that ground as to let him escape. He was sentenced to transportation for life; but after he had been in the colony three years, new facts were brought to light which made his innocence apparent. His counsel petitioned government for a release; but the ministers turned a deaf ear to all entreaties, and said that as a jury had presumed upon his guilt, they would not think of requesting her majesty to grant a pardon; and the only thing they would attempt, would be to send orders to treat the poor fellow as leniently as possible. In consequence, he was allowed a parole, and entered the service of the man who owns the vast flock of sheep which you see before you. He has grown morose since he has led a solitary life, and if he answers questions at all, it is in monosyllables. But do not treat him as if you knew for what he was transported."
The latter part of Smith's remarks were spoken hurriedly, and in a low tone, for we were close to the unfortunate man when they were uttered, and he feared to be overheard.
I looked at the stockman with singular interest as we approached him. He was, apparently, about fifty years of age, thin and slightly inclined to stoop. His face was strongly marked and peculiar, and at one time he must have passed for an exceedingly good-looking man.
His hair, which was quite white, gave him a venerable appearance; while a long, flowing beard of jet black, combed, and carefully trimmed, reminded me of a distinguished minister that I had once listened to, and whose sermon made an impression upon my mind that has never been effaced.
The stockman retained his defensive attitude, until he recognized the features of Smith, when his gun was rested against the side of the hut, and he once more dropped his head upon his breast, and with folded arms awaited our coming.
"Well!" cried Smith, with assured cheerfulness; "how do you get along nowadays?"
The stockman raised his head, and looked at the questioner as though referring him to his face, with its wrinkles and lines of care, for an answer. A moment after, his head was bowed upon his breast again, and he appeared unconscious that we were present.
"Have you seen Darnley's band lately?" Smith inquired.
"Yes," replied the stockman, still retaining his position.
"Has he visited you within the past few days?" queried Smith.
"Yes," replied the man.
"Ah, his supply of provisions was short," cried Smith, as his eyes sought the flocks as though wondering how many sheep satisfied the bushranger and his gang.
The stockman returned no answer, so we passed him and entered his hut. There were two bedsteads made of hides, a table, two rough chairs, that looked as though introduced during the days of Sir Francis Drake, a few pans hanging against the wall, an old chest with a broken lid and no lock, and these were all the articles of luxury or convenience that graced the cabin of the stockman.
Smith pointed out the spot where Darnley had slept on the night of his visit; and after we had gratified our curiosity, we left the room, and bidding the stockman good-by, started on our return to the team.
The poor man did not reply to our salutation, and after we left