



Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from scans of public domain works at The National
Library of Australia.)






+-------------------------------------------------+
|Transcriber's note:                              |
|                                                 |
|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.  |
|                                                 |
+-------------------------------------------------+


THE LOST EXPLORERS

[Illustration: "AND ALL THIS TIME THE HAPPY-GO-LUCKY SHADOW WAS PLUGGING
ALONG OVER THE THIRSTY DESERT SANDS"]


THE LOST EXPLORERS

A STORY OF THE TRACKLESS DESERT

BY

ALEXANDER MACDONALD
F.R.G.S., F.R.S.G.S., F.R.C.I.

Author of
"In Search of El Dorado"
"The Trail of the Pioneer"
"Pioneering in Klondike"

ILLUSTRATED BY ARTHUR H. BUCKLAND

BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED
LONDON GLASGOW DUBLIN BOMBAY
1907


_Copyrighted in the United States, America
by Blackie & Son, Limited_


DEDICATED TO

B. B.




PREFACE


In this work I have endeavoured to portray a phase of life in a far-away
land, a land concerning which we have only too little knowledge at the
present time, though it is one of our Empire's greatest colonies. I am
aware that to make a book composed largely of real
happenings--especially when one writes for the youth of the nation--is a
somewhat unusual thing to do. In _The Lost Explorers_ I have given a
tale of gold-digging and of exploration--a tale, for the most part, of
events that have actually happened. My characters are all drawn--however
crudely--from life; my descriptions are those of one who has seen and
felt in a similar environment. My boys in the story were real boys, and
they dared and suffered and accomplished together. As for Mackay, he is
still a power in the land, ready and willing always, as he said to his
young companions, "to shed the light of his great knowledge abroad for
the benefit of mankind in general".

The last few chapters of the book are based on an explorer's natural
deductions. We all, who have forced a painful path over Central
Australia's arid sands, hope--ay, believe--in the existence of a
wonderful region in the vague mists of the Never Never Land. Perhaps
the very strenuousness of the wish brings about the belief. Who can
say? My descriptions of the strange aborigines beyond the mystic
mountains are not altogether fanciful. In my own wanderings I have
encountered more than one tribe whose mental development was far in
advance of that usually credited to the untutored savage of the great
Island Continent. What I have written, I have written faithfully, and to
the best of my ability. If _The Lost Explorers_ gives pleasure to my
readers, I shall indeed be more than content.

ALEXANDER MACDONALD.




CONTENTS

CHAP.                                     Page
   I. A MOMENTOUS DECISION                  11

  II. OUTWARD BOUND                         29

 III. GOLDEN FLAT                           46

  IV. THE TREASURE OF THE MINE              66

   V. THE RUSH AT GOLDEN FLAT               93

  VI. THE SHADOW'S GREAT EFFORT            112

 VII. BOB'S TRIUMPH                        131

VIII. MACGUIRE'S THREAT                    151

  IX. INTO THE UNKNOWN                     192

   X. AN AWKWARD PREDICAMENT               207

  XI. THE FINDING OF FORTUNATE SPRING      227

 XII. A NIGHT ATTACK                       244

XIII. THE MYSTIC MOUNTAIN                  267

 XIV. THE STRUGGLE BY THE MOUNTAIN         285

  XV. THE SECRET OF THE MOUNTAIN           304

 XVI. THE PRISONERS BY THE MOUNT           342




ILLUSTRATIONS

                                                   Page
"AND ALL THIS TIME THE HAPPY-GO-LUCKY SHADOW WAS
PLUGGING ALONG OVER THE THIRSTY DESERT SANDS"
                                   _Frontispiece_   116

"LOOK WHAT'S COMING, BOYS"                           48

"JACK FELT A BALL GRAZE HIS TEMPLE; THEN HIS OWN
RIFLE SPOKE"                                        173

"HE UNFOLDED A LONG TRACK CHART WHICH HE CARRIED IN
HIS HAND"                                           207

"IT LOOKED AS IF NOTHING COULD STAND AGAINST THAT
MADDENED RUSH"                                      255

"EMU BILL GENTLY PILLOWED HIS DYING COMRADE'S HEAD
UPON HIS KNEE"                                      292

"MACKAY RUSHED TO MEET THE NEW-COMER"               341

"MACKAY, CLUTCHING FAST TO THE ARMOURY OF THE
EXPEDITION, WAS HAULED TO THE SURFACE"              370




THE LOST EXPLORERS




CHAPTER I

A Momentous Decision


"I'm full up of this ceaseless grind, Jack," suddenly broke out Robert
Wentworth, a tall, slenderly built young man of about eighteen years of
age, throwing down the paper he had been reading with unnecessary
energy.

Jack Armstrong aroused himself from a reverie, and looked up with an
amused gleam in his grey eyes. He was a medium-sized, squarely built
youth about two years the junior of the first speaker.

"I believe I have heard you say that before, Bob," he said; "but all the
same you echo my sentiments exactly. Still, what can we do? Our
munificent salaries do little more than pay for our board in these
digs"--he waved his hand comprehensively around the little room which
they shared together--"and consequently we haven't saved enough to buy
our steam yacht yet!" He laughed with affected cheerfulness.

Wentworth's strong, studious-looking face clouded momentarily.

"That's all very well, Jack," he answered severely; "but you know that
there is little chance of our present positions improving to any
extent. Engineering is good enough for the few; but I can plainly see
that life is too short for us to make a fortune at the game. The fact
is," he added, in a more moderate tone, "this country is too crowded for
us, and too old. Everything is standardized so accurately that we are
little more than machines; and we must exist on our paltry pittances,
seeing nothing but grime and smoke and rain and fogs, until we become
old and brain-sodden, with never a hope beyond the morrow. No, I am
tired of it--absolutely full up of it." He picked up the discarded paper
once more, and directed Armstrong's attention to a paragraph under the
heading of General News, and this was what the younger man read--

"Mr. James Mackay, who was the only survivor of the ill-fated Bentley
Exploring Expedition in Central Australia, arrived in the city last
night, and is staying at the Central Hotel. It will be remembered that
Mr. Bentley's party was massacred by the blacks some months ago, the
only man escaping being Mr. Mackay, chief bushman to the expedition,
who, fortunately, was not with the others when they were attacked. It is
generally supposed that the unknown tracks in Western and Central
Australia hold vast treasure of gold and gems in their keeping, and they
provide the incentive which sends the explorer across these trackless
wastes."

"So that's the country you would like to go to, Bob," he said
quizzically, "where explorers get killed by the natives?"

"Not exactly," replied Wentworth; "but it attracts me all the same. My
only uncle went out to Australia about ten years ago, and we never heard
of him again; I suppose that has given me an interest in the country,
for I remember him well as one of the finest men one could wish to meet.
Anyhow, there can be no gain without risk, Jack, and I have often
thought of trying my luck at the goldfields in Australia, though I don't
suppose there can be much danger from the natives where they are."

"But there is time enough yet," ventured Armstrong. "We are not so very
old----"

"All the more reason," returned his companion, quickly, "that we should
decide on our future while our brains are fresh. If we continue on in
the same groove here, we'll get so accustomed to it that we won't want
to leave it. No, Jack, I am in earnest. I have decided to get out of
it."

"You can't get out of it without me, Bob," said Armstrong, quietly. "You
know I go with you. We haven't been chums these two years for nothing.
And," he added proudly, "I am as strong as most men, and able to take
care of myself in any part of the world."

Wentworth laughed grimly. "We'll face it together, Jack," said he.

"And we'll carve our way in it successfully, too," cried the boy,
enthusiastically, now completely won over. "Hurrah for Australia, the
land of gold!"

They arose and clasped hands, Wentworth's face expressing determined
resolve, Armstrong's shining with the light of eagerness and hope.

Robert Wentworth and Jack Armstrong were chums in the truest sense of
the word. They had been attracted to each other from their first day of
meeting, when Armstrong, whose father had just died leaving him an
orphan, homeless and well-nigh penniless, arrived at the Clyde
Engineering Works, to take up the post secured for him by a thoughtful
friend who understood the boy's independent spirit. Wentworth had by
this time served a year at his profession, but had made few friends,
being too reserved and distant by nature to please the other
apprentices; indeed, these unthinking, though well-meaning, individuals
had grown inclined to misconstrue his quiet demeanour, until they got a
rude awakening. A few of the rowdier spirits had surrounded Armstrong
during the luncheon hour of his first day among them, and were
endeavouring to get as much fun as they could at the new-comer's
expense; and he, poor fellow, fresh from his sad bereavement, was in no
mood to appreciate their witticisms.

"Can't you let the youngster alone?" said Wentworth, approaching the
group.

They turned in amazement at his interruption; and one of them, a
thick-set, pugnacious lad, inquired contemptuously, if irrelevantly--

"Well, and what could you do, anyhow, Mr. Philosopher? I didn't think
you would care to risk a fight."

"Didn't you?" came the cool response, as the young engineer calmly
doffed his coat. "You will think differently in a few minutes."

And when he had polished off his antagonist in a scientific manner that
delighted the hearts of the beholders, even the defeated champion could
not forbear his tribute.

"You are too much for me, Wentworth," he said feelingly, when he had
recovered himself. "But I think it was mighty mean of you deceiving us
so long."

After that Wentworth and Armstrong were always together; a bond of
sympathy had sprung up between them, and before long they were sharing
the same room, and were known as David and Jonathan by their
engineering associates. Wentworth's history was none of the brightest.
His father had been a sea captain, and though ten years had elapsed
since he and his ship had gone to the bottom in the China seas, Bob's
memory easily carried him back to their last parting; and he recalled
how, childlike, he had volunteered to take care of his mother until the
captain came back--and he never came back. The widowed mother, left with
her two children--Bob, and his sister Lucy, two years younger than
himself--knowing how the roaming nature of the father had been repeated
in the son, sought a home as far away from the sea as possible, and did
her utmost on the scanty income left her to give them both the best of
education. But Bob, old beyond his years, knew more of his mother's
struggle than she guessed, and at fourteen he quietly seized an
opportunity that offered, and apprenticed himself to the well-known firm
of engineers already mentioned--and told his mother afterwards. And the
discontent which he felt with his somewhat grimy surroundings, though
hidden from his mother and sister, was often and often poured into the
ears of his companion, whose sympathy was ever ready and sincere, and
found culmination in the expression which opens this chapter.

And now that they had decided on a definite plan of action, they lost no
time in carrying it into effect. So, a few days later, having called on
their employer and explained their reasons for leaving his service, they
directed their steps towards a general shipping office in order to
procure full information concerning the vessels and routes of sailing to
Australia.

When they entered the doorway there were no intending voyagers engaging
the attention of the clerk; but while Wentworth was making inquiries,
some one entered and stood a little way behind the pair, and beguiled
his time while he waited by whistling, most horribly out of tune, that
familiar ballad, "Home, Sweet Home!"

"You can go to Australia by P. and O. or Orient Line, _via_ the Suez
Canal," the clerk reeled off glibly. "Or you may avoid the heat of the
Red Sea by travelling round the Cape in a Shaw Savill, or New Zealand
Shipping Company's boat. To what port do you wish to sail?"

"I think," said Bob, after a hurried consultation with Armstrong, "I
think the port nearest the goldfields."

"That will be Melbourne," said the spruce shipping clerk, after some
consideration. "Melbourne is the port for Ballarat."

"Go awa' and bile your held or study geography," came a gruff voice from
behind. "You're an old fossil, you are, or you would ken that the
laddies mean Western Australia. Ballarat has seen its day, but the West
is still a land o' promise."

The two boys turned abruptly, while the clerk endeavoured to cough down
his discomfiture. They saw beside them a burly middle-aged man with a
deeply bronzed face, over which the shadow of a smile was stealing. Even
at that moment, as they admitted afterwards, they both thought they had
never seen a more kindly countenance, in spite of the grim lines around
the mouth, which were only half concealed by a spiky red moustache. But
immediately the interrupter saw the elder lad's face he started back as
if shot, and a tremor seemed to run through his stalwart frame. "As like
as twa peas," he muttered hoarsely, and only Armstrong, who was close
beside him, heard the words.

"And have ye decided to go out to Australia, my lads?" he inquired
kindly, after a moment's pause. "Now, dinna get your backs up," he
reproved mildly, as Wentworth seemed about to resent his interference,
"I like you the better for your independence, but Australia's a place
that is no very weel kent even at this period o' civilization, and maist
certainly ye'll get nae reliable information from that wooden-heided
mummy--ye'll pardon the gentle inseenuation," he said, with elaborate
politeness, nodding to his victim behind the desk. "Now, I should ken
Australia better than maist men," he continued, "an' it's my weakness
that I should wish to shed my information abroad for the benefit o'
mankind in general, but mair particularly"--here he laid a hand on each
of the young men's shoulders--"would I like to assist young laddies like
yoursel's wha are aboot to venture on so long a journey."

"We are obliged to you, sir," said Wentworth, gravely and distantly. "We
certainly should like to know something of Australia."

"We would, indeed," supplemented Armstrong, impulsively holding out his
hand.

The brawny Scot returned the grip; then, addressing himself more
directly to Wentworth, said--

"I can see, my lad, that your head's screwed on the richt way, and I
admire you for it; but you're a vera bad judge o' character, I'm
thinkin', if ye canna distinguish between the spontaneous flow o' the
milk o' human kindness, and the fause remarks o' an interested
indiveedual. My name is Mackay," he concluded with dignity, "Big Mackay
they call me in Australia." He paused, and gazed searchingly at
Wentworth. "Now," he added, and strangely enough there was no trace of
the Doric in his language, "you may come and lunch with me at the
Central if you wish, and I'll tell you about Australia, and if you
prefer otherwise, why, there's no harm done."

He wheeled quickly and strode to the door, but the boys were by a common
impulse at his side before he was half a dozen yards down the street.

"I am sorry if I appeared to doubt your good intentions, Mr. Mackay,"
said Wentworth, "but we are ignorant of the bigger world which you know
so well, and kindnesses from strangers have not often come our way. But
we have heard of you, sir; why, I believe it was through reading of you
in the _Herald_ some days ago that we decided to go to Australia."

The big man laughed good-naturedly. "You were quite right, my boy," said
he, "but you may ken me better in future. It's no' so long since I was
young mysel'," he concluded with a sigh.

By this time they were entering the hotel, and the boys were much
impressed to observe the many tributes of respect which greeted their
guide. Evidently his strange personality had become well known during
his brief sojourn in the land of his fathers. Soon they were seated in
the dining-room at a table conveniently remote from the others, and
before the meal was finished Mackay was in possession of the lads' brief
histories, and had been informed of their uncontrollable longing to get
away to a new country.

"And your uncle went oot to Australia ten years ago?" he repeated
musingly, when Wentworth told him his story. "Well, well, Australia is
a big country, and it's no likely ye'll meet him there. Why canna ye
content yersel's where ye are?" he demanded brusquely.

"We can never hope for much if we remain here," argued Wentworth. "And
we should like to have a chance----"

"Just so," gravely said Mackay, "just so, my young shavers. Well, I can
tell ye this, some folk can do well in any part o' this wee planet, and
others--and they are in the majority--are never much good. Energy and
enterprise are what is wanted, and nae whining after hame----"

"I thought," interjected Armstrong, slyly, "that I heard you whistling
'Home, Sweet Home!' in the shipping office?"

Mackay beamed. "It's very kind of ye to say so," he replied. "Maist o'
my acquaintances asseverate that my whustle is like a deein' dug's
lament, an' no fit to be translated into any tune whatsoever. But, all
the same, Jack, my man, that's a tune I can only whustle when I am at
hame; it makes me think things are no' as meeserable as they seem. Why,
you young scamps, a man should be at hame anywhere. As for me I'm maist
at hame when I'm awa' from hame, which is what I call a paradoxical
statement o' fact for ye to moralize on. Many years ago," he went on, "I
sailed oot o' the Clyde as chief engineer on one o' the finest boats
that was ever launched, but when I got to Australia and fell in touch
wi' Bentley's exploring expedition, my good resolutions for a quiet
ordinar' existence squelched oot o' me like the wind frae a punctured
bicycle tyre. 'I want ye, Mac,' said Bentley, 'to cross the Never Never
wi' me.' He had another rusty-heided Scotsman in his company, an auld
friend o' mine, an' I said, 'Well, if it's only to keep that
gorilla-faced Pharisee oot o' mischief, I'll come.' An'--an' I went, an'
I've been living like an aboriginal ever since; an' now that I've come
back to look at my ain country, I feel like a pelican in the wilderness.
I came awa' to try and forget aboot things an'--an' it's no' possible."

Mackay ceased; his eyes seemed to gaze into the distance, and his
good-humoured countenance for the moment became drawn and haggard. His
eager listeners too, felt the spell of his sadness, and for some minutes
there was a sympathetic silence; then Armstrong spoke. "Will you tell us
about it, Mr. Mackay," he asked gently, and without a word of
introduction the big man began his story--

"We were three months oot on our exploring journey into Central
Australia, and had come through the usual amount o' hardships--suffering
from want o' water, occasional skirmishes wi' the <DW65>s, and other
similar trifles, and at this time the Chief was considerin' that we had
a good chance o' cuttin' through a maist promisin' lookin' tract o'
country which had never before been reached. As it was, we were further
into the heart o' Australia than any explorer had ever penetrated, and
every one o' us was fu' o' enthusiasm aboot our prospects, and dreamed
o' findin' a new Eldorado in this far back country we were enterin'
upon. But one morning, when we were east o' the 125th longitude, one of
the pack camels grew obstreperous, and broke away into the bush to the
nor'-east. We couldn't afford to lose the cantankerous animal; besides,
he carried a fair amount o' our stores on his back. To make a long story
short, I volunteered to track him up and fetch him back. 'Don't go too
far, Mac,' said Bentley to me as I was starting out, 'I'm none too sure
of this district, there may be natives about.'

"But what did I care about a wheen <DW65>s? 'Ye needna wait for me,' I
shouted back, 'I'll fetch the beastie a' richt, and cut your trail afore
you've travelled a dozen miles.'" Mackay stopped and sighed deeply.

"And what happened?" asked Wentworth and Armstrong almost with one
breath.

"Heaven only knows, my lads. I never saw any of the party again. I
tracked up Misery--that was the camel's name--but he took me a gey long
travel, and it was late at night when I started to go back, but though I
pushed hard to the south'ard until well into the next day, I couldna
pick up a sign o' a track. A camel's pad is no easily missed, and though
the ground was more broken and hilly than usual, I felt sure I couldna
have crossed their route o' march. Back I went again, examining the
ground maist carefully, then a' at once I got a sair shock. I came on a
soft patch o' sand, and every bit o' it was marked wi' natives'
footprints. I could see the marks o' their big, flat feet everywhere
round aboot, and they telt me as plainly as if I had seen the <DW65>s
themselves that they had come in from the east, and had gone back over
their ain tracks within the last half-dozen hours. I needna tell ye what
I feared then. Though I hadna had a drink o' water nor a bite to eat
since I left the camp, a' thought o' hunger or thirst left me, as I
traced the <DW65> tracks backwards to the west. They took me straight to
our old camp where Misery had broken away, and what do you think I saw
there?"

The boys shook their heads wonderingly.

"Only bones; bones, in the middle o' a lot o' ashes which were still
warm, and the smell o' burnin' was like the stench o' a <DW65>
corroboree. I turned again on their tracks. I must have been mad, for
one man could do little against a tribe that had wiped out one of the
finest expeditions that ever ventured into the Never Never Land, but I
was desperate, and I tracked the skunks like a bloodhound. My throat was
parched, my tongue was too big for my jaws, but I felt that I would gang
under wi' pleasure if I could only get my rifle sights on the brutes
first. But I couldna get even that satisfaction. Before I had gone far I
was stopped by a mountain that seemed to rise like a wall straight from
the flats. I hadn't seen it before, so I may have followed further than
I thought, or maybe the sand haze had hidden it from our view. No one
has ever believed that a mountain like it exists in that country, and
I'm the only white man that knows it to be there. I was too weak to
climb it, and after three or four tries I sat at the bottom and just
raved.

"How I returned beats me yet to understand. The water-bag on Misery's
back was empty, and our last spring charted was fifty miles to westward,
wi' five hundred miles beyond that again to a mining camp. I'm no
navigator, only a bushman, but somehow I got back, the only survivor of
the party, and I felt like a murderer comin' in alone. I was the Chief's
righthand man for ten years, my lads, and a straighter or better-hearted
leader never lived. Then there was my old comrade Stewart wi' the red
hair, wha I used to misca' so sairly; Pioneer Bill the bushman, and
young Morris the geologist--they're a' gone, and I'm the puir
unfortunate that's left.... I came home here wi' the intention o'
stoppin' if I could; but the bush draws me back and I must go."

"I am very, very sorry," said Wentworth, breaking the pause that
followed; "I can appreciate your feelings most deeply. It must be a vast
country, that Never Never Land."

"It has claimed many a victim, my boy," answered Mackay. "But Western
Australia is not all the same," he hastened to add cheerfully. "Around
Kalgoorlie and north into Pilbarra the richest gold mines in the world
have been found, and it's the thought that there's a treasure-house o'
gold and gems in the far-back land that makes explorers risk their lives
in that awful desert. It's the chance o' striking Eldorado that sends us
wanderers into such out o' way corners o' the world. But I didna ask ye
here to tell ye my experiences. If you have really made up your minds to
go to Australia, an' I honestly believe it's the best country for any
young man, I'll no' only advise you, but I'll accompany you, and I can
say this, that what I dinna know about gold mining is no' worth knowing.
I have never made a fortune at the game, but there's no denyin' that
fortunes have been made. I've taken a fancy to you, my laddies, and I'll
see that you come to no harm. If ye're short o' lucre," he continued,
"I'll advance ye anything ye need."

Even Wentworth's reserve utterly broke down after this speech.

"How can we thank you for your goodness?" he said gratefully. "I for one
shall be glad to go with you----"

"And I feel that I could follow you anywhere, Mr. Mackay," broke in
Armstrong, eagerly.

The elder man smiled grimly. "Maybe ye'll think more seriously o' these
words some day," he replied enigmatically. "Meanwhile, get awa' hame and
make your arrangements without any unnecessary delay, for we must catch
the P. and O. _Mongolia_ at London next Friday. Like enough," he
concluded, with a laugh, "we'll hae mutual cause for congratulation over
our partnership." He shook hands heartily with each of the lads, and
accompanying them downstairs, watched them disappear into the street.

"Poor young fellows," he said musingly, as he turned away, "I was just
the same mysel' at that age, discontented, ambitious.... But the
likeness canna be doubted. Ah, well, I've just done what the Chief
himsel' would have done had he been here."

"Well, Jack, what do you think of him?" asked Wentworth, as he and his
companion walked homewards.

"I think he is the kindest-hearted man I have ever met," was Armstrong's
enthusiastic response.

"I like him, too," admitted Wentworth, "and I expect to like him more
when I know him better. What a strong man he must be; why, his chest
measurement must be nearly fifty!"

"Only a strong man could have endured what he has suffered, Bob," said
Armstrong, "and," with boyish delight, "he must be a real beauty in a
scrimmage. His wrists seemed like bars of steel."

"He just bears out my opinion," spoke Wentworth, thoughtfully, "that
travel broadens the mind more than is generally allowed, and destroys
all trace of parochialism in a man's nature. I don't think, for
instance," he declared, "that that man would care two straws whether we
were Scotch, English, or Irish; it's humanity that counts with him----"

"Please don't wander me with philosophical reasoning just now, Bob,"
pleaded Armstrong. "All I can say is, that I liked the man immediately I
saw him, and I think we were very lucky in meeting him."

Never for a moment did these two think of drawing back from the
projected journey. It was characteristic of them to accept their first
decision as final, and the nearness of the day for sailing, as fixed by
Mackay, in no wise appalled them. Neither of them was given to noisy
exuberance.

"Environment has done it, Jack," said Wentworth, sagely. "You see we
have been so much together, and have had so little time for amusement;
then my temperament was always a bit studious, and, consequently, you
have suffered----"

"Don't, Bob," interjected Armstrong; "you talk like an old man, and you
are not nineteen yet. When we get under the sunny skies of Australia,
we'll view things differently, and, who knows, we may come back with a
fortune in a year or two."

"Who knows, indeed?" repeated Wentworth, absently gripping the boy's
arm, and in this way they proceeded until they arrived at their little
room on the top flat of No. 590, Great Southern Road.

That evening they broke the news of their early departure to their
amiable landlady, Mrs. Campbell, much to that worthy woman's dismay.

"Eh, but, laddies, ye canna mean it!" she exclaimed. "Ye would gang to
that awfu' country whaur the black bodies live----"

"But they are not all black, Mrs. Campbell," said Wentworth, soothingly.
"In fact, the aborigines are becoming an extinct race."

"I dinna care what sort o' race they are becoming," moaned she,
beginning to apply her apron to her eyes. "An' forbye, what dae ye want
to gang oot there for? Ye baith are daein' sae weel in the engineerin'
office, and in time ye micht be managers."

"That's a period too far distant for us to calculate on, Mrs. Campbell,"
said Armstrong, cheerily, though he was much distressed by the good
woman's genuine emotion. "And our ambitions are giving us a shove
along----"

"Ambitions, ambitions," wailed poor Mrs. Campbell. "And what should ye
want wi' ambitions, at your age? They are nae guid to ye; in fact it's
doonricht wrang for ye to hae them; they've never brocht happiness to
ony man yet!" And she rushed from the room much affected.

"She's a real good sort," said Wentworth, "but very unreasonable," with
which mature reflection he reached down a copy of "Raper's Navigation"
from a shelf, and began to read assiduously, while Armstrong, with a
whistle of relief, started to overhaul his wardrobe in preparation for
their ocean trip.

The following day was a very busy one for the boys. After packing their
most necessary belongings, they called on Mr. Mackay to receive his
advice as to the outfit required. That gentleman met them, genial as
ever.

"Ocean travel is no the same as it used to be," said he; "an' a' you'll
need is twa or three light suits for the tropics. It's no' as if you
were to be months at sea," he explained, "an' you may leave your West
Australian wardrobe to take care o' itself--it will no be much o' a
consideration."

But he was not satisfied, nevertheless, until he went round the shops
with them, and saw them fitted out with all that was needful.

"And now, my lad," he said, when they had finished, addressing himself
to Wentworth, "if you'll tak' my advice, you'll gang hame and break the
news as gently as ye can to your mother, for I can see ye havena telt
her o' yer new plans yet. I'm a great believer in young fellows
shouldering their ain responsibilities as early as possible, but ye can
never get a truer friend than yer mother, an' I hope ye'll no forget
that. I'm a rough hand at preaching, being mair used wi' other sort o'
language, and, and----" Here Mackay's usually eloquent verbiage failed
him, and he floundered hopelessly. "Be back in good time to leave wi' me
for London on Thursday morning," he finished, recovering himself
quickly, and they turned to go. But Mackay suddenly seemed to remember
something, and he called them back.

"I was thinkin' o' buyin' you some books to read on the ship," said he,
"and I was wondering how your tastes might lie. I don't mean novels," he
hastened to add, "but books that might serve as a study."

"We'll leave the choice to you, Mr. Mackay," said Wentworth, with a
smile; and again they departed, yet once more they were called back.
Mackay was evidently ill at ease, for he hesitated in his speech, and,
if possible, his bronzed cheeks became a shade deeper in colour.

"I've arranged aboot the tickets," he said at length; "so you'll hae no
need to trouble in that direction."

Without waiting for a reply he wheeled suddenly, and strode down the
street, leaving the boys rooted to the spot wholly overcome by the
generous speech.

"He must have guessed our one great difficulty," said Wentworth,
flushing deeply. "Well, Jack, our obligations to Mr. Mackay will take
some wiping out."

Later on in the evening, when the boys were talking over the events of
the day in their little room, the landlady entered with a heavy parcel
of books.

"A messenger has just brocht these," said she, "wi' Mr. Mackay's
compliments."

"He is a gem," spoke Jack, emphatically, as he cut the string of the
package, whereupon half a dozen handsome volumes were disclosed, three
for Bob, and three for himself. They seized their possessions with
avidity.

"'Leckie's Navigation,' 'Nautical Almanac,' and 'Burns's Poems,'"
announced Wentworth, gleefully, gazing at his treasures. "Now, how could
he have known that I wanted these so much?"

"'Mining Engineer's Handbook,' 'Metallurgy of Gold,' and 'Shakespeare,'"
read out Jack, handling the volumes reverently. "Now, how could he have
guessed our pet studies?"

"It beats me," said Bob. "I won't be surprised at anything Mackay knows
after this. He is a conundrum."

"He is the decentest sort we have ever met," cried Jack, warmly.

"We agree on that," concurred Bob, gravely.




CHAPTER II

Outward Bound


The few days preceding the sailing of the _Mongolia_ passed very
quickly; Wentworth, accompanied by Armstrong, spent most of the time at
Mrs. Wentworth's home in Lincolnshire. Strangely enough, Bob's mother
did not, in any way, try to dissuade them from their journey.

"You have the roving instinct of your father, Robert," she said, with
pensive calmness. "I have expected this, and can only pray that you may
be kept safe in the guiding care of the All Wise Providence which
watches over the wanderer on land as on sea."

But his sister had not the same restraint, and it made Armstrong's
tender heart sore to witness the grief of the girl.

"You may be killed--you may both be killed," she sobbed.

"There is no fear of that, Lucy," laughed Bob.

"I'll take care of him, Miss Lucy," said Jack, hesitatingly, almost
equally affected.

"Why, you are just a boy," she exclaimed, smiling at him through her
tears.

"I'm only a year younger than Bob," he protested stoutly, drawing
himself up to his full height of five feet seven and a half inches, and
looking at her reproachfully; at which, to Jack's dismay, she gave way
again to her emotion, her beautiful brown hair falling over her face
like a glorious mantle.

"It's for you, too," she murmured brokenly. "Oh, Jack, you are Bob's
chum, and I shall miss you too." Whereupon the usually light-hearted boy
seemed to become a man at once.

"I have no other friends," he said quietly; then he stammered, "I did
not think any one could miss me," he concluded, with just a trace of
pathos in his voice. And at that moment his friendship for Bob seemed to
be riveted afresh, so keenly did the kindly word of sympathy from the
girl appeal to his generous nature.

Prompt to the advertised hour, the P. and O. _Mongolia_ cast off her
moorings and steamed out of Tilbury Docks, and on the upper deck of the
splendid vessel, among the assembled crowd of passengers, stood Mackay
and the two youthful adventurers. They had arrived in London the night
before, and had spent a very pleasant evening listening to a classic
concert in the Queen's Hall which Mackay had insisted on them hearing.
Bob thought their patron and friend was once more sacrificing himself to
what he imagined was their particular taste; but, to his surprise, that
worthy individual had taken a strong interest in the entire programme,
and especially applauded the young soprano who sang so magnificently a
very difficult Italian aria.

"It's no because I'm a singer mysel'," he explained apologetically, "and
I dinna understan' a word o' the song, but I'm a wonderfu' lover o' guid
music all the same. I think it's sort o' soothing to my mental
faculties."

Jack grinned and looked incredulous, but at that moment the young lady
reappeared in answer to the vociferous demand for an encore, and soon
the haunting strains of "Home, Sweet Home!" filled the vast hall. Again
the doubting youngster looked at his stalwart neighbour, and lo! the
eyes of the ex-bushman were wet.

Now all three watched the receding shores of England with somewhat sad
eyes, and when at last night had fallen, and the vessel was cautiously
feeling her way towards the Bay of Biscay through a murky fog, they
descended to their cabin and began to arrange their baggage and make
preparations for dinner. The next three days were uneventful, though
Jack insisted that his sufferings in the dreaded Bay were severe enough
to warrant mention in the ship's log. He only of the trio was affected
by the rolling and pitching of the ship, though he had goodly company
among the rest of the passengers. As for Bob and Mackay, they walked the
deck through it all. But even sea-sickness comes to an end, and before
the _Mongolia_ reached Gibraltar Jack was feeling himself again, and his
boisterous spirits did much to infuse a sympathetic cheerfulness among
the rest of the passengers, whose reserve was beginning to break away as
they entered the sunny waters of the blue Mediterranean. Bob had found
endless interest in watching the various headlands sighted on the
Portuguese and Spanish coasts, and when the frowning Rock of Gibraltar
was in sight, his eagerness became intense. To him history became almost
a living thing when he gazed at the grim monuments of a glorious past.
And Mackay was ever near to instruct and to interest by the narration
of more or less personal experiences of his own in the various ports
visited. Indeed, Mackay's knowledge was little short of marvellous, and
the boys saw many phases of his character during their first week at
sea. The general passengers too soon became interesting to them. The
_Mongolia_ had on board a very representative community. Some were going
to India, not a few to China and Japan, while the remainder comprised
principally Australians from the different states of the Commonwealth
returning home after a visit to the Old Country. Before Aden had been
reached, owing to the genial influence of the captain, a feeling of good
fellowship pervaded the ship, and the entire company became as one huge
family. Deck sports were a daily occurrence, and concerts and dances
took place every other evening. The sea was calm as glass, flying fish
rose in scattering clouds from the surging wavelets created by the
ship's bows, and porpoises played merrily around the vessel as it dashed
on its unerring course. But on the upper deck the double awning scarcely
obscured the penetrating rays of the scorching sun, and the close
sweltering heat in the cabins below was almost unbearable. At Aden all
the India bound passengers disembarked and changed into an awaiting
vessel which connected with Bombay, and the time allowed before the
_Mongolia_ resumed her course was amply sufficient to permit of Mackay
and his _protégés_ going ashore.

There is not much to attract at this port. It is simply a military
barracks and coaling-station, with an enormous importance, of course, as
a British naval base. Mackay explained this at length to Jack, who was
always eager for information.

"It's the key o' the Red Sea," he announced, "just in the same degree
as Gib. is the key o' the Mediterranean."

"But the Red Sea is not of very much interest to Britain, is it?" said
Bob, questioningly.

"Maybe no, though I canna allow that any part o' His Majesty's ocean is
without its due importance; but, ye see, Aden protects India by watching
the ships that come through the Red Sea, and forby there's no vessel o'
war belonging to another nation could steam past withoot comin' in for
coal----" This in a burst of patriotic fervour. "Why, when the German
Emperor's brother went oot to China, a year or so back, in his big
gunboat, he touched at nothing but British ports all the way." Mackay
chuckled with amusement at the recollection. "There used to be a tree
growing at Aden," he said again, when they recovered themselves, "but
some one that doesn't believe in oddities has evidently cut it down."

Nothing but sand and bare rocks could be seen all around, so his surmise
was probably quite accurate.

"Aren't there some huge tanks near here?" asked Bob. "I heard that they
were the only sight worth seeing in Aden."

"You're quite richt; they're no exactly in Aden, being about five miles
back in the hills. But we have just time to visit them."

He called a waiting garry at once, and directing the Somali driver, they
set out to view the giant reservoirs which date their origin away back
in the mists of antiquity. Bob and Jack looked very different
individuals from what they were a few weeks before. Dressed in whites,
and wearing sun-helmets, they seemed already to be quite accustomed to
the heat; the old tired look had vanished from their faces, and the
light of awakening interest was in their eyes. As for Mackay, under his
big, umbrella-shaped head-covering, the same kindly face was visible,
perhaps a little redder than it was before, but, as he said himself, it
was regaining its natural tan.

"I believe in harmony o' colour," he gravely said, "and there should be
nae contrast between my moustache and its surrounding beauties."

When they reached the tanks, which in appearance were as huge caverns
graven out of the solid rock, the engineering training of the boys was
at once evident by their remarks.

"What a mighty work it must have been," mused Bob.

"King Solomon's Tanks," announced Mackay, taking upon himself the onus
of dispensing knowledge, "were built, or rather excavated, about three
thousand years ago. You will observe that they are so situated as to
catch the natural drainage o' the surrounding country, and when rain
fell, which was seldom, the tanks got filled, and--and when it didna
fall--of course, they remained empty!"

"Of course," agreed they both, promptly.

Mackay looked pained.

"Ye shouldna concur wi' my statements so sudden like," said he. Then he
endeavoured to get on to the rails again. "They got silted up wi' the
sand after long disuse," he continued, "and they were only discovered
and re-excavated some years back; but they are of service to show what
an old civilization could do, and to prove that the climate was
different then, for now ye could hardly droon a mosquito in a' the water
they collect." He ceased, then murmured blandly, "This country is too
hot for me to wax eloquent wi' ony modicum o' pleasure, or I wad go into
geo-logical details concerning it."

"Is there anything you don't know, Mr. Mackay?" inquired Bob, with a
smile.

"No' a thing. I'm a walkin' Encyclopædia--just burstin' wi' knowledge.
No, I'm wrang; there's ane or twa metapheesical matters that beat me.
I'll own to that frankly."

Then they returned to the ship, and amused themselves watching the dusky
patriarchal vendors of ostrich feathers who had come on board,
endeavouring to sell their wares. It particularly interested them to
notice how cheerfully these dealers accepted finally less than a half of
their first demands. The Somali diving boys with the strange yellow hair
and the glistening teeth also attracted their attention. These
youngsters, some of them maimed in horrible fashion, appealed to the
sympathy of the passengers by singing in raucous chorus an aged and once
popular London song. The authorities by this time had forbidden their
wonted occupation owing to the multitudes of sharks infesting the
exposed harbour. Early in the evening the _Mongolia_ once more got under
way, and, with her reduced passenger-list, headed for Colombo, the port
of the spicy Isle of Ceylon.

Among the passengers bound for Australia was a middle-aged, wiry-looking
personage named Carew, whose deeply browned face bore the unmistakable
evidence of long years' sojourn in the tropics. Mackay had recognized
him on the day of embarkation, but had studiously avoided him ever
since.

"He's a famous New Guinea explorer," he informed Bob and Jack, "but he's
a terrible talker, and I'm no vera willin' to be afflicted wi' his
remarks."

Several times, nevertheless, the boys noticed that Carew always gazed
doubtfully at Mackay when they chanced to meet on deck, and on each
occasion that individual would reply with a stare of studied
nonchalance. However, after leaving Aden, the passengers were so much
reduced that they were all thrown into daily contact with each other,
and occasionally Mackay found himself on the same side as Carew in the
course of a cricket-match. But it was after they had left the Island of
Socotra two days astern that any definite conversation passed between
them. A match had just been concluded between the "Weary Wayfarers" and
"The New Chums," two delightfully named opposing teams made up from the
greatest travellers on board and the more or less untravelled community,
and the "Weary Wayfarers" had been summarily defeated. Bob and Jack were
shining lights at such contests, and Bob's bowling had on this occasion
been mainly responsible for the downfall of the Wayfarers, while Jack on
his part had made the top score of his side. Carew and Mackay were
making a straight course for the smoke-room when the former gentleman
broke out abruptly--

"I've been trying a long time to remember, Mackay, where I met you
before, and now I've got it. There couldn't be another phiz like yours
in the whole of this wretched planet."

"I ken my personal adornments are a rare gift," placidly returned the
Scot, "and, to return the compliment, I may say I've never been
surprised at your many marvellous escapes from the New Guinean
cannibals."

"And why so?" queried Carew, much pleased.

"Because a sicht o' your figure-head would destroy any <DW65>'s
appetite, an'----"

"I give you best, Mackay; I give you best," hastily interposed the
other. "But weren't you with Bentley's Expedition in New Guinea four
years ago? Oh, I'm sure of you now. Where did you leave Bentley?"

By this time they were snugly ensconced in a corner of the smoke-room.
Mackay solemnly rang the bell.

"He went under on the last expedition in the West," he said grimly, when
the steward had attended to their requests,--"I was the only one that
escaped."

Carew gave a cry of genuine pain. "Poor Bentley," he muttered brokenly,
"another one gone in that accursed country, and I never knew. We
pioneers don't get much of an obituary notice, Mackay."

Mackay silently agreed. "Don't speak about it before these youngsters of
mine," he said. "They're going out to the West with me, and I don't want
them to be discouraged."

He rose to go, but just then Bob appeared. "There's a small island on
the port bow, Mackay," he announced. "Can you tell me anything about it?
I can't find it on the chart."

"It's the coral isle called Minacoy," volunteered Carew, looking out.
"It's the most southerly atoll of the Laccadive group of islands, and
when the sea is rough it is almost invisible."

They all went out to have a look. The _Mongolia_ passed quite close to
the coral beach, and though the sea was calm the roar of the surge
beating on the shallows was plainly heard. A tall lighthouse with a
background of palms was observable, and a solitary watcher came out
while they gazed and waved a friendly greeting.

"What a lonely life the lighthouse keeper's must be!" said Jack, and he
expressed the sentiments of all.

The next day the _Mongolia_ arrived at Colombo, and here the boys saw
much to interest them. The spacious harbour with its huge artificial
breakwater was in itself a great attraction, and they watched the clouds
of spray that dashed full fifty feet into the air all along the guarding
barrier with keen delight. But on shore the rickshaw rides surpassed all
other forms of amusement. They visited the far-famed Cinnamon gardens in
these strange vehicles, they tried races along the Galle Face road, and
lastly rickshawed with Mackay to Mount Lavinia some five miles distant
from the town. The Cingalese gem merchants who swarmed everywhere were a
source of wonder to them. They marvelled how so many seemingly needy
individuals possessed such stores of rubies, diamonds, sapphires, and
pearls, and which, according to their demands, were worth a prince's
ransom. Mackay only laughed when Jack mentioned his surprise at their
apparent affluence.

"You want to develop your powers o' observation, my laddie," said he,
enigmatically; and Jack, not quite understanding the rebuke, was in no
wise edified. Bob, too, was rather impressed by the courtesy of the same
fraternity.

"Master," an odd-looking personage in flowing garb and with plaited hair
would say, "Master, you buy goodie ruby from me?" and at once a string
of somewhat similarly attired merchants would gather round and watch the
expected process of bargaining silently. But they were not quite as
innocent and free from guile as they looked.

"What do you think of this, Bob?" cried Jack, holding up a huge crystal,
which a smiling Cingalee with a strange little basket for a cap had
proffered him for sale. They were sitting under the revolving fans in
the Hotel Bristol, watching the gay panorama of colour that constantly
flitted before them. Mackay had left them to their own devices for an
hour or so, and they were now awaiting his return.

Bob examined the gaudy crystal with pretended keenness.

"No good; it's only glass," he said shortly, never dreaming that his
idle statement was correct.

"No glass! no glass!" earnestly asserted the Cingalee. "White sapphire,
goodie stone. You try," he added, as a final proof of his honesty; "you
tramp so." He placed the stone under his slippered foot, and pressed
ever so lightly. "You try," he implored, handing the stone to Bob, whom
he now regarded as the one obstacle to the sale of his treasure. "If
glass it break."

"The poor beggar seems honest," said Jack, feeling quite sorry for the
man. "How much?" he asked.

"Five pounds, master."

"I don't want the stone," said Jack, "and anyhow I haven't got five
pounds in my pocket. I'll give you one pound for it," he concluded
jokingly. Before he had fully realized it the gem was his, and the late
owner was exhorting him to secrecy concerning the sacrificial price it
had commanded. "Other men no like me selling so cheap," he explained,
then vanished hurriedly as Mackay entered.

"And so you've bought a sapphire," he said with a chuckle, when Jack
proudly displayed his purchase. "How much did ye gie for it? Sixpence?"

"Isn't it genuine?" asked Bob. "I said it was glass; but he asked me to
stamp on it."

"Ay, ay, that's an old trick; he chanced ye no' takin' him at his
word." He placed the doubtful stone beneath the toe of his shoe, and in
an instant nothing remained but powdered glass. Jack's dismay was great,
and noting it, Mackay patted the boy cheerily on the back. "It's a grand
thing to have faith in human nature," he said kindly. "And I'd rather
see you mak' a mistake that way than the other way. A' the same when you
go oot into the world it's surprising how much deceit you see."

After a stay of a day and a half the _Mongolia_ entered upon the longest
phase of her journey across the equator and down by the north-western
coast of Australia to Fremantle. Several more passengers had been left
at Colombo including those bound for the farther East, who continued
their journey by connecting boat, so that the ship's party was now very
small indeed. To the boys' surprise the heat experienced when crossing
the line was nothing compared with that already felt in the Red Sea; but
Mackay was not wanting with his explanation.

"The desert sands on both sides o' the Red Sea absorb the heat and
intensify it," explained he, "so that the winds that blow from either
east or west are like blasts oot o' a furnace, while here the winds are
tempered by passing over hundreds o' miles o' sea."

"In any case," added Carew, who was standing near, "there are no sandy
stretches in this part of the world, and the prevailing breezes blow in
from the sweet-scented islands of Java and New Guinea."

"I was o' the opinion," began Mackay, after some thought, severely
eyeing the last speaker, "that this information bureau was my funeral. I
was aboot to send oot twa or three chunks o' knowledge when you
interrupted, and noo my inspiration's vanished."

Carew laughed good-naturedly. "Never mind, Mackay," said he; "I will
relieve you for a bit, and entertain Wentworth and Armstrong by spinning
them a true yarn. Get your deck-chairs all, and prepare for something
thrilling."

By the time Carew was ready to start nearly every passenger on board was
clustered round him in eager expectation.

"Two years ago," he began, in reminiscent tones, "I was camped on a
tributary of the Fly River in New Guinea, which was a most unhealthy
district to camp in, owing to the fact that two rival cannibal tribes
had their quarters close handy. However, I wanted to prospect for gold
and gems in the surrounding country, and so decided to take all risks.
But in order to minimize these risks as much as possible, I paid a visit
to the chief or Mamoose of what I imagined to be the more powerful of
the two tribes, and presented him with the only article in my camp I had
no use for--an alarm clock. The old boy was quite delighted with it, and
promptly insisted on wearing it hung from a chain around his neck; not
only that, but when I showed him how to wind it up and ring the alarm,
he immediately informed his warriors that it was a charm which would
ensure success in all battles. Indeed, he wanted to start right then and
march against the Tugeris, his warlike neighbours, but while I was
arguing the point with him--I didn't want any circus in the vicinity at
that time--the 'Che-ep! Che-ep!' of these wretched Tugeris sounded
through the trees. They had evidently anticipated attack at this period
and so were taking time by the forelock. On they came, shouting that
peculiar battle-cry of theirs which gets on one's nerves so quickly. The
old Mamoose, with the clock anchored firmly round his neck, sailed in to
meet them at the head of his warriors, and I made lightning tracks in
the opposite direction. All next day I waited down the river with my
canoe in readiness. If the clock Mamoose won, I was safe as a house; if
he didn't I was as good as cold meat if I didn't get out lively. I was
getting mighty nervous, and couldn't quite see how I was to know which
side won, when, all of a sudden, a huge crocodile hove out of the water
close beside me, and at that instant the noise of an alarm clock going
off sounded out of his gaping mouth like a piano prelude through a
gramophone trumpet. That fixed it, gentlemen. I won't go into my
theories as to how the clock got there. They were strong enough for me,
and I scooted, and a good job too, for when I was at Port Moresby some
weeks later I was told that the Tugeris had fairly swept the country."

"Ye certainly had a maist providential warning," spoke Mackay, dryly,
breaking the dubious silence that followed.

"Come on, Mackay," said Carew, leading the way to the smoke-room.

"Right you are," retorted the other; and they departed arm in arm, much
to the amusement of the assembly.

Three days later they sighted the Cocos group of islands on the horizon,
and in a very short time were passing quite close to the largest of
them. Nothing but a forest of palms could be seen at first, then a
slight indentation on the coast line revealed a schooner and several
smaller craft lying at anchor in front of a row of native dwellings.

"The first king of these islands," Mackay informed the lads, "was a
Glasgow Scotsman. Old King Ross did a wonderful amount o' pioneering
work in these seas, and hoisted the British flag here without the
assistance of a gunboat. He was a strange man, and knew well how to
handle the natives."

"But what do they do?" asked Jack.

"They grow cocoanuts and make copra, my lad; they find a good market for
it in Colombo and Singapore."

"Are all the islands in this part of the Indian Ocean of coral
formation?" asked Bob, looking at the white low-lying shores with
interest.

"Oh no," laughed Mackay, "there's Christmas Island, for instance, about
five hundred odd miles east of these, and it is nothing short of a
mountain, and its shores go down into the water almost as steep as the
side of a house----"

"I say, Mackay," interrupted Carew, petulantly, "how do you know
anything about Christmas Island? It's the most ungetatable place on the
face of the earth, and I've heard that very few white men have ever been
there."

"I'm one of the few," imperturbably answered Mackay. "I sailed there
from North Australia in a pearling lugger," he condescended to explain.

"And do they grow copra there too?" inquired an interested bystander.

"Oh no; it's a guano island and belongs to the Christmas Island
syndicate. A very fine paying concern it is too, though the island is
not more than twenty miles or so in circumference."

"I didn't think guano islands were much good to any one," hazarded Bob.

"Didn't you? Well, that's no' surprisin', seein' that we don't hear
much about them; but I know a man who has a steam yacht, and he keeps
constantly explorin' the ocean for guano islands. It's a good payin'
business right enough, though I wouldna care much aboot diggin'
phosphates mysel', gold bein' more my attraction."

To the boys the idea of unknown islands in these latitudes was
distinctly pleasing. The world to them was taking on a less crowded
aspect. The smiling sea still held her unknown Crusoe islands. The
romance had not all gone from the earth. The days were passing very
quickly now, soon Fremantle would be reached, and then--who knew what
good fortune might speedily be theirs? Bob and Jack looked into the
future with unhesitating eyes. Theirs had been no boyish whim, and as
they neared Australia's coast their pulses quickened, the sense of
freedom was in their blood, the spirit of conquest surged through their
hearts; and Mackay, noting their steady courage, felt strangely cheered.
On the evening before the _Mongolia_ was expected to reach Fremantle a
concert was held in the saloon, in order to bring together for the last
time the entire assembly, for quite a number were disembarking at
Fremantle; and Bob and Jack were singled out for special adulation by
the chairman--none other than Mr. Carew--who warmly wished them Godspeed
in the new country they were entering upon.

"They, like us all," he said in his laudatory address, "seek their
Eldorado. To them it is something real, tangible; to us who have chased
the elusive phantom it has somewhat lost its zest. But youth and courage
shall conquer where the weary wanderer must fail, and I fully expect our
boys to attain their ambition by sheer manly grit before they have time
to grow weary of the pioneer's life. They are especially fortunate," he
continued, looking towards Mackay, "in having the guiding care of an old
and experienced traveller--one whose deeds always speak louder than his
words, but whose speech when occasion demands is forcible and
conclusive. Only an explorer can fully appreciate a brother explorer's
work; I take off my hat to you, Mackay----" his hat was already off, but
that didn't matter--"and when we meet again, I trust it may be in some
cheerful spot in this little planet and not in the wilds of an unknown
land."




CHAPTER III

Golden Flat


The small settlement of Golden Flat was situated away out on the
desert's fringe beyond Kalgoorlie, and beyond the reach of any
civilizing railway. It was essentially a pioneer's field, for no deep
lodes had yet been discovered; indeed, at this time the history of
Golden Flat was but a few days old. Nuggety Dick, a roving prospector
and miner, had been lucky enough to find rich specimens of the coveted
metal on the surface of the flat during one of his perambulating
journeys through the silent bush, and instead of wildly rushing back to
Kalgoorlie to proclaim his "strike," he had quietly taken a note of the
place and gone his way to inform his old associates, who were toiling
with but little success on a worked-out alluvial patch near Coolgardie.

Such is the spirit of the bush; comradeship comes before all, and
happy-go-lucky Dick had never once thought of applying for the standing
reward which a shrewd Government had promised for discoveries of gold in
such remote districts. Had he claimed it, a rush would have been the
immediate consequence, and the chances of Dick's companions securing a
favourable claim would have been reduced to a minimum; so he set out on
his high-backed camel and rounded up the "boys," as he affectionately
called them, and steered them back to the ironshot plain among the mulga
scrub, which he had euphoniously, if ambitiously, termed "Golden Flat."
And now, within a week after their arrival, the Flat presented every
appearance of industrious energy. Further nuggets had been found all
along the line of a scarcely perceptible depression in the land surface,
which, nevertheless, most evidently marked the course of a very ancient
waterway, long since silted up.

"It'll be an alluvial wash, boys," remarked Dick, with happy
satisfaction.

"It certainly looks mighty promising," agreed a lanky and lean
individual, who rejoiced in the cognomen of the Shadow. The Shadow, so
called because of his rather fine outline, was the youngest of the
party; indeed, he was little more than a boy in years, yet his
reputation as a skilled bushman and rough rider was great, and the
strength concealed in his spare figure was marvellous.

"I say, mates," broke out another typical bushman, Never Never Dave by
name, popping his head out of a shaft near by, "I do believe I've struck
the stuff on the ten-foot level."

He clambered out of his excavation and approached the party, who were at
this moment assembled for the purpose of preparing lunch, displaying in
his hand a white sugary-looking substance which he had evidently broken
from the supposed wash. The Shadow gave a whoop of delight, but was
immediately checked by an old miner beside him, whose keen eyes and
heavily furrowed face bespoke the hardy pioneer.

"Don't yell out so soon, young 'un," he reproved sternly. "Gold is a
most deceitful phantom, and it's when you're sartin you've got it, that
it ain't there."

"Eight O!" sang out the irrepressible one, rushing to get a pan of water
from the soak near by. "Eight O, Dead Broke."

"When he reappeared he found them all examining the sample wash with
critical interest; and as it was handed round for inspection, not a word
was spoken; not a trace of joy or emotion showed in the rugged features
of the men who depended so much on the result, and even the Shadow, when
he handled the specimen, felt constrained to copy the tactics of his
neighbours. The conglomerate stone was literally studded with gold; it
required neither the pan test nor the magnifying glass to prove that.

"It's too good to last, boys," commented Nuggety Dick, with a sigh.

That broke the spell.

"I've never seen anything like it," grunted Dead Broke Dan, blinking
furiously.

"Hoorah for Golden Flat!" broke out the Shadow, tossing his tattered hat
into the air. "Hip, hip, hip, hoorah!"

And, taking his lead, the silent group of a few minutes before broke
into a lusty cheer that echoed and re-echoed over the plains. But it had
scarcely died away when Emu Bill, a somewhat silent member of the party,
astonished his associates by giving vent to a groan of deep disgust.

"Look what's coming, boys," said he, nodding his head toward the west.
"Hang me if it isn't the beginning of a regular rush!"

[Illustration: "LOOK WHAT'S COMING, BOYS!"]

All looked in the direction indicated, and sure enough there appeared
to be ample reason for annoyance. Cresting a slight eminence surrounding
the Flat, three figures hove into sight, pacing slowly alongside a
heavily laden camel, and that they were coming to Golden Flat camp there
could be no room for doubt.

"After me bein' so careful, too," complained Dick, sorrowfully. "Now I
suppose we'll have all Kalgoorlie sprinting up before sundown."

"Look to your boundary-pegs, mates," warned Dead Broke Dan, "an' stick
up your miners' rights on the corner posts. They may be bush-lawyers for
all we know."

In an instant the camp awoke to action, axes and spades were seized,
measuring tapes were run along the boundary lines of their holdings, new
pegs were driven into position, and miners' rights flaunted in the
sunshine, marking a fluttering course of six hundred yards along the
auriferous bed. In the midst of the confusion the three travellers
arrived, and one of them, a strongly built individual, whose entire
wardrobe consisted only of an open-necked shirt, and nether garments
held in position by a well-filled cartridge belt, leaving his companions
by the camel, stepped forward.

"Hullo, boys," he grunted affably, addressing every one in general who
was disposed to hear. "I said 'Hallo,'" he repeated sternly, after a
moment's pause.

The rebuke was too much for Emu Bill, who had been calmly and leisurely
engaged cutting his initials in his corner boundary-peg. He came forward
quickly.

"Hallo, mate," he said, eyeing the new-comer keenly. "Mebbe ye'll
excoose the boys for attendin' to Government regulations afore rushin'
to say how mighty glad they are to see ye----"

"Ye insignificant son o' a gun," came the prompt interruption, "if ye
dinna modify your insinuations, I'll--I'll, swipe the head off ye, an'
it would hurt me sair to destroy ane o' my old comrades in cauld blood."

Bill, at the dire threat against his person, had languidly begun to
prepare for mortal combat, but on hearing the last part of the
aggressive speech, he gazed at the stranger in incredulous amazement.

"By the Great Howling Billy it's Mackay!" he yelled, seizing his
erstwhile enemy's hand and shaking it vigorously. "I thought you had
gone home to the old country, you tough old rooster."

"I did have a trip home," said Mackay, for it was he, smiling grimly.
"But I discovered that civilization didna agree wi' me, so I came back."

By this time the rest of the miners had hastened up, and Emu Bill
addressed them excitedly.

"Boys, it's Mackay!" he cried.

Nuggety Dick and his satellites hesitated a moment, then rushed forward
with outstretched hands.

"What have you done with your whiskers, Mac?" they cried almost in
unison.

"That's it," roared Emu Bill, looking questioningly into the now welcome
visitor's face, "and it nearly caused a funeral. Hang it all, why didn't
ye say who ye was? We thought you was the beginning of a rush, we did.
Fetch your mates along and let us have lunch at once. After that you may
stake out where you like."

"Beggin' your pardon, Emu," broke in Nuggety Dick, "I has a
double-barrelled-nineteen-carat-pleasant dooty to perform." He turned
to Mackay, and with grave dignity proceeded. "As discoverer o' this here
Golden Flat, an' representin' the interests o' every scarecrow present,
I say we welcome you and your mates wi' tearful emotion. Am I right,
boys?" he demanded confidently, looking at his companions.

"Hoo-rah!" came the unanimous response.

Mackay smiled just a trifle strangely, and beckoned to Bob and Jack, who
had been watching the trend of events with somewhat anxious eyes.

It would have been hard to recognize in the two who now came forward the
same young men who had inveighed so strongly against their restricted
lot in the Old Country. Dressed in the negligent attire of the bush,
with broad brimmed hats shading their eyes from the scorching sun, they
looked like young Colonials fresh and fit for any effort that might be
required of them. Their journey from the coast to Kalgoorlie had
interested them exceedingly; the wide tracts of lonely bush land which
stretched to north and south of the single line, gave them an impression
of boundless scope which was dear to their hearts. Here surely was a
country where no man need jostle his neighbour. Coming as they did from
a tightly packed centre of commerce, it was little wonder that a sense
of freedom entered their beings. And when they arrived at the strange
hustling gold-mining city of the plains, their enthusiasm was great.
Mackay had been wonderfully reticent as to his immediate plans. "Even
here nothing stands still," said he, "and there may have been new gold
discoveries since I left." But his inquiries in Kalgoorlie seemed to
please him greatly. "It's all right, my lads," he announced to them with
great good humour when he returned to the Exchange Hotel where they
were staying pending his investigations.

"The fact is," he whispered mysteriously, drawing the boys aside, "I
found gold on one o' our last expeditions before we tackled the Never
Never, a good bit to the east o' this, and though we never said a word
aboot it to any one when we got back, I was afraid some sandgroping
fossicker had bumped across the place while I was awa'. Hooever, I've
made judicious inquiry, and find there's been nary a rush in that
direction, so we'll outfit at once and get a move on. I've been lucky
enough to buy back my old camel, Misery, for the journey."

So they arrived at Golden Flat, Mackay never once hesitating in his
course, though there were no landmarks to guide. The bushman's instinct
was strong, unerringly it lead them to their goal; and now that they had
reached the scene they had been picturing in their minds, the unexpected
meeting with earlier arrivals disconcerted them not a little. They
advanced at Mackay's call somewhat sharply; they had not quite
understood the wordy discourses of the miners, and they were
aggressively prepared to stand by their friend should occasion arise.

"Boys," said Mackay, addressing the odd assembly, "allow me to introduce
two young friends of mine from old England--Robert Wentworth and Jack
Armstrong, Bob and Jack for short--they've come out here to make their
fortune, and by the Lord Harry! they'll do it or I'm a Dutchman."

With honest welcome beaming in their eyes, the rugged miners advanced
one by one to greet their visitors, but Nuggety Dick must needs call
them to order.

"Can't ye wait fur me to interdooce ye in civilized manner, ye howlin'
galoots," he admonished severely. "I hiv to blush fur yer ignorance, I
has." Then he hitched up his nether garments, ejected a quid of tobacco
from his mouth, coughed discreetly, and began--

"As discoverer o' this 'ere Golden Flat----"

"You stop right there, Nuggety," interjected Mackay. "If ye'll take the
trouble to look at the side o' that tree ahint your tent you'll observe
that my autograph is carved thereon, together with the date of
discovery. Now, while you go and satisfy yoursel', I'll dae the
introducin'. Emu Bill"--the tall bushman stepped forward and shook hands
with the lads--"is a very decent sort o' indiveedual. A bit
cantankerous, saving wi' his speech, and I would hae some hope for him
if he wasna sae perneeciously given to makin' poetry----"

"Get out, Mac----"

"Dead Broke Dan!" The veteran of the camp strode forward. "A guid solid
and straight man who has done his best to mak' every man's fortune but
his ain. Never Never Dave"--that individual with the Shadow had already
anticipated the formal introduction, and was listening with delight for
his qualifications--"is a weary wanderer, like mysel', only withoot my
unquestionable abilities. And the Shadow"--that guileful youth suddenly
became engaged in earnest conversation with Bob--"the Shadow, I say, is
a youth wha's greatest misfortune is his extraordinar' habit o'
neglectin' the commandment which says, youngsters should be seen but
never heard. For a' that he's a guid laddie----"

"Say, boss," ejaculated the victim, smilingly, "if ye'll write that down
I'll send it to my Sunday-school teacher in Melbourne."

At this point Nuggety Dick returned somewhat crestfallen.

"You were quite right, Mackay," said he. "Is there any other place in
the whole country you hasn't struck your name on?"

Mackay's face relaxed into a broad smile.

"We'll divide the honours, Nuggety, my man," he answered magnanimously;
and with one accord they all made their way to the tree behind Nuggety's
tent to gaze at the symbol which justified Mackay's claim. There it was,
cut deeply into the hard wood, and almost obliterated with enclustering
moss, "J. M. 1898."

Bob examined the letters with something akin to awe. Jack laughed
gleefully; the others crowding round seemed ill at ease. Mackay guessed
their thoughts intuitively.

"My claim has lapsed, boys," he said quietly.

"Not by a single peg," protested Nuggety Dick. "We don't need no
Government to tell us what to do. We know the ground is yours by the
all-fired right o' discovery, a right which touches us right down on our
most tender feelings."

"We've just struck it rich, but we'll git all the same," said Never
Never Dave; and a sympathetic murmur of approval greeted his words. The
bushman's code of honour is Spartan in its simplicity.

Again Mackay smiled, and all trace of hardness had gone out of his voice
when he made answer.

"Boys, ye have spoken as I knew ye would speak, and it does my heart
good to look at you all again, and feel that the same old sympathies are
with us still. But the true discoverer of Golden Flat was the leader of
the expedition who piloted his party so well until the end, and I ken
he wouldna have me turn you away. No, boys, there's room enough for us
all; my mates an' me will peg out claims at the end o' the lead; the
chances o' strikin' the wash are a' equal." He paused, and gazed sadly
at the half-obliterated inscription on the tree, unheedful of the deep
appreciation with which his words were received. "If it's my good
fortune to make a rise on Golden Flat," he continued, with grave
solemnity, "I mean to devote it a' on an expedition into the Never
Never. I want to see again that mountain which kept me back. I want to
have a word with the tribe that lives behind it...."

"I'll be with you, Mac," quietly spoke Emu Bill.

"And me, fur a dead cert!" said Nuggety Dick.

"Put Never Never Dave's name on the programme," grunted that worthy.

"And mine," echoed Dead Broke Dan.

"You can bet your shirt I'll be with you," cried the Shadow.

"There's only you and me left, Jack," said Bob. "But we'll be there
too."

"And now let us have lunch, boys," suggested Nuggety Dick, breaking the
odd silence that ensued; and they walked away, leaving Mackay still
gazing at the fateful tree with unseeing eyes.

"Poor old Mac," muttered the Shadow, sympathetically.

"Did you know him before?" asked Jack.

"I should say I did. Why, he put me on to the only paying gold show I
ever worked. That was two years back. He was one o' the Coolgardie
pioneers too, and, of course, every one who was there knows him."

"Ah, that was a great old time," mused Emu Bill, entering into the
conversation. "Mackay made a bit o' a rise then, and he might have been
a rich man now if he hadn't taken the Never Never fever."

"I'll tell you what, boys," said Nuggety Dick, hastily adding a handful
of tea to the boiling billy, "Mackay is the straightest man that ever
chased nuggets, and this here camp will see that he doesn't tackle that
miserable desert again without us skirmishin' alongside."

"Let us drink good luck to Golden Flat, boys," cried the individual in
question cheerily, coming up from behind, and seizing a pannikin of tea.

"Good luck to Golden Flat--and to its discoverer!" replied they all,
standing up and drinking the toast heartily.

Shortly afterwards the three new-comers set off to peg out their claims
on the golden channel, and erect their tent. The others would have
accompanied them in a body to assist in the work, but Mackay, while
thanking them, firmly refused their services.

"I want to initiate my partners into the rules o' the business," he
explained, "an' the best way to teach them is by showing the way and
watching them do it. No, no, boys, you had better go and burrow in your
shafts, we'll engineer our own funeral."

The slight depression which indicated the presence of the golden channel
below, ran in a north and southerly direction, and could be traced
without difficulty for fully five hundred yards, after which it merged
into the open plain, but the line of workings did not extend much more
than halfway down this length.

"These old water-courses," said Bob, who had been thinking deeply, "must
have belonged to a very ancient period, when the whole aspect of the
country was different."

"And how so?" queried Mackay.

"Because," returned Bob, hesitatingly, "there are no mountains here now,
no water-sheds at all, and the gold must have been carried by a flow of
water from somewhere. The whole country must have been sunk under the
sea, then, after a long time, upheaved again higher than it was before.
The volcanic disturbances must have destroyed all its original
features."

"Do you ken, Bob, my lad," said Mackay, earnestly, "I like to hear you
speak like that. It shows ye've got some pro-fundity o' thought, an' I
quite agree wi' your argument."

A cry of delight from Jack broke in on their geological discussion. That
very eager youth had unconsciously adopted the tactics of the
experienced prospector by eyeing the ground closely as he walked, and
his keenness had not gone unrewarded, for he now displayed a dull yellow
specimen between his finger and thumb.

"Ay, it's gold, sure enough," was Mackay's verdict, when he had glanced
at it, "and it weighs fully an ounce if I'm any judge. Jack, my boy,
ye'll beat us a' at this game yet. That's five pounds ye've made in the
time it would take to blink an eye. You'll mak' a grand prospector,
Jack. Put that bit in your pocket, and keep it aye as a memento; you'll
think a lot o' it afterwards."

"But it's really yours," said the lad, refusing to take it back. "I'm
not going to take everything of yours and keep all I get too."

Poor Jack was embarrassed. His was one of those generous natures which
can never forget a kindness, and Mackay had behaved more like a brother
than a mere friend.

"I agree with you, Jack," ventured Bob.

"Tut, tut, laddies," grunted Mackay, "we're goin' to be partners wi'
equal shares--and from what I can see already I think I'm vera fortunate
in having you wi' me--but first specimens should be ootside the
arrangement altogether. Take the bittie gold, Jack, and I hope I'll live
to see it in your ain home years after this."

They had by this time reached the end of the channel, at least so far as
surface indications were concerned, and Bob once more propounded a
theory.

"Is it not right to assume," said he, "that though we cannot trace the
water-course any further on the surface, it must be there all the same?"

"Quite correct," answered Mackay; "but it may have changed its
direction, an' it may have divided into smaller channels."

"But just here where it apparently disappears," persisted Bob, "may not
some obstacle have deflected the current, or made the sand pile up and
so raised the true bed upwards, making the original sides of the gully
shallower at this point, and accounting for its being filled up level
with the surrounding country before the deeper parts got wholly silted
up?"

"Go on, my lad," prompted Mackay, patting the young man's shoulder,
"allowin' what ye say to be right; what sort o' deduction do you arrive
at?"

"I should think," said Bob, with growing eagerness, "that the gold would
stick on the rise more than on the level, and that if we sank our shaft
just over the apparent break of the channel we would most likely strike
it rich."

"It seems good sound logic, Bob," commented Mackay, in reflective mood,
"but as I'm a practical man and no' much o' a theorist, I'll no'
venture to say whether ye are richt or wrang. One matter, however, must
be determined afore I can completely side wi' ye, and that is in what
direction was the creek flowing?"

Bob was for the moment nonplussed, and observing his hesitation, the man
of practice seemed to be suddenly amused.

"That appears to be a tough proposition, doesn't it?" said he.

"It does," agreed Bob, still pondering over a solution to the question.

"Well, it isn't, my lad. The creek just flowed as you first allowed, in
orthodox manner, from north to south. I'm vera pleased to notice how
quickly you have got a grip o' things, an' I only asked the question so
as to direct your attention to what must be the base o' your theory, for
if the flow had been in the opposite direction the bottom would have
been completely knocked oot o' your argument."

"But how can you tell how it was flowing?" asked Bob, still somewhat
mystified.

"Easily enough; I had a look at Never Never Dave's shaft and paid
particular attention to the nature o' the gold wash below. Every pebble
o' the conglomerate stuff was water worn and mair or less wedge-shaped
wi' the blunt ends facing in this direction. Now do you savvy?
Observation is a grand virtue, Bob----"

"I am afraid you have been laughing at me," spoke the young man,
gravely.

"I'll prove to you that I havena," came the quick response. "Jack, come
here and do your geometry lesson."

Jack had been industriously searching for further treasure, but he
hastened up at once.

"Now," said his mentor, "I want you to mark out a rectangle five feet
six inches by two feet six inches just on the break o' that meeserable
apology for a creek. We'll start sinkin' our shaft there in the
mornin'."

So it came about that Bob planned the position of their first shaft,
with Jack assisting; and Mackay walking a little way apart surveyed the
pair with deep satisfaction.

"I can see," he soliloquized, "that my young friend, Bob, is goin' to be
a vera useful acquisition, and if Jack develops along the lines in which
his tastes lie, I have much need to congratulate mysel'. Who would have
thought it?..."

Next after the lining out of the projected shaft came the pegging of the
claims. For this four stout posts were required, thick enough when faced
with an axe to present a surface at least four inches square. These were
soon forthcoming, the mulga shrubs growing around being just of
sufficient girth to meet with official requirements.

"And now, my lads," said Mackay, in sprightly tones, "we're going to
mark out three men's ground, a hundred feet by a hundred is the
allowance per man, so that means we can take a hundred yards along the
creek and one hundred feet across." He began to pace off the ground as
he spoke. "We can check it with a tape after," said he, "but I have done
this so often that I'm no' likely to be faur oot in my calculations."

Soon the four pegs were sunk into position by Jack and Mackay, Bob at
the same time scooping out with pick and shovel short rectangular
trenches at each corner to indicate plainly to any subsequent observer
the position of the outlying boundaries. This done they gazed at their
handiwork with serene contentment. The mercurial Mackay was once more in
the clutches of the gold fever, and his companions were no whit less
affected.

"Let us call it Mackay's Reward," cried Jack, at length.

That gentleman shook his head. "This claim shall henceforth be known as
The Golden Promise," he said.

Next on the afternoon's programme was the erection of the tent, and Jack
at once volunteered to search the scrub for the two forked upright posts
required to support the ridge or roof pole of the calico structure,
Mackay and Bob meanwhile arranging the various stores and mining
implements which they had unloaded from the camel. That wiry animal
itself was not far off assiduously chewing clumps of saltbush and
spinifex grass, varying this somewhat monotonous fare by occasional
mouthfuls of the mulga twigs within its reach. Five minutes, ten minutes
passed, and no Jack reappeared, nor was the sound of his axe heard in
the near distance. Mackay became uneasy.

"I do hope the laddie hasna gone far," he muttered, throwing down the
pick handle he was fitting to the steel and looking around anxiously.

"But he'll know how to get back," reassured Bob.

Mackay grunted unbelievingly. "That's aye the way wi' new chums in the
bush," he declared. "They never remember that everything is alike in
this country, an' that only the sun can be taken as a guide." Seizing
his rifle he set off in the direction Jack had taken, Bob hastening at
his heels; but they had not gone far before they were gazing at a most
extraordinary spectacle. There was the delinquent indulging in fierce
chase after a great yellow ungainly creature which scrambled around in
a narrow circle, turning at intervals to snap savagely at its tormentor,
who was aiming numerous but ineffective blows at his quarry with the axe
he carried. Round and round they went, and Jack's energy seemed all but
spent when Mackay's hearty laugh attracted his attention.

"Ho! ho! ho!" he chuckled, walking leisurely forward and interrupting
the performance. Bob at the moment could not see any reason for this
display of humour, and certainly Jack did not.

"It attacked me when I was cutting a tree," explained the baffled
warrior, "and every time I stopped chasing it, it turned and chased me.
I suppose the brute's tired now, or it would be at me again." He wiped
the perspiration from his forehead, and eyed his enemy malevolently. The
object of his wrath was a peculiar crocodile-like creature with an
enormously long tail, short thick-set legs, and a narrow
venomous-looking head. It must have measured fully five feet in length,
and was certainly ugly enough to disconcert any one who did not know the
nature of the beast. Now it rested calmly by the foot of a tree, its
head swaying gently and its abnormally elongated tongue shooting out and
in with lightning rapidity.

"It's only a poor wee iguana, Jack," consoled Mackay. "It would dae you
no harm, though I will admit it doesna look as peaceably inclined as it
might; but watch me whistle to it." He strode forward, and kneeling
beside the huge iguana--but as the boys noticed, beyond the reach of its
sturdy claws--whistled unmelodiously a selection from a popular opera,
and lo! ere the first two bars had been negotiated, Jack's recent
enemy's head began to nod rhythmically with the music! and its whole
body took on an attitude of satisfied repose.

"Well, I'm jiggered!" was all that Jack could say, while Bob exploded
into uncontrollable mirth. Then the musician ceased his labours.

"I'm no sayin' that anybody could charm the beastie like me," he
admitted with exceeding modesty. "My whustle's got a wonderfu' movin'
element in it----"

"It has," agreed the pair, with unanimous promptitude, shuddering with
painful emotion. The big man laughed.

"I was sure ye would coincide wi' my statement," he blandly said. "And
now let us get the happy home fixed afore sundown. The darkness will be
on in two shakes o' a kangaroo's tail."

On returning with the necessary saplings to the clearing they had
prepared as a site for their future dwelling, they found the Shadow
awaiting them somewhat anxiously.

"I was wondering where ye had got to," he remarked, apparently much
relieved, "I saw some nigs in the district a couple o' days ago, and I
was afraid they had scooped ye in."

"<DW65>s, here?" cried Mackay.

"They were both out watching me try to kill an iguana," said Jack, with
a laugh.

"But you shouldn't kill iguanas," reproved the Shadow. "They never mean
no harm, and they does wonderful good around a camp, killing snakes and
centipedes and other crawlers."

"Oh, I'll remember next time," assured Jack; "I'll remember to run like
smoke when I see one like the brute I tackled to-day. An ugly wobbly
monster over five feet long, harmless!" It was clear that Jack was by
no means convinced.

That evening the entire population of Golden Flat gathered around the
new-comers' camp fire, and did much to entertain the boys with their
various anecdotes and reminiscences. Desperate encounters with natives,
thrilling tales of the early Coolgardie days, and narratives of
prospecting journeys through the waterless bush regions followed each
other in quick succession. The intense heat of the day had now given
place to an extraordinarily chill atmosphere, which was the more
noticeable because of the sudden change, and all huddled closely to the
glowing logs. But it soon became apparent that the cheerful warmth of
the fire was attracting other and by no means welcome visitors, and
though no one seemed to be in any way concerned, Jack viewed the
innumerable pests and crawling creatures that kept forcing their way
into the flames with some apprehension. The conversation had narrowed
down to a wordy discussion on the possibilities of gold being found in
the far interior.

"Every bushman believes that there's bound to be gold in the Never
Never," reiterated Emu Bill, assisting a large-sized centipede into the
fire with a _sang froid_ that aroused Jack's horror. But he was yet to
be more surprised.

"Don't move, Jack," said the Shadow's voice from somewhere behind him.
"There's a black snake trying to snuggle into your trousers pocket. I'll
spifflicate him in a jiff;" and he promptly gripped the intruding
reptile by the tail, swung it once round his head, then cracked it as
one might the lash of a whip, breaking its back in an instant.

"I suppose I'll get accustomed to it," said Jack, with a shudder.

"I'll show you how to slaughter them yourself to-morrow," comforted the
Shadow.

"I say, Mackay," said Nuggety Dick, from his distant corner, "ye haven't
told us about your trip to the old country yet! How did ye take to it
after your ten years' Australian experience?"

But Mackay would only commit himself to one statement. "It's a grand
country, Nuggety," said he, with impressive earnestness; "but it belongs
to too few folk." Which enigmatical reflection seemed to give his
hearers some food for thought.




CHAPTER IV

The Treasure of the Mine


During the week that followed, the work at Golden Flat proceeded apace.
Sinking operations were being conducted all along the line of the
auriferous wash from Never Never Dave's shaft down to the Golden Promise
Claim, and red- flags were almost daily making their appearance
on the various windlass heads, indicating that the fortunate owners of
the claims had bottomed on gold. Never Never Dave's excavation, as has
been already mentioned, struck the pay gravel at the ten-foot level, and
that easy-going individual was leisurely engaged scooping out the rich
conglomerate-looking cement while his neighbours were yet industriously
seeking for the golden channel. Nuggety Dick was the next to reach it;
his ground was directly adjacent to Dave's, yet his shaft was down
fifteen feet before the welcome red symbol showed at his workings, thus
indicating the gradual dip of the ancient waterway. Before the week was
out, however, every shaft had bottomed on the golden gravel excepting
that which Mackay, Bob, and Jack were sinking. But this delay in
reaching the longed-for stratum in no way disconcerted Mackay.

"The chances are," said he, "that, when we do strike it at the lower
level, the wash itself will be deeper and wider."

This thought was a wonderful incentive to them all, for the
gold-carrying gravel laid bare in the other workings was scarcely two
feet in thickness, and, though its richness was unquestionable, its
limited nature was only too apparent. Bob and Jack took their turns in
the shaft with great good humour and enthusiasm, and though at first
their efforts to penetrate the flinty formations encountered were almost
unavailing, they quickly acquired the science of the work under the
constant guidance of Mackay, who also taught them how to temper their
tools for the different kinds of strata, how to drill holes for the
gelignite charges so as to obtain the most efficient results. Their
early training especially fitted them for this kind of tuition, and they
proved very apt pupils. Mackay, though such a strong man himself, was no
advocate of the supremacy of muscle even in shaft-sinking.

"Science beats it every time," said he. "Of course, I'm no denyin' that,
where baith strength and science are combined there's a wonderfu'
advantage, but it doesna often happen that a strong man physically is
blessed wi' a superabundity o' mental gifts----"

Jack, of course, could not resist the interruption. "We can't allow that
from you, sir," in his most sedate tones.

Mackay smiled. "I'm vera pleased to have your implied testimonial,
Jack," he returned, with twinkling eyes; "but then I was aboot to remark
that an exception was needed to prove any rule, an' I was to assume
mysel' to be the exception in this case. No, no, mind conquers matter,
and that is why you two are just as fitted to pit doon a shaft as the
strongest navvy in the country." All of which the boys found to be quite
in accordance with facts when they got accustomed to wielding the pick,
hammer, and drill.

"Observe any cracks in the formation," their kindly instructor would
call down to them; "attack everything in the lines o' least resistance."
And by following his advice to the letter they quickly discovered that
gold-mining was by no means as difficult as they had imagined.

Now, just when the first week of their labours had concluded, the shaft
was sunk twenty feet; a few more feet would decide whether or not Bob's
theory would prove correct.

"I tell you what, mates," said Nuggety Dick that evening, "you were just
a bit venturesome in sinking so far from the main workings."

"I don't think so," returned Bob, confidently. "We'll get there all
right, Nuggety. Another five feet should do it." And another five feet
did do it. Two days later Mackay's pick broke through the covering layer
of diorite in the bottom of the shaft, and with a grunt of satisfaction
he called on Jack, who was at the windlass, to lower the bucket.

"I'm sending up some specimens," he cried.

Jack gave a howl of delight; hearing which, Bob, who had been reading in
the tent, rushed out, and with eyes gleaming with suppressed excitement,
hurried to the shaft mouth. He was just in time to assist in the raising
of the heavily laden bucket. Nearer and nearer it came to the surface.
Would the wash be gold-bearing or would it be barren? The boys'
agitation was intense. Their limbs trembled and their hands could
scarcely retain their grip on the windlass arms. Down below stood
Mackay, perspiring with his arduous toil, watching the bucket ascend
with somewhat anxious eyes. The glare of the sun across the shaft's
mouth made everything apparent to him, while he himself was obscured
from view in the shadows. The bucket had almost reached the top; already
Bob had stretched out his hand to grasp it, when a stentorian shout from
below arrested the movement, and, for a space, the fateful harbinger of
good or evil tidings hung motionless.

"Keep a good grip o' your nerves--an' the windlass, lads. Heave away!"

The caution came in time. It suddenly flashed upon them both that a
single slip on their part, a momentary hesitation, might prove
disastrous to their friend below. Again Bob stretched out his hand, his
eyes caught the glisten of gold, but his grip was sure. Next instant he
and Jack were gazing at a whitish mass, through which shone myriad
dazzling particles of the yellow metal. A few minutes later Mackay was
jerked to the surface; there was no hesitancy in the movement of the
windlass now; the moment of extreme tension had come and gone. Together
they sat down on the sand and examined the specimens one by one without
speaking. Then Mackay rose to his feet.

"The theory was right, Bob," he said calmly. "This is the richest stuff
on the lead. I don't know how much there is of it yet, but there's
enough to make you glad you came out to Australia, anyhow. Run up the
flag, Jack," he directed, turning to that youth, who was still joyously
examining his treasures. "Let Golden Flat know that we three are right
here every time." He spoke jovially, yet so quietly, that his words
exercised a kind of restraint over his hearers, which he was quick to
notice.

"Never mind me, my lads," he said. "You've got every reason to rejoice,
but you must remember that I'm an old hand at gold digging, an' the
yellow dirt doesna mak' me enthuse like it aince did." Truly enough, to
this strange Scot of many moods, the excitement and risk attending
discovery was everything; he viewed the rich reward likely to be his
with almost stoical indifference. Indeed, he was engaged in a deep
philosophical argument with Bob concerning the uses and abuses of gold
as a factor in the world's history, when the population of Golden Flat
arrived in a body to tender their congratulations.

"But in these days," Bob was saying, "not to have gold is held to be
almost a proof of one's inferiority. The world does not judge from an
intellectual standpoint. It demands wealth. No matter what brains a
young man may have at home, the chances are against his ever coming to
the front unaided. Gold----" Bob stopped suddenly, having become aware
of a growing audience behind him.

From the group old battered Dead Broke made grave utterance.

"I believe your ideas are kerect, Bob; but from what I sees here you can
thank your lucky stars that the gold has come to you early in life. Look
at me an' Nuggety----"

"An' me," broke in the youthful Shadow, with affected mournfulness.

At this stage Jack came forward with a handful of fine gold slugs and
coarse dust.

"I've just dollied a few samples," said he, handing his treasure to
Mackay. "That should go about twenty ounces to the ton, shouldn't it?"

"Nearer two hundred, Jack," returned Mackay, smiling at his eagerness.

"We're jolly glad to know you've struck it, boys," said Nuggety Dick,
earnestly. "And we hopes it will be a thicker patch than ours, for, from
what I sees, we can work out our claims in less than a month."

"Well, we sunk here on the spec. o' striking it bigger on the rise,"
said Mackay. "But whether or no we've been successful I canna say just
yet."

"I'm going to sink for a deeper patch," growled Emu Bill. "I believe
we've only got a floater in our claims, an' the true bottom should be
further down."

"I'd advise you to work out all the shallow ground first," said Mackay.
"You never know when a rush may come sailin' along. Keep stackin' the
stuff until we get a battery up; don't trouble dollyin' it--it's only
wasting time."

His advice was sound, and was greeted with murmurs of assent. The water
supply at the camp was daily becoming less and less; no doubt more could
be tapped by sinking a deep shaft, but this would involve considerable
delay, and the citizens of Golden Flat were by no means anxious to leave
their congenial occupation at so early a period. By roughly grinding the
cement-like wash, and rinsing off the lighter sands, fairly accurate
assays could be obtained from sample specimens; but to continue such a
work on a large scale would drain the soak within a week. The only
feasible plan was to excavate as much of the gravel as possible in
anticipation of a crushing battery arriving on the ground, which would
surely be there immediately news of the Flat's richness spread abroad.
And so the days passed, and the sun beat down fiercely on the toiling
band who strove with grim Nature for her treasure. Ever and anon the
dull roar of exploding gelignite indicated how man was using the utmost
help civilization could give in order to shatter the many refractory
obstacles in his path.

At the Golden Promise Mine sinking operations were going on very
successfully; three feet of the golden conglomerate had been penetrated,
and still there were no signs of the dreaded barren pipe-clay formation
appearing. Bob's theory had already been proved to be correct. Tons upon
tons of rich stone had been raised to the surface. The actual width of
the channel was but eight feet; but the amount of cubic contents held in
the claim was bound to be several hundred of tons at least, even
supposing the drift went no deeper than the already known three feet.

Covered with dust and grime, and blackened by powder smoke, Bob and Jack
were working together one morning in the large chamber they had made in
the lower workings, and Mackay stood patiently by the windlass awaiting
the call to raise the boys from the danger below, for they were firing a
difficult charge. They had grown quite accustomed to the use of
gelignite by this time, and, as Mackay proudly informed Emu Bill, they
never once had had a misfire.

On this occasion, however, some delay had occurred owing to the fuse
which Mackay had sent down becoming detached from the cap. He always
arranged the charges on the surface, calculating the number of plugs
required, and the length of fuse necessary, when he finished drilling
the holes below, leaving the boys to insert the charges and see them
properly fired. At last came the warning from Jack--"All ready!"--as he
slipped his foot in the loop of the wire rope which was hanging in
readiness. In a few seconds he was on the surface, while the rope was
again rapidly lowered for Bob, who was even then lighting a match to
apply to the fuse. The two on top heard the match scratch on the box,
and immediately thereafter the familiar sputtering of the fuse echoed to
their ears, but still no sound from Bob! Yet the faint, insidious odour
of the burning fuse crept up to their nostrils, and they knew that
something had happened. Mackay's face grew livid.

"It's only a sixty seconds' fuse," he muttered hoarsely. "Stand by the
windlass, Jack. I'll slide down the rope."

Jack seemed to awake from a stupor. "I'm lightest," he cried; and threw
himself at the rope without waiting for Mackay to brake the windlass
barrel.

The iron arms of the windlass spun round, a few more loose coils only
remained on the barrel. The brawny Scot hesitated not an instant. He
rushed at the gyrating bar, and received the shock of the descending
steel on his bared chest. The windlass rope held firm. Another
revolution, and it would have run off the barrel and dashed the boy who
clung to its strands to a certain death beside his companion. It was all
over in a few seconds. Not knowing how his impetuous action had nearly
caused certain disaster, Jack slid down the rope with lightning speed,
and almost immediately his steady call--"Heave away!"--was heard. And
now came the trial of strength where all the science in the world could
not assist; only twenty seconds' grace, a double load on the windlass,
and twelve plugs of one of the most powerful explosives known beneath!
But Mackay was equal to the task. The windlass arm spun round once
again, and on the fifteenth second Jack swung into view, his foot
resting in the loop, one lacerated hand grasping tightly at the rope,
and supporting in his right arm the blood-dripping form of Bob, his
comrade. Mackay reached out his strong arm, and drew them both to safety
just as a thunderous explosion occurred which hurled tons of massive
rocks to the shaft mouth and beyond.

Five minutes later all three were seated in the tent repairing their
bruises, and making sundry comments on the occurrence. Bob's face was
almost deathly pallid, and the blood still trickled from a deep gash in
the back of his head; it appeared that just after he had applied the
match to the fuse a portion of the iron roof of the excavation had given
way, hurling him unconscious to the ground.

"I remembered no more," said he, "until I found myself in the tent
here."

"It was a vera close shave, my lad," said Mackay, with suppressed
emotion. "I'm no goin' to expatiate on Jack's quick action in the
matter, but he maist certainly saved your life. It needed some nerve to
gang doon on top o' a burnin' charge o' dynamite."

Bob smiled affectionately at his companion, and reached out his hand;
and Jack, flushing almost guiltily, was forced to show his cruelly torn
fingers.

"And, Bob," said he, almost tearfully, "it was Mackay----"

"You stop, right there, youngster," interrupted that gentleman, "I'll
tak' nane o' the credit from you. You deserve it a', my lad. I'm proud
o' you, I am. Now, I think you'd both be the better o' a rest. I'll go
up and see how the other boys are getting on. I hope none o' the
grinning hyenas noticed anything."

But the "grinning hyenas" had noticed, and Mackay met them in a body
immediately he went out of the tent. There was the Shadow, Nuggety, Emu
Bill, and company hastening forward, dismay showing plainly on their
features.

"What's happened, Mac? Any one killed?" they shouted.

"Calm yoursel's, boys, calm yoursel's," adjured Mackay, "there's been no
serious damage done. But I'll need to timber the roof o' the drive
before we do any more work below; a bit o' it fell and gave young Bob a
nasty crack on the cranium just as he fired a heavy charge. Jack got him
out a' richt, but it vera nearly was a funeral."

Very sincere were the sympathetic expressions of the group. The
unassuming attitude of Mackay's mates, as the boys were called, their
happy temperament, had endeared them to the dwellers on Golden Flat, and
now they trooped into the tent, and, in their rough kindly way,
congratulated the pair on their escape, much to Jack's confusion. No
truer-hearted men could be found than those battered pioneers of the
desert land. Their life amid Nature's grim solitudes is one filled with
unceasing cares, unseen dangers lurk for ever in their lonely path,
their stern, set faces are but the result of bush environment which
insidiously yet surely marks its victims with her stamp of immobility.

"You'll be all right in a day or so, Bob," spoke Nuggety Dick, cheerily,
after examining the wound.

"If ye'll let me, I'll take your shift until ye're better," said the
Shadow, hesitatingly; "I can't do much in my own shaft now without a
mate, it's too deep for me to work alone."

Bob thanked him gratefully. "I hate to keep things back," said he, "and
if Mackay has no objections----"

"Don't worry about that, Bob," broke in Mackay; "I'll mak' use o' the
Shadow until ye are well again, unless he misbehaves vera badly."

That same afternoon a new discovery was made by Emu Bill, which had the
effect of raising the excitement of the camp to fever heat. Having
continued his shaft down through the supposed bottom of the golden wash
in his claim, he suddenly came upon a strange soapy grey deposit, not
unlike putty in appearance.

"That proves we hasn't struck bottom yet," was his verdict, as he
examined the odd formation keenly; "there's no pipeclay about that,
there isn't." Then his eyes blinked and stared and blinked again.
"Howlin' blazes," he murmured gently to himself, "this will give the
boys a shock, it will." He had carelessly broken a piece of the clayey
mass between his finger and thumb, and behold, the line of fracture
showed golden yellow, and in the dim candle-light innumerable dazzling
pin-points of colour gleamed throughout the entire specimen. In a few
moments he was on the surface, bearing the cherished find in his hand.
"I have got something, Nuggety," said he, addressing his partner, "that
shid make ye gasp."

Nuggety gasped in anticipation, then uttered a yell of delight as his
eyes beheld the glittering specimen.

"Is it a new level, Emu?" he asked eagerly.

Emu Bill nodded. "Round up the boys," said he. "It'll give them mighty
encouragement to hiv' a look at this here bonanza." Nuggety rushed away
at once, and Bill ventured another gaze at his treasure. But somehow he
did not seem to derive as much satisfaction from this observation.
"Hang it," he growled, closing his hands tightly over the specimen, "I
could ha' sworn I saw more gold than that in it at first."

In a few short minutes he was surrounded by an enthusiastic throng.

"Nuggety says you've struck a new level, Bill," they cried almost with
one voice.

"I hiv' that," said Bill, with calm satisfaction, "an' from what I can
see, there'll be thousands o' tons o' the stuff in our grounds, an' it's
just crammed wi' gold."

He cautiously unclosed his hand, and proffered the wonderful stone to
Never Never Dave, who examined it keenly, then passed it on to his next
neighbour without a word, eyeing Emu Bill reproachfully the while.
Strangely enough, no one seemed to appreciate Emu's find but himself;
but he smiled and chuckled enough for them all. The last man to examine
the specimen was Mackay; he was the latest arrival, having been down
below, timbering the tunnel in the shaft which had given way so
inopportunely, when the great news reached him.

"An' what's this ye've got, Bill?" he said, receiving the fateful
fragment from old Dead Broke Dan, who sighed deeply as he handed it
over. "What is it you're playin' at?" he demanded, after a first cursory
glance.

"It's all straight, Mac," broke in Bill, eagerly. "It's a fair sample,
an' there' lots more o' it, too."

Mackay eyed the speaker with fast-rising disgust. "Dae you ken, Emu,"
said he, slowly, "if it werena for the fact that I got a' the wind
squelched oot o' me the day, I would lay violent hands on ye for puttin'
up such a meeserable joke on your friends."

Poor Emu Bill looked dazed. "Why, what's wrong wi' the gold?" he asked
feebly. "Surely you ain't goin' to tell me I doesn't know gold from iron
pyrites----"

"Poor old Emu must ha' got a touch o' the sun to-day," grunted Never
Never, sympathetically.

With a snort of indignation, Bill clutched back his specimen from
Mackay, gave one glance at it, then subsided in the sand.

"You're right, boys," he announced from his lowly position in weary
dejected tones; "I'm as mad as a hatter."

Not a trace of the yellow metal showed in the stone he now held in his
hand.

"I would ha' sworn I saw gold in that stuff," he continued pathetically.
"No, no, Emu Bill's finished. Crack me on the head, boys, for Heaven's
sake, an' bury me quick."

"An' me too," groaned Nuggety. "I saw the gold, as I'm a livin' sinner,
I did."

A glint of joy flashed into Bill's eyes at the words, and he struggled
to his feet.

"Come down into the shaft, Mackay, and have a look for yourself," he
said. "I do believe the curious stuff is so delicate it can't stand the
light."

Still somewhat dubious about Emu Bill's professed honesty of purpose,
Mackay was not slow to avail himself of the opportunity of judging for
himself whether or not the new formation really did carry visible gold.
Then, noting the truly distressed countenance of his old acquaintance,
he relented.

"I believe ye did think ye saw gold, Emu," said he, before placing his
foot in the sling preparatory to descending the shaft, "an' though I
dinna expect to see any glittering bonanza down below here, I'm sort o'
convinced _you_ saw it right enough. It's the sun, Emu, my man; that's
what it is."

Bill shook his head feebly; it was all beyond his comprehension.

"I'll come down after you, Mac," he said. "It's a mighty funny stuff,
and you need to break it before it shows colour."

By this time every man in the camp was around the windlass; even Bob,
with his bandaged head, had put in appearance, and Jack and the Shadow
were also there. Quickly the windlass ran out, and deposited Mackay at
the new level exposed, and while the rope went up again for Bill he lit
a candle and peered cautiously around. He was looking for snakes, the
bite of a certain variety of which induces strange hallucinations.
Observing nothing in the shape he dreaded, he heaved a sigh of relief,
and turned his attention to the soapy-like stratum from which Bill had
broken his wonderful specimen. Only a dull grey muddy deposit was
visible. With a jerk and a rattle the haulage rope came down again, and
Emu Bill arrived at his side.

"I see nothing, Bill, my man," grunted Mackay.

Bill said not a word, but, taking his pick, smote furiously at the
deceiving substance, and as it became disintegrated great gleaming
streaks and sheets and scintillating points of gold seemed to show all
over it.

"Can ye see anything, Mac?" inquired the wielder of the pick, pausing in
his labours, and glancing eagerly at his companion.

"I'm simply flabbergasted," came the slow response. "There seems to be
enough gold there to stock a second Bank o' England."

He picked up a piece of the strange formation which showed dazzling
yellow lines across its newly broken face, and examined it closely and
intently; he rubbed it with his finger, and the brilliance vanished.

"We'd better take up some o' the best-looking bits," he suggested.

Bill laughed. "Why, the hanged stuff won't show a colour on top," he
said.

But they decided to chance it all the same, and accordingly Mackay
arrived on the surface bearing the result of his investigations tightly
wrapped in an old handkerchief, and when the package was opened up a cry
of admiration broke from all beholders, so beautiful, indeed, did the
specimens appear.

A hoarse call from the underground interrupted their scrutiny.

"For Heaven's sake, boys, put a chain on that there mirage, until I get
a look at it."

And while two men went to the windlass and began to haul Bill to the
surface, a gradual change began to take place in the nature of the
specimens. The yellow sheen grew darker and darker until it shone like
bronze, and in this state Bill viewed them on his arrival. Slowly yet
surely the bronze shades merged into a strangely variegated purple hue,
and, while the onlookers stared aghast, this gradually evolved into the
original clayey aspect of the formation surrounding it.

"Well, I'll be jiggered!" ejaculated the Shadow.

"It's just a mirage," said Bill, grimly.

The rest of the miners did not care to place on record the state of
their feelings, their usually fluent enough speech failed them on this
trying occasion. Mackay broke the silence.

"There can be no doubt aboot the gold being there, boys," said he, "an'
in sufficient quantities to make a' oor fortunes--if we could only catch
it before it vanished." He stopped, absolutely nonplussed.

Bob, who had not yet spoken, advanced and scrutinized the now wholly
dulled ore fragments with alert eyes.

"I don't know that I can help you," he said quietly, "but I should like
to try. Anyhow, it's more in my line than yours, for I've studied
chemistry a bit."

"What do you make of it, Bob?" asked Mackay, quickly.

The reply came promptly from the lips of the thoughtful student.

"The formation contains gold in an unstable state, but more so gold in
solution, both of which oxidize on contact with the air."

To say that Bob's words created extreme interest would be a very mild
statement of fact. His audience was comprised of gold-miners of very
varied experience and knowledge, yet none of them had ever heard of such
a tantalizing deposit as that they had now encountered.

"I may be wrong," continued Bob, "but I don't think there was any
mistaking the colours on the stones before they regained their normal
aspect. I've seen the same thing often in the laboratory. It was simply
Purple of Cassius, and you'll get the same result by dissolving a small
piece of gold in nitric and hydrochloric acids."

"But what about the real gold which was there at first?" inquired Emu
Bill. "It was yellow enough, or I'm colour blind."

Bob looked a trifle puzzled. "I should say it was an unstable chloride
or sulphide of the metal," he ventured at length. "A combination which
very seldom occurs in Nature."

"I'm o' the opinion that Bob's right," spoke Mackay. "This country's
full o' odd formations and no one has ever bothered studying them yet."

"If you can save this stuff afore it melts, Bob," grunted Nuggety Dick,
"there's bound to be a fortune waiting for you right here; for the clay
most likely covers the whole flat."

"I'll take these specimens with me now," decided Bob, "and try some
experiments with them;" and he gathered up the deceptive samples and
made his way back to the tent, leaving the wondering assembly still in a
maze of doubt.

"I do believe he can do it," grunted Emu Bill.

"He's got the finest balanced brain-box I've seen since I struck this
howling wilderness," commented Never Never Dave.

"Bob can do anything with chemistry," said Jack, proudly. Then they went
their several ways, all pondering deeply.

No more work was done that day: it would have seemed like tempting
Providence to continue further operations after two such thrilling
happenings had taken place. Bob quietly set about his task of analyzing
the troublesome specimens, then quickly discovered that he required a
stock of various acids and alkalis to aid him in his efforts.

"We're a' running short of stores anyhow," said Mackay. "We'd better
send some one into the township with the camels, and you could get the
chemicals required at the same time."

He straightway went and broached the matter to Nuggety Dick and his
satellites, and it was promptly arranged that old Dead Broke Dan should
be despatched with the team at once. It was by this time near the hour
of sundown, and the various camel bells of the party could be heard
faintly tinkling in the eastward distance.

"I'll round them up in a jiff," volunteered the Shadow, starting off at
a jog trot.

"I'm coming too, Shad!" shouted Jack, and together they entered the
scrub, and were soon lost to sight. They had not gone far, however,
before the Shadow stopped and listened with something like dismay
showing in his face. The bells seemed to be receding into the distance
rather than coming nearer.

"I've never heard o' them brutes travelling so fast," he said
discontentedly, and they increased their pace to a determined run, which
they kept up for fully ten minutes. The bells sounded distinctly nearer
now, but that the camels were on the march was plainly evident to the
Shadow, whose ear was acutely trained to judging distances by sound.

"I reckon I know what's wrong, Jack," said he. "Some wretched <DW65>s
have got them in tow. It's very lucky we came out to-night."

"Is it?" asked Jack, doubtfully.

The Shadow laughed joyously. "We'll have a grand circus on our own
to-night, if there ain't too many of them."

"But," said Jack, "we haven't even a rifle with us, and they'll have
their spears and boomerangs, won't they?"

"I've got something that will skeer the beggars quicker than any
shooting-iron," replied the Shadow. "See, look at this----"

He extracted from some secret recess in his meagre wardrobe a small
curiously shaped piece of wood, about six inches long and two inches or
so broad, tapering to a fine edge all round.

"That's a ghingi, Jack; I just hitch a bit o' string on to the end, and
whizz it round in the air, an' it howls like a dyin' dingo."

"But what good does that do?" Jack persisted, by no means enlightened.

"What good does it do?" echoed the Shadow. "Why, when they hear the
screech o' the ghingi-ghingi, they'll either vanish right away or come
to hear what it says. The ghingi is their devil, you know, but only the
sorcerers o' the tribes can make it speak. I made this here ghingi
myself, and, by thunder! it can yell like a good 'un, it can."

The Shadow was evidently quite delighted at the prospect of making use
of his handiwork, and as they strode along he managed to infuse Jack
with a considerable amount of his enthusiasm. It was now as dark as an
Australian night could be, but the steadfast radiance of the myriad
stars somewhat neutralized the gloom of the shadows and reflected an
eerie sort of half light over the motionless tips of the mulga scrub. At
last they were almost up on the clanging bells, and if there had been
any doubt in Jack's mind concerning the accuracy of his companion's
surmise as to their unusual clangour it disappeared utterly when he
heard the droning chant of the aborigines mingle with the rhythmic
peals. They had reached a small clearing in the scrub which permitted an
uninterrupted line of vision for nearly half a mile, but before leaving
the sheltering timber they hesitated, and peered anxiously across the
intervening sand plain, and there in the midst of it, darkly
discernible, moved the ghostly camel train.

"Now for it," muttered the Shadow, getting the ghingi ready for action.
"We must round up them camels afore they get into the bush country
again."

He whirled his device quickly around his head, and at once a strange
moaning broke upon the air. Faster and faster he spun it round, and the
moaning increased to a weird wailing shriek which penetrated across the
plain with shivering intensity. At once the bells ceased their clamour
and vague cries of alarm echoed back to the boys.

"Let us chase 'em up with it," exclaimed the Shadow, throwing all
caution aside. "When they hear the ghingi comin' nearer they won't wait
to argue long."

Together they made a wild burst over the ironshot flat, the ghingi
sending forth varying notes of wailing terror as they ran. In their
excitement they had not calculated on the nearness of the natives, the
silence of the bells perhaps somewhat confused them, but they halted
when they found themselves almost on the tail of the last camel, a huge
animal which the Shadow had no difficulty in recognizing by its unusual
size. All this time the harsh unmusical cries of the disquieted
aborigines rent their ears, but apparently the dusky band had not yet
decided to give up their stolen charges.

"Judging from the volume o' music let loose there must be 'bout half a
dozen o' the beggars," whispered the Shadow. "Here, Jack, take this
blooming ghingi, and let her rip. My arms are about busted. I'll do a
bit o' a yell myself and see what happens."

Jack seized the string of the syren and whirled with a will, and from
the lips of the Shadow there issued a most lugubrious groan, which
seemed to combine in it all the horrors that any demon of darkness could
have conjured up. That seemed to decide matters; with screams of terror
seven or eight stalwart blacks broke away from a point where they had
been huddled ahead of the camels; their dark forms were just visible as
they fled, and they made a somewhat ghost-like spectacle. Jack gave a
low chuckle of delight.

"Your voice fetched them, Shadow," said he.

"Keep the ghingi whizzing, Jack, keep it whizzing!" came the agonized
reply. "I couldn't do it again for all the gold in Australia. My
throat's burst, it is."

Their concerted action was now prompt and effective. In a trice the
Shadow had a grip of the nose-rope of the leading camel, and had turned
the unwieldly train on a backward course. Once more the bells rang out
their noisy clamour, yet still the ghingi sounded loud and shrill, and
still the jarring cries of the stricken warriors echoed in reply from a
not too remote distance. The adventuresome pair were not yet out of all
danger. Indeed it soon became evident to them that the mystified
aborigines were not altogether willing to accept the warning call of the
ghingi as a reason for the total abdication of their plunder. Their
discordant cries were just a bit too close to be pleasant.

"If they rush us, Jack," the Shadow hoarsely whispered, as he tugged at
Misery's nose-rope, "we'll have to make a bolt for it."

Jack grunted a sympathetic affirmative. "I can't swing this wretched old
ghingi much longer," he said.

Even while he spoke the savages seemed to decide on a definite course of
action; their yells suddenly grew louder and nearer. It was very
probable they had observed the boys through the gloom, and were thus
awakened to a knowledge of the ruse by which they had been deceived.
Anyhow there could be no doubt as to their intentions; they meant to
recapture the camels, and that right speedily, and yet the Shadow was
loth to leave his charges.

"They'll get us when we enter the scrub," said he, with dismal
resignation. "The beggars won't tackle us in the open. I reckon we'll
have to do a scoot, Jack."

Jack had already arrived at that conclusion; but now, as he rested from
his labours for an instant, a bright idea seized him. They were scarcely
a hundred yards from the edge of the timber; whatever was to be done
must be done quickly. Without a word he rushed back to the rearmost
camel, and hastily secured the tongue of the bell encircling its neck by
passing it through a loop in the leathern thong which hung loose for
that purpose. Moving hurriedly on he silenced each of the jangling bells
in the same way, and for a short space the cumbrous train proceeded in
absolute quiet.

"They'll think we've stopped, and it may keep them back for a bit," Jack
whispered.

The Shadow nodded comprehensively. It had come as a shock to him that
this new chum companion of his should have thought of the simple plan
first, and he felt somewhat aggrieved in consequence. Surely enough the
yells of the natives seemed to recede into the distance; the silence of
the bells had certainly confused them.

"They'll be with us in a jiff," calmly said the Shadow, as they entered
the scrub, in which prognostication he was quite correct.

A chorus of fiercer yells than before suddenly broke upon the still air,
then came the angry beating of spears upon shields, and the pat-pat of
many feet on the sand. But now came another unexpected diversion. Away
in the distance a heavy report boomed out; again and again the
thunderous echoes of exploding cordite crashed through the night.

The Shadow chuckled long and joyously. "That's Mackay's new rifle," he
said. "I would know the crack of it anywhere."

Other and varying discharges quickly followed, making it plain that the
entire community at Golden Flat had grown alarmed at the prolonged
absence of the boys, and were signalling in order to guide their return
in the darkness. The yelling horde at the first ominous sound had ceased
their clamour, but soon they broke out afresh and with renewed energy.
They meant to make one more effort to recover their prize before it was
hopelessly beyond their reach. With appalling shouts they quickly drew
near.

"It's hard luck to be forced to clear out now," complained Jack,
marvelling much at his companion's unsubdued joy.

That wily youth quietly unhitched the bells from the necks of the three
leading camels.

"I think we'll best the <DW65>s after all, Jack," he said. "I wasn't
exactly willing to let you risk it before; but you can steer by the
gunshots, can't you?"

"Of course," replied Jack, clutching at the nose-rope of Misery which
the Shadow had relinquished.

"Well, you take the team into camp, and I'll run the <DW65>s a bit o' a
circus dance." He was gone at once, but not an instant too soon; the
blacks were already within a hundred yards of them.

Jack continued his course guided by the reports which now rang out at
regular intervals, and he smiled quietly to himself when a confused
jangle of bells sounded away to the southward, and his smile developed
into a hearty laugh when, with howls presumably of delight, the warrior
band stampeded in that direction.

"I think the Shadow knows how to take care of himself," he reflected
contentedly, as he continued his course in peace.

The Shadow's trick was certainly effective. It was also risky, but that
feature seemed rather enjoyable than otherwise to the impetuous young
Australian. Far to the south he sped, jangling the bells at intervals to
draw his pursuers on, and when their noisy yelling sounded too close for
his liking, he silenced the tell-tale alarms and veered off in a
different direction, always taking care to work in towards the camp. A
veritable will-o'-the-wisp he was, and the baffled natives soon tired of
their hopeless chase, no doubt marvelling much at the extraordinary
activity shown by the fleeing camel train!

At the camp considerable consternation was felt over the non-return of
the camel hunters. They had been gone over two hours, before Mackay
ventured to express his fears for their safety.

"The Shadow must have got twisted in his bearings," he said. "The bells
were within a couple o' miles off when they started, and they seem to
have gone further away instead o' comin' nearer."

"Mebbe the cantankerous brutes bolted," suggested Nuggety Dick. "The
Shadow couldn't bush hissel' in creation wi' the old Cross showin' in
the sky."

So, indeed, they all thought, but each of them felt strangely anxious
nevertheless, and when Mackay fetched his rifle from his tent and began
to blaze away methodically, they were not long in following his lead.
The bells had been some time out of range when the first shot was fired,
but suddenly their harsh jangling burst afresh on their ears, and to
their surprise and dismay they seemed to be heading towards the south.

"Keep your popguns going," said Mackay. "The Shadow must have lost his
nerve and got slewed."

So was the young bushman condemned and abused while he pursued his
erratic course, and Jack came in for more sympathy than he would have
appreciated had he been within hearing.

"What in thunder can the howlin' idiot mean by zig-zagging like that?"
exclaimed Never Never Dave, listening to the intermittent peals of the
bells with deep concern. Then faintly over the mulga scrub came the
yells of the discomfited blacks, and at once Golden Flat camp was
aroused to strenuous action; scarcely a word was spoken, each man
gripped his rifle, and almost as one body, they made a wild burst in the
direction from which the alarming sounds had come. And Bob, though
almost in a high fever from the effects of the wound in his head,
entirely forgot his weakness, and kept pace with Mackay.

Silent and grim, like a raging Nemesis, the small company hurried on
their vengeful way; but they had not gone far when they became aware of
a slight commotion in the bush directly in their path, and almost before
they could realize it, the great hulking forms of the camels loomed out
through the darkness, with Jack at their head.

"Well, I'll be kicked! And why isn't ye slaughtered, young feller?"
demanded Nuggety Dick, in helpless amazement. "We never dreamt o' seein'
ye alive again----"

"Where's the Shadow, Jack?" interrupted Mackay.

Jack laughed. "He's acting decoy for the blacks," he said.

The big man seemed to tremble with suppressed emotion.

"And I was blaming him for getting bushed!" he said, in a tone of deep
self-reproach.

A harsh jangle of bells close at hand interrupted further speech, and a
cheery voice spoke from the gloom.

"Say, boss, ye needn't ever be skeerd 'bout me gettin' bushed; but them
camel bells are mighty heavy, an' I'm just about blown out waltzing them
around."

The Shadow approached, gave the bells a final shake, then flung them
with a clatter to the ground. A few words served to explain matters, and
it was with a feeling of devout thankfulness that the party returned
slowly to camp.

"You must never run risks like that again, my laddies," Mackay
admonished quietly, in the midst of the general rejoicings over the
plucky rescue of the camel train.

"Jack and me didn't take no risks," came the gay reply. "We always knew
by their howling when the beggars were coming too close. It's been a
grand picnic for us both, hasn't it, Jack?"

"I wouldn't have missed it for anything," answered Jack, with a chuckle
of keen delight.




CHAPTER V

The Rush at Golden Flat


Dead Broke Dan had been gone a week from Golden Flat on his errand for
stores, and in this time the extent of the "pay gravel" in the different
mines had been fairly accurately estimated. Developments all along the
line proved the existence of a rich but limited layer of the
gold-carrying wash from end to end of the workings. At the Golden
Promise mine the auriferous deposit, as had been anticipated, had
occurred in a considerably deeper drift than in any of the others, the
reason of course, being in accordance with Bob's theory that the sudden
uprise of the old channel would cause an accumulation of the wash
directly on the incline, and so it had happened; the thickness of the
stratum was here nearly four feet, or almost twice that in all the other
claims. Beyond this, however, no direct trace of the ancient waterway
could be discovered; a broad lagoon-like mass of the tantalizing clay
which had so mystified Emu Bill intervened, sparkling and gleaming in
its deceptive beauty until raised to the surface when it unfailingly
relapsed into its muddy, sordid state, to the disgust of all beholders.
This odd formation was found to underlie the genuine gold-carrying
cement in all the shafts, and its presence provided a topic for much
vituperative language.

Until the various chemicals arrived Bob was unable to make any analysis
of the much-abused deposit, but he was never tired of examining samples
of it, powdering them up and applying the fire test in the hope that
whatever refractory gas or element was present, and binding the gold in
an invisible state, might be driven off. He never cared to say much
concerning the results of these experiments, but that he received
undoubted satisfaction from his labours was very evident. He was engaged
roasting some of the fine grains of the clay in a crucible when Mackay
entered the tent on this morning in search of a pick-handle he had
mislaid.

"Well, Bob," said he, "an' are ye gettin' any nearer a solution to that
mystery of Nature?"

Bob silently pointed to the crucible on the small Primus stove from
which dense yellow fumes were issuing.

"Smell that," he said.

Mackay sniffed right heartily, and nearly choked in consequence.

"An' what sort o' a perfume do ye call that?" he demanded, when he had
regained his composure.

"Chlorine," smilingly returned the chemist. "The clay is soaked in it,
and any text-book will tell you that chlorine has a great affinity for
gold."

Mackay became interested at once. "Let me hear your line o' argument,
Bob," he grunted. "This is a matter o' vera considerable importance, an'
I'll be the last to discourage ye in your efforts."

Bob smiled just a trifle sadly. "I haven't been able to work in the
shaft for a week," he began.

"An' ye'll no work in the shaft until that head o' yours is richt
better," interrupted Mackay. "I'm no' so sure," he continued, "whether
I should alloo ye to worry as you're doin' aboot that wretched stuff."

The young man looked gratefully at the speaker, then turned his gaze
once more to the smoking crucible.

"I think I have discovered how to treat it," he said slowly. "The
chlorine must be brought into contact with another gas offering a
greater affinity than gold: on their combination the gold will be set
free in a metallic state, and can be saved in the ordinary way. All we
have to do is to pump hydrogen gas into a vat containing a solution of
the clayey mixture, keep emptying off the slimes, and in time the
residue must be a highly concentrated gold wash. It's not very
difficult, is it? I only need those acids to prove the practical working
of the scheme."

Mackay remained silent for a moment, apparently deep in thought.

"You'll do it, Bob," he broke out eagerly. "Dead Broke should be back
wi' the acids any time now, an' you'll be able to finish your tests; but
I hae no doubt ye'll accomplish what we all wish, an' ye'll deserve your
reward, my laddie."

About noon of the same day Dead Broke Dan was sighted in the distance,
returning with the camel team, much to the relief of all in camp, for he
was already a full day overdue.

"I was a bit skeert that ole Dead Broke had anchored himself in the
township," growled Nuggety Dick, as they all congregated at his shaft to
watch the lumbering train approach.

"If he drove the animals like that all the way," hazarded Never Never
Dave, "he could hiv been here two days ago. Why, the old heathen _is_
forcing the pace."

The camels were certainly travelling at an unusually rapid rate;
heavily laden as they were, they were actually ambling over the sand,
and old Dead Broke Dan was running energetically alongside, plying his
long whip with a will.

"I can't make it out," said Mackay. "Dead Broke knows well enough that
it's dangerous to rush those brutes in that fashion. There must be
something wrong."

Something apparently was wrong, for when the great hulking beasts
staggered into camp, their flanks were heaving convulsively, and their
mouths were flecked with foam. Their driver, too, seemed in the last
stage of collapse.

"There's a rush comin', mates," he panted. "Macguire's gang followed me
out from Kalgoorlie. I tried to shake them off an' doubled back on my
own tracks, but they've got horses and buggies, an' I couldn't lose
them, no matter how I dodged. They camped less'n a mile from me last
night; but I didn't unload the camels, an' scooted about one o'clock in
the morning so as to get in ahead to tell you."

"We couldn't have kept it quiet much longer anyhow, boys," said Nuggety
Dick. "An' I don't think we'd have minded a decent crowd comin' to the
flat, but Macguire's a holy terror, and his gang are a tough party to
handle."

"There's one howlin' satisfaction, mates," laughed Emu Bill. "They'll
get nothin' but that miserable miradgy clay outside our pegs. I kin just
fancy I hear Macguire's words when he sees his gold vanish." He grinned
delightedly at the thought.

Mackay did not say much, he knew that a rush was inevitable, but
Macguire was not exactly the kind of man he would care to have as a near
neighbour. He was a noted bully, card-sharper, and mine-jumper, though
he ostensibly kept an hotel in the township where men of a similar
fraternity were wont to congregate.

"How many are in the crowd, Dead Broke?" he asked.

"'Bout a dozen, I calc'late."

"And we are only eight," mused Mackay.

"You don't think the sneakin' thief will try to jump this here circus?"
ejaculated Nuggety Dick.

"You may just bet your boots the same individual'll no work himsel' if
he can find it already done for him," came the answer. "I shouldna
wonder a bit if we have some trouble. What are you grinning at, you
young baboon?" he demanded, turning to the Shadow, who appeared to find
much cause for merriment in the doubtful state of things.

The Shadow subsided at once. "Man boss," he complained reproachfully,
"does ye think we is a gentle little Sunday-school party, just waiting
to be swallowed?"

Mackay snorted in disgust. "If it werena for these laddies," he said to
himself, "I would dearly enjoy a scrimmage; but I seem to have become
mair cautious since they've been wi' me. It's no richt that they should
see the wickedness o' human nature in its worst aspect a' at aince."

"I see them coming!" cried Bob, who was scanning the horizon closely,
and a dim sand cloud in the far eastward distance was sure enough
evidence that the rush would ere long be in their midst. Soon the
various outlines of horsemen and buggies could be traced amid the
enveloping dust; quickly the frenzied gold-seekers drew near, and wild
halloos mingled with the cracking of whips, and the laboured plunging of
horses' hoofs on the ironshot sand plain. Ahead of the main party,
mounted on a powerful bay horse, which he was cruelly spurring on to its
last effort, rode Macguire, a tall, awkward brute of a man, whose heavy
countenance as he came near, bore the exulting leer of the professional
braggart and bully. At a mad gallop he forced his jaded beast right up
to Nuggety Dick's shaft, then halted with a vicious jerk on the curb
rein, and surveyed the awaiting group with a triumphant grin.

"So you thought you were goin' to run this show yourselves," he sneered
from his position in the saddle.

"I guess you've struck it plumb first shot," calmly returned Emu Bill,
rolling his quid in his mouth with evident relish, and ejecting a streak
of tobacco juice which came dangerously near to finding a resting-place
on the new-comer's boots.

Macguire snarled, and looked round to see if his satellites were near at
hand, and, noting their close proximity, he jumped from his horse, threw
the reins carelessly over a mulga sapling, and examined the stacked wash
on the surface with unconcealed joy.

"An' who was the discoverer o' this bonanza?" he demanded, aggressively,
addressing every one in general.

Nuggety Dick gave a snort of annoyance. "For a mean impertinent swab ye
beat anything I've ever met," said he, in his politest tones. "An' if ye
doesn't take yer miserable carcase clear o' my pegs instanter, ye'll
find what ye're lookin' for in about two shakes o' a muskittie's
eyelid."

At that moment the rest of Macguire's Rush appeared on the scene, and
with boisterous laughter hurried to range themselves by their chief's
side. They were a motley crew, comprising the very worst product of the
goldfields, and they glared at the owners of Golden Flat with
uncontrolled malevolence. Macguire eyed his choice associates with
satisfaction, before responding to Nuggety Dick's peremptory request,
then he turned the flood-gates of his wrath loose on that amiable
gentleman, who listened with dangerous _sang froid_. War was certainly
imminent, but before the actual outbreak had occurred, Mackay left his
position beside Jack, and stepped forward.

"This is my quarrel, Nuggety," said he. "The gentleman was looking for
the discoverer o' the flat, an' I should be sorry if he went away before
makin' my acquaintance."

The tone was quiet almost to mildness, and Jack and Bob marvelled much
thereat; but the Shadow laughed softly to himself.

"Oh, it was you, was it?" blustered Macguire. "An' why in thunder didn't
ye report to me? We might have come peaceably at first, but now we mean
to boost ye out of it. I know ye hasn't registered yer find, for I has
watched the Warden's office ever since you an' them youngsters passed
through the township, an' there's been no notices posted. Now I
calc'late we'll just begin where you leave off, an' we are obliged to ye
for doin' so much work for us. Ain't that right, boys?"

A yell of approbation greeted his words.

"You've made a vera serious error," said Mackay, with unruffled
serenity. "You've neglected to consider that we keep guns in camp, an'
there's twa or three o' them lookin' at ye now. Furthermore, we were
just dyin' for a scrimmage when you popped your ugly head along, an',
though ye beat us by two in numbers, I dinna just feel tremblin' wi'
anxiety over the finish o' the circus. No, no, Macguire, ye canna bluff
this crowd----"

"Does ye know who I am?" howled Macguire. "I'm the champion bruiser o'
the fields, I is."

"And ye look it every time," retorted Mackay. "But before we gang in for
wholesale bloodshed, we'd better settle our personal differences. I hae
objected strongly to your unmannerly inceevility----"

"Ho! ho! ho!" roared the bruiser, rolling up his shirt-sleeves with
professional exactitude. "Now, boys, the funeral is off until I knock
this rooster out."

"Right O!" came the ready response from the hired ruffians, who never
doubted for a moment the all-conquering prowess of their chief.

Nuggety Dick, Emu Bill, Jack, the Shadow, and Bob, quietly ranged
themselves on one side, their hands gripping the butts of the revolvers
in their belts. In the near distance, beyond the windlass, with rifles
resting on the timber for greater steadiness, Never Never Dave and Dead
Broke Dan kept the deadly tubes gazing at Macguire's band, much to these
warriors' disquietude. It had been Mackay's idea to have them thus
prepared; the wisdom of it was already clearly evidenced.

And now Bob and Jack trembled for the safety of their friend. Macguire
was both taller and broader than Mackay, and his short bull neck and
bloated features gave him a decidedly repulsive appearance. But to their
astonishment Mackay's face betrayed not the slightest trace of concern,
though his eyes shone with a strange light. He had taken upon himself
the battle of the entire camp, and he knew it.

With a yell Macguire rushed to the attack, and his right hand lunged
ponderously forward, only to find itself warded lightly aside. Wildly he
attempted to guard with his left; but Mackay's blow came like a
lightning stroke, straight from the shoulder, and was not to be denied.
Macguire staggered under the shock of the concussion, but recovered
himself, and with savage rage struck blindly again and again at his
antagonist's head, only to find his great fists beat the empty air.
Mackay simply warded off the vain strokes, and stood his ground, a grim
smile beginning to dawn on his features. He had discovered the weakness
of his opponent; Macguire's strength was his whole support--one of his
terrible blows would have proved fatal to most men--and so had his
reputation grown! But Mackay's anger burned fierce within him, and he
waited his chance; it soon came. Macguire, aroused to an extraordinary
pitch of ferocity, made again a desperate swinging stroke at his enemy's
head with the usual futile result; but ere he could recover from the
impetus of his foolish action Mackay's great fists caught him full in
the face, one after the other, with a force that hurled the bully over
in the sand. But all was not over yet; the bruiser had evidently no lack
of animal courage. He picked himself up slowly, peered through his fast
closing eyes to locate his enemy, and leaped like a demoniacal savage
once more to the fray. Disdaining to strike the half-blind wretch,
Mackay stood unmoved, and so gave the cunning trickster the chance he
desired. The long, octopus arms of Macguire gripped him tight, and his
breath spurted forth in fierce gasps. A groan of dismay broke from Jack,
and a yell of delight from Macguire's supporters greeted this action.
Now, indeed, it was to be a trial of strength. Backwards and forwards
they swayed, bending, twisting, writhing, stumbling, but through it all
the Shadow noticed with joy how gradually, yet surely, Mackay's brawny
arms were tightening over the great bulk of his antagonist. For a moment
there was a lull, the crucial point had come, and the combatants stood
immovable; the muscles of Mackay's arms strained out like whipcords.
Crack! crack! something seemed to have given way. Mackay relaxed his
hold, and with a groan and a shiver the towering form of Macguire
subsided in the sand and lay inert. Both sides had watched the last
struggle of the giants with breathless interest; and the final collapse
of Macguire aroused from his supporters only a hushed exclamation of
awe. The victor stepped forward to them at once.

"Now, boys," he said pleasantly, "if you like, we'll begin the circus.
Your leader has got a couple or so ribs broken, so you'd better not
count on him much----"

"No! no!" they shouted in unison; and one of them, constituting himself
spokesman for the party, gave vent to their impressions.

"After that," he said weakly, "we don't want no more fight. Let us peg
alongside somewheres. We promise to act straight with you."

A shuddering murmur of approval followed his words. Mackay had indeed
done battle for the entire camp that day.

Then the Shadow broke out. "Didn't I tell you, Jack?" cried he, prancing
around gleefully.

"By the Great Howlin' Billy, I've never seen a fight like that--no,
never," impressively spoke Never Never, coming forward.

Neither Bob nor Jack said a word, their hearts seemed too full for
speech; but Mackay guessed their thoughts.

"It had to be done, my laddies," said he, kindly. "I thought my
fighting days were over; but it wasna to be--it wasna to be."

After that order reigned. Some of Macguire's gang sullenly went off to
peg out claims beyond the Golden Promise Mine; others busied themselves
erecting a huge tent into which their fallen chief was carried, groaning
and cursing by turns. Then the holders of Golden Flat returned to their
labours with buoyant energy, and continued excavating the golden wash as
if nothing untoward had happened to mar the even tenor of their way. Bob
having received the acids he had so eagerly awaited, was soon lost in
the mazes of calculative experiments beside his crucibles and
test-tubes. The Shadow and Jack slogged away with steady persistency at
the bottom of the shaft. Mackay calmly smoked the pipe of peace at the
windlass head, now and again breaking out into unmelodious song to the
great discomfort of all within hearing distance. Indeed, since his
desperate encounter he seemed to have become unusually cheerful; and
Bob, hearing the distracting strains, laughed softly to himself and
pondered deeply on this further illustration of a many-sided nature.
That evening, however, he was destined to be further surprised, for
Mackay, having finished his tea, went quietly to a small
mysterious-looking box which he kept under his bunk, and which neither
of the boys had ever seen him open before, and from a recess within the
lid he extracted--a flute.

"Heavens!" feebly murmured the Shadow, who was present, glaring at the
instrument with exaggerated horror.

Jack laughed outright, but checked himself suddenly when the big man
began to play. Never had he heard sweeter music; the mellow notes rang
out with exceeding softness as the great and somewhat battered fingers
of the musician strayed over the keys. No paltry tune was this, no
music-hall ditty; it was the "Miserere" from Il Trovatore he played, and
with such haunting sweetness that Bob rubbed his eyes and looked at him
in amazement. It was no joke, then, this strange man's professed love of
music, and his thoughts went back to the evening they had spent in
London. The last long-drawn-out note trembled to a finish; and Mackay's
voice broke in on his reverie.

"What do you think o' that, Bob?"

"It was beautiful," said Bob, soberly.

"Ah, my ain whustle canna compare wi' the flute," sighed Mackay,
dolorously, applying his mouth once more to his treasure. Then he
hesitated. "I think I'll play ye that bonnie tune we heard at the
Queen's Hall," said he, reflectively. "D'ye mind what it was, Jack?"

"Of course I do," responded that youth, with alacrity. "It was 'Home,
Sweet Home!'"

The questioner looked grieved. "That sang doesna come into my
_repertoire_ when I'm oot in the bush," he reproved sternly.

"You meant, 'Lo, hear the gentle lark,'" said Bob.

The flautist nodded. "One, two, three, and off she goes," said he; and
at once the liquid strains of Bishop's wonderful music echoed through
the tent, with its trills and cadenzas, and with, it must be confessed,
many variations from the original melody. Ere he had finished nearly all
the camp were clustered at the door; even Macguire's party was
represented. Then the spell was broken. Evidently the volume of sound
created by the flute did not quite satisfy the player's desire for a
fuller burden of song. He laid down the flute. "Watch me catch that top
note," said he, and, with grim desperation, he opened his mouth and
began, "'Lo! hear the gentle la-a-a-a-ark----'"

A yell of horror from the doorway, and a sudden trampling of feet
intimated that the bulk of his audience had taken flight. The Shadow
squirmed in agony, Jack shuddered, and Bob looked pained.

"Ah, weel," grunted the singer apologetically, pausing in his valiant
effort, "I couldna expect ye to appreciate such vera high-class music,
but haud on a bit an' I'll gie ye a verse o' my ain construction, set to
music o' my vera ain composition; it is called 'The Muskittie's
Lament.'"

Straightway he started, and bellowed out this touching little story, in
a voice so raucous that even the parrots fluttering in the scrub around
screamed out noisily in protest.[A] When he had finished, the Shadow and
Jack had vanished, and Bob alone was left to thank him as best he could.

But he was happily spared this call on his prevaricative powers, for the
vocalist did not give him an opportunity of expressing his opinion.

"Ye dinna look exactly overjoyed wi' my singin'," said he, quizzically,
"but ye must admit it's vera effective."

Bob laughed, but did not venture to disagree.

"Ay," continued Mackay, with a chuckle, "my voice has wonderfu' movin'
powers, though, like my whustle, it's mebbe a wee bit trying at close
quarters." He proceeded to the box once more, and, to Bob's surprise,
extricated a sextant from its depths. He gazed at it tenderly for a few
moments, then handed it to his companion, who seized it eagerly, and
examined it with deep interest. It was an instrument which had,
apparently, seen considerable service, for the handle was grooved by
much fingering, and the lacquer on the framework was blistered by the
sun's rays, and altogether bare in places. But the silvered arc itself
was in perfect condition, and the thin coating of vaseline over it
showed that its present owner knew how to take care of the delicate
fabric. Mackay gazed curiously on during the young man's work of
inspection. It was almost dark now in the tent, the last glimmering rays
of the setting sun alighted on the reflecting glasses of the sextant and
danced thereon joyously for a moment, then the heavy gloom of night
fell, and still Bob clutched the symbol of his unuttered desire, while
Mackay seemed wrapt in silent meditation. At length the elder man spoke.

"That was the chief's sextant, Bob," said he, gravely. "It was the only
thing I found near the camp where he and his expedition were murdered."

"I almost guessed that," answered Bob; then he hesitated. "I wish you
would let me try an observation with it," he concluded with earnestness.

"Let you?" cried Mackay. "I want you to do it. Do ye remember," he
continued musingly, "o' me sending you a book on navigation; well, that
was because I wanted to influence your studies in that direction. I
canna say whether I have succeeded or no'----"

Bob laughed grimly. "My father was a sailor," said he. "His brother was
a navigator; and I--I would dearly like to be able to steer a course as
well."

"My lad," said Mackay, "you'll maybe get your wish sooner than you
expect. I brought out the sextant just to sound you, for nae man can say
that Mackay persuaded him against his will; but I see that the same
blood runs in the family. Take the sextant, Bob; I give it to you,
though it is my dearest possession. Handle it carefully; it has proved
true on mony a long weary journey. But mind, I may ask ye to use it in
earnest soon."

Without another word he arose and walked from the tent, leaving Bob
alone in the darkness, his mind filled with rushing thoughts. When Jack
came in, about half an hour later, and lit a candle, he found him in the
same place. Truly the touch of the mystic emblem had aroused in him the
uncontrollable indefinite longing which is the sure birthright of the
wanderer. The call of the bush seemed to echo through his brain, the
boundless horizon beckoned him.

Jack's entry helped to throw off the spell which had gripped him. He
arose and placed the sextant carefully back in its case beside the
flute.

"What on earth is that, Bob?" asked Jack, anxiously. "Not another
musical instrument, surely."

"We'll have a look at it to-morrow, Jack," answered Bob. "It's a sextant
which Mackay has given me."

"Great Scot!" ejaculated the irrepressible youth, "can he use a sextant
too?"

Bob smiled. "I don't know," said he, "but I wouldn't be too sure."

"He is a regular daisy," commented Jack, enthusiastically. "Why, up at
Nuggety's camp, he's explaining to them the theories of music, and I'm
hanged if he hasn't got them half convinced that it is their
uncultivated ear that is at fault when they don't appreciate his
singing."

A commotion from without the tent interrupted them, and the Shadow's
voice shouted loudly on Jack.

"I've just rounded up a real beauty o' a snake at my camp," said he,
when they appeared. "Come along, an' I'll show ye how to crack him like
a whip." And the three departed.

On the following morning Macguire's followers considered it advisable
that their damaged leader should be taken, without further delay, to the
township hospital, and shortly after daybreak a buggy and a couple of
horses were waiting in readiness for the journey. This sudden decision
on the matter was by no means agreeable to Mackay, and he hastily called
a meeting of the claim-holders in order to state his fears.

"You know, boys," said he, "we've never registered these mines at the
Warden's office, as that bully Macguire seems to know, an' our miners'
rights are only good enough so long as we are the strongest party."

"Well, we don't need to try and keep the Flat a secret now," growled Emu
Bill. "We're bound to have half Kalgoorlie alongside us in a day or so."

"Ye don't seem to catch on to our difficulty, boys," continued Mackay.
"If Macguire gets into the Warden's office first, he can simply register
these mines in his own ugly name, along wi' his partners, of course, an'
then, all they've got to do is swear _we_ jumped them, an' we'll get
fired out o' our own claims wi' a squad o' mounted police!"

Simple and open-minded bushmen, they had never thought of this.

"By Jupiter! I believe you're right," cried old Dead Broke Dan.

"But what in thunder is we to do?" complained Nuggety Dick. "If we had a
horse we could beat him; but the camels are too mighty slow."

"Ah, now you've struck it," agreed Mackay. "But ye must remember it's a
seventy-mile dry stretch from here to Kalgoorlie, an' their horses are
pretty well knocked up now. It should take them a good two days to do
it, even if they force for all they're worth."

At this stage the Shadow pushed his way forward. "I knows what Mackay is
thinking," said he; "but I'm the man for the job, an' I'm goin' to do it
too."

"Do ye think ye could manage, Shad?" asked Mackay, earnestly. "I'm no
goin' to mak' a single remark aboot your bushmanship, for you've well
proved your abilities in that direction, but, my lad, it's a job for a
strong man, an' I meant to tak' it on mysel'."

"Ye doesn't know how powerful I is on the trot," said the lithe young
bushman; "an' if it comes to strength, I reckon I is no chicken,
either."

He bared his right arm proudly, and showed the swelling muscles which
his tattered shirt-sleeve covered.

"Why, what does ye mean to do?" demanded Nuggety, like his near
neighbours, somewhat bewildered. "Does ye mean to walk?"

"Give me a water-bag in my fist, and I'll pretty soon show you," came
the quick retort. "I'll bet a tug at old Dead Broke's whiskers that I'm
in before the buggy all right."

It seemed a hopeless plan, yet, owing to the arid and sandy nature of
the country to be traversed, it was not as hopeless as it looked.

"If we let them get away first," said Mackay, "they won't think there's
any need to hurry. Go an' swallow as much water as you can, an' get your
water-bag primed up to the muzzle. Jack, you'd better make enough
sandwiches from that damper of yours to carry the Shadow a couple o'
days."

"Couldn't I go too, Shad?" said Jack, anxiously.

"You're a bit too fresh yet, Jack; you'd want too much water," was the
sententious reply.

Jack turned away without a word to prepare the sandwiches.

A few minutes later the buggy containing Macguire and one of his chosen
associates drove up, and stopped opposite the party, so that the
departing bully might get rid of some of his vituperative eloquence.
When he saw Mackay, his raging madness was painful to witness. Clearly
his enmity, instead of dissolving, had been magnified tenfold by his
humiliation.

"I'll get even with you for this," he yelled, shaking his fist at the
object of his fury; "an' ye won't live long before ye knows it too."

Mackay stepped menacingly towards the buggy. "I ought to have killed ye,
ye meeserable thief," he said; but the man holding the reins was too
terrified to wait longer. With a wild slash of the whip he set the
horses plunging madly across the sand on the back track to the township,
and Macguire, leaning back with livid face, hurled his last shot.

"This country won't be big enough to hold us two!" he bellowed.

Mackay smiled a hard smile. "Then I reckon ye'd better get out of it
while you're healthy," he murmured, as he turned to rejoin his
companions.

FOOTNOTE:

[A] "THE MUSKITTIE'S LAMENT.

     "A bright wee muskittie sat on a tree,
     An' O, it was hungry as hungry could be,
     An' the tears drappit doon frae its bonnie blue ee,
     As it sighed and looked sad for Australia."




CHAPTER VI

The Shadow's Great Effort


The grinding rush of the wheels in the sand had scarcely died away when
the Shadow appeared ready for his journey. He carried a water-bag in his
hand, and his meagre commissariat outfit was tied up in a glazed cloth
slung over his shoulder. He was not impeded by a superabundance of
garments; a torn shirt flung open at the neck, a much frayed soft hat
turned down all around the brim to keep the scorching sun from his eyes,
and a light pair of much-worn khaki pants, held in position by a narrow
belt, completed his sartorial glory. His sockless feet were thrust
loosely into shoes that had, by their appearance, seen considerable
service; he had chosen them because of their once heavy soles being
ground down to comparative lightness. He waited impatiently while Mackay
drew out a rough sketch of the mines and their position, which was to
give the Warden the necessary information for registration.

"And mind, Shadow," said Mackay, handing him the paper amid an
impressive silence, "ye must steer in by the south; it will mean a
longer journey, but if you don't go wide o' Macguire to the extent o'
five miles or so, he's bound to see you, and you could never hope to get
in afore him then."

The Shadow tucked the note carefully away in a lurking corner of his
flowing shirt.

"You leave the circus to me, an' don't worry," he said, with a grin.
"Ta, ta, boys, I'm off. How's this for the Flying Dutchman?" He set his
face to the west and dashed away into the desert at an odd uneven trot.

"He can't keep that up, surely?" said Bob, watching the runner in
astonishment.

"I'll bet he jig-jogs like that all day," said Emu Bill. "He's got the
real bushman's style o' gettin' over ground, he has."

Mackay watched the fleeing figure doubtfully for a time, then a
satisfied look lit up his face as he noted the unerring course the
Shadow was making.

"He'll hit the township straight as a die," said he. "That ugly sinner,
Macguire, was heading too far to north'ard or I'm very much mistaken."

Macguire's associates at the end of the Flat were now observed to be in
a state of considerable confusion. They could not fail to realize that
the mission had been dispatched for one purpose, and they glared after
the disappearing messenger with anger and dismay on their hardened
countenances.

"Keep an eye on them, boys," warned Mackay. "We'll soon know whether we
were richt in our ideas."

He walked back to the tent with Bob, and when they arrived there two of
the suspected gang approached apparently in deep sorrow.

"Why didn't you give your message to Hawkins?" said one. "Though he's
driving Macguire, he'd have done anything you wanted in the township. We
doesn't bear no grudge, we don't."

"The fact is, we don't trust you worth a cent," answered Mackay,
shortly.

At this stage Emu Bill hurried up in a state of some perturbation.
Wholly ignoring the presence of the innocent twain, he burst out--

"There's wan o' them cusses just dodged into the bush carrying a saddle
an' bridle!"

At this the protesting pair seemed to realize that their cunning ruse
was up.

"An' ye can bet," cried the one who had not yet spoken, "that Harkins'll
catch up on the boss afore sundown, an' they'll be in Kalgoorlie by
mornin'. He's goin' to ride Macguire's Furious, he is," he snarled
triumphantly.

He hopped out of the way just in time to avoid being gripped in the
clutches of the man he so wholesomely dreaded; but his neighbour was not
quite so alert, and, as he turned to run, a well-directed kick lent
impetus to his flight.

"I suppose the skunks'll beat us, after all," said Mackay, grimly,
"Their horse bells are sounding quite close. Where's Jack?"

Emu Bill grinned. "I think the young'un anticipated you, Mac," said he.
"He vanished into the bush when he noticed the cuss walking off wi' the
saddle."

"If he can unhitch the bells and drive the horses north a bit, it'll
take friend Harkins a day to find them," grunted Mackay, in great good
humour.

"You can rely on Jack," said Bob, decisively; and just then a confused
jangling of the horse bells rang out, followed by an absolute stillness.

A few moments later the crackling of the bush in the far distance, and
the thudding of many hoofs in the sand, intimated that Jack knew his
work to the letter.

"By thunder!" roared Emu Bill, excitedly. "The youngster has taken off
their hobbles."

So it turned out. Jack had grasped the situation at once when he saw the
man slink off with saddle and bridle in the direction of the horses. His
intuitive powers were wonderfully bright, and his actions followed
quickly on his thoughts.

"I've got to get there first," he muttered to himself, as he dashed
impetuously through the bush.

He found the horses clustered together under the shade of a coolibah
tree. Poor animals, their owners had hobbled their forefeet very tightly
in order to keep them from straying far, and after vainly trying to find
some edible substance amid the inhospitable sands, they huddled together
in a piteous group, and bit nervously at the parched eucalyptus twigs
over their heads. It was a country for camels only--these wiry brutes
can eat anything; but for horses it was a barren wilderness. Jack had no
difficulty in approaching them, and he quickly undid their bell straps
and flung the noisy tell-tales on the ground, but when he attempted to
drive the tired creatures they simply would not move, their hobble
straps were too closely fixed to allow of them even making much of an
effort. There was little time for delay, already the confident whistle
of Harkins sounded perilously near. Jack would have no half measures,
unhesitatingly he undid the binding thongs, and at once the entire mob
with wild neighs galloped off.

"As Mackay would say, it won't be judicious for me to wait here long,"
the wily youth soliloquized. "Let me see, the sun was on my right hand
when I left camp; that means I've got to keep it on my left now." And
he vanished speedily, missing Harkins, the horse hunter, by but a few
yards. His welcome when he returned was hearty in the extreme.

Nuggety Dick laughed uproariously. "Why, look at the brutes," said he,
pointing westward across the plain where the still galloping horses were
visible. "They're right off home, they are. Blow me tight, Jack, I'll
give you one of my best nuggets for that when the battery comes along."

Mackay's tribute was characteristic. "Your power o' observation is
developing real well, my laddie," he said, "an' your calculative
propensities are grand. It's a great thing to hae the gift o'
initiative, Jack. You see, if you had waited to tell me about your plan,
it would hae been too late to act on it. I'll gie ye a tootle on the
flute for that the nicht, I will." And Jack felt more than amply repaid
for his adventure.

Ere long the weary Harkins returned to his associates, still carrying
the saddle and bridle, and feeling very wroth indeed. The disgust and
chagrin of the checkmated crew was full and deep, and they sulked in
their tent all day, nor once again ventured to approach their smiling
neighbours.

And all this time the happy-go-lucky Shadow was plugging along over the
thirsty desert sands, looking neither to the right nor left, yet
instinctively steering a straight course for his goal beyond the distant
horizon. Mile after mile he traversed with dogged determination, nor did
he once falter in his peculiar ambling gait. And the sun rose high in
the heavens, and the burning rays smote fiercely on the crown of the
Shadow's dilapidated hat, while the roasting sands scorched through his
flimsy shoes. Yet still he never halted.

"I'll show them what I kin do," he repeated to himself as he ran, with
savage joy. "I'll show them that the knockabout, hard-up,
down-on-his-uppers Shadow can keep his end up wi' any one." Then the
finer trait would show itself in his musings. "It's Mackay's last rise.
I knows he is all broke up since Bentley went under, an' he's been good
to me. Hang it! I must get in before that cross-eyed, lop-eared bully,"
and his lithe body would spring forward with renewed energy. A long pull
at the water-bag, and a hasty bite at the unpalatable damper he carried
in his little wallet, delayed him scarce five minutes. But when,
crossing a dry gully, a long sand snake wriggled across his path, he
could not resist the temptation of slaying it. "There's two things I
never sees use for in this world," he ruminated, as he set down to work
again, "an' these is snakes an' muskitties. I wonder what old Noah meant
by putting them in the ark.... I must have covered 'bout thirty miles by
now. I wonder if I kin keep it up all night, an'--an' I wonder if my
boots'll hold out."

At sundown he halted to fix his bearings afresh. "I'm afraid I is
gettin' too far north," said he, "an' Mackay warned me to keep to
south'ard. I'd better wait till the Cross gets up. I feel sort o' bushed
without the sun, an' them hanged little stars never seem to be in the
same place. No, I'd be safer to sit tight an' wait for the Cross." He
had another drink from the water-bag, and munched contentedly at his
hard damper for a while; then his head began to nod drowsily, and in a
few moments the Shadow was fast asleep in the sand, his face upturned
to the myriad stars which now began to twinkle in the sky.

How long he slept he knew not, but he awoke with a start, vaguely
conscious of some disturbing element in the air. The Southern Cross
shone radiantly far over the horizon, and the constellation of Orion
glittered placidly in the eastern sky. "I ought to be kicked," said the
Shadow, in intense disgust with himself. "I calc'late it must be after
midnight now, an' I has lost four hours; bother my sleepy old hide." He
arose wearily, and gripped the precious water-bag, but he was no sooner
on his feet than he dropped again with alacrity, and lay flat on the
sand, the muffled sound of hoof-beats had reached his ear, and coming in
his direction.

"I'm a gone <DW53> if they see me," he murmured. "Why in blazes didn't I
keep further to the south?" The Shadow did not doubt for a moment that
it was Macguire and his buggy which was approaching. "The miserable
sweep must have camped to give the horses a spell," he reasoned with
sinking heart. Nearer and nearer came the ghost-like echoes, then
suddenly they stopped, and a plaintive whinny rang out through the
night. It was answered by another, and yet another, but no sound of
voices came to the eager listener's ears. "That is mighty strange,"
thought he. "Macguire should be cursing like a bullock-driver by now. I
wonder what's happened?" He raised himself cautiously on hands and knees
and peered into the eerie gloom, and as he gazed, half a dozen or so
riderless horses came forward at a gentle trot. "Brumbies!" grunted the
Shadow. "Wo-ah, my beauties!" To his surprise they halted, and whinnied
feebly, and the Shadow continued addressing endearing words to them
while he cautiously struggled to his feet. They were not brumbies, that
was certain, or they would have shied off in affright at once; but the
weary youth was not long in discovering what they were, and a chuckle of
huge delight issued from his lips as he at last got his hand on the mane
of one of his midnight visitors, and patted its trembling nostrils.
Indeed he could scarcely contain himself, so deep was the joy he felt;
he wanted to roll over in the sand and howl in his ecstasy, but he could
not very well do that and still keep a grip of his charger's mane, so he
contented himself by indulging in a running commentary on his
extraordinary luck while he quickly unslipped the thin belt from his
waist and deftly insinuated the same into the wondering animal's mouth.
"I wonder how they managed to break their hobbles," said he. Then a
light seemed to dawn on him. "I'll swear Mackay had something to do wi'
it. Or Jack--Jack's got some savvy, he has. The animals was goin'
straight home, they was. Well, I reckon Macguire's Furious will carry
the poor weary blown-out Shadow, whether he wants to or no."

To his annoyance his improvised bridle proved too short to join over the
high arched neck of the commandeered steed, and with a rueful sigh the
resourceful lad proceeded to rip off the sleeves of his shirt and cut
them into ribbons. This operation was conducted under great
difficulties, for Furious now seemed to regret his former weakness, and
was making strenuous efforts to justify its name. He plunged and reared
and kicked viciously, with the result that he startled the other horses
into flight. Then ensued a tug of war; in vain the frantic horse strove
to follow its neighbours; the Shadow's grip on the leathern thongs was
vice-like in its tenacity. Round and round they struggled, but the odd
bridle held fast, and at length the fiery steed was brought to a
standstill. In a trice a thick stranded cord of shirt ribbons was added
to the novel reins, then with a whoop of triumph the daring youngster
leaped to Furious's back and clutched like a limpet.

To ride an intractable horse, bareback, is at no time a very easy
matter, and to ride a noted buckjumper like Furious with a makeshift
bridle and no saddle was a feat which few of the finest horsemen in
Australia would have cared to attempt. But lightly recked the Shadow of
disaster. Born and brought up on a far back station in Victoria, he had
been accustomed to horses since his childhood, and no more daring rider
could be found throughout the length and breadth of the land. Down went
Furious's head between his knees, and his high back curved convulsively,
as he strove by all his fiery tactics to rid himself of his encumbrance.
But the Shadow rocked easily in his perch throughout it all; then,
suddenly asserting the mastery, he took his battered hat from his head,
and with it smote the beast lightly across the ears. For a moment the
infuriated animal stood stock still, trembling in every fibre, then,
with a snort of rage, he stretched out his long neck and, like an arrow
from the bow, darted off across the desert, taking the interposing
gullies at a leap, and crashing through narrow timber belts like a thing
possessed. The Shadow did not once attempt to break its headlong pace,
he knew the weakness of his bridle too well for that; gently,
insidiously, he tightened the pressure on the off rein and brought his
charger round on to the course he wished to go.

"Now I reckon I'm on the rails all right," he said at length, when the
Southern Cross shone brightly on his left, and slightly behind; "but
blow me for a cross-eyed jackass if I haven't forgotten the water-bag!"

His annoyance at this neglect was keen, though he did not seem to
consider that he could not have carried it with him in any case, both of
his hands having been very much occupied at the start in controlling his
unwilling mount. They had cleared the softer desert country now, and had
entered upon the hard-baked, ironshot plains which frequently intervene
in these latitudes, and now Furious showed signs of failing in his
stride, his unshod hoofs were ill able to bear the pressing contact of
the rounded diorite pebbles. Then for the first time the Shadow tested
the strength of the doubtful reins, and pulled steadily and strongly.
They held firm, and the weary steed slowed down to an easy canter, and
finally to a walk.

"Whew!" ejaculated the reckless rider, mopping his damp brow. "I reckon
this one-man circus is a bit trying on the nerves. If the hanged brute
had tripped on a stump, or dived into a snag hole, it would have been
'Good-bye, Shadow, and the crows will weep for ye in the morning.' But
it's a jolly long sight better'n walkin'. Hillo, hillo! what has we
struck now? Wo-ah, my pet lamb, wo-ah."

Out of the darkness, almost straight ahead, the red glow of hot ashes
had become visible. While he watched the gentle night breezes fanned the
dying embers into feeble momentary flame, and there, silhouetted against
the blackness, was the buggy which had left Golden Flat immediately in
advance of the Shadow. The two horses were dimly observable standing
motionless and asleep among the sparse scrub some little way off, while,
wrapped in their blankets beside the fire lay the huddled figures of
Macguire and Hawkins evidently also in deep slumber. The watcher
whistled softly to himself.

"By smoke," he murmured, "them beggars must have covered fifty miles
yesterday. The howlin' sneak has been skeert o' some one comin' after.
Gee whiz! What a be-eautiful shock he'll get----"

His reflections were arrested by a sudden movement of one of the
reclining men, and the harsh voice of Macguire reached his ears as he
strove to awaken his associate.

"Get up, ye dreamin' idiot, an' see if the horses are keepin' handy. I
want to get in when the Warden's office opens in the mornin'."

A drowsy protesting murmur was all the Shadow could hear of the reply.
Then Macguire's unmusical accents were raised in angry abuse.

"Ye doesn't think we can do it?" he snarled. "But I say we shall, though
the horses drop dead when we get there. I'll show that infernal Scotsman
what it means to run up agin Macguire. We'll get a move on by sunrise,
that'll give us three hours to get in by nine o'clock."

He arose painfully to throw some brushwood on the fire, while Hawkins,
grumbling heartily, went in search of the horses. Silently the Shadow
swung Furious's head round, and made a wide detour.

"I reckon ye'll get left this time, ye yelping baboons," he muttered,
when he considered himself well out of range of the now spreading
firelight. "Ye'll move out by sunrise, will ye? I wonder what time it is
now." He surveyed the heavens intently; then his gaze rested on a star
of exceeding brilliance which had made its appearance just over the
horizon. "I calc'late that there shiner is the star Mackay called
Canopus," he said, "an' that means I've just an hour afore the old sun
pops his head up. Now, old thunder and lightning, ye bold bad quadruped,
ye hustled along fur yer own pleasure, I reckon ye can do a bit of a
spurt for mine." He leaned forward and dug his heels into Furious's
flanks; with a bound the noble animal started forward, and once again
the twain proceeded on their headlong course.

The stars one by one vanished from the sky, and a wonderful rosy glow
gradually enveloped the silent bushland; it heralded the approach of
dawn. And now far in the western sky the watchful rider began to
perceive the smoke of the ever active smelters near the township, and
soon the white-roofed houses of the settlement were plainly visible.
Sure enough the Shadow had steered an unerring course. He slowed down to
a walk, and looked cautiously all round. Nothing in the shape of man or
beast was observable in the near distance, but far off in the township
the little street was crowded with miners coming from and going to their
work in the shafts.

"Shadow," murmured the contemplative youth, "I reckon ye'd better get
off an' walk if ye doesn't want to get collared for horse stealing."

He prepared to slide down from his perch, but just then Furious, having
recognized his own stable so comparatively close at hand, felt imbued
with fresh energy. He pricked up his ears, gathered his feet together
for one ferocious buck, and was off like the wind. The Shadow sat in the
sand where he had been unceremoniously deposited, still gripping fast
the broken ribbons of the bridle which had served him so well, and gazed
reproachfully at the departing steed.

"Ye're a mean, ungrateful hoss," he cried after it, severely. "After me
takin' ye back to your own stable, too, an'--an' I didn't think there
was a kick left in you." Words failed him, and he gathered himself up,
and weary and sore and stiff walked slowly into the township.

It was about eight o'clock when he entered the main street which was
still an hour before the Warden's office opened; but the Shadow had no
intention of delaying his mission an instant longer than he could help.
A lively memory of Macguire's emphatically spoken resolve to arrive at
nine compelled him to adopt unusual tactics. Heedless of the strange
glances cast at him by the ultra respectable gold-mining fraternity, he
made his way to the Exchange Hotel, where, as every one knew, the Warden
was in the habit of breakfasting, and hesitating not an instant, he
entered the doorway and turned into the fashionable room reserved for
the cream of the goldfields' aristocracy.

But his dilapidated attire and general aspect was too much for the
proprietor of the establishment, for it must be remembered that the
Shadow's shirt had already been largely used in the manufacture of
bridle reins. His toes, too, were peeping from sundry crevices in his
boots, and from head to foot he was covered with the grime and dust of
his long desert journey.

"What do ye want in here, ye young scarecrow?" demanded that important
personage, laying an unfriendly grasp on his visitor's shoulder.

The Shadow sidled round, leaving another part of his unfortunate garment
in the hands of the spoiler.

"I want to see the Warden," he cried loudly, his temper considerably
ruffled, "an' I'll flatten ye out if ye try to stop me.... It's a
matter o' life an' death," he added impressively.

"I am the Warden, my lad," spoke a kindly voice from the end of the
room, "but I'm not a doctor. Let the boy come up, Jackson"--this to the
proprietor. "Good honest sand won't hurt any one, and you know water is
scarce in this drought-stricken country. Why, the man's hurt!" The
kindly official was gazing at a nasty gash on his visitor's bare arm
from which the blood was slowly trickling.

The Shadow looked and noticed his wound for the first time.

"It must have been that buster I got that did it," he reflected quickly;
"but I can't very well bring the horse into this here conversation."
Aloud he said, "Oh, that's nothin'; I tripped on a stump in the dark,
that's all."

The Warden examined the rent again closely and smiled incredulously.

"All right, young man," said he; "now fire along with your story, for I
must be over at the office in half an hour."

There was no one else in the room at the moment, so pulling Mackay's
sketch plan of the mines from its hiding-place and putting it on the
table before the Warden, he reeled off the story of the finding of
Golden Flat and the attempted jumping of the mines by Macguire and his
party. The Warden listened patiently through it all, nor did he once
interrupt the narrator.

"So that's where the redoubtable Macguire went the other day," he
commented, when the Shadow had finished. "And Mackay dished him at his
own game, did he? I tell you what, young fellow, I'd have given a fiver
to see that fight, I would."

"An' it would hiv been worth it," agreed the Shadow, complacently. "But
say, is ye goin' to make the claims right for the boys at Golden Flat?
Macguire'll be along in a minute----"

"Stop right there, my lad. You've done your mates a great service by
getting in first, for if Macguire had seen me before you I would have
had no option but to make out the leases in his name. But when you come
to me from men like Mackay, Emu Bill, and Nuggety Dick, pioneers every
one, and tell me the story you have done, I feel that my language won't
be full enough to express my feelings when I see that scoundrelly
trickster, Macguire. But come, tell me how you managed to get in ahead
of him. You know I can scarcely swallow that yarn about walking all the
way. Why, it must be close on an eighty-mile trail!"

Then the Shadow unburdened himself. "I was a bit skeert o' bein' boosted
up for horse stealin'," he explained finally, "so I climbed off the
savage critter 'bout half a mile back, an' blow me, if he didn't do a
buck at the last minute an' landed me on my back instead o' my feet. I
reckon that's how I got this here scratch."

The Warden rang a small handbell on the table, and in due course the
landlord appeared.

"Jackson, let this young man have breakfast. He's come a long way, and I
guess he needs it." Then, when the man departed, "How were you to know
they weren't brumbies?" said he, quizzically.

A noisy demonstration in the street now attracted their attention, and
looking out through the window, behold, there was Macguire's buggy
proceeding past at a walk, though the lather of foam on the horses'
heaving flanks showed at what pace they had been driven. Round the
slowly moving conveyance several men were clustered, and to them
Macguire was talking eagerly, and apparently much to their satisfaction,
for at intervals they broke into lusty cheers.

"These are some more of the loafers and deadbeats of the place," said
the Warden. "Macguire will be telling them of his new discovery. Well,
it's nearly nine o'clock, I must be off. Just sign your name across this
plan of yours; yes, that's right. Now I'll just scribble a line
underneath." He took a blue pencil from his pocket and wrote hastily,
"Handed to me, the Warden of the Eastern Goldfields District, duly
certified, at 8 a.m., August --th, 1899." This he signed. "Now, I guess
that's all right," he said cheerily, reaching for his hat, "and I don't
suppose I need tell you, young man, that some one may be thirsting for
your gore before long."

The Shadow grinned. "Let him thirst," said he. "I reckon I kin bounce
any man o' the crowd exceptin' the boss bruiser hissel', and I calc'late
Mackay's fixed him safe enough for a day or so."

The Warden departed, and the light-hearted youth attacked the breakfast
which was brought to him with the ardour borne of a long fast and an
extremely hearty appetite.

While he was thus engaged, his erstwhile enemy, in the shape of Jackson
the hotel proprietor, came in and sat down beside him.

"I say, young 'un," he began in amiable tones, "did I hear you say you
were one of Mackay's party?"

"You didn't, unless you were listening at the door," came the quick
response.

Jackson's brows contracted; but he laughed not unpleasantly.

"There's no call for you to be so mighty slick wi' your speech," he
said. "I was in the passage way, and heard you mention the name of an
old friend of mine, but I was not listening at the door. Why, Mackay
stayed with me a night when he passed through about a month or so ago.
He and I were mates in the good old roaring days."

The Shadow's face assumed an expression of grave concern.

"I climbs down, boss," said he, contritely. "I thought you might have
been trying to pump me for Macguire's benefit."

Jackson uttered an expression of deep disgust. "Why, that skunk! I
wouldn't be seen dead alongside o' him. He's the meanest, rottenest----"

The Shadow bolted the final portion of his breakfast in a hurry, and
held out a grimy paw. "Shake, boss," he said laconically. They shook;
and the now refreshed youth went once more into the history of Golden
Flat, retailing with gusto the wonderful encounter between Macguire and
Mackay. "His silly old bones cracked like pipe shanks," he concluded,
with reminiscent accurateness.

"By thunder!" ejaculated the appreciative listener, aroused to a sudden
sense of duty. "That broken-ribbed bruiser will have your life if he
sees you now. How do you mean to get back?"

"Walk," answered the Shadow, shortly.

"Walk be hanged. I'll lend you a horse; but you must look slippy an'
get away. I will come out myself an' see if I can get a decent claim
before the whole population rushes you; I can fetch the horse back when
I come." He arose hurriedly, evidently intent on seeking out a steed
right away, but at the door he stopped and looked back. "What was that
life-and-death racquet you worked on my tender feelings?" he asked
sternly.

"Dead sure thing," returned the Shadow, unabashed. "If Macguire had got
ahead o' me, Mackay would have squelched the life outen him first
chance. See?"

Jackson evidently saw, for he departed on his quest, laughing heartily.

Left to himself the Shadow carelessly walked out into the street, and as
luck would have it blundered right into the trouble his friends had been
so anxious for him to avoid. Returning from the Warden's office came
Macguire and his aide-de-camp driving furiously, and the roar of pent-up
anger which burst from the bully's lips on seeing the imperturbable
Shadow step forth from the hotel would have done credit to a full-grown
grizzly bear that had just been cheated of its supper. The buggy stopped
with a jerk, and as if by magic a motley throng crowded round.

"That's him! that's the young demon!" howled the discomfited man in a
perfect paroxysm of rage. "He stole my horse, he--he--get out and kill
the young cub, Hawkins. Get out I say!"

"If I were you I reckon I'd sit tight," advised the Shadow, serenely. "I
could pretty well squash you in one act, I could."

And Hawkins was evidently of the same opinion, for he absolutely refused
to make any movement. With a baleful glitter in his bloodshot eyes,
Macguire himself stepped down; had the great hulking brute but known
it, he was at that moment no match for his lithe and muscular adversary,
who, in his conscious strength, stood his ground unafraid. But there
came a sudden interruption from the outside of the interested crowd.

"None of that, Macguire, or I'll be forced to explain some things you
won't like."

It was a sharp authoritative warning, and it issued from the Warden who
now pushed his way to the front.

"He stole my horse," began the baulked ruffian in a voice hoarse with
suppressed passion.

"That's too thin, sir. From what I have heard, all your horses returned
home of their own accord this morning. In any case, if you have a
complaint to make, the public street is not a court house."

A suppressed cheer broke from some of the bystanders, who had no cause
to love Macguire. He scowled fiercely at them as he climbed back to his
seat.

"I'll get even with you, you young thief, when there are no interferin'
Wardens about," he cried as he drove away, glaring with impotent rage at
the object of his exceeding wrath.

The Shadow smilingly waved him a polite adieu.




CHAPTER VII

Bob's Triumph


It was three days after the Shadow's departure. The sun was shining
fiercely on Golden Flat, and its scintillating rays reflected from the
white mullock heaps at the various workings caused the eyes of the
miners when they came to the surface to quiver and close painfully. The
air was filled with dancing sand particles, and they shimmered
kaleidoscope-like in the intense heat haze which rose and fell on the
surface of the land like the waters of a boundless ethereal sea. The
regular thud, thud of picks resounded loudly from the end of the lead
where Nuggety Dick and his brawny compatriots were doggedly digging out
the golden gravel, and away at the other end of the field Macguire's
satellites made noisy din as they busied themselves sinking several
shafts over the supposed trend of the mysterious channel.

The weather had been excessively hot since the Shadow left, and this
fact had done much to restore the spirits of the gang, for, judging from
their own feelings, they considered that the energy of Mackay's
messenger would be spent long before he could hope to reach the
township. At the Golden Promise the windlass was deserted, and the red
symbol hung limp overhead. But it was not lack of energy that had
occasioned this apparent lapse of duty. Mackay and Jack had been in the
tent all morning watching Bob's final experiments with the refractory
clay formation which were to decide whether or no the great bulk of the
Flat's treasure could be saved to them. Bob's head was now quite better,
but prolonged study in a clime which is not adapted for acute mental
effort had made his young face appear drawn and haggard, yet his eyes
shone with the light of enthusiasm as he busied himself with his rather
crude appliances and set them in order for a last conclusive test.
Mackay had hastily constructed a small vat for him, made from the
hardest wood to be found in the bush, with an overflow tap some halfway
up its height. This the young chemist now quarter filled with the
crushed compound to be tested, and made up the level with water, to
which he afterwards added some salt.

"It will ensure its conductivity," he explained; but neither Mackay nor
Jack were much enlightened, so they held their peace. Next a rubber
tube, with an oddly-conceived wooden shield on its exposed extremity was
thrust into the receptacle, then a small bottle containing some liquid
which bubbled and effervesced alarmingly, was brought forward, and its
loose nozzle connected to the free end of the tube.

"A simple method of generating hydrogen," said Bob dreamily, "just iron
pebbles and very dilute sulphuric acid." Mackay ventured a non-committal
grunt, but Jack's face now showed keen appreciation. Lastly the two
wires of a very small electric battery--Bob's own manufacture--were
connected to corresponding metallic sheets lining the opposing ends of
the vat. "That is merely as an added assistance to help the decomposing
of the stuff into its elements," muttered Bob; then he fixed the nozzle
of the hydrogen generator tightly and stepped back.

At once a gurgling boiling sound arose from the vat, and its contents
swelled up in bubbling circles of slime and soapy ooze. Mackay, obeying
a motion from Bob, hastily pulled out the overflow tap, and so caused
the more solid matter within to subside. Again Bob loaded the vat, and
again Mackay allowed the foaming mass to overflow, and never a word was
spoken. The operation was repeated until fully a hundredweight of the
refractory substance had been utilized, and by this time the floor of
the tent was aswim with the dense oily scum let loose.

"That should be enough to calculate on," said Bob. "And now comes the
crucial point." He undid all connections and handed the muddy box to
Mackay, who took it silently, and emptied the coarse sandy residue into
an awaiting gold-pan.

"It's lost its puggy nature, anyway," he commented, pouring on it some
water from a kerosene tin. He gave the pan a rapid swirl, then an
oblique turn, and gasped. The bottom of the basin was literally covered
with a thin film of the finest imaginable golden grains, which blazed
and sparkled in the penetrating sunlight!

Bob looked and heaved a sigh of profound thankfulness. Jack looked, and
celebrated his joy by whooping like a red Indian. Mackay looked and
looked, indeed, he did not once take his eyes off the dazzling
spectacle. Bob guessed his fears, and at once dispersed them.

"It's the genuine article this time," he said with assurance. "If it was
going to melt away it would have done so in the acid solution; but the
fact is it has just been set free from the solution, and so is now as
stable and tangible as the sands of the desert."

The rough, horny handed pioneer set the pan down on the floor, and wiped
the beaded perspiration from his forehead, then he reached out his great
fist and took Bob's hand in a fervent grasp.

"It's no' often I have to acknowledge a better man than mysel'," he said
grimly; "but I must admit you've knocked the wind clean out o' me wi'
this grand process o' yours. Why, my laddie, it means fortune for you in
the years to come, an ever growin' fortune, for ye can charge what ye
like for your discovery. An' you little mair than a youngster, too! Man,
Bob, you've got a held that any professor might well envy."

Bob laughed right heartily as he returned the elder man's grip. The
tension on his nerves had gone, and he felt almost constrained, like
Jack, to shout in his gladness.

"If it means fortune, I shall refuse to take more than my third of it,"
he said, with grave emphasis. "This is a partnership affair. I'd rather
break the whole concern up now than make a halfpenny that you two didn't
share." Then he gave utterance to a firm, fixed belief, which had done
much to sustain him during his intricate studies of the deceptive
formation. "As for my youth," he continued, with a smile, and addressing
himself more directly to Mackay, "I won't allow that that should entitle
me to any credit, for the same brain is with us always, and, surely,
when it is young, and fully developed, it should be able to grasp and
evolve theories which, when older, it would hesitate to accept. The
beaten track is so hard to forsake when one grows old in text-book
experience. If the ordinary science professor came along here now and
examined my theories concerning this stuff and its treatment, without
being shown their proof in practice, he would call them absurd and
irrational. And why? Because I have gone wide of all precedent and
text-book knowledge, and treated the compound for gold in an unstable
state, and in that unstable state it is not supposed to exist." The
young man spoke clearly and logically, yet with an unusual twinkle in
his keen blue eyes.

When he had finished, Mackay ventured a word of admonition.

"Too much study when the brain is young, Bob," said he, "is vera
dangerous indeed, though I quite agree wi' you in your line o' argument.
Young genius, hooever, blossoms an' dees like the flowers of the
spring--they never reach their summer; so the auld fossilized,
follow-my-leader blockheads exist and flourish an' are aye wi' us. But
I'll see that ye dinna work oot any more scientific problems for a bit.
It'll be a grand relaxation after this for you to study the beauties o'
Nature as shown in the Never Never country back here." He laughed
sardonically, and waved his hand towards the unknown east.

"I'll be with you whenever you are ready," answered Bob, eagerly.

"And I'll bet you won't shake me out of it," spoke up Jack; and Mackay
was comforted.

The sound of approaching footsteps was now heard outside the tent.
Mackay hastily seized the gold pan, and placed it out of sight.

"Not a word aboot the discovery," he advised. "It will keep for a bit,
until we hear what Macguire's tactics are."

A second more, and Emu Bill popped his head inside. "Hang ye, Mac,"
said he, "I've nearly burst myself hollerin' down that shaft o' yours. I
didn't think you'd be loafin' round at this time o' day, I didn't."

"What's that you've got in your fist?" asked Mackay, evading all
explanations, and glancing at a huge, greyish fragment which Emu Bill
was carrying abstractedly about.

"Oh--that? That's another specimen I wanted to show ye. The gold in it
fairly howled at me down the shaft; but there ain't enough in it now to
fill a muskittie's eye. All my wash has made into the humbuggin' stuff
now. I'll have to give it best, boys, I will."

The resigned melancholy of his voice worked strangely on the feelings of
Bob and Jack, and they gazed questioningly at Mackay, who nodded.

"Ay, show it to him, Bob," said he. "I think the Emu kens well enough
hoo to haud his tongue."

"My goodness, mates," faltered Bill, in an awed whisper, when he saw the
pan, "that is an almighty fine prospect. I reckon it must be
twenty-ounce stuff. Where in thunder did ye get it?"

"It came from your shaft, Emu," said Bob. "It's the same deceiving
miradgy humbugging material as that you've got in your hand. I've just
found out how to bring back the gold after it fades away."

Emu Bill stared in amazement. "Will somebody kindly kick me?" he
murmured feebly. "Is my sight goin' back on me again, or is it a real
honest fact that hits me on the optic nerve?"

But he was soon led to understand that the gold in the pan was no
delusion of the senses--that it was indeed a solid, substantial
quantity.

"I takes off my hat to you, Bob," he said, with a little catch in his
usually strong voice; and he suited the action to the word. "This'll
mean new life to the whole Flat; an' I hope it'll spell fortune to you,
my lad. What a pity Macguire's crowd got hitched on alongside the Golden
Promise. They'll hit it every time, most likely; an', hang me! if they
deserve it."

"We'll keep quiet aboot this discovery until we see how the bold
Macguire tackles on to the mirage," said Mackay. "The meeserable thief
may have jumped our ground in the Warden's office, for a' we know."

Emu Bill grasped the situation at once. "I'm a thick-head," said he. "Of
course that bounder doesn't know; an' he won't know from me nuther. Mums
the word, it is; an' what a howlin' joy it will be to see Macguire
clutch on to the mirage. But I'll bet my boots, Mac, that the Shadow has
busted up his claim-jumping game. I knows the young beggar, I does."

"An' so do I," said Mackay. "But I'll no blame him all the same if he
canna accomplish the impossible."

It was now well after midday, and Emu Bill departed to prepare his
lunch.

"I guess it's about time we had something to eat too," said Jack, who
had been of that opinion for over an hour, and the three sallied out.

Jack was an expert at boiling the billy and making tea, and Mackay had a
wonderful knowledge of the art of bush cookery, so that between them
they always contrived to make a fairly palatable repast, notwithstanding
the unvaried nature of their stores. Bob generally carried the water, or
unearthed from their hiding-place the few enamelled cups and plates
necessary; but, as he said himself, his assistance in matters culinary
would never have been missed. On this occasion he amused himself taking
altitudes of the sun with his cherished sextant, while his companions
attended to the more practical affairs. In one direction--slightly north
of west from the camp--the open desert could be traced without
interruption in the shape of scrub or hillocks, until it merged into the
distant horizon. Bob had discovered this two days before, when he first
endeavoured to make use of Mackay's gift, and he knew that it was just
about one o'clock in the afternoon that the sextant reflectors would
bring the sun down to this level line, and so give a true declination
without the use of an artificial horizon. He ogled away in this
direction now, keeping time by Mackay's old but trusty chronometer which
lay on the sand before him, until Jack's call of "tucker"--which is the
bush synonym for all sorts and conditions of meals--caused him to seek
his wonted place at the open-air table.

"There is a dot or speck on the sky-line which I can't make out," he
said, placing the sextant down carefully at his side. "I don't remember
of it being there yesterday."

"Perhaps it's a tree grown up like Jonah's gourd," laughed Jack. "Have
some more tea, Bob; and you'll see two trees next time you look!"

A little later Mackay lolled back in lazy satisfaction. "I believe," he
said with a chuckle, "that I'm just in the mood to gie ye another verse
o' 'The Muskittie's Lament.' I see Jack's no feenished, so I'll be sure
o' him listening to my masterpiece this time." He lifted up his voice
and sent forth a doleful wail as a preliminary; then, noting the grieved
countenances of his audience, he relented. "I'll get my flute an' play
ye a bit frae the 'Bohemian Girl' instead. I'm no' so sure that I could
tackle that high note in 'The Muskittie's Lament' on a fu' stomach."

He arose and walked to the tent, returning almost immediately with his
instrument. But before he sat down his eye happened to glance over the
unbroken track towards the west, and a frown settled over his features.

"Your obstruction on the sky-line was a man on horseback, Bob," said he;
"I hope he's no' another professional fighter, wha wants me to chastise
him into a humbler spirit."

Since the arrival of Macguire's party a further influx from the outside
world had been daily expected, for news of gold "strikes" travels
quickly, and the sudden exodus of nearly a dozen men from a
comparatively small centre could only be construed in one way.
Therefore, little more than passing interest was paid to the approaching
horseman, who was yet a considerable way off, and Mackay, squatting down
on the sand, blew at his flute right merrily, and promptly forgot all
about him. The boys, too, quickly became enthralled with his melody,
though with them there was always the shivering dread that the flautist
would burst into song, and so break the spell that bound them. Many and
various were the airs he played, but at last he sought solace in the old
Scotch song, "Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon," and the feeling which
he managed to infuse into the instrument was simply wonderful.

"Ay, my lads," said Mackay, when he had finished, "there's naething like
the auld Scots sangs for awakenin' kindly memories o' the land we're
aye so glad to get away from. I'm no so sure, mind you, that it isna
good fur us whiles to have a wholesome, tender sentiment gruppin' at the
strings o' oor cauld hearts, an' playing strange music thereon; it
straightens oor backs, an' gies us a grander sympathy----"

He ceased his flow of eloquence, and assumed a listening attitude of
intense eagerness. Faintly over the plains had come the sound of a voice
raised in cheerful song.

"Our visitor seems in a happy mood," said Bob, turning to look.

Mackay grunted, Jack laughed outright, for distinctly through the still
air came the staccato refrain--


     "A--bright--wee--muskittie--sat--on--a--tree."


The horseman was coming forward at an easy trot, jerking out the
plaintive strains of Mackay's pet ditty to the novel time of his steed's
clattering hoof-beats. As yet he was too far distant to be plainly
distinguishable, but the song was enough for Mackay.

"It's that confounded Shadow wha's murderin' that bonnie verse," said
he; "but how in the name o' goodness can he be back already? An' he's
got a horse, too. A good hundred and fifty miles in three days. Well,
well----"

At this stage, Nuggety Dick, Emu Bill, Dead Broke Dan, and Never Never
Dave made their hasty appearance, all in a state of extreme excitement.

"I do believe it's the Shadow!" cried Nuggety.

"It's the Shad, right enough," grinned Jack; "don't you hear him?"

Louder swelled the melancholy chorus--


     "A bright wee muskittie----"


"Confound that pestilential muskittie!" roared Mackay, in high dudgeon,
amid the laughter of his companions. "My poetic inspiration will be fair
destroyed after hearin' my gem o' beauty abused in such a manner."

But his wrath simmered down speedily as the redoubtable Shadow rode up,
travel-stained and weary, his sole upper vestment still further torn and
bedraggled, so that it clung to him only in shreds and patches.

"I reckon I has had a daisy time," he said lightly, slipping from the
saddle. But the effort of his long journey had told on his numbed limbs,
and he staggered and would have fallen had not Mackay's ready grip
supported him.

"Come and have something to eat, you young rascal," said the aggrieved
composer. "You can tell us your news afterwards."

Jack even now had tea ready for the wayfarer, but the wiry youth refused
to be pampered.

"Well, boss," said he, "I'm only a bit stiff, that's all. Everything's
all right. I got in ahead o' Macguire by an hour, an' fixed up with the
Warden like a streak. I has had a great time----" And he would have
begun a narration of his experiences right then, had not Jack insisted
on his having his tea while it was warm.

It would be difficult to express the satisfaction that was felt over the
Shadow's successful journey, and when the lad had finished his meal, and
told of his numerous adventures on the route and in the township, not
one among them but felt that the young bushman had proved his worth in
no uncertain degree. But it was Mackay's hearty "Well done, my laddie,"
that seemed to give him greatest pleasure, and he cast about him for
some means of showing his gladness.

"I was practisin' your song as I came along," he announced brightly.
"It's a rattlin' fine song, it is. I like it best where the
muskittie----"

He opened his mouth for a preparatory howl, then, noting the stern
glance cast at him by the man he desired to propitiate, he subsided in
dismay.

"Ye dinna need to intensify your original offence, young man," quoth the
aggrieved one, solemnly. "I heard ye slaughterin' that puir wee
muskittie about a mile off. There's an auld and true proverb which says:
'Fools rush in whaur angels fear to pit doon their feet.' Are ye no
aware that that song is set for an angelic tenor voice like mine, an' no
at a' suited for that bark o' yours, which is like the laboured croak o'
a burst bassoon? Never mind," he continued magnanimously, "I'll forgie
ye, an' I'll mak' ye up a touching wee song for yersel' some o' these
days."

The culprit shuddered at the terrible threat, then hastily departed with
Bob and Jack to talk of subjects more pleasing to their common fancy.

All this time Macguire's motley crew had been eyeing the group from the
vantage-point of one of their shafts, and that their feelings were
anything but pleasurable was very plainly evident. They could not
understand the early return of the messenger, but they guessed correctly
enough that he must in some way have baulked their chief's plans, and
their disappointment was keen.

Events in the history of Golden Flat happened quickly now. Early next
morning, Jackson, of the Exchange Hotel, weighed in with several horses
and a buggy. He was accompanied by three well-known prospectors, whom
Mackay and his companions welcomed heartily.

"We need a few decent miners here badly," said he to them. "Just peg out
at the end o' the lead; your chances are pretty good there yet." To
Jackson he whispered a word of advice. "I've an idea," said he,
mysteriously, "that the ground next the Golden Promise will be abandoned
in a day or so. I should like to do ye a good turn, if only because o'
your kindness to the Shadow, so I'm givin' ye the hint."

A suggestion on such an important matter connected with a new field was
as good as a law unto Jackson.

"I'll wait about then, Mac," said he, "and if I can do anything in your
interest afterwards, you can bet your shirt it shall be done."

Another day brought a fresh number of excited gold-seekers to the Flat,
and then they came so regularly that a plainly marked track quickly
connected the camp with Kalgoorlie. Before the week was out, the
population of Golden Flat had increased to a hundred, and still gaunt,
bearded miners came trooping in, and spread themselves promiscuously
throughout the surrounding country in the hope of being able to catch on
to the invisible channel. Some arrived on foot, many having merely the
uppers of their boots left to them, on reaching their destination; and
to see these men marching stubbornly onward over the burning desert,
carrying their entire paraphernalia on their backs, and their eyes
agleam with hungry desire, affected Bob strangely. His extremely
sensitive nature quailed at the thought of such indomitable energy being
rewarded only by bitter disappointment, for he knew well that only a
small proportion of their number could hope to benefit. Buggies,
bicycles, and horses all rolled up; and then came a great heavy waggon,
drawn by a tugging, straining camel team. It stopped opposite the Golden
Promise mine, and one of the twain who accompanied it, a lean and lanky
corrugated-faced individual, stepped forward and interviewed Mackay.

"Any use stickin' up a battery here, mate?"

"Well, I calculate between us we can give you nearly a thousand tons o'
wash, but I couldn't promise what more."

"That's good enough for us," responded the sprightly battery owner, and
he turned to his awaiting companion. "Up she goes, Jim," said he.

They sought a suitable site some little way off, where the chances of
striking water at no great depth promised favourably, and before the day
was done Golden Flat battery was almost ready to begin work.

"They'll get a bit o' a shock when they tackle the miradgy clayey
stuff," Mackay murmured, as he watched the enterprising builders, "but I
don't suppose they'd believe me if I told them about it. Anyhow, we can
realize now on what we've got on the surface. For the rest, we must
trust to Bob's discovery."

It would be difficult to imagine the metamorphosis the quiet Flat
underwent in that short week. Tents scattered everywhere, and the air
was never free from the shattering roar of exploding gelignite, which
indicated how earnestly the new-comers were endeavouring to bottom on
their claims.

During this strenuous period in the life of the Flat, work at the
Golden Promise mine proceeded surely and steadily, and the wash-dirt was
accumulating in great piles at the shaft head. In view of the watchful
eyes of a section of the community given to legitimate claim jumping,
the Shadow had gone back to his own workings, where, by the occasional
assistance of Emu Bill, he succeeded in excavating his ground to
excellent purpose. Bob now took his old place in the subterranean
chamber of the mine, though Mackay was loth indeed to permit it.

"I would rather see ye riggin' up the process on a big scale," he said.
"Still, it's maybe just as well to keep it quiet for a bit, until we see
what happens when the loafing gang next us bottoms on the mirage."

Bob thought so too. His sympathies were all indeed with the hard-working
miners who were battling away so persistently at the remote ends of the
Flat; but to confer a benefit on the men who would so meanly have stolen
his own and companions' holdings! It was scarcely natural that he should
view such an idea with any favour, especially when there were many
honest toilers around who might have a chance to secure a portion of the
ground held by the gang should they decide to abandon it, for their pegs
confined a nine-man allotment, an area which, with the claims of their
own party, practically covered the known auriferous ground of the Flat.

"If the beggars once bottomed on that deceptive compound," said he,
grimly, to himself, "I don't think they would wait much longer. The gold
that vanisheth would be too much for them."

But Macguire's satellites in no way hurried the sinking of their many
shafts, indeed, it soon became apparent that they were rather retarding
operations for a purpose. Jack was one of the first to notice this odd
dilatoriness.

"They've had three misfires in the shaft next to us to-day," said he, as
Mackay and Bob emerged from their labours one evening. Jack had been on
windlass duty, and so from his high post could not fail to observe the
progress made during the day on the mines in his near vicinity.

"I wonder what they are up to?" remarked Bob, thoughtfully. "They ought
to have bottomed some days ago, judging by the level and trend of the
drift in the Golden Promise."

But their scheme was simple enough, as it turned out. Jackson
unconsciously explained it away that same night while he was talking to
Bob by the camp-fire.

"Your neighbours have offered to sell me one of their claims for £1000,"
said he. "They haven't struck the wash yet, but they say, judgin' from
your ore on the surface, theirs must be as good, if not better, when
they hit it."

"Oh, that's their idea, is it?" commented Mackay, who had been
listening. "I'm no' denyin' that it's a good plan in some cases for both
sides, an' I believe they are perfectly honest accordin' to their
calculations, but----"

He shook his head decisively.

"Why, what do you think is the matter?" asked Jackson. "Haven't they a
good chance of striking the channel?"

Mackay laughed. "They'll hit the channel plumb enough," said he; then he
hesitated. "You haven't been down our shaft yet?" he added. "But I'll
take you below in the morning, and show ye something that'll surprise
you. You're no' half a bad sort, Jackson, and you and me have worked
together before, otherwise I wouldna say a single word aboot the
concern, though I admit freely I have no goodwill towards the meeserable
crowd next to us."

The tactics of the objectionable party were, after all, but the tactics
of the non-mining element on all goldfields, who invariably prefer to
sell a chance rather than take even remote risk of disaster. The true
gold-miner is built differently; to him his chance is everything, the
whole glamour of his life lies in its tantalizing uncertainty, and poor
and needy though he may be, he must pursue Nature's elusive treasure to
the end, be it bitter or sweet.

A fortnight had elapsed since the Shadow's return, and Golden Flat
thrived and grew apace. The crashing rattle of the ever-active
stamping-battery made day and night alike hideous. A saw-mill, too, had
appeared on the scene, and its characteristic din was added to the
prevailing discords. Deep wells had been sunk, tapping only strongly
brackish water, but a condensing plant was almost immediately
established to purify this sufficiently for culinary purposes, and the
far-seeing proprietor was reaping a goodly harvest from the sale of the
warm fluid, sparingly dispensed at a shilling a gallon.

From the Golden Promise mine, nearly two hundred tons of the valuable
wash had been raised to the surface and this was being regularly
conveyed to the greedy battery, which consumed it at the rate of twenty
tons a day, and rendered the resultant bullion to the happy owners of
the mine. But the partners of the Golden Promise knew well that their
claim would yield little more of the same material; another fifty tons
at the utmost was Mackay's computation, and then--then the deceptive
under-stratum would have to be considered. Meanwhile, the news of the
Golden Promise's richness spread like wildfire throughout the Flat; the
battery returns on the first day of treatment gave the exceptionally
high result of one hundred and twenty ounces of gold from the twenty
tons of ore crushed.

"That means, wi' gold at £4 an ounce, £480 between the three o' us, my
lads," said Mackay, when he heard the news. "An' we can calculate on
twelve times that amount afore we're on to the mirage stuff."

"How does that compare with our home earnings, Jack?" laughed Bob.

"I think the steam yacht is coming a bit nearer," admitted that youth,
lightly. "But," and his voice grew sorrowful, "isn't it a pity that we
haven't two or three thousand tons----"

"Now, now, young 'un," Mackay interrupted sternly, "you must never give
way to useless reflections. What is, is, and let us be thankful. The
future is before ye, my lad, look to it for your Eldorado."

"After all," reasoned Bob, "we are never really contented. Our ideas of
happiness seem to change so much; we are always seeking what we imagine
to be a definite object, and when we reach it, another and apparently
far greater incentive beckons us on--on to what?"

"There you go," grumbled Jack, "preaching a first-class sermon when we
ought to be slogging away down in the shaft."

Bob started to his feet at once. "I clean forgot, Jack," said he; "your
mention of the steam yacht which we used to talk about in the old days
set me thinking."

They disappeared together, engaged in earnest conversation. A rough
ladder-way had been fixed in the shaft by this time, so that it was not
necessary for the windlass to be called into requisition every time an
ascent or descent was made. Mackay, who had just been returning from his
labours below when he received the information about the battery
results, sat musing on the edge of his bunk for some minutes after the
boys had departed. Bob's words had aroused in him a strange feeling of
restlessness and discontent, which, try as he might, he could not shake
off.

"It's the call of the Never Never gripping me again," he muttered
hoarsely. "I wonder what great secret that terrible country holds as a
recompense for all the lives it has taken. Is it only a shadow that
attracts, after all?"

He arose wearily, and went back to the shaft he had so recently vacated,
and, notwithstanding the protests of his young associates, took up his
pick and worked with fierce energy.

"It's a wee bit o' mental depression that's dropped on me sudden-like,"
explained he; "an' there's nothing like hard graft for bringing the
balance true quickly."

The time passed, and still he smote away with untiring persistency. Then
Jack seized the pick from his hand.

"It's time to go aloft and have supper," said he, "then I want to hear
you play the flute for a bit. I'm just dying to hear some decent music."

Mackay smiled kindly at the boy. "You've hit me on my tender spot," he
made reply. "Do you think you could appreciate 'The Muskittie's Lament'
the nicht?"

"Even 'The Muskittie's Lament,'" Jack added valorously.




CHAPTER VIII

Macguire's Threat


It was about this time that Macguire thought it necessary to return to
the scene of his discomfiture, and view for himself the progress made by
his worthy confrères. His arrangement with his men was the not uncommon
one of "grubstaking" for half the profits; that is, he kept them in
food, and supplied them with all necessary tools in return for a half
interest in the wealth of the mines so worked. It is a sufficiently
equitable understanding when made between an honestly intentioned
capitalist and a down-on-his-luck miner over the development of a wholly
questionable prospect; but it is rarely successful on a proved mineral
area, and when it is attempted in such a case, it invariably leaks out
that those so employed are strongly in the clutches of the "grubstaker,"
who is usually the local publican. There was a curious rude kind of
honour among these men. They respected their chief principally because
of his great bodily strength, and if there was an element of fear mixed
with this respect, who could blame them? But they admired his sharpness,
too; few men could get the better of Macguire; and so these wretched
creatures chuckled at the fact that their patron was a power in the
land, and could do much to influence their several careers when he
wished. Nevertheless, their leanings towards hard manual labour were not
of the strongest; their usual routine in the past had been "jumping"
mines when the bulk of the work thereon had been done, but on this
occasion their amiable intentions in that direction had received a rude
check, and base toil must now be their portion, unless some purchaser
for their claims could be found. So it happened that their excavations
progressed with exceeding slowness, and Macguire, growing wroth at their
failure to strike the wash in a reasonable time, and having now
recovered his wonted energy, determined to proceed again to the Flat and
direct operations in person. He arrived at a very early hour in the
morning, riding Furious. Few of the camp were about, but the ubiquitous
Shadow was of course in evidence, seated at his solitary breakfast
outside his tent door.

"Blow me," murmured that gentle youth, "if it ain't Macguire."

The recognition was mutual.

"So you got back, you young ruffian?" came the new-comer's greeting, and
the Shadow's ire was aroused at once.

"I hope the Warden didn't say nothin' unkind to you when you called on
him that morning," said he, with exaggerated solicitude. "I should just
hate to think yer feelin's had been hurt."

The horseman's eyes blazed angrily; then, all of a sudden, he threw
himself from the saddle and made a rush at his enemy, who agilely dodged
at the last moment, with the result that Macguire's great bulk hurled
itself against the tent.

"I reckon that's as good as house-breakin', it is," protested the
Shadow, in injured tones.

With rage in his heart, Macguire made another wild dash at the mocking
youngster, who took refuge behind the windlass on his shaft, and eyed
his panting aggressor cheerfully. In this position of antagonism, Emu
Bill, who had been awakened from his slumbers by the strange sounds
without, found them. He took in the scene at a glance, but his set
bronzed face did not move a muscle.

"I reckon you has just about met your match this time, Macguire," said
he, calmly. "A boy is about your size every time, he is."

Without a word Macguire got back on his horse. "I'll settle you too," he
hissed. "You won't know what's struck you when I'm done with you----"

"A bit o' rock, most likely, if you are about," retorted Emu Bill, with
grave contempt.

Macguire galloped off.

"Despite his faults, the man's a born hustler," Mackay remarked that
same day to his two companions.

They were engaged on the surface, levelling off their ore dump from the
shaft mouth, and could scarcely fail to note the unwonted activity shown
on the adjoining claim.

"He certainly does make them shift around," agreed Bob. "I suppose long
experience has taught him how to handle his type of followers."

Very shortly afterwards it became evident that some unusual excitement
prevailed at Number 2 shaft, which adjoined the Golden Promise towards
the south. The official numbers of the various claims ran consecutively
north and south of the Golden Promise, which was known as the Discovery
shaft, though, indeed, Nuggety Dick's excavation, which was now called
Number 4 above Discovery, should have claimed that honour.

This Number 2 was the main hope of Macguire's party, for by it alone
could they hope to trace the direction of the golden leader. Now it
seemed as if they had at last broken through to the golden stratum, men
rushed hither and thither carrying gold-pans and dollying-hammers, some
clustered around the shaft mouth, then Macguire himself was seen to
descend the workings. A hushed air of expectation spread over the whole
Flat, and for a brief space all work was suspended. A few minutes passed
in anxious silence, then a bellow of joy from Macguire reached the
surface; at once one of his waiting aides-de-camp extracted a red flag
of huge proportions from a convenient niche near the windlass, where it
had been lying in readiness, and its dropping folds soon flaunted in the
sunshine, proclaiming to all whom it might concern that Number 2 had
bottomed on gold. Almost immediately Macguire ascended to the surface,
carrying a large-sized specimen in his hand, the sight of which caused
Jack to be convulsed with inward laughter, for its greyish colour
proclaimed it at once to be of the same deceptive material which had
first been discovered in Emu Bill's claim.

"I'm half inclined to be sorry for the man," spoke Mackay, with some
feeling.

Bob had been experiencing a pang or two himself. "It does seem hard
lines," he said.

Yet even while they were considering on a magnanimous course of action,
the object of their sympathy turned his leering eyes upon them.

"I'll best ye yet!" he cried triumphantly, holding his treasure at
arm's length that all might look. "I've got as much of this stuff as'll
keep the battery going for six months. I'll see that Roxton closes down
on your wash to-night, I will. I'll starve you out o' the Flat like
rats, quick an' lively too."

Now Roxton, the battery owner, was like many other humbler men, heavily
in debt to the publican, who along with his other duties acted the part
of money-lender in the township. It was quite possible therefore that
Macguire could make good his threat about the closing down of the
battery, though had he known it, that would at this time scarcely have
affected the partners of the Golden Promise to any extent, the bulk of
their visible wash having been already treated. Still, the brutal
malignancy of the man's intentions was unmistakable, and a shudder of
disgust seized Bob, nipping effectually the finer sentiments he had
harboured but a moment before. Mackay eyed the jeering man with a look
in which a just anger and a wholesome contempt were struggling for
mastery.

"You're nothing but a sneaking thief, Macguire," he said, with forced
calmness. "An' for twa pins I'd come doon an' burst in a few mair o'
your ribs. I'll certainly hae to settle you when I am forced to tackle
you again. But what are ye makin' a' the fuss aboot, anyhow? You're
clutching to a bit o' clay as if it were a golden nugget. Your battery
wouldna thrive vera weel on that sort o' stuff, I'm thinkin'."

Macguire was on the point of launching out into further invective, when
his eye happened to glance at his treasure. He hesitated, stammered, and
his rotund face grew livid.

"Put the water you have ready on your heid instead o' into the
gold-pan," advised Mackay, kindly, "it'll maybe keep ye from gettin'
apoplexy."

An inarticulate yell of mingled dismay and fury broke from the lips of
the too-previous exulter. Hurling the stone from him, he turned and
rushed blindly into his tent. Eagerly his followers picked up the
rejected specimen; it was dull and dead clay, showing no trace of the
precious metal. Muttering maledictions, they fled after their leader.

It quickly became whispered about that all was not as had been hoped at
Number 2 shaft, and despite the reticence of those principally
concerned, strange rumours were soon current regarding the extraordinary
phantom gold formation which had just been struck. Then Macguire raved
more wildly than ever, for his chances of disposing of the mine on a
sight valuation to some innocent buyer were now hopelessly ruined. He
railed savagely against Nature, and all mankind in general; even his own
alike suffering and yet sympathetic followers were not spared the flood
of his abuse. A trial parcel of the ore was sent to the battery in the
hope that whatever free gold contained in the substance might be saved
by the mercury, but only further disappointment resulted. Its cohesive
nature was such that the stamps merely flattened it like putty, and the
whole went over the sluice-box in a dense mass of coagulated slimes,
leaving not a trace of gold behind in the riffles.

When Mackay heard this he was filled with misgivings; he had never
doubted the efficacy of the stamps as a crushing agency, and he feared
for the working of Bob's process on a large scale when hand manipulation
would be impossible. Bob, however, seemed in no way disturbed.

"Crushing is unnecessary with the process," said he. "The ore will
dissolve in the vat; indeed, it would reduce itself to slime in ordinary
water if puddled occasionally, or it would disintegrate very rapidly on
exposure to the sun, though that plan would be rather risky, owing to
the excessive oxidization which might take place. But in every case the
slimes would remain unaffected by battery treatment, and for this one
reason which was the basis of all my experiments--the clayey material is
a chemical compound, and not a mechanical mixture like ordinary alluvial
wash, consequently it will only answer to chemical treatment."

"But," interjected Jack, "there is most likely free gold in the stuff as
well as the--the other kind."

"Probably enough, but, as you see, even that cannot be saved by ordinary
methods; the soapy nature of the composition, I imagine, is the cause.
Oily globules will form around the gold particles and insulate them, so
that the mercury on the plates never really gets a chance to exert its
power."

Apparently Bob's studies had been complete and exhaustive; his knowledge
of his subject impressed Mackay deeply.

"I can follow your reasoning there, Bob," said he, "for the overflow
even of the small vat in the tent was more like engine-grease than
anything else, an' I can testify that the residue I washed in the pan
was a pure and free sand."

The Shadow here broke in on their conversation; he had been away at the
other end of the Flat on a tour of investigation, for it was known that
several shafts were nearing the dreaded bottom.

"The whole circus is goin' to break up," he announced sorrowfully.
"There's nothin' but Emu Bill's miradgy stuff down there, an' the miners
are thinkin' o' giving it best."

The Shadow was not aware that Bob's experiment had proved successful;
Emu Bill alone of the original group had been informed, and he certainly
had not spoken of it.

"I'll go down and advise them to hang on for a bit," said Mackay, after
some deliberation. "An' Bob, you can tell the Shadow anything you like,
provided he promises to keep his mouth shut."

"Say boss, does I deserve that?" complained the injured youth,
reproachfully.

Jack hastened to assuage his grief. "No one knows yet," said he, "but
Emu Bill and ourselves; we didn't want Macguire's crowd to hear that Bob
could tackle the mirage."

"An' did ye think that I would give it away?" murmured the Shadow, with
emotion, and for a long time he refused to be comforted.

That day six shafts penetrated into the refractory formation, and loud
were the lamentations that arose throughout the camp. Surely never was a
more scurvy trick played by Dame Fortune upon her toiling votaries.
Macguire laughed heartily at the misfortunes of his neighbours; it was
as balm to his soul that others should experience the pangs of
disappointment as he did, and in the evening he gave the lead to the
others by dismantling his windlasses and preparing for departure, having
done not a stroke of work on his claims since the eventful day of his
own bitter chagrin. On the following morning he and his associates took
their leave of the Flat, and almost as soon as they were out of sight,
the abandoned claims were being taken up afresh by a number of
hard-working miners, who had before been sinking vain shafts well
without the auriferous belt. Jackson had quietly annexed Number 2 shaft,
though he was somewhat dubious about it proving of any service to him,
and fully a dozen honest toilers swarmed over the remainder of the
ground vacated. There was no need to keep the secret longer, and before
noon all the Flat had been made aware of Bob's discovery, and excitement
was again raised to fever heat. A deputation from among the miners was
formed at once to make inquiry into the matter, for news of a scheme of
such far-reaching importance could not be received lightly.

They approached the Golden Promise mine shortly after midday, followed
_en masse_ by the entire population of the camp.

"We wants to see the inventor o' the process," said the spokesman,
addressing Mackay, who was at the windlass, "we wants to ask him if it
are a fact that he can save the gold in this stuff." He displayed a
piece of the refractory ore in his hand.

Mackay gazed at the speaker kindly, then at the sea of upturned faces in
the background.

"I reckon you've come to the right street for your information, boys,"
he replied, and he shouted down to his companion in the depths below:
"Bob, there's a few gentlemen wi' some interest in the welfare o' Golden
Flat wanting to speak to you."

A minute later and Bob arrived on the surface, and at his appearance a
faint cheer swept over the awaiting crowd. The young man started in
amazement; he could not understand this demonstration, but he quickly
recovered himself, and then the speaker of the deputation began his
oration afresh, ending with the earnest words: "We are miners every one
o' us, with not much to spare in the way o' cash; but if you can help
us, and ain't unwilling to help us, you may ask what you like from the
returns o' the mines, an' we won't refuse."

Bob was touched, and for the first time a surging feeling of his power
came over him, yet when he spoke his voice was calm and even. Briefly he
recounted his experiments with the tantalizing material, concluding with
the results of the last and final test; then, suddenly, he entered upon
a keen technical description of the ore and its peculiarities, dealing
with its scientific aspect at critical length. Jack nudged Mackay, who
coughed loudly, and Bob, interrupted, lost the theme of his argument,
and incidentally remembered that he was not addressing a class of
trained mineralogists. He hesitated, and turned to Mackay.

"You can make them understand better," he said.

"I can that," responded that individual, promptly; and he disappeared
into the tent, issuing forth immediately with the gold-pan, which still
contained the results of the important experiment. He thrust the pan
with its gleaming treasure into the hands of one of the deputation. "I
saw that go through mysel'," said he. "There's no much o' a phantom
aboot that, is there?"

The crowd behind caught a glitter of the gold as the pan was passed
round, and now there was no mistake about the energy of their cheer--a
hundred throats echoed it forth. When it had subsided, Mackay again made
felicitous utterance.

"We'll have a ten-ton vat rigged up within a couple o' days," he
announced, in stentorian tones. "An' Bob, here, wishes me to say that
the charges for treatment will no' be in any way extravagant."

A yell of approval rewarded his effort, yet still the assembly showed no
signs of departing.

"I think you should sing the 'Muskittie' to them," suggested Jack, "then
you'd see them run."

He had to run himself after that, and when he returned, the conclusion
of the meeting was near. The leader of the deputation was making
strenuous endeavour to justify his position. He harangued the
congregated miners with forceful eloquence, pointing out what an
inestimable service the young inventor would confer upon the country and
themselves.

"And now, boys," he concluded, "let her go again. Three cheers for the
discoverer of the process. Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" And the Flat
thundered with their hearty applause.

When they had gone, Mackay heaved a hearty sigh of relief.

"You're far too open-hearted for this pairt o' the world, Bob," he said
dryly. "If there had been one among that crowd wha kent anything aboot
chemistry, he would have got as big a knowledge o' your process as you
have yourself."

Bob flushed. "I forgot," said he, "that there was any reason for keeping
it secret."

The elder man laughed grimly. "My laddie," he began, with grave
earnestness, "are ye no' aware that there should be a fortune in this
for you. There may be tens o' thousands o' tons o' the stuff in this
Flat, and allowin' ye made a charge of, say, £2 a ton--which is little
more than battery price--don't you see what a tremendous profit would be
made? You canna patent a discovery, Bob; and your only safety is in
keeping it secret. The great danger lies in the simplicity o' the
process. We must be vera careful, my lad, vera careful indeed."

"But did I really tell them everything?" said Bob, abashed; for in truth
he had forgotten the presence of his audience, so wrapped up had he been
in the interest of his subject.

"Oh yes, you telt them richt enough; but you clothed your observations
in such elegant scientific language that I'm sure not a man among them
kent what ye were talkin' aboot."

"You did give them a pretty bad time," grinned Jack. "It was a treat to
see them wrestling with hydrocarbonaceous compounds, and electrolytical
principles; but didn't they howl when they saw the gold!"

"I reckon that talks every time," said Mackay.

No time was now lost in erecting the vat and other appliances necessary
for the bulk treatment of the strange deposit. Wood was obtained from
the saw mill, and Mackay, assisted by Jack and the Shadow, started to
build the giant trough for the retention of the ore. Only half-sawn,
rounded timber was used, for that alone could support the strain that
must finally be put upon the structure; a movable bottom was also fixed
to allow of the ultimate residue being drawn off easily, and the whole
was mounted on a stout standard of logs raised about five feet from the
ground.

As may be imagined, a constant stream of visitors came to view the
peculiar erection before it was nearly half completed; but when Bob's
important chemical and electrical arrangements were ready to be fitted,
Mackay, much to the disgust of the beholders, screened the entire plant
from their gaze by building a tall canvas wall around it. By the end of
the week everything was in readiness for the trial, which was given out
to take place in the evening, and a vast assembly gathered to witness
the inauguration of what was now known as the "Hope of Golden Flat." So
speedily had the news travelled concerning it, and so vastly interested
had even the outside world become in the problematical future of the
Flat's odd formation, that by Saturday morning quite a number of men
from Kalgoorlie and far outlying townships made their appearance, and a
steady stream of buggies and horsemen poured in along the track all day.
Indeed, it seemed as if a fresh rush had set in, so keen was the
excitement.

But Mackay was ill at ease. Among the throng of new-comers he had
recognized several of the cleverest mining engineers in the State, and
none of them had reputations for being over-scrupulous.

"There'll be a careful eye kept on us to-night, Bob," said he. "An' I'm
just a wee bit dubious o' the intentions o' some o' our visitors."

Bob looked thoughtful. "I'll fix up a dummy battery and an extra
generator for their special benefit," he suggested.

"A good idea, my lad, and I'll see that Emu Bill and the boys are close
handy in case o' accident. Jack can stand by an' help you. I'll attend
to the dumping o' the ore, and the overflow arrangements, an' flatten
out any man wha's troubled wi' an excess o' inquisitiveness."

"An' I," spoke the Shadow, "I reckons I'll keep my blinkers open for any
suspicious-lookin' cusses, an'---- Howlin' centipedes! there's one now!
Blow me if it ain't that pestiferous son o' a gun back again."

They looked and saw Macguire in close conversation with a short, nattily
dressed man of about middle age. Then the crowd closed up again, and hid
the plotters--for such they undoubtedly were--from view.

The trial had been arranged to take place at seven o'clock in the
evening, chiefly because the great heat of the sun at an earlier period
would have been most trying for the spectators and experimentalists
alike, but Mackay had also the idea that at such a time the working
arrangements would be less visible to the onlookers, and though he did
not then think that any danger was likely to arise in this respect, he
now congratulated himself on his cautionary scruples. Indeed, if the
three partners could have foreseen that so many outsiders were to be
present, no public exhibition of the process would have been promised.
But it was too late now to alter their plans; the test must go on, come
what may; and though Bob was confident of success, his mind was somewhat
troubled by the appearance on the scene of so many strangers, and the
arrival of Macguire added much to his apprehensions. An hour before the
stated time all was in readiness for the ordeal. The gas generators and
batteries were placed behind the vat and loosely covered by some old
ore-bags, then the enclosing canvas screen was pulled away. A number of
oil lamps hung around gave ample light, while at the same time their
reflectors were so arranged as to cast a deep shadow over the lowly
placed chemical plant. Every safeguard against prying eyes had been
employed before the curtain was taken down, and now the interested
spectators gazed curiously on the huge wooden structure which revealed
itself to them. Ten tons of the ore to be treated rested on a platform
built at the top of the vat; it was all neatly arranged in bags, each of
ten claims having provided a ton, while an extra half-dozen tons taken
from the Golden Promise lay conveniently near at hand.

Bob stepped with apparent carelessness to the concealed batteries and
made the connections secure; Mackay mounted the platform to tip in the
ore, and Jack casually stood guard in front of the hidden plant. Then
Macguire's harsh voice cackled out in protest--

"We want to see the inside o' the concern before you start; you may have
salted it for all we knows."

Bob's lips compressed tightly at the words. "I am not a professional
conjurer," he said with dignity, "and I have nothing to gain one way or
another from any of you. If you represent the feelings of the miners
here, I shall go no further."

A cry of dissent at once arose, and Macguire's safety seemed for the
moment imperilled; but in the midst of the uproar, Bob calmly unscrewed
the bottom from the vat and pulled it forth for inspection, and he noted
that those who came forward at his request were without exception the
men whose good intentions Mackay had so much doubted. The interruption
did not delay matters for more than a minute or so, then Mackay began to
load the vat, and in a short space the onlookers were listening to its
turbulent outbursts in amazed silence. At this stage, Macguire,
accompanied by the man he had been seen with earlier in the evening,
pushed his way forward until he was almost touching the foaming caldron.
But they did not escape the lynx eyes of Emu Bill and the Shadow, whose
stern grips were on their shoulders at once.

"Let them stay, Bill, if they want," said Bob, quietly.

"I should just reckon we would, young feller," rasped Macguire, though
even as he spoke his companion was whisked abruptly to the rear by the
inflexible Shadow.

Bob smiled, and nodded to Mackay, who at once opened the overflow tap,
and a spouting rush of oily slimes descended on the bully's head,
saturating him in an odoriferous flood. The bystanders roared with glee,
and made way hurriedly to allow the dripping man an open passage for his
now frenzied retreat. The suddenness of the deluge had utterly taken
away his power of speech, and the smarting pain of the saline fluid in
his eyes made him howl like a dingo. However, he recovered himself
somewhat when he got clear of the jeering crowd. "I'll pay ye back for
this!" he snarled; "I'll--I'll----" Then his more fortunate companion
took him by the arm and led him away.

The drastic lesson had considerable effect on several other
over-inquisitive individuals, and their haste to retire whenever they
saw Mackay's hand reach towards the tap was ludicrous in its
earnestness.

Again and again the overflow belched out, until it seemed as if nothing
solid could have remained. And all this time the assembled miners looked
on in silent wonder. At last Bob intimated that the operation was
completed.

"The vat was built to hold ten tons," he said, "but it could treat
fifty tons in a day easily enough----"

"How do you make that out?" interrupted a mining engineer close at hand.

"Why, all you have to do is to keep filling up the vat as the overflow
exhausts it. The gold will always be found at the bottom."

Mackay and Jack now busied themselves unscrewing the movable bottom, and
the crowd surged round in breathless expectation. Quickly the screws
relaxed, a stream of yellow ooze gurgled out, but the only solid matter
retained was that which lay encompassed within the flanged edges of the
detached wood. It was not inspiring to look upon, merely a layer about
two inches deep of a dull gravelly sediment.

Then Bob spoke again. "If the process were kept going long enough," said
he, "there would be scarcely any residue other than the gold itself."

"An' does ye think thar's any gold there, mate?" asked a stalwart miner,
anxiously.

Bob nodded with easy confidence, "You'll very soon see," he replied.

Mackay was already engaged in the work of demonstration. Raising the
shallow receptacle until it lay at a easy incline, he next gently tilted
the contents of a kerosene tin full of water over the <DW72>, and behold
the muddy casing dissolved away, revealing a rich spangling yellow
underneath. A roar of fierce joy burst from nigh on two hundred throats,
and for about a minute pandemonium reigned. Hats were tossed into the
air, and huzzahs long and loud echoed over the plains. The success of
the process had been established beyond all doubt.

One of the first to congratulate the young discoverer was Nuggety Dick,
but Never Never Dave and old Dead Broke were at his heels.

"You've saved the Flat, Bob!" cried Nuggety.

"An' you've saved us too," murmured Dead Broke, with emotion.

"What I want to know, young man, is by what means do you bring about the
expulsion of the oily matter in the compound?"

The voice was patronizing in the extreme: the speaker was the erstwhile
associate of Macguire.

Then Mackay's pent-up rage broke forth. "An' are ye sure that is all ye
would like to know?" he stormed. "You mean, snivelling sneak, do ye
think I don't know who ye are an' what ye're here for? Get out o' my
sight, afore I do you damage."

To Bob's surprise, the man fled at once. Emu Bill laughed.

"I'd have liked a word with the skunk myself," said he. "He's one of the
measliest rats in the West, he is."

Then Jack added his testimony. "He's been dodging around trying to get a
look at the battery all evening."

The sound of a strenuous scuffle from behind the vat at this moment drew
their attention. With a bound Mackay rushed to investigate, and there he
beheld the Shadow engaged in silent conflict with the man they had just
been discussing. The crowd had by this time drawn away from the scene of
operations, and were talking excitedly among themselves over their now
rosy future prospects.

Mackay snorted savagely. "Let me get a crack at him, Shadow," he said,
hastening to the fray. But the struggling man, already safe in the
Shadow's sinewy grip, on hearing the new-comer's voice, made a desperate
effort to free himself, and literally tore himself from his enemy's
grasp, and sped off into the night.

The Shadow gazed ruefully after the vanishing figure. "It was your
fault," he said reproachfully to Mackay. "When you chased him away 'bout
a minute ago I was watching him, an' saw him do a slide round by the
back, so I just sat tight an' waited for the dodger. He was pulling the
cover from that there fizzing concern when I gripped him by the neck."

"But who is he, anyhow?" asked Bob, who, with the others, had come to
inquire the cause of the disturbance.

"He's a most dangerous man, Bob," answered Mackay, grimly. "His name is
Wynberg, an' he's the chief chemist and assayer o' one o' the crookest
mining companies in Australia, a clever man in his way, no doubt, but
his cleverness seems aye to develop in the wrong direction, as the
shareholders o' the company he represents should well ken by this time.
He came here wi' that thief Macguire on purpose to steal your brains,
Bob--for nothing else."

"Well, I scarcely think he has succeeded," laughed Bob.

The crowd was by this time beginning to disperse, and a number of the
miners came up to say good night.

"Why," exclaimed Jack, "we haven't weighed the gold yet!" And neither
they had; so keen had been the excitement at seeing the welcome metal
that no one had given a thought to estimating its quantity.

"We'll soon make that right," said Mackay, seizing the pair of
gold-scales, that had been lying in readiness beside the generator. He
quickly emptied the gleaming dust on to a sheet of calico, which Jack
hastily drew forward, and commenced weighing it carefully in ounces.

"I reckon," said one of the men, who had sent a ton for treatment, "I
reckon if it goes an ounce we should be mighty well pleased."

"In that case there should be ten ounces saved, then," said Bob,
"allowing for no loss."

"There's three times that here," said Mackay, "or my judgment is very
far oot." And, indeed, so it proved. Mackay filled the tiny scales
exactly thirty-one times, and yet there were some grains over.
"Thirty-one ounces," said he, "an' belted out o' the deceivin' stuff
inside an hour." A murmur of astonishment ran through the group. This
result surpassed even their wildest hopes.

"That means that each man who sent along a ton is entitled to three odd
ounces," reflected Bob. "Better weigh it off and let them have it now."

The ten men concerned held a hurried consultation, then one of their
number advanced, and laid his hand kindly on Bob's shoulder.

"There's nary one o' us will take an ounce o' the stuff," said he. "Keep
the gold, my boy; you're heartily welcome to it. It's the first return
o' the discovery, an' it's yours by right. We only hopes you'll get
oceans more o' it afore very long."

A babel of concurring voices answered for his comrades, and before Bob
could reply the men had gone. Mackay gravely handed a well-filled
gold-bag to the hesitating youth.

"They're quite right, Bob," he commented quietly. "The gold is yours by
right--by right o' discovery. Keep it, my laddie--keep it and treasure
it, as Jack treasures the first nugget he found. In after years, if
you're spared, ye'll maybe remember this night as a vera wonderful
experience."

Bob was silent; somehow his companion's words affected him deeply. There
was a note of foreboding in them, as if the speaker saw into the future
clearly, and was saddened by what he saw. Together they joined the
camp-fire circle, where the rest of their acquaintances were gathered;
then Mackay appeared to remember something, and hastened back to the
vat, and when Jack and the Shadow went in search of him, they found him
quietly refixing the canvas wall around the whole structure.

That night Bob and Mackay slept deeply; the strain of the evening and of
the preceding days had told upon them. Jack, on the other hand, tossed
about restlessly; his active brain refused to be still, and the events
of the last crowded epoch in his life flitted before his unseeing gaze.
He awoke from a troubled sleep shortly after midnight, and a vague
uneasiness seemed to take possession of him. The moon had just risen,
and her pale eerie light penetrated into the tent and illumined it with
a ghostly radiance; it shone on the faces of the two recumbent figures
near, and Jack for the moment became interested in watching the
different expressions of the sleepers. Bob slept deep and peacefully, a
restful smile on his clear-cut features, but Mackay's rugged visage
looked grim and careworn, and ever and anon a faint groan broke from his
lips, while his breath came in quick, laboured gasps. Jack was amazed.
To him the brawny bushman was still somewhat of an enigma, and each new
phase of his startled, even while it interested him. "He'll be back in
the Never Never again," thought he, pityingly. Then all at once his
heart gave a violent bound. A shadow had suddenly fallen aslant the
tent; some moving body had intervened to shut out the rising rays of the
moon. He glanced around with an almost imperceptible movement through
his half-closed eyelids, and there at the door stood a bulky figure
gazing in on them intently. For fully a minute he stood thus, then he
turned silently, and the moon shone on his face, revealing the hateful
features of Macguire; it shone also on something which glittered
brightly in his upraised hand: it was a revolver.

Almost at the same instant Jack became conscious of another intruder
being near; his sensitive ear caught the sound of light shuffling
footsteps in the sand, and a dark form loomed up briefly by the side of
the tent; the image reflected plainly through the thin calico wall, then
quickly disappeared. Immediately afterwards there came a sharp rasping
tear from the near vicinity, followed by a muttered curse. A cold sweat
broke out on the boy's forehead; some one had cut the canvas screen
enclosing the vat and batteries! At the disturbing sound the watcher at
the door started slightly, then his demoniacal face peered again into
the tent, and the shining barrel of his weapon was levelled straight at
Mackay's heaving chest; but apparently satisfied that the man whom he so
much dreaded was still asleep, he hastened to join his marauding
companion.

Jack's action was prompt and impulsive; he leaped up, seized his
Winchester repeater, which was lying on the ground at his side, and
without a moment's hesitation rushed after Macguire. As in a dream he
saw two dark figures lifting something out from the torn curtain
surrounding the secret process; at his approach they dropped their
encumbrance, there came a loud report, and Jack felt a ball graze his
temple; then his own rifle spoke, and a yell of pain answered its heavy
discharge. A perfect fusillade of revolver-shots now echoed through the
night, and Jack felt the leaden messengers whistle about his ears. With
a just rage in his heart he dashed right at the ruffianly pair; almost
before he knew, he was on top of them, and his clubbed rifle whirled
through the air, descending with a crash on Macguire's head. So severe
was the stroke that the stock of his weapon shivered into fragments; but
Macguire's skull was like iron; though the blow felled him like a
stricken ox, he struggled to his feet at once and staggered off into the
night, just as Mackay and Bob appeared on the scene. It had all happened
in a few moments, and when his comrades arrived, the boy was standing
with the shattered rifle still in his hands, gazing with dazed eyes all
around.

[Illustration: "JACK FELT A BALL GRAZE HIS TEMPLE; THEN HIS OWN RIFLE
SPOKE"]

"Well done, Jack!" said Mackay, heartily, guessing at once what had
happened.

"But--but where's the other one?" faltered Jack. "There were two of them
a minute ago. Look for the battery, Bob; look----"

"It's gone," said Bob, quietly.

And so it was. Macguire's villainous associate had disappeared, and with
him the battery. He had left his hard-headed partner to bear the brunt
of Jack's vengeful blow, probably by a preconceived arrangement, and, as
Macguire most likely reasoned, a crack on the head with a rifle was
better for him than the bullet which he would assuredly have received
had he ventured flight at the same moment. They had trusted to the
boy's unwillingness to shoot--after emptying their own firearms with
deadly intent. They had pitted their murderous cunning against the lad's
humane judgment, and they had succeeded in their nefarious plan.

"I ought to have fired; I ought to have killed them," muttered Jack,
despairingly. "I knew their revolvers were empty at the last, only I
didn't--like--to--shoot----"

"You did well, my lad," spoke Mackay, encouragingly. "I wouldna have
cared for the blood o' even twa such scoundrels to be on your young
heid, though had they killed you, I would have chased them up an' choked
the breath oot o' them baith afore morning."

Very few of the tent dwellers around appeared to have been disturbed by
the heavy firing. Only the Shadow and Emu Bill made their appearance to
investigate the cause, and when they learned what had taken place, their
language was full and eloquent.

"I'll twist that dandy chemist's neck in the morning," quoth the Shadow,
with earnestness.

Mackay laughed mirthlessly. "They'll both probably stay in hiding for a
bit," he said, "and the first thing we'll know is another process being
stuck up on the Flat. They'll crowd us out, right enough, and we'll get
nothing but what's in our own claims to put through."

"But won't the miners stand by us?" suggested Jack, hopefully.

"The miners, my laddie! The miners, especially on a new field such as
this is, are like sheep. They'll gang the way o' least resistance, an'
we canna afford to run a philanthropic concern for their benefit
altogether. It's Bob I'm sorry for--Bob whose brain has done the
work----"

"We'll let that go," said Bob, gently. "As you said last night, I'll
have at least a vivid experience to remember."

Next morning news of the theft of Bob's secret appliances spread rapidly
over the Flat. Mackay considered it advisable to let the affair be known
ere some "new" discovery became heralded abroad by the perpetrators of
the outrage.

"It will at least ensure the laddie's name as that o' the true inventor
o' the process," he reasoned, and so the report became noised about.

At first the miners were indignant, and aggressively disposed towards
the two men who had so meanly defrauded a mere boy, yet soon they calmed
down.

"If there's more than one plant on the field we'll get the work done
cheaper," argued some one, and of course this placed the matter in a new
light as far as they were concerned.

There was no doubt as to the personality of the thieves. Early that same
morning, Macguire and Wynberg, the chemist, had been seen driving off
towards Kalgoorlie, and it had been observed also that the publican's
head was swathed in bandages, while his companion's left arm was secured
in a sling. Jack had certainly given them more than they bargained for,
and the knowledge was a source of much joy to that youth, whose keen
regret now was that he had not done them greater hurt.

The days slipped by, and the incident was almost forgotten before a week
had passed; but the owners of the Golden Promise mine knew well what to
expect. They continued their work in the shaft, digging out the
refractory ore which now alone was left to them, and regularly each
evening Bob kept pace with results by treating in the vat the entire
amount raised in the day, and the exploitation of the mine proceeded; a
little more than another week would suffice to exhaust the stratum
within their boundary pegs, and then--Bob wondered vaguely whether,
after all, the process had baffled the discerning powers of the chemist,
and so would allow them to profit by the discovery on a larger scale.

"You need scarcely hope for that, Bob," said Mackay, "as I said before,
the danger o' the discovery lay in its simplicity, and Wynberg is a man
wha has had a' the qualifications his university in Germany could give
him. They're vera smart mineralogists, those Germans, Bob, and nothing
much will pass them. A' the same, when I get a grip o' the man I'll
alter the state o' his health for a week or so. I'll----"

Mackay's anger overcame him, and he turned away abruptly to hide his
annoyance.

Events soon proved how clearly he had foreseen the plans of the
conspirators. That very night, Rockson, the battery proprietor, came
over to the Golden Promise evidently much perturbed.

"I've got a letter from Macguire, boys," he said hesitatingly. "An' he
gives me instructions to fit up a twenty-ton vat close to my
stamping-mill. He says Wynberg will be out in a day or so to see it
completed. I feel inclined to throw up the sponge, boys, I do; I know it
is your discovery he means to work. If the blackguard didn't own so much
o' the battery, I'd have nothing more to do with him; but I'm in his
power, an' I must either throw everything up or do what he says."

"Don't worry about my feelings, Rockson," replied Bob, with an effort,
for indeed the news had hurt him deeply. "I know you have been straight
with us from the first, and if I have to lose the process I'd sooner see
you work it than any one else on the Flat."

"But say the word, an' I'll fix the thing up for you," Rockson exclaimed
eagerly, "there'll be next to nothing for the mill to do after this, and
I might as well have it out with Macguire now as afterwards. You know
the secret, and there's room for two plants on Golden Flat."

Bob pondered for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "I'll share my
rights with no man unwillingly," he said firmly. "Macguire can set up my
process, but I, the inventor of it, will not compete against him. I'm
not commercial enough to beat him in the struggle for popular favour.
Besides, he owns a hotel, and I don't. Why, he would get all the trade
if only because of that. No, I won't strive with him for what should
surely be my own, but I'll make every man on the field his rival. I'll
give the secret away so that each individual may work it for himself.
Put up the vat, Rockson; it may hurt me, but I'll see that it doesn't
help him."

A quiet chuckle broke from the lips of Mackay, who had been listening in
silence. He had never seen Bob thoroughly angry before, and the lad's
display of temper on this occasion met with his full approval.

"You have spoken well, Bob," he said; "we didna come out to Australia to
run a cut-price establishment alongside a gorilla-faced purveyor o' bad
whisky an' a thievin' German Jew. The country is wide, Rockson, and
there are more Golden Flats than one in it. Anyhow, a golden mountain
will serve us just as well, and we may even be contented wi' diamonds
an' rubies for a change."

He spoke lightly, but Rockson thought he saw something other than mere
banter in his words, and he departed wondering much what new scheme
Mackay had in view.

Bob and Jack too were rather surprised at their comrade's strange
remark, and noting their look of interrogation, Mackay gave a rather
reluctant explanation.

"I was thinking o' the Never Never land," he admitted, with a far-away
expression in his eyes. "You know every kind of wealth is supposed to be
hidden out there."

"Then why shouldn't we go?" asked Bob, promptly.

"Yes, why not?" Jack supplemented with ill-concealed eagerness.

The big man gazed into the burning logs of the camp-fire, around which
they were seated, for several minutes before he made answer.

"I've thought o' it often," said he, at length, "and Bob kens that it is
my dearest wish to go back on the old track ... back to the mountain ...
and beyond. But there's danger in it, laddies; many a strong man has
gone under wi' thirst while crossin' the great desert. Then there's the
natives, savage and bloodthirsty, an' filled wi' the awfullest cunning.
It's a' vera well for me to go. My interest in life was crushed clean
oot o' me when I had to come back alone last year, an' I havena much to
lose now----"

"You can't dissuade me by picturing the dangers of the trail,"
interrupted Bob, quietly. "I know you want to go, you've said as much to
me many times; and I tell you frankly I'm going with you. What did you
give me the sextant for?"

"I'm to blame, Bob; vera much to blame. I forgot whiles that Jack an'
you were young, wi' a' the world before ye, but the reaction when I saw
that I was infusing into you only my ain restless spirit was cruel,
cruel."

Mackay's emotion overcame him, and he buried his face in his hands. Bob
spoke again with forced calmness, "A restless spirit was my birthright,
and I am thankful for it. Why," he continued passionately, "without it I
might never have known you. I might never have seen this great country
where out of your goodness Jack and I have made as much money in a few
months as we could hope to make in a lifetime at home. Let dangers come,
you will find us at your side ready and eager to meet them. No, we
simply won't let you go without us."

"Bob speaks for me every time," added Jack, promptly.

Mackay arose, straightened out his stalwart figure, and eyed the boys
with an expression of mingled gravity and happy appreciation.

"So be it," he said, and there was an inflection of finality in his
tones. Then his voice became cheerful, almost joyous. "The fact is, my
lads," he added, "I have aye unconsciously been considering your vera
tender youth, an' feelin' that I was like the bold bad giant in the
story-books wha enticed wee bairns awa' to their doom in the desert. No,
Jack, I canna exactly say what book it was, my memory is gettin' a bit
defective, I'm thinkin'. However, Bob has shown that he is a man every
inch o' him, baith in brain and muscle development, while you, Jack,
you've got savvy enough for anything, and did ye no' nearly kill twa o'
the maist desperate men in the country the other night, single handed?
I'll no' say another word against you goin' into the Never Never wi' me.
I have wished it from the first, an' though I tried no' to influence ye,
there were times when I couldna help mysel', when the spirit o' the
lonely desert sent her uncanny cry ringin' through my brain--that cry
which I ken so well by this time, 'Mackay come back to your comrades;
they wait for you by the mountain....' Ay, they wait for me, their
bleaching bones wait for me to hide them from the carrion crows. But
Mackay comes--he comes.... Get me the flute, Jack, an' let me play
something cheery. I think I'll gie ye a selection from the 'Geisha' for
a change."

"And I reckon I'll sing 'The Muskittie's Lament,' or burst," said the
Shadow, who just then approached. "I reckon my voice has stretched a bit
taller since I tackled it last."

Shortly afterwards the residenters of Golden Flat had cause to marvel at
the unwonted music, and succeeding outbursts of hilarity which emanated
from the head of the field.

A few days later Rockson's vat was completed, and that evening Wynberg
arrived by the mail coach, which now connected with Kalgoorlie twice
weekly, to arrange the final fixtures. He was accompanied by three of
Macguire's satellites, a most truculent trio indeed they were, whose
presence no doubt was for the purpose of safeguarding Wynberg from being
roughly handled by the men he had wronged, but the dapper little German
seemed nevertheless very ill at ease. He alighted from the conveyance,
which stopped just beside Nuggety Dick's claim, and gazed around him
anxiously, then suddenly catching a glimpse of Mackay in the near
distance, he made a wild break for Rockson's camp, and never stopped
until he was safe in the manager's assay office, which was the only
wooden structure in the district that boasted a lock and key. His three
followers, grinning broadly, proceeded after him at a much more
leisurely pace. After that nothing was seen of the chemist for two full
days, in which time a heavily logged hut was erected beside the huge
vat, presumably for the purpose of containing the secret appliances;
assuredly Macguire and Wynberg intended to run no risks of having the
stolen process in turn stolen from them.

Then when he observed that the partners of the Golden Promise were
paying little attention towards his movements a feeling of extreme
bravery swelled in the little German's heart, and he boldly made his
appearance in the open, and swaggered about most manfully when he
noticed that Mackay was not in sight. His hearty fear of the one man
made him forget that there were others who bore him no good will, and
this oversight soon brought about the calamity which he had daily
dreaded. It happened late in the afternoon when Bob and Jack were busy
on the surface preparing the battery and gas generator for their final
effort, for the Golden Promise Mine had at last cut out, and only ten
tons of ore now remained to be treated. Mackay was on the platform above
the vat, shovelling in the clayey mixture with great gusto, and
whistling merrily to himself the while. Indeed, from the happy
countenances of the three partners, it might have been judged that they
had only at this period struck the auriferous wash instead of having
exhausted it.

The Shadow, looking somewhat melancholy, stood a little way off, his
hands deep in his pockets, and his eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
He knew very well that Mackay's plans for journeying across into the
Never Never land would soon be put into action, and yet the matter had
not been mentioned to him. The Shadow felt forlorn and miserable at the
prospect of being left alone. "It's all owing to that wretched German
thief," he muttered savagely, "Macguire was too fat-headed to do
anything on his own." Unconsciously, he turned his gaze in the direction
of the newly erected process, and a gleam of unholy joy lit up his
features. Wynberg stood there alone fondly surveying a legend which had
just been painted on the huge wooden tank. So large was the lettering
that the Shadow could read it without difficulty, "Wynberg's Discovery."

"I don't see any o' his policemen around, I reckon I'll risk it," he
murmured, and he strolled carelessly over as if it were his intention to
view the inscription at closer range.

The unsuspecting man turned as he approached; at that moment his pride
and delight in himself left no room for other emotions. "Ha, ha!" he
cried; "so you have come over to pay your respects to the discovery,
have you? Well, well, you are quite right. Honour brains, young fellow,
honour brains," he tapped his little bald cranium significantly, and
struck an attitude as dignified as his rotund carcase would permit. Then
he began again, "There ees none other process like mine; that young
man--what's his name?--could never do what I, Carl Wynberg, of the
Heidelbrughen University, have accomplished. I---- Ah! Ough! Murder!
Police! Thieves!"

The Shadow had suddenly gripped him by the back of the neck, and
lending impetus to his forward movement by a hearty application of his
heavily booted pedal extremities, he impelled him forward at a run in
the direction of the Golden Promise Mine. "I reckon you ain't far out
when you yell thieves," commented the Shadow, "for you are about the
worst thief in the country, you are; you wanted me to pay my respects to
the discovery, did you? Well, I reckon you is now on the road to pay
your respects to the discoverer."

In vain the German shrieked and expostulated; his captor's grip was as a
vice, and an honest indignation lent added strength to his long sinewy
arms. The din let loose drew the attention of Rockson, who was in his
assay office, and he bounded out.

"Come and pull this savage man away! Come at once, Rockson!" cried
Wynberg, twisting his head round appealingly.

"Not much, I don't," came the quick response; "you fight your own
quarrels," and he turned calmly and went back to his work. But now
Macguire's policemen came speeding up from the bottom of the Flat, and
as they came nearer and saw that the Shadow only was to be pitted
against them, their warlike threats against that young man's person
filled the air, and Wynberg, hearing their coming, struggled and kicked
and raved the more. But the Shadow did not once relax his hold; he had
by this time got his prisoner halfway towards the camp, and he knew that
prompt assistance from that quarter would soon reach him.

Nor was he mistaken. Bob and Jack had been watching the affray with keen
amusement, and Mackay, who had observed the whole scene from his
elevated position, laughed so heartily that he had difficulty in
keeping his footing, but immediately Macguire's followers hove in sight
he checked his merriment, and made as if to go to the Shadow's
assistance. He thought better of it, however; "I might brak' the
mannie's back if I grippit him ower hard," said he. "You go, Bob, and
help the Shadow to bring him in."

Bob was off on that mission before the words were spoken, and Jack too;
but Mackay called the latter back before he had gone far. "Two's enough,
Jack," he said. "I want the beggar brought to me hale, no' in scattered
bits, an' Bob has a right to the job."

In a brief space the raging Teuton was dragged alongside the vat, while
the three fire-eaters, whose duty it was to protect him from such
ungentle treatment, contented themselves by hurling defiance at Mackay
and his companions from a conveniently remote distance. But their wordy
vapourings fell on deaf ears. The chief object of their wrath seemed
wholly unconscious of their presence.

"An' so you've come to see the working arrangements of the process
again," he said to his unwilling visitor with a grim smile; but there
was a steely glitter in his eyes which alarmed Wynberg amazingly.

"I'll have you put in prison for this!" he yelled. "To prison you shall
go!"

His enemy was unimpressed. "Humph!" he snorted. "Hoch der Kaiser! Ease
him up an' let me get a nice canny grip o' him somewhere, my lads. Ay,
that's near enough. Up she goes!" He swooped down his great paw, seized
the unfortunate man by the slack of his wide riding-breeches, and, with
scarcely an effort, hoisted him up struggling like a sportive fish on a
hook, and yelling loud enough to waken the seven sleepers, over the ore
platform, then he calmly dumped him into the vat amid the bubbling
slimes.

"You'll be in a position to observe a' the working arrangements now," he
bellowed. "Mak' the maist o' yer chance, you yelpin' hyena."

The shrieks of Wynberg had by this time caused a large number of miners
to hasten up. "Great centipedes! ye ain't murderin' any one, are ye,
Mackay?" cried the foremost of them.

Mackay smiled blandly, and descended from his perch, leaving the
dripping specimen of humanity to crawl out from his unpleasant
environment as best he could. "I'm merely givin' the discoverer o'
Wynberg's Process an inside knowledge o' the work, an' he's howlin' wi'
joy an' gratitude, that's a'."

Then a great roar of laughter broke forth as a bedraggled figure
scrambled over the edge of the vat, shaking the clinging ooze from his
head like a water dog, and sputtering out mouthfuls of saline fluid.
Seeing the crowd assembled, and feeling safe from further molestation,
he gathered courage, and sitting down on the platform he shrilled forth
his denunciation of Mackay in the choicest vituperative phrases of two
languages. When sheer lack of breath had pulled him up, Bob began to
address the miners in even dispassionate tones--

"Men, you know that I am the discoverer of the original process, and you
also know that my batteries and generator were stolen on the night of
the public trial by two men. Jack surprised them while they were
carrying them away, and they tried their best to murder him. I say this
man," and he pointed contemptuously at Wynberg, "was one of the
thieves."

"It's a lie! It's a lie!" screamed the German.

"Get the beggar to roll up his sleeves," spoke Jack. "I guess he's got
the mark of my rifle bullet somewhere on his left arm."

"Yes, roll them up, Wynberg," came the stern chorus from the crowd.

But this the muddy little man absolutely refused to do. "I'm not on my
trial," he sneered insolently.

"I reckon that's just where you is wrong," growled the deep voice of
Never Never Dave. "This here is a regular roll up, an' in the absence o'
official representatives from the township, we, the miners o' Golden
Flat, stand for the law every time. When we says hitch up your sleeves,
then by the howlin' wilderness you've got to do it, quick an' lively
too!"

Yet still the request of the multitude remained unobeyed. Then Mackay
reached forth his hand and grasped the dangling legs of the "Discoverer
of Wynberg's Process," and hauled him ingloriously to the earth. In a
trice the slime-covered sleeve was pulled back, and there slantwise
across the forearm was the long red graze mark of a bullet. The wound,
though slight, was unmistakable.

Only a smothered expression of disgust showed the feelings of the mining
tribunal; they had never doubted Wynberg's complicity in the theft, and
by this time had almost forgotten about the affair which indeed they had
partly condoned as being a probable development in their favour.

That matter settled, Bob continued his remarks: "The erecting of
Wynberg's Process, which of course is just my process, will certainly
serve the purpose intended in one sense. It destroys our chance of
making more than just a trace over cost price for treating your ores,
though I know well you would not have grudged paying a small tribute
extra for the inventor----" A unanimous shout of assent here greeted the
speaker. "All the same, I cannot blame you for welcoming another plant
on the ground, but I do blame the methods of the men who stole the idea,
although I do not feel nearly as bitter towards this man as I do towards
the one who prompted the action, and who has schemed against us from the
first. And now, after considering the matter over with my companions, I
have decided to give up my right to the discovery in your interest; for
the welfare of the country generally, and in the cause of justice, I
cannot allow Wynberg's Process to remain alone on the field to make
wealth for Macguire and Wynberg. No, I will defeat their ends in a way
they least expect. I will make the secret public property!"

There was absolute silence for an instant, then came a roaring tumult of
applause. The miners could scarce realize for the moment the magnitude
of what had been promised; it staggered them, and aroused their better
feelings, but as the full meaning of what had been said dawned on them,
cheer upon cheer rent the air, in the midst of which clamour Wynberg
slunk off unobserved.

"By Jove! young man," cried one burly miner, "you've planted your name
on this here Flat for all time, for blow me if there's any other title
than Wentworth's Process'll get leave to live here. You may not make
wealth o' your discovery, but I reckon you'll have a name in the
gold-mining history o' Australia that wealth couldn't buy."

That the speaker represented the feelings of the multitude was
evidenced by the rousing appreciation with which the speech was
received.

"Let's go and wipe out Wynberg's Process," cried some one, and at once
there was a rush in the direction of the flaunting sign.

But Mackay restrained them. "Leave the miserable man's property alone,
boys," he said. "You have promised a' that I wished, an' I'll hold you
to your promise that the young laddie will aye get the credit o' his own
discovery. We're goin' away vera soon on a new trail, an' may never see
any o' ye again, but Wentworth's Process will be wi' ye in oor absence
to make you remember how much you owe to a laddie's energy an' brains."

Then the crowd broke up amid noisy protestations of everlasting good
will, and the original group who held Golden Flat were left alone. It
was apparent that Emu Bill, Nuggety Dick, and their boon comrades, Never
Never Dave and Dead Broke Dan, were considerably exercised over Mackay's
statement about going away in the near future.

"I reckon you hasn't given us too much notice," complained old Dead
Broke, reproachfully; "it'll take us a bit o' time to clean up yet."

"But I don't want you to come with me, boys," remonstrated Mackay. "I
didna expect----"

"Well, I calc'late you made a mistake if you thought you were to leave
me," hastily interjected Emu Bill.

"An' me! an' me!" came the cry. The Shadow alone made no remark. He knew
that all present could not go, and he naturally reasoned that he, as the
youngest next to Jack, would be left.

Mackay, after a pause, appealed to them in logical language. "You can't
all leave your claims for the sake o' comin' wi' me on what may be only
a wild-goose chase," he said, "an' besides, six in the party is quite
enough. I think Nuggety there, who is the maist capable gold-miner o'
the lot o' us; an' Dead Broke, who has the chance o' doin' vera well wi'
his mine,--I think they should both wait an' look after things while we
are away. It would never do to leave your mines half worked out. They
would be jumped before we got out o' sight."

"I believe that is just right," agreed Emu Bill. "Nuggety can hang on to
my interest for me; he's my partner, anyway."

"An' Dead Broke can do the same for me," cried Never Never Dave. "The
workings are shallow, and one man can easily get along on his own, an'
nary galoot can jump them neither, for the wash is pretty well scraped
out already, an' one man's pegs would hold what's left."

In vain Nuggety and his approved companion protested against this
apportionment of their duties; innumerable reasons were advanced to show
how essential it was that they should remain, and ultimately they agreed
to the inevitable. Mackay had spoken truly when he said that Nuggety
Dick was a most accomplished miner; he had been stricken with the gold
fever in his early youth, and had never recovered. It was almost a mania
with him to discover new fields; his aptitude for locating the powerful
talisman was nothing short of marvellous. But Emu Bill, though he chased
up the golden gleam with hopeful persistency, really, like all restless
natures, found his pleasure in the seeking rather than in the finding.
He was a bushman every inch of him, and no more valuable associate for
a risky journey into the heart of Australia could be found, as Mackay
well knew. As for Never Never Dave, his name had been earned for him by
his wide perambulations over the untrodden tracts; his worth as a
bushman was known throughout the land.

"But what about me?" pleaded the Shadow. "I has no one to look after my
claim, for I hasn't had no mate, but I reckon the old mine has done
pretty well by me, an' I won't kick about leaving it."

"How much o' the stuff do ye think is left in your shaft?" demanded
Mackay.

"About thirty tons, I reckon."

"Why, we'll go and help you to dig that out," cried Jack.

"And I'll run it through the vat in a couple of days," added Bob.

"You see, Shadow," said Mackay, quizzically, "we canna vera weel do
without you."

"Then I'll be the sixth man?" cried the youth, delighted beyond measure.

"You will that if ye promise never to sing 'The Muskittie's Lament'
without givin' due warning. You'd mak' us think the <DW65>s were comin'
for us every time ye tackled that high note."

"I reckon I'll get an accordion----" But the Shadow got no further.

Wrathfully came the rebuke, "If ye dare purpose desecratin' oor peaceful
evenings wi' such an unceevilized device, I'll mak' a present o' ye to
the first hungry cannibal we meet, I will." Then, when peace was
restored, Mackay summed up the respective responsibilities of the
projected expedition's members. "You, Jack, and the Shadow, have shown
that you can handle camels in a circumspect way, therefore you will have
charge o' the team. Emu Bill and Never Never Dave will assist when they
are no' too busy lookin' for water or fightin' <DW65>s. Bob will be
navigator; and as for me--I'll be the pilot o' the craft, and will do my
best to guide you to the hidden treasure o' the Never Never, to the land
o' rubies, an' diamonds, and gold, which lies beyond the mountain."




CHAPTER IX

Into the Unknown


A full week was occupied in settling up affairs and making final
preparations for the journey across the wilderness. The question of
transport was speedily arranged. Three camels were necessary to carry
stores and sundry mining appliances, and a fourth would be advisable to
bear the heavy water-bags of the expedition, as it was not wise policy
to burden the animals unduly. Mackay's wiry "Misery" was selected at
once as the leader of the team, and two other great leathery hided
creatures belonging to Emu Bill and Never Never Dave, named respectively
"Repentance" and "Remorse," were called into requisition as being well
fitted for the stern work before them. A strong young beast was secured
by Mackay from an Afghan trader who called around opportunely, to make
up the quartet. This last addition to the outfit, which Jack promptly
dubbed "Fireworks," was inclined to be rather vicious in temperament,
and after seeing him buck two pack saddles off as a preliminary, Mackay
mentally resolved to trust the carriage of the precious water-bags to
the more patient "Remorse," and allow "Fireworks" to cool down under
more solid freight.

The stores of the expedition were not difficult to obtain; by this time
agencies of the large mercantile houses in Kalgoorlie had been
established on the Flat, and they were well able to provide all
necessary supplies. But the commissariat department of the Australian
explorer is never famed for his lavishness; in it luxuries find no part,
for here the ship of the desert is the mainstay of the traveller, and on
its cumbrous back only room can be found for the bare essentials of
life. Flour and tea, tinned beef and various "extracts," these are the
sum total of the wanderer's requirements in the Australian wilderness,
and with these he would usually be more than content if water could be
found to quench his thirst. But this is too often denied, the arid
wastes of the great Austral land contain few oases. The scanty rains
collected in reluctant drops in some deep rock hole, perhaps for years,
are his only hope. Yet these grim forbidding tracts allure the roving
spirit if only because of their very grimness. Across their
scintillating sands what wonderful haven may be hid? Surely it is not
all desert, something must lie beyond the far horizon. Nature's
compensating law must hold some reward for the weary pioneer who gropes
so desperately onward and ever onward into the rising sun. Such is the
hope, the belief, of those who venture forth into the Never Never. With
Mackay, who had already followed the beckoning phantom far back into an
unknown mountain, the belief had become almost reality. The spirit of
the bush enthralled him, its spell was ever over him. His young
companions too were influenced by the air of mystery surrounding their
distant goal. The unknown has ever exercised a powerful fascination over
the Anglo-Saxon youth, and the two boys revelled in the thought of
penetrating untrodden tracts, and rejoiced in their quest of El Dorado.

When all was ready for a start Mackay called them together for earnest
consultation.

"I don't want to shout much about the dangers o' the trail, my lads,"
said he. "But it is as well to understand that the risks are there a'
the same, an' it would only be richt for you both to mak' a sort o'
statement, an' leave it wi' the Warden. I--I----"

"I know what you mean," said Bob, smiling; "you want us to make our
wills--in case of accident."

Mackay looked relieved. "It would be better," he admitted quietly, "or
send your money home. Don't think I want to force my advice on you, but
I think--I think that would be the better plan."

"I've done that ever since we started to get returns from the battery,"
answered Bob. "I only have kept what I thought I would owe you for my
share of the expedition."

"Mine has been sent home too," murmured Jack, diffidently; "but I've
kept two hundred pounds for the expedition."

"An' mine has gone home too," added Mackay, slowly. "But the expedition
is my consideration, and I must bear the expense alone. It's a duty, my
dear young lads, it's a duty."

No amount of persuasion would shake his decision in this respect.

"It's a journey that's lain on my conscience for some time," he argued.
"I have a mission to fulfil which I hope may be outside the other object
o' the expedition altogether, though it's possible we may achieve the
one while in pursuit o' the other." He chuckled dryly at the thought,
then well pleased that his young friends had disposed of their worldly
goods to his liking, he went off to give some instructions to Emu Bill
about the loading of the camels.

The process had been left in charge of Nuggety Dick, who had received
full information from Bob concerning its proper working. It had been
open for public inspection all the week, and already many similar vats
were being erected on the field; and Wynberg's discovery lay idle--its
owner had vanished back whence he came.

The unfortunately placed Rockson, however, was soon given a position
more to his liking than the control of a useless stamping mill. Jackson,
whose time was required in Kalgoorlie, at Mackay's request, offered him
the management of his mine, which was now turning out large quantities
of the refractory ore, and this he gladly accepted under the generous
arrangement of a fair salary and a considerable interest in the profits.
It was Mackay's strange weakness that he could not allow another man
undeservedly to suffer, even indirectly, through any action of his or
his partners, and hence the exceptional terms offered by Jackson for his
services; he had only been too willing to oblige Mackay in the matter as
a slight return for the great favour he had received.

Bob and Jack were amazed when, after the Golden Promise had closed down,
they counted up the amount with which the Bank at Kalgoorlie had
credited them for their share in the gold sent in. They found that they
had each realized over a thousand pounds for their few months' labour;
the last two weeks' results had swelled up their profits wonderfully, to
Bob's deep satisfaction.

"I'm very glad," he said to Jack, "that Mackay will benefit a little by
the process; it means that we have made some slight return for his
goodness to us, though money can never pay for all that he has done."

"He doesn't seem to value money as some people do," observed Jack. "I
don't understand him yet, I don't."

It was after this that Mackay had ventured to express his views to them
on private concerns, and when he went away he left the boys no little
moved by his well-meant advice; the solemn note of warning in his tones,
even when he touched so lightly on the dangers of the desert, had not
escaped them.

"I do hope," said Bob, fervently, "that he may never have to take the
sextant from me. I--I get nervous when I think of the responsibility he
has given me. I wish too," he continued gravely, "that I had some news
from home before we start. I haven't heard a word since we left. Of
course they couldn't write until they knew where we were, but I think
there is time for an answer to my first letter by now."

Jack calculated it up hurriedly. "It would come in by to-night's mail,"
he said sadly, "and Mackay said we were to start after lunch. I think we
should tell him, and ask him to wait."

But this Bob would not hear of for a moment. "Certainly not," he cried.
"He treats us as men, not children, and I am not going to worry him with
home affairs. All the same," he reflected calmly, "if I had thought of
it before I would have mentioned it to him; but now that everything is
in readiness for the start--no, I cannot."

"All aboard, boys; all aboard for the Never Never!"

It was the Shadow's voice, and they rushed out at once, turning to cast
one look at the dismantled tent which had been their home during these
eventful months. No tent or shelter of any kind was being carried by the
expedition. The starry heavens must now be their sole roof at night.

They found the camel team waiting the signal to move ahead, and Jack at
once stepped to his position alongside Misery, the Shadow having for the
time taken charge of Fireworks, who was promising to give trouble.

Mackay stood a little way off, and surveyed the team critically.

"Tighten up Fireworks' girth, Emu," he cried. "He'll slip his saddle in
a minute."

Emu Bill proceeded deftly to obey the instruction, annoyed with himself
because of having overlooked the defect.

"I'll swear the cunning brute has shrunk hissel' on purpose," he
growled. "I pulled him in as tight as a windlass barrel just a second
ago. Woah, Fireworks, woah! ye cantankerous son o' a gun."

But Fireworks was intent on creating a diversion. For some time he had
been allowed to roam the desert at his own sweet will, and probably his
memory of pack-saddles and such like encumbrances had faded into happy
oblivion, but now that he felt the old galling weight on his back his
vicious temper was aroused to fury, and he stood waving his
weird-looking head about in savage sweeps, and ever and again essayed to
roll over, pack-saddle and all. When Emu Bill approached him now, the
recalcitrant animal suddenly began a series of frisky antics, pulling
wildly at the nose rope which the Shadow clutched firmly, and twisting
its huge bulk into all sorts of contortions.

"Woah, hang ye!" shouted Bill, again striving to get near.

In reply Fireworks snorted defiance, then bent himself almost double; a
sharp crack sounded out as the girths burst, and in a moment the sand
was strewn with his load.

"So that was your little trick, was it? ye measly old quadrooped!" cried
Emu Bill, in disgust. "Well, I reckon you kin try it over again."

He gathered up the saddle for another effort, but Mackay intervened.

"It won't do, Bill," he said. "We'll just have the circus repeated. We'd
better postpone the start until the morning, an' meanwhile we'll put
Fireworks through his paces. I didna think the beastie would be so
obstreperous."

And, indeed, to look at the animal now, no one would have thought that
such a fiery temper lurked in that cumbrous body. Fireworks, after his
unruly performance, stood gazing meekly at the wreckage he had created,
the very picture of innocence. Yet it was a wise policy to break him in
to a more fitting tolerance with his burden before venturing into the
great desert, where mishaps would cause more vexatious delays, and
probably occasion damage which could not then be easily rectified.

Thus it was that the whole team was unloaded, and the remainder of the
day spent in coaxing the one refractory camel into a more tractable
spirit, a result which Emu Bill and his companion bushman seemed to have
thoroughly accomplished before sundown, and high hopes were entertained
of making an early departure next morning.

The mail arrived somewhat earlier than usual that night, a fact which
did not surprise any one when they saw Macguire sitting on the box-seat
beside the driver. Mackay sighed wearily when he observed his old enemy.

"I had hoped I had seen the last o' him," he said to Bob; "but I suppose
the misguided man is looking for trouble, as usual." To his
astonishment, however, Macguire purposely evaded him, and disappeared
rapidly down the workings to where some of his old gang were still
employed on none too lucrative holdings.

"Perhaps he's got tired of running up against us," said Bob. "I don't
think the game has paid him too well, and he may be turning over the
proverbial new leaf now."

"Umph!" Mackay's monosyllabic utterance was non-committal, but it was
plain that his faith in that new leaf in the present instance was none
of the strongest.

The mail brought a letter for each of the boys and one for Mackay, and
on glancing at the handwriting on his envelope Bob was satisfied; the
expected news from home had reached him, after all. Hurriedly he tore it
open, and read the closely written sheets which a fond mother had
penned. He smiled brightly at the anxious opening phrases, which
inquired so minutely about his health and general welfare. "I have
heard," she wrote, "that fever often breaks out in a gold-mining
camp--malaria or gold fever, I think--and I am sending you a small
bottle of quinine, which I want you to promise to take regularly----"
Bob thought that rather good, and read the sentence aloud to Mackay, who
had mastered the contents of his epistle at a hasty glance. That
gentleman was gravely amused. "She's richt about the gold fever," said
he, with, a short laugh, "an' it's a terribly rampagin' disease in its
way, though I dinna think quinine would affect it much. Prussic acid or
some such deadly poison would be the only cure, for once a man gets the
gold fever it remains in his blood a' his life, ready to be stirred up
to violent action at the sight o' a nugget. Ay, it's a bad fever, Bob,
an' we've a' got it in some degree. However, your guid mother needna
fear aboot the other plague--malaria--for neither it nor any other
disease o' the kind can live in Western Australia. You must just write a
note an' tell her that. The air o' this country is too dry an' clear for
any microbe to fancy."

Bob continued his silent perusal of the letter, and as he got towards
the end a puzzled expression came into his features; it was clear that
the letter from home contained something of more striking import than
the warning against pernicious fevers. The intelligence which disturbed
him was conveyed on the last two sheets, and this was how it ran:--

"I know you will be grieved to hear that your uncle Dick is dead. Since
your father was drowned I have never had a line from him; he was the
first to bring the sad news to me, and his own sorrow seemed greater
than he could bear. Your father and he had been inseparable companions
in their youth, and many times before the _Sea King_ sailed on her last
cruise I used to hear them planning out their great schemes for the
future, for your uncle had ever been a wanderer, and was filled with
strange ideas about the riches of some parts of the world he had
visited. He went off to Australia after arranging your poor father's
affairs, and nothing was ever heard of him again. All along I fancied
that it was his money which provided the little income left to us, for
you father's savings could not have been much; sailors are so poorly
paid. The solicitors always put me off when I inquired about it, but now
I know that it was his great kindly heart which went out to the widow
and the fatherless, and caused provision to be made for them out of his
own scanty means. On the morning after you left I received a letter from
a gentleman who had just returned from Australia, and who had been with
him when he died, enclosing a draft for two hundred pounds, and saying
that that was the sum realized by the sale of your uncle's effects, and
that he had been entrusted to send it to me. No other information was
given, and no address was on the letter. When I showed it to my
solicitors they told me the truth of what I had guessed from the first.
My boy, you were always uncle Dick's favourite, and you have every cause
to remember him gratefully. If you can find out where he died, erect a
little cross over his resting-place for me. I would so much like to have
it done."

Bob read and re-read the strange story which brought back the past so
vividly to his mind, and his eyes grew moist in spite of himself.

"No bad news, I hope, lad," spoke Mackay, kindly.

Bob struggled with his emotion for a moment without success, then handed
the pages to his interrogator in silence. Mackay read them over
carefully, with a face showing keen concern; indeed, he seemed even more
moved than Bob when he had finished. "Ay, ay," he said huskily, "he was
a good man, an' there's too few o' his sort in the world. But you'll dae
what your mother bids you. You will put up that cross afore you leave
Australia. I'll--I'll help you to find the place." Then he turned
abruptly to Jack, who had read his letter, and was now gazing at the
envelope with profound content.

"You've been gloatin' over your billy doo for some time, Jack," he said
lightly. "I don't suppose your news has affected your appetite."

Jack flushed, and made haste to secrete his precious missive; but in his
hurry the envelope fell to the floor, and it was observed that it bore
the same peculiar postmark as Bob's. The boy grabbed it up in confusion,
while the big man laughed. Whereupon Jack waxed indignant.

"What about your own billet-doux?" he asked mischievously. "I think I
noticed you got a letter too."

"Here it is, young Lochinvar, here it is," and Mackay flung an open
sheet at the youth. "Read it, read it; don't mind me. I'm sort o'
pleased to mak' it known that somebody thinks o' me."

Obeying his request, Jack cleared his throat and read aloud the
following:--


     "DEAR MR. MACKAY.--

     "I have just heard that you are about to start out on a journey
     into the interior, and I thought I would remind you of a little
     account I have against you for several items you sent for last
     week. The amount is £10 17s. 6s. I'll let you off the odd sixpence,
     but please send your cheque for the remainder before you start. The
     Never Never is such an uncertain country--to get out of. Best
     wishes.

     "Yours sincerely,
     "J. RANNIGAN."


"Now, that is what I call a thoughtful letter," commented Jack, when he
had finished.

"A vera thoughtful letter indeed," agreed Mackay, dryly.

Then they set about preparing tea, and while they were thus engaged the
Shadow made his appearance, evidently in great good humour. He carried
something concealed in his hand which he gazed at tenderly as he
entered, then consigned it to some secret recess in his scanty wardrobe.

"I reckon," said he, "that I want an invite to your banquet to-night. I
hasn't even an inch o' damper left in my tent. I broke up the happy home
too soon, I calc'late."

Mackay laughed. "I ken you're a grand cook, Shadow," said he, "an',
providin' ye behave, we'll be glad to have your company. Ye'll get flour
in that bag at your feet, an' water in the kerosene-tin beside ye. Now
ye can take my place an' mak' wi' these ingredients something nice an'
tasty. I'll even gie ye a tootle on the flute to inspire ye in yer
efforts."

The lad's countenance fell. "I see I has come along too soon," he
grumbled. Then he fished about in the folds of his shirt and drew forth
the treasure he had secreted. In the quickly fading light it was not
easily observable what he held in his hand; but when the wondering trio
saw him convey the same to his mouth their worst fears were realized.
Before they could protest, the wailing of a mouth-organ filled the tent.
The Shadow blew with might and main, an ecstatic joy illuminating his
features, his foot keeping time to the music he perpetrated, and sending
up clouds of dust from the sandy floor. That he anticipated a sudden
closure was very apparent by the fierce energy he displayed, yet,
strangely enough, he was allowed to finish the first tune without
mishap; it was only when he adroitly essayed to glide off into a fresh
outburst that Mackay intervened.

"Ye should play that first spasm mair pianissimo," he ventured mildly,
while Jack sprinkled water about to allay the dust. "Now, put that
orchestra in your pocket, an' keep it there until we get far oot into
the bush. Then ye can kill the crows wi' it if ye like."

"Right O!" responded the Shadow, seemingly delighted to have escaped so
easily. "Now, I reckon I'll bake a real bowser brownie for tea, an'
we'll have a real ole blow out, we will."

"Let us eat, drink, and be merry," remarked Bob, thoughtfully, "for
to-morrow we----"

"Start for the Never Never," prompted Jack.

Shortly after sunrise the camel team was once more loaded up, and now
Fireworks' demeanour was beyond reproach; he submitted to his burden
with philosophic calm, and only once showed his playful disposition by
tearing the sleeve from Emu Bill's shirt while that gentleman was
standing too conveniently near his head. By eight o'clock all was ready
for the start, the last breakfast in camp had been partaken of, and the
various members of the expedition were standing at their posts awaiting
the signal for advance. The population of Golden Flat had turned out _en
masse_ to witness the departure. It was not every day that an expedition
left for the distant Never Never. Nuggety Dick and Dead Broke Dan were
there looking anything but happy; one word from Mackay even now would
have made them join the party but the leader of the expedition sternly
refused to meet their appealing eyes. Once more he glanced over the team
critically, as if mentally weighing up the amount of endurance
contained in the four powerful animals. His scrutiny seemed to give him
much satisfaction, and he smiled grimly as he turned his face to the
east.

"All ready, boys?" he cried.

"All ready!" came the unanimous reply.

Then, just as he was about to signal "Right away," the crowd parted, and
Macguire struggled to the front.

"Hold on a minute, boys!" he shouted. "I want a word with Mackay."

As for Mackay, he viewed the interrupter with considerable disfavour.

"If you had any differences to settle, you might have come along last
night," he said. "What's the trouble wi' you?"

"Why, man, I just want to say that I bear no ill feeling, an' that I
hope you'll be successful, that's all. What course are ye making?"

Mackay gazed at the questioner in puzzled wonderment. "I'm glad to have
your good wishes, Macguire," he said slowly. "Our course is east by
north to a place that's a bit harder to find than Golden Flat. Let her
go, boys!"

The long whips cracked, Misery's bell began to chime; the crowd stepped
back to give the ponderous team free passage, uniting as they did so in
a stentorian Coo-ee, that strange call of the bush which combines in its
notes the acme of feeling and good fellowship. Bob and Jack coo-eed
lustily in return, Mackay waved a cheery goodbye, Emu Bill and Never
Never Dave chaffed their sorrowing acquaintances with tender affection
as they passed along the line, and the Shadow, pulling at Fireworks'
nose-rope with one hand contrived to unearth his mouth-organ with the
other. Strongly he blew, and stepped forth jauntily to the stirring time
of "The Girl I left Behind Me," but his charge steadfastly refused to
accelerate his gait in such undignified fashion, and the Shadow had
perforce to seek around in his _répertoire_ for a more suitable march,
which he soon found in "There is a Happy Land," and he kept up his
melancholy dirge until he heard Never Never's voice raised in dire
threat against his person. Then there was silence, broken only by the
tinkling bell of the leading camel, and the vague echoes of Golden
Flat's farewells.

Thus they headed out towards the desert, into the land of the Never
Never.




CHAPTER X

An Awkward Predicament


The first halt was made at noon when little more than eight miles had
been traversed. The country encountered from the start had been a soft
powdery sand formation, with occasional belts of dwarfed eucalypti,
which intervened from the north. Progress was necessarily slow at this
early stage of the journey, for it was advisable to allow the camels to
harden to their work gradually.

Mackay had so far led the march, steering an approximate course by the
sun, but immediately they stopped, he called Bob aside for a conference.

"You see," he said, "when we went out before we started from a more
northerly latitude, an' I calculate we should hit our old track in
another hundred and eighty miles if we keep angling in a wee bit north
o' east. I've got a copy o' the log up to pretty near the--the finish,
an' here's where I think we ought to join on to Bentley's route." He
unfolded a long track chart which he carried in his hand; it was made up
of several sheets of ordinary note-paper, gummed laterally together, and
on its much faded surface several inky hieroglyphics stood out bravely.
He pointed to a besmeared cross nearly halfway over the chart, and Bob,
looking closely, read the printed lettering beside it: "Fortunate
Spring, lat. 28° 17´ 5´´, long. 125° 19´ 6´´."

[Illustration: "HE UNFOLDED A LONG TRACK CHART WHICH HE CARRIED IN HIS
HAND"]

"We are somewhere under the twenty-fifth parallel just now," reflected
Bob. "That means we are about 120 miles south of your old track. I'd
better draw out our present position on my own chart and mark a compass
course for Fortunate Spring."

Mackay looked relieved. "Be vera exact wi' your calculations, my lad,"
he said earnestly, as he walked away.

Bob took the sun's altitude three times while a hasty lunch was being
prepared, and laboriously checked each result to five places of
decimals, then he carefully marked their temporary camp's position on
his still bare chart, and drew a dotted line thence to the location of
Fortunate Spring.

"We'll have to travel nor'-east half north to make it," said he.

Mackay nodded cheerfully. "I hope we are lucky in strikin' water," he
observed. "About ten days is our stretch without it, for the camels
can't stand more, and they can't stand that often either."

"We'll hit it right enough," commented Emu Bill, hopefully.

"If it's in the country, you kin bet I'll smell it," grunted Never
Never. "I'm strong at nosin' out water, I am."

"Oh, after that one hundred and eighty miles, I'll know where we are,"
said Mackay; "but there's always some little uncertainty as we
understood from the first, an' it won't be outside o' our calculations
if we do go thirsty a bit."

"Not a blessed fraction!" cried the Shadow, decanting the boiling tea
from the billy into the enamelled cups. "Who says sugar? You, Emu? Well,
there ain't none; have a try at saccharine, an' be happy." He gulped
down his own portion hurriedly, then ran off to round up Fireworks,
which was beginning to stray too far from his neighbours, and ten
minutes later the expedition was once more on the move.

The next several days passed uneventfully; the same uninspiring desert
sands prevailed, and the intense heat haze radiating from its shimmering
surface affected the eyes of the travellers, causing them to quiver and
blink painfully, while overhead the sun stared down from a cloudless
sky. Not a trace of moisture was visible anywhere, certainly no water
could exist amid these barren wastes, and all hoped most anxiously that
a change in the monotonous landscape might soon take place.

"It's a pretty thirsty lookin' start we've made," said Mackay, when a
week had elapsed, and they still struggled along ankle deep in the
burning sands. Bob was walking by his side keeping an eager eye on what
appeared to be a light cloud-patch on the far horizon. He had noticed it
for some time, but was unwilling to mention his hopes in case they might
be doomed to early disappointment. Now, however, he felt pretty sure
that his eyes had not deceived him.

"There's a belt of timber straight ahead," he announced quietly, after
Mackay had spoken. The elder man shifted his gaze somewhat, and with
puckered eyes surveyed the slight break on the horizon's even curve.

"You're quite richt, Bob," he remarked, with a sigh of relief. "I've
been steerin' by the shadow o' the sun across the camels, an' I've
almost mesmerized mysel', I think, or I should have seen those trees
earlier. It's a hard course for a bushman, Bob, that fractional
nor'-easter you gave me."

Emu Bill and Never Never Dave had by this time found it necessary to
assist in pulling the camels through the sand. Jack, leading Misery, had
not much difficulty with his charge, for that wiry animal plodded
steadily onward with ponderous movement despite all obstacles, but
Fireworks was by no means as energetic as he once was, and the Shadow
anathematized him roundly as he, with bent shoulders, strained at the
nose-rope of the reluctant beast, a proceeding which the two bushmen had
soon to emulate. Now, when these weary individuals heard of the
impending change in the land surface, they gave vent to their joy in
sundry whoops of delight.

"It looks likely country for water, Mac," cried Never Never, as they
drew nearer, and could plainly distinguish the feathery scrub in their
course. The sand too as they advanced, hardened considerably, and here
and there great dioritic blows reared their heads above the plain.

"You're right there, Dave," responded Mackay, after a while, "if there's
been any rain in the district for the last year or two we ought to find
a rock hole--Hillo! Easy boys, and get your rifles ready. I see a wheen
<DW65>s dodgin' aboot among the scrub."

"Nigs!" echoed Emu Bill and Never Never almost with one voice. There was
an inflection of decided pleasure in the exclamation, as if these two
had longed for a skirmish to ease the routine of their journey. Mackay
himself seemed in no way displeased, yet he took care to impress caution
on his impetuous associates. "A spear or boomerang can kill as well's a
bullet," he warned, while each man examined his rifle. "Now, Jack, don't
be so anxious to get forrit, an' keep on the lee side o' Misery an' no'
at his head when we get near."

As yet Bob was unable to distinguish any aborigines among the sparse
scrub, but as they continued their wary advance he soon perceived
several dusky forms crouching amid the timber, and his heart gave a
bound when the savage creatures suddenly stood up and united in a shrill
yell of defiance. He had never dreamt that these wild denizens of the
bush could be so hideous; they seemed more ape than man, their faces
were covered by long tangling hair black as jet, and only white gleaming
eyes were visible; their bodies were repulsively scarred and painted.
This much Bob had time to notice, then a hail of spears rustled out from
the scrub, fell short, and buried their barbed tips in the sand at their
feet. And now the bush seemed alive with blacks; uncouth forms sprang
from the side of each tiny sapling where they had been standing
motionless, and harsh guttural screams filled the air.

"They're a bit more numerous than I thought," muttered Mackay, calling a
halt, "an' I've an idea that if we dinna rush them pretty quick, they'll
rush us. Now, Jack, swing Misery round an' let him stand, then grab your
rifle." Jack obeyed promptly, and at that moment another shower of
spears hurtled overhead.

"By gum!" growled Never Never, "they'll get our range next try."

"They're comin' for us now, I reckon!" cried the Shadow, and of that
there could be no doubt; the shrieking horde had evidently decided to
exterminate the invaders of their domain without further delay. On they
came, brandishing their waddies and boomerangs, a compact mass of
blood-thirsty black fury.

"Now, boys!" roared Mackay, "Aim low and stop them." A thunderous
discharge followed his words, and six rifles spat out their leaden
challenge to the foe. The wonderful din created by the exploding cordite
apparently stupefied the blacks for a moment; they ceased their wild
rush, and gazed with astonishment at those of their number who had
fallen. Despite Mackay's oft-repeated animosity towards the aborigines
in general, he could not countenance wholesale slaughter. "They're a
poor lot, boys," said he; yet even while he commiserated with them the
savages joined in another determined rush. There must have been over
twenty of them, and so impetuously did they come that they were within
twenty yards of the white defenders before a second volley made them
hesitate, and even now they did not all stop; a few stalwart warriors
kept on their mad course, and hurled themselves almost upon the reeking
rifle muzzles. If the attack had been made in full force things would
have gone hard with the expedition. As it was, however, the little group
had no difficulty in beating back the frenzied band. The Shadow and Jack
were in their element; they little recked of danger when plying their
heated weapons, though the vengeful club of one of the natives had
missed Jack's head by little more than a hair's breadth, and the
Shadow's face had been severely gashed by a flying boomerang. Bob could
not fail to observe how serious matters would have been had the natives
made their onrush in skirmishing order; their close blocked formation
made it impossible for even the most random shots to miss their billet,
and now as the savage and discomfited creatures sullenly withdrew, they
dragged with them many maimed and wounded comrades.

"I can't understand why the beggars are so stupid," said Bob, watching
the last of them disappear in the distance.

"Ye may learn more o' their tactics before our journey is finished,"
Mackay observed quietly; "at the same time, there is a wonderful
difference among the tribes, an' that is where the explorer's danger
lies. He may judge from a nomadic spiritless lot which he may chance to
meet that a' natives are the same, and he may gie his life for the
mistake later on."

By this time the team was again on the move, and within a few minutes a
halt was made in the densest part of the scrub, while Never Never and
Emu Bill searched around for water. But the search was vain, no welcome
spring or rock-hole could be found, and a heavy gloom began to affect
the spirits of the party whose hopes had been raised so high only to be
thus rudely dashed. Even Mackay, usually most cheerful in times of
stress and danger, looked grave as he reflected upon their somewhat
unenviable position. He knew what the others had not calculated upon. He
knew that the camels were already at their last extremity of endurance;
accustomed as they had been while at Golden Flat to drink every few
days, they had not absorbed their full supply before starting. Misery
alone, hardened veteran of many desert journeys that he was, had drunk
his fill, and now his great reserve of strength showed plainly over the
other beasts.

"I reckon them nigs had a mighty cheek to make such a howlin' fight for
nothin'," complained the Shadow. "One would have thought they was
protectin' a lake o' cool crystal water----"

"Slow up on that, Shad, or I'll squelch ye wi' an empty water-bag,"
warned Emu Bill, who could not stand reference to such an unlimited
supply of the precious fluid at this moment.

"There must be water about, all the same," said Bob. "These natives, I
suppose, get thirsty, like other people. I'm off to have a look round
myself," and he sped away.

"Be vera careful, Bob, be careful----"

But Bob was already out of earshot, pursuing a dogged course eastward in
the wake of the retreating blacks. In his hand he grasped a heavy Colt
revolver, which he had extricated from the holster on his belt. A wild
idea had seized him; he meant, if possible, to capture one of the blacks
and make him disclose the treasure they had guarded so fiercely. It was
a foolhardy plan which had so hastily formulated in his brain, and in
his calmer moments Bob would have been quick to realize what a desperate
venture was that which he had now so lightly undertaken. But the urgent
necessity of finding water was powerfully impressed upon him, and
caution for the time being was thrown to the winds. Eagerly he rushed
along, and in a few minutes had passed out of sight of his companions;
then suddenly two ebony-skinned warriors barred his path; he had
blundered right on to them by the merest accident. At a glance he saw
that they were armed with waddies and boomerangs only, their spears
having probably been discharged in the fray from which they had fled.
Yet a waddie at close quarters is no mean weapon, and Bob pulled himself
up promptly, and with a stern smile levelled his revolver. His
astonishment was great when, with a curious gurgle of mingled surprise
and fear, the dusky twain dropped their weapons and incontinently fled
before him. And now Bob's heart was filled with wrath because of the
cowardice of the pair. Had they only waited and surrendered quietly to
his request--though how he could have made them understand his wishes he
did not stop to think--all might have been well. With scarce a pause he
gave chase, covering the ground in long impetuous strides, but it soon
became evident that unless something unforeseen occurred to check the
flight of the fugitives, he could never hope to overtake them. On they
sped, clearing the sand in great bounds, even stopping at intervals to
gaze back at their pursuer. Bob's chagrin was deep, and he sent one or
two revolver bullets crashing after the disappearing couple which had
the effect of making them run the faster, while far in the rear the
excited cries of his anxious comrades showed that they were now
concerning themselves over his prolonged absence.

Yet the ardour of the pursuit had taken possession of Bob; with a mighty
effort he managed to quicken his pace so that he actually drew up
considerably on the fleet-footed pair--scarce fifty yards divided them.
"Another spurt and I've got them," thought Bob, and he clenched his
teeth and strove boldly in the attempt. Now thirty yards only separated
them, now twenty, now ten. Bob chuckled grimly to himself at the
prospect of after all being successful in the chase, and stretched out
his hand, then in an instant the hitherto level course came to an abrupt
stop, a layer of branches and spinifex grass spread right across the
track. The blacks had cleared it at a leap, but before Bob had time to
prepare for a spring he had staggered into the midst of the cut
brushwood, and at once felt himself sinking down into space. It all
occurred in a second or so. He clutched wildly at the pigmy branches as
he descended through them, but they broke in his hands, and with a rush
and a plunge he fell downwards into an unknown depth.

When he recovered himself, about a minute later, he became aware that he
was standing, considerably shaken and bruised, waist deep in some
semi-solid fluid at the bottom of a natural shaft, which he mentally
calculated to be at least twenty feet deep. He had found water for a
surety, and now would have given much to get out of its slimy embrace,
but the steep dioritic walls were quite unscalable. Bob was hopelessly a
prisoner. Then did he blame himself most bitterly for his mistaken
ardour and lack of perception. The wily natives had but pretended to be
overcome at the last wild rush so as to lead him directly over the
subterranean trap.

"Mackay was certainly right," he muttered. "Their cunning is nothing
short of devilish; and after being told of that, here I go like a fool
and prove it for myself."

He had little time, however, for unprofitable moralizings, and he peered
up and around his strange prison-house with anxious eyes, yet his
surroundings were of so murky a nature that he could only vaguely guess
the description of the trap into which he had fallen. His gaze was
instinctively directed toward the gaping hole in the brushwood through
which he had fallen, though what he expected to see there he did not
very well know. But he now realized the nature of the blacks too fully
to believe for a moment that they intended to leave him to his fate
without further molestation.

"Why, the water is bad enough as it is," he said, with a forced attempt
at pleasantry. "They'll certainly come to fish me out before long."

He had not been in his awkward predicament many minutes when a black
grinning face stared down at him. Bob shuddered and crouched closer to
the damp rocks; he was half prepared for a stone to be thrown or a spear
to be poked tantalizingly in his direction, but no such proceedings were
taken. The demoniacally leering face continued to look down at him
without movement for several seconds, when it was joined by another
equally hideous; they belonged to the two savages who had led him such
an unfortunate chase. They had now returned to view their victim after
having probably given the alarm to their fellows. Bob groaned in dismay,
but returned their gaze with stoical complacency, having not yet fully
comprehended his true position.

At length, however, his strange gaolers, with many guttural
exclamations, began to cover up the tell-tale gap in the layer of furze;
then their prisoner's senses returned to him with a rush, and his
emotions almost overwhelmed him. The blacks surely meant to cover up the
hole so that his companions might not find him, and when they would
depart after vain searchings, he would be left to the tender mercies of
the "stupid" natives he had so commiserated! In truth Bob's cup of
bitterness was filled to overflowing.

But he decided, nevertheless, to do his best to prevent the success of
their scheme. His revolver was still dry, for he had by some odd
instinct clung to it tenaciously despite his demoralizing downfall, and
now he became aware for the first time that he held it in his hand. He
fired two shots upwards in rapid succession. Operations ceased on the
instant, and Bob felt comforted. He knew that Mackay would soon seek him
out if any clue as to his whereabouts was left. His rejoicings, however,
were premature, and very speedily checked. As he gazed at the sky
through the gap which gave him light, he noticed the aperture slowly yet
surely grow narrower and narrower. The blacks were pushing the
superfluous brush over the opening by the aid of long sticks! Bob
shouted with the full force of his lungs and discharged the remaining
shots in his revolver upwards, but only a hoarse cackle of satisfaction
from the natives answered his attempts at communication with the outside
world, and soon--as the last glimpse of sky was shut out--he was
enveloped in absolute darkness.

"Well, I assuredly could not have landed myself in a worse fix if I had
tried," he soliloquized with wonderful calm. "Here I am, shut up in a
twenty-feet water-hole in the middle of the Australian desert and
surrounded by hostile savages. That's pretty good for a start--and, I'm
afraid, for a finish too." He continued his unpleasant musings, while he
carefully reloaded his revolver. Then he wondered what his companions
would do when he failed to appear, and a ray of hope flashed across his
sorely tried brain. Mackay and Emu Bill were expert bushmen, and indeed
so was Never Never Dave. He had often heard them speak of tracking up
clues of even the very flimsiest nature; might they not, after all, be
able to follow the slight impressions left by his footsteps on the sandy
gravel?... What a cruel irony of Fate to plunge him headlong into what
he most desired to find--water. Had he been caught in a sand-hole he
would not have felt so much aggrieved; but water, of all things! While
thinking in this strain, he remembered that, though he had been
extremely thirsty all day, he had not yet tasted of his find. But his
thirst had effectually gone from him, and he abhorred the slimy touch of
the fluid which encircled his limbs. Suddenly he felt some huge creature
brush against his knee, and then climb up against him with many a
wriggle and splutter. What new horror was this? Bob was anything but
timid in temperament, yet he shivered at the sinuous contact of this
unknown thing, and endeavoured frantically to shake it off, but it only
clung the tighter.

Some little time now elapsed, to Bob it seemed like half an hour, for
the moments dragged like ages, though five minutes would have been a
nearer estimate. Then a subdued muttering was heard above, and he
expected every instant to see more hideous faces grinning at him through
the bushy covering. He guessed that the whole tribe had now arrived to
witness his plight; and he was not far wrong, for nearly all the
warriors whose powers of locomotion had not been interfered with earlier
in the day had assembled overhead. The weary sojourner in the depths
kept his gaze fixed on the roof of the shaft where one or two gleams of
light filtered through the last unevenly laid scrub; his eyes had by
this time grown accustomed to the gloom of his environment, and while he
watched he carefully cocked his revolver, and adjusted it to fire on the
hair trigger, so that his aim might not be disturbed at a critical
juncture. Soon a gaunt black hand drew aside the branches; Bob's haste
was his own undoing. Had he waited long enough the oily-skinned savage
might have let in the light more fully, but as it was he fired, and a
howl of pain told him he had not fired in vain; but the brushwood fell
back into position, and his prison was left as dark as ever. He now made
an effort to climb up the walls of the dank and evil-smelling pit in
which he was immured; but the flinty formations exposed were dripping
with moisture, and slippery, and offered no place for foothold. Bob
would have given much then for a match, there were a few in the pockets
of his nether garments, but they were well submerged beneath the level
of the water, and consequently useless. The floundering animal that had
climbed against his legs next aroused his curiosity; he could not
imagine what sort of creature it might be, and his courage was not
sufficient to prompt his making a practical investigation as to its form
or temper with his hand, which, as it afterwards turned out, was just as
well for the hand. Another lull ensued, and he began to be alarmed at
the silence of his dusky gaolers. Were they premeditating some sudden
and novel doom for himself, or had they indeed abandoned him to die in
this horrible water-trap? And where were his companions all the time? To
relieve the monotony he fired two more shots upwards at random and was
rejoiced to hear another yell of pain from outside, but a retaliation in
the shape of a fusillade of stones came crashing down, missing him by a
few inches only. Again he fired, and again. Bob had grown desperate, he
did not much care what form the reply of the natives would take, but now
he heard an answering shot in the distance, while near at hand the
Shadow's well-known voice hilloed out lustily. There now appeared to be
considerable agitation among the blacks above; their feet pattered on
the sand confusedly, and then a shrill yell intimated to Bob clearly
enough that his tormentors had taken flight.

He was about to congratulate himself heartily on escaping so
opportunely from a distinctly awkward predicament, when he heard the
sand crunch under hurrying footsteps, and the Shadow, now close above,
commenced to shout his name. He was evidently bent on following the
retreating natives, for he halted not a moment, but kept up his mad rush
forward. Before the horrified prisoner below could raise an alarm, he
had jumped impetuously into the snare which had already done its work so
well, and a moment later he tumbled down heavily head over heels by
Bob's side. The spray he threw up almost blinded Bob, and the fetid
odours that were thus again let loose, caused him to gasp wildly. His
comrade in misfortune struggled to his feet with eloquent maledictions,
and his amazement when he recognized Bob--the light was now streaming
down through the gap he had made--was very genuine indeed.

"What in thunder is you doing here?" he cried.

Bob considered the question rather superfluous under the circumstances.

"Me? Oh, I'm fishing!" he replied laconically.

The Shadow ceased his flow of language for a moment, and examined the
walls of his gloomy habitation with interest. It did not take him long
to grasp the situation.

"Hang it, that was a tidy trick to play on a peaceable sort o' cuss like
me. They've bagged the pair of us, an' if we'd had the savvy o' a
mosquito, we didn't oughter be here," he snorted in extreme disgust.

"It is a bit humiliating," admitted Bob, not at all displeased that the
wonderfully acute Shadow had blundered into the trap as easily as
himself. It tended to soothe his wounded feelings in no little degree.
"But all the same," he added brightly, "we've found water, and that's
worth some inconvenience, isn't it?"

The Shadow grunted something unintelligible and began to prospect in the
almost viscous fluid with both hands.

"There's some slimy crawler shoved up against me," he growled, "an' I
reckon I'm goin' to break his little back, so that he won't have no
appetite to feed on us afterwards." He groped around viciously.

"I have had a good half hour of its company, whatever it is," remarked
Bob. "But the splash you made frightened him off for a bit. But hold
hard! Shadow, hold hard, man! Don't you see what it is?"

Bob's eyes, more accustomed to the dull environment than his
companion's, had now detected an unusually large-sized iguana struggling
in the water; it had apparently fallen in from above, as they had done,
and its snapping jaws looked decidedly dangerous. The Shadow ceased his
investigations with remarkable celerity, then lifted up his voice in
fluent condemnation of all sorts and conditions of crawling creatures.
When he had exhausted his store of expletives, he made a vain effort to
climb the oozy walls of the cavern, and succeeded only in getting a
fresh douche for his pains.

"I wonder who'll come first," he murmured feebly, "Mackay or them
savages? I reckon we shid know pretty sudden."

They were not left much longer in doubt. The report of Mackay's powerful
rifle broke the silence, they recognized it by the heavy charge of
powder it fired and the series of shrill yells which answered it showed
that the natives were still in the vicinity. Anon the anxious pair
heard the scrub break before the advance of some hurrying person, and
the crunch, crunch of feet in the sand.

"Go back and mind the camels, Jack," they heard Mackay's decisive voice
ring out. "I'll find Bob, if he's above ground, an' that reckless young
rascal o' a Shadow too."

"But we ain't above ground!" roared the last-named youth, forgetting
that his voice would be absorbed in the echoes of the shaft before it
reached the surface. On came the stalwart bushman, and the fierce
invective against the blacks in general, and these savages in
particular, which issued from his lips as he ran, came as a revelation
to Bob, who had never heard his friend so moved.

In a few moments he had reached the vicinity of the pit wherein the
adventurous pair were entombed, and Bob made ready to signal once more
with his revolver, but such action was unnecessary. The experienced eye
of Mackay had quickly noticed the cut brushwood, and he bore down
towards it without hesitation. Then, thrusting his head through the
opening in the bushy covering, he surveyed the captives below with a
grim smile of amusement. "So this is where you are, my lads," said he.
His relief was so evident that Bob and the Shadow felt even more ashamed
because of the trouble they had caused than there was any need for. Then
Bob found his speech.

"There's water here," he cried.

"Water!" Mackay's ruddy features positively glowed with pleasure. "Well,
well, I shouldna wonder but what you've taken the only means o' finding
it, an' though it was a novel sort o' method, an' just a trifle
dangerous, we canna be too thankful that it has succeeded. Now, you'll
hae to content yoursel's a bit longer while I see aboot gettin' a rope
to pu' ye up----"

"Don't go away, boss!" howled the Shadow. "Them yelpin' baboons'll be
back in two shakes if ye does." But Mackay had no intention of going
away; he proceeded to signal with his rifle, and soon the entire camp,
camels and all, arrived in answer to his call. Great was the hilarity of
Jack and the two bushmen when they learned of the strange position in
which Bob and the Shadow had been found; but their joy was real indeed
that water had been discovered, after all, and when they raised their
dripping comrades to the surface they embarrassed them more by their
expressions of gratitude than by their display of what under the
circumstances would surely have been but a pardonable levity.

Now came the tedious process of drawing water for the camels to drink,
and also for refilling the almost dry canvas bags which Remorse carried.
For the latter purpose the thick sand-impregnated fluid was laboriously
filtered through a sheet of calico, so that a fair amount of its solid
matter was eliminated. But it was not the sediment that was the most
objectionable feature of the liquid; it simply stank with vile odours,
so that Emu Bill and Never Never Dave, who had undertaken the duty of
hauling up the buckets, had anything but a pleasant time while they were
so engaged. The boys marvelled at the extraordinary capacity of the
camels for the uninviting solution; between them they managed to absorb
well over a hundred gallons, and when at length they were satisfied,
very little save mud remained at the bottom of the shaft.

"I would never have believed these natives capable of such a smart
trick as that they played on me," said Bob, who had been unusually
silent since his rescue. "Imagine the forethought of the beggars in
covering up that confounded hole, and then luring me directly on to it!"

"They're no' so deficient in gumption as you at first considered, Bob,
my lad," answered Mackay, with a twinkle in his eye. "However, I don't
think they covered up the shaft exactly for your benefit. Just look----"
He kicked a few of the branches aside and drew Bob's attention to their
wholly sapless nature. "These same bits o' twigs have done duty for many
a long day. The natives cover the water principally to prevent
evaporation as much as possible, but also to keep all sorts o' animals
an' reptiles from fallin' into it an' so spoilin' the flavour. The water
has vera likely lain in that rock-hole for years, an' only such
judicious economy on their part has left us enough for our needs."

"I reckon they'll have to shift their lodgings pretty soon," laughed the
Shadow, "for they'll have a pretty hard job gettin' a drink when we
leave, an' the next man that does a dive into the reservoir as Bob an'
me did, shid strike something hard at the bottom."

The afternoon was already far advanced, but when Never Never Dave
suggested that they should camp where they were until morning, Mackay
would not hear of such a proceeding.

"We'll find trouble soon enough without lookin' for it, Dave," said he,
"an' if there's one thing I dislike it's camping near a crowd o' <DW65>s
in the night time. They would try to swipe us out before morning, for
the miserable vermin get vera brave after sundown. No, boys, we'll head
out right now for Fortunate Spring. Fetch out the compass, Jack, an' let
me have a look at that course again. The sun has shifted a bit since I
worked out the correct shadow to steer by."

Immediately afterwards Misery's bell began to chime, and the camel team
moved on its weary way.




CHAPTER XI

The Finding of Fortunate Spring


For several days after leaving the scene of Bob's adventure the
travellers struggled over a most disheartening tract of country. The
timber belt amid which they had discovered water proved to be but a
narrow strip, extending down from the north-west; it evidently marked
the course of an ancient river-bed, for immediately beyond its scope the
sullen desert appeared bare of all vegetation, save for occasional
clumps of saltbush and tufts of spinifex grass. Over this barren waste
they forced their dogged course, starting at sunrise and halting towards
noon, when the heat became too terribly oppressive both for man and
beast; then in the evening they would continue the journey, sometimes
marching late into the night. It was well for them that water had been
found so opportunely, for assuredly none promised in the arid sands they
were now encountering. The fifth day, however, brought with it the hope
of better things. Away to the east the landscape took on a much more
broken aspect, a feature which gradually extended right across the line
of travel. Great dry gullies, starting from apparent nothingness, tore
up the plain in all directions, and giant boulders of desert sandstone
outcropped in prodigal profusion. And this drastic change in the land
surface cheered the wanderers mightily, for though in itself it offered
greater obstacles to progress than the weary sand-flats, it relieved the
eyes, which had become so weary of gazing at the seemingly everlasting
monotonous desert, and uplifted their hearts strangely.

Another day, and several mouldering ridges surrounded them; mere
hillocks of sand they were, yet, rising as they did abruptly from an
even expanse, they appeared in the distance as precipitous mountain
steeps, and it was hard to believe that their grandeur would fade away
at a closer view. Within these guarding barriers, a beautiful white
tableland lay spread, so white and pure that it glittered like marble in
the sun's rays. The sight was a dazzlingly splendid one, and Jack, who
had been the first to climb the gentle elevation hiding the valley from
the south, had exclaimed in delight--

"What a huge lake we are coming to; it looks like a great frosted
Christmas card!"

"Lake!" Mackay had answered, almost sorrowfully. "Ay, it's a lake that
will give us a maist desperate thirst, instead o' quenching what we've
got."

And soon the truth of this remark was borne painfully on them all, for
the lake was a mass of crusted and crystallized salt, that crushed like
tinder beneath their feet and showered over the heads of the voyagers in
sparkling clouds of finest dust. It filled their ears and eyes and
nostrils; they inhaled the minute grains with every breath; it covered
their tattered clothing in a gauzy film of white.

"Well, I'm blest!" ejaculated Emu Bill, "if this ain't the cruellest
joke to play on a thirsty sinner, an' nary a drink within hundreds o'
miles!"

"Shut up, Bill, an' ye won't swallow so much of it," retorted Never
Never Dave, unsympathetically. Then he was moved to further speech.
"Bless yer soul! It's a whole brewery we'll want afore we gets through
this, I'm thinking."

"I had an idea," observed Mackay, blandly, "that you two had joined the
temperance party a week or so before we left, so as to get accustomed to
a bit o' a drought."

"Temperance party!" stormed the unusually loquacious Never Never, "I
reckon this here circus would break up any anti-thirst campaign in
less'n five minutes."

He would have continued, but his companion sternly rebuked him by
casting at him the words with which he had himself been silenced. After
that not a word was spoken for fully ten minutes, and the camel team
staggered blindly on, floundering through intervening salt wreaths like
ships in a heavy sea. The lake appeared to be nearly six miles in
length, which meant that at least two hours would be spent in the
crossing, for their rate of travel seldom exceeded three miles an hour,
and was more often considerably less. In that time, if each man
satisfied his craving for water from their very limited store, there
would be but little left, and by Bob's calculations they were yet about
thirty miles from the location of Fortunate Spring. But though each of
the little party suffered severely, not one of them made other than
jocular mention of his longing, and Mackay felt proud of the fortitude
and reserve they displayed. He was especially concerned for Bob and
Jack, for they, not having been hardened to such experiences, must have
felt the influence of their salt bath most keenly; but if they were in
any way incommoded they showed no sign. Bob walked by Mackay's side,
talking at intervals concerning the probable geological history of
interior Australia--a subject of endless interest to him. Jack and the
Shadow strode at Misery's head, for now Fireworks needed no guiding hand
at his nose-rope, but followed submissively in the rear of Repentance,
and from snatches of their conversation, which floated to Mackay's ears,
he gathered that Jack was giving his Australian comrade a description of
the snows and frosts of the old country as a set-off to the blazing heat
they were now experiencing.

"Yes, I reckon I'll go home with you," the Shadow was saying. "It must
be a grand country, wi' no snakes nor centipedes nor other crawlers, an'
nary muskittie to nibble you in your sleep."

Bob laughed. "I'm afraid the confined spaces at home would hardly suit
him after this," he said. "I don't think I could stand the nature of
things on the other side myself now."

"Because you're a born wanderer, Bob," smiled Mackay; "an' the world
itself will soon be too small for you."

At last the end of the salt lake was reached, and cheerfully a path was
forced over the encircling ridges, for all had high hopes of what might
lie beyond. But disappointment again was their portion: the grim,
unbroken desert stretched before them in all its hideous dreariness; the
land of beau desire had not yet come.

"I remember well," said Mackay, "that Fortunate Spring was in a pretty
bare sort o' country, but it certainly wasna as bad as this, although we
had a hard tussle before we came to it."

On, on, they struggled; but, if anything, their course became more
difficult as they proceeded. On the following morning a gentle wavy
outline against the sky in the northerly distance warned them of some
impending change, but by this time the members of the expedition had
become spied to their comfortless lot, and scarce dared hope for an
improvement until they neared the portals of their goal, their shadowy
land of El Dorado.

Gradually the sinuous curves on the horizon loomed up plainer to the
view, and lo! as they crested an intervening sand hillock, a strange
sight met their gaze. As far as the eye could reach west or north, a sea
of undulating sand ridges appeared, rolling down like gigantic breakers
from the dim north-west, the mighty valleys between each swelling
sand-wave being over a hundred yards apart and fully thirty feet deep.
Capping these wonderful billows regular rows of saltbush and spinifex,
so regularly spread, indeed, that in the rosy morning light the whole
scene was like some Brobdingnagian field, with furrows bearing luxurious
vegetation.

"I reckon we has struck the land o' Goschen at last," said the Shadow,
joyously.

"It does look pretty," Jack allowed hesitatingly, as they stood to take
in the view, and waited for the others to come up. Indeed, so
unaccustomed had they grown to seeing such close array of even the wiry
desert growths that for the moment all imagined they looked upon a
wildering forest. The saltbush was by the fantasy of mirage exalted to
lordly proportions, and the spiky spinifex patches drooped in the sun's
rays like the spreading fronds of the stately palm.

Mackay dispelled the illusion; he of all the party seemed ill at ease.

"I didna think the sand-waves extended so far back," he muttered, half
to himself. Then he added, aloud, "It's no' a land o' promise you're
lookin' at, boys; it's a deceiving land o' misery an' dispair, where
many a good man has lost his life."

"But what about the beautiful trees and shrubs?" asked Bob, in
wonderment. "They seem to stretch back for miles and miles."

"It's only another case where distance lends enchantment, as the poet
says, my lad. Your trees are only saltbush, and instead o' growin'
closely, there's over fifty yards between each o' them; it's those
behind that fill in the gaps. The eye can never understand the
perspective o' this country, the air is so clear that distant objects
almost blend wi' what is close at hand."

He spoke truly. When they forced their way at a difficult angle across
the vast undulations, they discovered to their sorrow that only the
sparsest of vegetation found root on the hill crests, while the long
interstices were absolutely barren. Not only this, but the sand on the
inclines and declivities was so loosely packed that the camels sank to
the knees in their strenuous efforts to scale them, and had to be pulled
over the barring obstacles by sheer force.

"A day of this will just about finish Remorse," said Mackay, noting how
that meek yet willing animal was labouring under its load. "I think,
Bob, we'd better keep in the trough o' these confounded waves until we
run oot o' them, I ken we must be near the edge as it is, for I mind
that Fortunate Spring was a good day's travel past their eastern limit.
That was why the chief called it by that name. We were vera nearly lost
on those same ridges; we didna find a drop o' water for over a hundred
miles, and we were just about dead beat when we came upon it."

"How far do they run towards the north?" questioned Bob.

"Well, Carnegie, who was one o' the finest explorers that ever handled a
sextant, calculated they covered nearly three hundred miles o' West
Australia. What their area is God only knows, yet it must be over fifty
thousand square miles."

"I should think this would be nearly as bad as the Sahara," said Jack,
as he tugged at Misery's rope. "I haven't seen a drop of water since we
started, unless that which Bob fell into."

"The Sahara?" echoed Mackay. "Why, we wouldn't ca' it a desert at all.
It's only because it's so near the old country that it is considered to
be anything extraordinary. This country, Jack, wouldna be an explorer's
preserve if it contained as much water as the Sahara. It would be
overrun in every direction by gold-miners."

Then Jack was silent, marvelling greatly that in his earlier youth at
school he had learned so little concerning the vast sandy wastes of
Australia. Soon, as they kept on their altered course, the retarding
undulations began to grow less and less high, and by late afternoon they
had merged into the monotonous plains, now welcome indeed to the
travellers after their encounter with the formidable sand-ridges. But
their progress that day had barely totalled ten miles, and the camels
were well-nigh exhausted after their extreme exertions. The poor brutes
had had a severe experience from the beginning, and the rough usage was
telling heavily upon their strength. That night they could scarcely
muster up sufficient spirit to chew their usual meal of saltbush tips,
and, after a few weak efforts, Remorse and Repentance lay down in the
sand, while Misery and Fireworks gazed at the little group around the
camp-fire with mute, appealing eyes.

"I hope we don't have any trouble finding that spring," said Mackay,
anxiously, and instinctively they all turned to Bob with a questioning
look. The young navigator winced as he took out his notebook and
hurriedly checked his previous calculations.

"We were in latitude 28° 24´ 7´´ at noon to-day," he said quietly; "that
should make us about seven miles only from the location of Fortunate
Spring, allowing we made five miles since lunch."

"But the longitude, Bob?" asked Mackay. "How do we stand for that?"

Bob again examined his log-book. "I have it marked at 125° 11´ 17´´," he
answered, "but we came a good bit easterly since that. I'll try it again
in the morning, though I think we're almost on the correct line now, and
should hit the Spring by going due north."

He handed the book to Mackay, who glanced at the figures and mentally
checked the simpler calculations, but he did not ask for Bob's table of
logarithms, and the young man felt satisfied. Bob, indeed, was sure of
his positions; they had been worked out with painful exactitude, but he
could not help feeling anxious about the morrow. The country in the
vicinity seemed so utterly arid and barren. Could the original figures
he received be correct? Might not possibly some mistake have crept into
Bentley's estimates? He shuddered at the thought, then was immediately
sorry for the passing doubt. Who was he who dared question the accuracy
of an old and tried explorer's chart? Yet Bob went to sleep that night
feeling vaguely uneasy, and by early sunrise he was up taking altitudes,
Jack and the Shadow attending him to mark the time of his observations.
It was nearly nine o'clock before they were ready to move out that
morning; the camels had for a long time refused to be loaded, and when
loaded they could not be prevailed upon to arise to their feet, until
forced to do so by the necessarily cruel expedient of lighting fires
under their noses.

"That's nothing, Jack," Mackay said with a laugh, for he had noticed the
look of pain on the boy's face. "They get up long before they're hurt;
their hide is like leather, you know, and camels are vera often stubborn
and annoying when there's really no occasion for it."

But he knew well that the poor animals were not refractory without
reason on this morning, though he endeavoured to make light of the fact.
Wearily the heavily laden beasts trudged along, and when the first hour
passed, and the sand showed signs of hardening, the Shadow made a
valiant effort to infuse life into their hulking movements by blowing at
his long-unused mouth-organ vociferously, and making the air resound
with discordant notes, for his cracked lips could ill glide along the
reeds with any degree of certainty. Bob, who was striding along well in
advance, smiled as he heard the concert thus let loose, and he smiled
the more when the dismal voices of Emu Bill and Never Never Dave were
added to the chorus; and, looking back, he observed these two worthies
prancing on with martial steps, though certainly not with martial grace,
for their bodies were bent as they pulled their reluctant charges
onwards, and their feet, notwithstanding their jaunty uplifting, went
down almost in the same place. And Mackay, looking back at the
perspiring musician, nodded encouragingly, much to that alert youth's
amazement, for he had expected but a rude check as a reward for his
labours. Not only did he thus ostensibly appreciate the lively music,
but he joined in with his comrades lustily in their vocal exercises; and
in this way the labouring train progressed, and almost unnoticeably a
thin, straggling array of mallee and mulga shrubs began to dot the
hardening sand surface, a slight dip in the land had obscured them from
earlier view. By eleven o'clock the sand had merged into the longed-for
iron-pebble strewn plains, and now the scrub was comparatively abundant
all around, and the tough, wiry grasses which the camels loved appeared
in greater profusion. Yet no signs of Fortunate Spring.

"It can't be far off now," said Bob, hopefully. "I'd better fix our
position again before we go further, in case we might pass it."

"And that would be easily done, my lad," spoke Mackay. "I remember well
that the water was in a mallee flat, just scrubby country like this, but
there was no kind o' landmark except a fair-sized lime tree which grew
beside it, an' I canna see any lime trees about here."

"I'll have another shot at the sun," decided Bob, and at once the team
came to a halt, while Jack hastily unstrapped the sextant and
chronometer from Misery's back.

A few minutes more and Bob had worked out the necessary calculation.

"I make the latitude come out exactly," he said gravely.

"Try again, Bob; try again," urged Mackay.

With sinking heart Bob once more levelled his sextant; the horizon was
easily discernible through the scraggy bush, and the flat itself was
level as could be.

"I find the latitude reading correct," he repeated, with bloodless lips;
"and the longitude," he added, after a pause, "is the same as it was
this morning, the same as is marked on my chart over the location of the
Spring."

"We'll soon find it, if it is near abouts," cried Emu Bill, cheerily.
"Don't fret, Bob, them springs have a habit of getting lost at times.
Come on, Never Never, come an' help me to smell it out wi' that tender
nose o' yours."

And they rushed off into the bush towards the west. The Shadow and Jack
started to follow, but Mackay recalled them.

"You two had better look around due north," he said, "and I'll tackle
the east myself. Now don't go further than a mile, an' signal wi' a
revolver-shot if ye find anything."

Without a word they departed on their quest, and Mackay and Bob were
left alone. Calmly the elder man interrogated the lad, who was standing
in an attitude of deepest dejection, the sextant hanging loosely in his
hand.

"And is there no room for a mistake in any o' your figures, Bob?"

"None, none, that I can imagine. I have been particularly careful----"

Bob could not finish his sentence, a flood of emotion swept over him,
and he sat down in the sand and covered his face with his hands.

"Why, my laddie, ye mustn't blame yoursel' for no error o' yours," spoke
Mackay, kindly, gazing at the despondent youth with a strange light in
his keen grey eyes. "Brace yoursel' up, Bob; we'll likely find the
spring at no great distance, an' if we don't, well--we'll look for
another one if the camels stand by us."

He hurried away into the eastward scrub. Bob arose and gazed after him
with quivering eyelids.

"Yes," he murmured brokenly, "I have brought you all to your death, and
I can do nothing now to save.... I know the error is not mine, but I
cannot and will not blame a dead man.... I wonder what can possibly be
wrong."

He shook his head in utter hopelessness, then he glanced at the sextant,
lying as he had left it, half buried in the sand. He took it up and
brushed the silvered arc carefully with the ragged sleeve of his shirt,
and was preparing to place it in its case when a new idea seemed to
strike him. He grasped the instrument with a firmer grip and stood
erect, a new light, a light of gladness shining in his eyes.

"It's strange I never thought of it before," he said aloud; "a minute or
two either way would make all the difference." He picked up the
chronometer, which lay idly at his feet, and examined it critically.
"It's just possible," he muttered, "the jolting of the camel may have
made it go a bit fast; I wonder if I can check it. I am going to try."

Long and eagerly he gazed at the sun through the powerful telescope of
the sextant, and every now and then he would note down his
observations, and consult the Nautical Almanac which lay open before
him. In the midst of these proceedings, Emu Bill and Never Never Dave
returned, after a fruitless search, and while they stood watching him,
Jack and the Shadow also made their appearance, and lined up beside the
other two in solemn silence. There was no need to ask them if they had
been successful, their faces plainly indicated disappointment, though
they both strove hard to hide their feelings. As for the first arrivals,
their rugged countenances betrayed not the slightest trace of emotion.
Bill calmly chewed a quid of tobacco, and Dave reflectively pulled at
his pipe. To them it did not seem to be a matter of much moment whether
they found the spring or not. At length Bob threw down the sextant with
a weary sigh.

"The chronometer is right," said he, sadly; then, as his comrades looked
at him questioningly, he faltered: "I've done my best, boys ... the
fault may not be altogether mine, but ... I am responsible to you....
What can you think of me----?" He gave way completely.

Then out spoke Emu Bill, and his voice rang firm and true--

"Shoot me fur a dingo if I'll listen to you miscallin' yourself, Bob.
You has shown us afore what ye were made o', an' hang me for a
cross-eyed Chinese if I'll believe you've made the mistake."

"I'm right with ye thar, Bill," grunted Never Never.

Bob looked at them in silent gratitude that was more potent than words.

"Blow me!" blurted out the Shadow, "this ain't no funeral circus." He
strode aside and examined the canvas bags overlapping Remorse's tough
hide; they were flat and empty, the last drop had gone. He rejoined the
little circle quietly, and held out his hand to Bob, who was gazing with
unseeing eyes into the horizon. "I knows it ain't your fault," he said
simply.

Jack alone had not spoken, but Bob knew his comrade's thoughts; he knew
the loyal courage and devotion of the boy's heart.

And all this time Mackay had not come back, nor had any welcome signal
been heard. Bob commenced to fear that he would not come back unless he
had something to report.

"What did ye mean by sayin' the chronometer was right, Bob?" asked Emu
Bill, suddenly.

"If it had gone fast or slow, my longitude, which I calculated by it,
would have been out accordingly," replied Bob, listlessly. "I thought
the jolting might have affected it."

"Why then," returned Bill, "ain't it more likely that Bentley's time was
wrong? If he came in from the west across the whole darned stretch o'
sand-ridges, I reckon he would bust things up a bit."

Bob was startled into fresh energy. "Of course, you're right, Bill!" he
cried excitedly. "I've been so anxiously looking for a possible error in
my own instrument, I never thought of it occurring with Bentley's. I
believe you've hit the solution of the whole difficulty. We'll find
Fortunate Spring due east of us in that case, for his latitude would be
sure to be right."

"We'll get under way at oncet then," grunted Never Never Dave. "We're
bound to meet Mackay comin' back."

At once Jack rushed to Misery's head, and the others hastened to their
posts. Bob picked up the sextant and chronometer, and with a surging
hope in his heart led the way in the direction that Mackay had taken.
Slowly, slowly, they broke through the scrub, Misery's bell sending out
its melancholy note, and shattering the oppressive stillness which had
prevailed but a few minutes before. Onward they went and onward, and yet
no sign of Mackay, and no sign of a spring to gladden their weary eyes.
About two miles had been traversed, and the spirits of the forlorn party
were drooping fast, when from the bush but a few hundred yards ahead a
revolver shot boomed out loudly. With one accord the camels stopped
dead. They seemed to realize that something was about to happen. Again
came the sonorous echoes of an exploding cartridge, and a hoarse cheer
burst from the eagerly listening quartet.

"Mackay has found it! Hurrah! Hurrah!" roared the Shadow, and with
renewed effort a path was forced on towards the origin of the welcome
sound. Five minutes more and they broke into a rough clearing in the
bush in the centre of which a tall lime tree reared high above its
dwarfed surroundings; and seated by the tree gazing at some rude
markings that showed faintly on the gaunt white trunk, was Mackay. At
his feet, sunk among the spreading roots, and half hidden by
enclustering grassy growths, gleamed the water of the spring. Bob gave a
gasp of relief and thankfulness. Emu Bill and Never Never Dave calmly
began to unload the camels, the Shadow after vainly trying to find his
speech, mechanically pulled out his musical instrument, and sought to
indicate his joy thereon.

Then Mackay arose to his feet, "Dinna desecrate the place, Shadow,"
said he, in gentle reproach. "Remember this is a monument to the dead."

He motioned Bob and Jack to come forward and view the mossy inscription
on the tree, and silently they obeyed his summons. Deep graven in the
wood was the legend: "Fortunate Spring, 1898. Bentley's Expedition. Lat.
28° 17´ 5´´, long. 125° 19´ 6´´ (Dead Reck.) Course E." Then followed a
list of the initials of the party headed by those of Mackay: "J. M."

By this time Emu Bill, Never Never Dave, and the Shadow had also
gathered round to view the symbols left by Mackay's old leader, and as
each man traced out the lettering for himself, he doffed his tattered
hat reverently.

"Ay, boys," spoke Mackay, breaking the solemn hush that reigned, "it was
a fortunate spring for us then, and it's a fortunate spring for this
expedition now. But how did you manage to come straight for it, Bob? It
took me a good time zig-zagging through the bush before I sighted the
tree."

In a few words the young navigator explained the cause of their coming,
then he pointed to the inscription "Dead Reck." "That shows that Bentley
did not think his readings altogether accurate," he said gravely, "and
he meant it as a warning to others, though why he didn't put it on his
chart is strange to me."

Mackay looked at the speaker with a troubled countenance.

"It's been my fault, Bob. When I copied the figures into my own book I
didna think it necessary to put the qualification down."

"I wants to say here," interjected Emu Bill, "that in my humble opinion
Bob can steer a course wi' any man, an' my ole carcase is here to prove
it. A hundred an' eighty miles he's took us across the miserablest
country on God's earth, an' nary time has I heard him grumble."

"I goes nap on Bob every time," concurred Never Never.

A light of real happiness overspread Mackay's bronzed features.

"What more can you ask, Bob?" he said earnestly, "than the testimony o'
the pioneer, wha' lends his life to your guidance."

"Hurrah for Fortunate Spring!" shouted Jack, unable to contain himself
longer.

"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" roared the answering chorus.




CHAPTER XII

A Night Attack


They lingered for two days by Fortunate Spring in order to give the
camels a much-needed rest, then they proceeded on their march, now
steering due east, and it was strange indeed how this altered course
affected the spirits of the party. They seemed to feel that they were at
last on the straight track towards the mystic land of their desire.
Mackay even more than the others showed the change in his feelings; he
whistled joyously in the exuberance of his heart, and cheered on the
labouring team with hearty words of praise. And Bob, relieved
considerably of his own vague doubts in himself, had changed apparently
into a new being. The vagaries of the Shadow called forth his amusement,
and the dry wordy dialogues of the two bushmen never failed to make him
laugh with keenest appreciation, a fact which endeared him much to that
valiant couple. The freedom of the mighty desert held him in thrall, its
dangers were forgotten, the call of the wild was in his ears, the secret
of the Never Never beckoned him.

"I told you the sunny skies would alter your temperament," said Jack,
whose boisterous good nature had never once deserted him. "I don't think
a man gets a fair show in the constantly cloudy weather at home."

"And yet we always get back to the old country somehow," answered Bob,
thoughtfully. "I suppose its grand history attracts us when the greater
world has palled. I believe I could almost live in history, Jack,
wandering about among the castles and cathedrals that have seen the
centuries pass. What wonderful records the grim old walls hold. Why,
each stone would seem alive to me."

"It would be pleasant to have a big holiday at home," admitted Jack,
wistfully; "but our time--and means, for travelling about was pretty
limited when we were there----"

"But that will never be again," cried Bob, gaily; "just consider what we
have already got in this country, and who knows what may await us out
where we are going?"

Who knew indeed? Who ever knows what lies in the dim distance of
untrodden tracts? The days passed quickly, though the country continued
to be barren and cheerless in aspect, the difficulties of travel were
not nearly what they had been on the first long weary stretch. More than
once a soak was discovered to replenish the water-bags before they had
yet gone dry, and within a week two new wells had been charted. They
were little more than the muddy residues of a long previous rainfall,
still, the dignity of a Central Australian well as a rule lies wholly in
its title, a fact which is well enough known to all explorers.

So successful were they in their journeying that after ten days had
elapsed, and they were a hundred and forty miles east of Fortunate
Spring, Mackay considered that a brief deviation to the north might be
ventured upon on the off chance of evading a long dry stretch which at
this stage intervened on Bentley's route, the next and final spring
charted by that explorer being over seventy miles distant.

"We had a terribly hard time on that journey," said he, as he gazed
across the wavy expanse of shifting sands which spread before them, "an'
it's just possible the country to the north'ard a bit may be better. It
canna be much worse."

For a long time, however, the varied route showed little prospect of
improvement; sand, sand, everlasting sand spread everywhere before them,
and progress became dangerously slow. The camels struggled in vain to
make headway; they sank and floundered and stumbled in the wreathing
masses. In five days the distance covered totalled only forty miles. No
wonder Mackay looked grave as he noticed the water-bags' woefully flat
appearance.

"I tell you what, boys," burst out Emu Bill, during their noonday halt,
"it's mighty sartain we has struck a snag this time. This is the
miserablest patch----" He broke off abruptly and fell to abusing the
flies besieging his face with remarkable eloquence. No one seemed
disposed to question Bill's statement in any way, and shortly afterwards
the march was renewed, Bill, Never Never, and the Shadow alternately
lauding the striving camels for their patient endurance, and bestowing
maledictions upon them for their ponderously slow onward movement.

Hour after hour the melancholy procession laboured along. So soon had
the grimmer influence of the country exerted its baleful spell that for
a long time each man feared to speak lest he might betray the growing
depression at his heart. Then, just as the evening shadows were
beginning to close in, a welcome break in the monotonous landscape
appeared to gladden their straining eyes. In the faint distance a
feathery line of scrub stretched across their path, indicating a decided
change in the sand surface, and the sight added vigour to their failing
steps. Eagerly they strove to reach the inviting mallee coppice before
the thick blackness of night came down to envelop them. But it was not
to be; the stumbling gait of the camels could not be hastened, though
Emu Bill and his compatriots implored and beseeched the hardy animals
with an eloquence that was touching to hear.

"One more try, boys," cried Mackay. "There's bound to be water somewhere
among the timber, and we may save ourselves another night of misery by
finding it now." He went to Jack's assistance, and together they tugged
at the leading camel's nose-rope until the poor brute was literally
being dragged through the yielding sands. This method of progression not
proving very satisfactory, he next made laudable endeavour to enliven
the march by singing raucously a few bars from that old song, "The
Campbells are Coming."

"I just reckon they are comin'," Never Never Dave groaned, somewhat
confusing the reference; "but they need a jolly lot of persuasion, they
do. Get up, Repentance, you cross-eyed streak o' misery. Didn't I give
ye a drink last week?"

At length Mackay saw that they must be content to halt in the open for
one night more.

"We can't do it, boys," he said, "so let us look for a decent
camping-space in the sand; we'll find water if there's any about in the
morning."

They had barely time to gather a few twigs from the sparse brush now in
evidence, and start a feeble fire, before an impenetrable darkness
descended over the desert. Then they busied themselves unloading the
camels and preparing their frugal meal, the latter an operation which
rarely occupied much time, for obvious reasons. They were indeed in a
very deplorable plight at this period; the water-bags had given up much
of their store by evaporation, and they now contained but a very meagre
supply of the valuable liquid, and the camels were well-nigh dying on
their feet from sheer exhaustion.

The hour was quite late, and they were about to roll themselves in their
blankets, when suddenly a bright light flamed up luridly among the trees
in their course, and harshly through the still air rose the strains of a
native chant.

"By the Great Howlin' Billy!" growled Never Never Dave, "there's a
corroborree on to-night. It's mighty lucky we didn't reach the timber,
after all."

"If there's any nigs about there's bound to be water," asserted the
Shadow, with a chuckle of delight, and certainly his reasoning was
sound.

Higher and higher blazed the warning beacon, and louder and louder
sounded the warriors' dismal wailings, and through the leafless branches
of the eucalypti a wildly dancing band of ape-like figures could be
distinguished. The little group gazed at the ominous spectacle in
silence and with mingled feelings. The presence of a native tribe in the
neighbourhood was conclusive proof that an ample water supply was not
far off; indeed the aborigines of the Interior almost invariably hold
their corroborree ceremonials around the principal spring of the
district, for according to their belief a mighty spirit has its abode
in every desert pool or soak, and from the slimy depths thereof watches
over the welfare of his people. But when ought displeases this dread
"Wangul"--the great Dweller in the Waters--he visits his wrath upon the
land by drying up the springs and betaking himself elsewhere. It is a
wonderfully convenient idea, for it explains away all droughts and
following pestilences, and it appeals to the simple heathen instinct as
no finer teachings could. To propitiate this god of theirs many
ordinances are performed and numerous sacrifices offered, and should any
wandering members of an alien tribe happen to be near on such occasions,
they are promptly seized upon to occupy the unenviable position of
"Corroborree mourners," a post which entails death, preceded by much
horrible suffering.

Mackay was mentally recalling his various experiences with the natives
in different parts of the country, and with little sense of comfort,
when Emu Bill disturbed his musings by saying suddenly--

"I wonder what the howling celebration means to-night, anyway?"

The others had by this time gone to sleep, having been utterly worn out
by their trying day's encounter with the desert, and these two sat alone
by the dying fire.

"I'm just a wee bit afraid, Bill," answered Mackay, dubiously, "that it
has some bearing on our arrival. I never did like to be near the
murderous pests in the nighttime."

Bill stirred about uneasily, and it was clear that he shared Mackay's
fears.

"I believe you are right," he said, after a moment's pause. "The skunks
must have seen us a long way off."

He relapsed into a gloomy silence, and began to draw with great care
sundry diagrams in the sand with the improvised camp poker.

Meanwhile the whirling figures in the wood continued their mad career,
and the flames from the great fire in their midst spouted high above the
motionless mallee tips. The myriad stars twinkled merrily in an
unclouded sky, and the Southern Cross constellation shone out
brilliantly almost directly overhead. A slender crescent moon just above
the horizon lent its feeble halo to the scene, so that a vague, eerie
half light seemed to float on the surface of the land. Faster and still
faster the maddened Wangul worshippers rushed, and the night was filled
with their harsh, unmusical ravings.

Mackay watched the progress of events with quickening interest, while
Emu Bill with many a muttered malediction examined the charges in his
revolver, and smoked reflectively. Mackay was very unwilling to awake
the sleepers unless it were absolutely necessary; they needed all the
rest they could get. But Emu Bill recalled him to a sense of duty.

"I've been watching the circus," he said quietly, "an' I can see nary
mourner in the crowd. For a dead cert they'll be comin' fur us when
they've worked up enough enthusiasm. They'll imagine us to be asleep by
now."

Mackay got up without a word, and shook Bob and Jack back to
consciousness. Never Never Dave was alert on the instant, but the Shadow
slumbered deeply and refused to be awakened, whereupon Emu Bill aroused
him by rolling him rudely out of his blanket, a proceeding which almost
created a civil war on the spot.

"You has no right to dislocate my sweet dreams in such a dingo
fashion," the bellicose Shadow protested grumpily; but when he
understood the seriousness of the position his wrath dissolved speedily.
"At the same time I reckon you is a bit too much skeert about the antics
o' them muskitties," he remarked chidingly. "I was having a daisy dream,
I was; flooded rivers an' gold an' di'monds, an'----"

"Shut it off, Shad," unsympathetically interrupted the object of his
disapproval. "They're on our track now. Look!"

The corroborree fire continued to blaze up vividly, and the watchers
could see numerous naked savages piling on the logs and dancing amid the
showering sparks like denizens of the nether world. The circling mass of
grotesquely garbed warriors had broken up in apparent confusion, but
quickly they again came into view and re-formed on the edge of the zone
of illumination, then spreading fan-like to north and south, they came
slowly yet steadily towards the supposed sleeping camp. A moment more
and they were hidden from view in the intervening shadows.

"Things are beginning to look lively," said Bob, adjusting his
cartridge-belt.

Jack ranged himself quietly by his comrade's side, his rifle gripped in
readiness.

"I don't know how this is going to turn out, Bob," he said slowly; "but
I mean to shoot straight, to-night."

"It's a case o' self preservation, my lad," warned Mackay; and he closed
the breech of his powerful weapon with a vicious snap. "You needna think
o' usin' the stock o' your gun in this scrimmage. I am just afraid it's
goin' to be more serious than I thought."

There could be little doubt as to the meaning of the wily natives'
tactics. Assuredly they intended to surround the little camp, which they
considered to be safely asleep, and spear the party at their leisure.

"We are to be their sacrificial offerings, apparently," remarked Bob,
with forced calm.

Mackay was aroused to a sudden burst of fury at the words; his
long-smouldering anger against the natives effervesced to an alarming
pitch.

"I'll give them sacrifices," he grated, peering into the darkness with
eyes that seemed like glowing coals of fire over the gleaming barrel of
his rifle. "I'll make them think an earthquake has broken loose in their
midst. I'll--I'll----"

Indignation choked his fiery utterance, and he said no more, but toyed
lingeringly with the trigger of his gun.

A minute elapsed, it seemed an eternity, but no signs of the enemy could
yet be traced. Instinctively Bob's eyes returned to the recent centre of
affairs where the impish fire feeders were heaping on the logs with
frantic glee, and he shuddered involuntarily. The suspense was rapidly
becoming unbearable, and the little band expected every moment to be
overwhelmed with flying spears from some unlooked-for corner. Each pigmy
bush around to their overstrained vision took on the appearance of a
crouching warrior, and it was with the exercise of great restraint that
Mackay and his comrades refrained from firing at random into the night.
Slowly the seconds dragged their weary course, then all at once a weird
unearthly chorus reached the ears of the anxiously waiting group; it
seemed to come from everywhere around, and they turned about in dismay.
The attacking horde were closing in on them from all points of the
compass. Only when the ring had been completed had they begun their
deadly advance. Neither Mackay nor any of them had expected this.

"I reckon we is bested, mates," groaned Emu Bill, helplessly; and it
certainly did seem as if he spoke truly.

Another minute elapsed, then they grounded their arms in impotent rage;
the swelling chant from an unknown number of throats was drawing
insidiously nearer, and they could only roughly guess the various
origins of sound. Mackay turned to Jack to give a last word of
encouragement, and he was surprised to find the boy standing by Bob's
side in an attitude of acute attention--his head was bent forward, and
he shielded his ear with his hand as if he were listening intently.

"I've got them," he whispered eagerly. "Unless there's a dummy musician
in their ranks, there's a fifty yards' blank in the circle straight out
by the camel packs."

"How many do you make altogether, Jack?" inquired Mackay.

The boy replied promptly, "They seem to be about thirty yards or so
apart. They are nearly two hundred yards off now, and coming very
slowly. There must be nearly fifty of the beasts."

"Good for you, Jack," murmured Mackay, heartily, a tribute of praise
which even at that moment Emu Bill and the Shadow echoed with
characteristic vehemence.

There was no time to be lost, the fateful ring was closing every
instant; so, gripping his rifle tightly, the leader of the expedition
made a course out in the direction as indicated by Jack, his comrades
following after in Indian file. And as they passed out by the camels,
each man breathed a prayer for their safety; then, with the hideous
voices of the approaching warriors ringing in their ears, they made
their way stealthily out through the saving gap into the freedom beyond.

Surely never before had a course been steered by such odd reckoning, yet
the droning cries on either side of the escaping party as they neared
the edge of the invisible circle guided them as well as glaring beacons
would have done, and they manoeuvred cautiously through the midst of the
fervently singing band, luckily escaping all observation.

"It was like navigatin' through the Heads of Sydney Harbour," exclaimed
Emu Bill, flinging himself down on the sand immediately they had cleared
the dangerous line.

"We've got to thank our stars the beggars have the good sense to say
grace before supper," said Jack, cheerfully.

"We are no' just altogether out o' the difficulty yet," warned Mackay.
"They'll be back with a rush when they find out their mistake."

"But you ain't goin' to let them run the whole circus, surely?"
complained Emu Bill. "Let's pepper the howlin' dervishes now."

Mackay seemed to hesitate for a moment, the odds in numbers were greatly
against them.

"Train your guns on the old camp, boys," he said quietly. "You'll see
their black bodies against the glow o' the ashes when they get nearer."
He had scarcely spoken these words when the dismal chant of the
over-sanguine natives ceased, and with blood curdling yells the savage
horde swept on to their supposed work of extermination. The onlookers
saw a perfect hail of spears strike and quiver amid the smouldering
ashes; then a fantastical array of fiend-like forms swarmed before their
eyes, and prolonged shrieks of baffled rage rent the air. Now was their
opportunity. "Fire, boys!" cried Mackay, himself setting the example;
and the death-dealing weapons thundered out their grim challenge to the
foe. When they looked again only a fiercely struggling mass of black
humanity was visible, and the scattering sparks showed where the shots
had taken effect. Once more a well-directed volley was poured into the
surging crowd; but this time the flash of the rifles betrayed their
presence, and immediately about a dozen gaunt apparitions charged down
on the little party with vengeful shouts. It looked as if nothing could
stand against that maddened rush. In vain the rifles spoke, the members
of the attacking band seemed in no wise to diminish, their figures could
only be vaguely traced in the gloom.

[Illustration: "IT LOOKED AS IF NOTHING COULD STAND AGAINST THAT
MADDENED RUSH"]

"Keep easy, lads; keep easy," said Mackay, encouragingly. "Load up your
magazines, an' reserve every bullet until they are close on to us. We
can't miss them then, and it's our only hope of stopping them."

Bob, plying his almost red-hot rifle, checked himself at the words, and
calmly obeyed the instructions given; Jack, panting furiously with his
extreme exertions, grounded his loaded weapon and waited with something
like a gnawing despair at his heart. The Shadow grumbled incoherently to
himself, Emu Bill and Never Never Dave said not a word, but stood erect,
calm, and motionless beside Mackay, awaiting the shock. Then a strange
thing happened; while the demoralized natives around the vacated camp
kept up their frenzied rushing hither and thither, seeking aimlessly
their hidden enemy, the four camels of the expedition, aroused by the
unusual sounds prevailing, stalked slowly forward into the thick of the
mêlée, and there they stood, their long necks swaying curiously, like
fearsome spectres from an unknown world. A howl of terror burst from the
group who had located the position of the defenders, they ceased their
onward course, hesitated for a moment, then turned and fled
precipitately, an example which the rest of their stricken brethren
speedily thought fit to copy; and before Mackay or any of his companions
could realize what had happened, the entire assembly were in full
retreat, leaving the bulk of their spears and boomerangs littered on the
sand.

"Good for you, Misery!" applauded Jack, running forward, and the leader
of the team, hearing the well-known voice, staggered to meet him and
knelt at his feet.

"I reckon we owes them animiles the price o' our carcases," said Never
Never Dave, sententiously, as they walked quietly back to the deserted
camp-fire. They found their blankets lying as they had left them, but
transfixed with numberless spears, and after carefully extracting these
crude yet deadly missiles they replenished the fire with them, and lay
down to rest beside the ruddy glow, for it was now early morning, and
the air had become unpleasantly chill. The corroborree beacon had been
deserted, only occasional scattering sparks showing where the strange
ceremonial had taken place, and away in the distance the vague crackling
of branches indicated that the would-be annihilators of the camp were
already far from reach.

"Great Centipedes! That was a close shave," growled Emu Bill, before he
dropped off to sleep.

"But we have the advantage of knowing," returned Bob, with his usual
calm philosophy, "that we shall find water near where the beggars held
their odd orgy, and that should recompense for much." Then his eyes
closed in slumber, and he entered a realm of phantasies where hostile
aborigines and dreary salt plains were alike unknown. The weary strain
of the night was over.

They found water after daybreak as they had anticipated. It was
contained in a deep sunken rock-hole with an almost unfathomable bottom,
wherein one might well fancy some dread monster to exist. They refilled
the empty water-bags with thankful hearts, and, fearing another attack
in force that night, renewed their march early in the afternoon. It was
soon apparent that a better country had now been reached; dry it was
certainly, yet the soil showed a considerable improvement over that
already traversed, and the scrub became almost continuous instead of in
sparse and far-divided belts as formerly. But though all promised well
for an unusually favourable journey that day and for many days to come,
the presence of hostile bands of aborigines all along the route of
travel was too evident a feature of the landscape to be overlooked, and
the team had perforce to move onwards warily.

"I do hope," said Mackay, as the evening approached, "that the blacks
will give us a rest to-night. There's more risk in these scrimmages at
close quarters than is healthy."

Bob had arrived at that conclusion some time before. "We're not more
than fifty miles from the location you gave me of Bentley's last camp,"
he observed gravely. "If I shift the course slightly to the south
to-morrow we ought to be up at it in three days."

A spasm of pain crossed Mackay's face. "Ay, my lad, we'll need to be
extra cautious now," he said meaningly. "We mustna allow oursel's to be
wiped out before we come to the mountain. I've got a bit of a score to
settle in that quarter."

The sun was now but a few points above the western horizon, and his
fiery radiance bathed the great silent bushland in golden splendour. The
motionless mulga and mallee shrubs seemed ablaze with ruddy light, and
the wastes of sand shone as a sea of burnished bronze. Not a sound was
heard save the harsh cries of the gaily plumaged parrots that flitted
eerily from tree to tree, and the occasional dismal monotone of the
mopoke. Then suddenly from the shadow of a thicker clump of timber than
usual a series of yells rang out, and at the same time a shower of
spears whizzed overhead, and perilously close. Each member of the little
group realized in an instant what had happened, and seized his rifle.

"Get the camels under cover, boys!" cried Mackay, from his position well
ahead of the main party.

"There's nary bit o' cover!" roared back Emu Bill, who had
diplomatically stretched himself flat on the ground at the first alarm.
Whiz! splash! Even as he spoke a long quivering missile rushed through
the shadeless branches and penetrated the great water-bag overlapping
Remorse's flank. The stout canvas resisted the shock sufficiently to
save the animal from injury, but the precious and dearly-hoarded
contents gushed from the rent created in a copious flood. A cry of
horror broke from Bob, Jack uttered a wail of anguish, and an expression
of much fervour issued from Never Never Dave's mouth. With a bound
Mackay rushed forward in vain attempt to save the few remaining drops,
but it was not to be; before they had time to realize the seriousness of
their loss the gurgling stream had ceased; the canvas skin had given up
its store.

"I'll pulverize the hyena that did it!" howled the Shadow, dashing
forward through the scrub.

"I'm with you," cried Jack, following closely at his heels.

It all happened so quickly that Mackay had no time to give any
directions or restrain the indignant pair. Several further flights of
spears skimmed well overhead, and one or two barbed darts more surely
aimed, whistled dangerously near to Mackay's head.

"This is gettin' mighty monotonous," growled Emu Bill, looking around
impotently, for as yet not a single savage was to be seen.

"There must be water in the district," said Bob, coolly, examining his
revolver. "I suppose we've got to go on the hunt again." Without further
remark he turned and rushed after his companions, whose vehement shouts
as they charged along were mingled with the shrill cries of the dusky
warriors. "Try and catch one, Shadow," he loudly shouted as he ran.

Fearful that disaster might overtake the entire party, Mackay gripped
his rifle and hurried after them, leaving Emu Bill and Never Never Dave
in charge of the team, a position which they condemned bitterly at such
a time. The shadows of night were fast closing in, and between the trees
of the pigmy forest a heavy gloom had settled providing excellent cover
for the blacks should they have decided to renew the attack; but these
strange creatures, having discharged their weapons, were now beating a
retreat, yelling most hideously the while.

Scarcely fifty yards before him Mackay could dimly descry Jack, the
Shadow, and Bob leaping on after the fugitives, and he quickened his
pace in order to come up with them.

"We'll catch a specimen," cried Bob, eagerly, "if we have to chase them
all night."

On they raced, while the crackling branches a little way ahead betokened
the nearness of their quarry, whose shrieks alone would have been an
unerring guide. Evidently the fleeing warriors were just as tired as
their pursuers, for they were gradually losing ground. Suddenly one of
their number screeched out some sort of signal which had the effect of
making the runners scatter in all directions. Bob could just see their
shaggy heads above the bushes as they diverged on various tacks; then
the new order of things confused them all, and one by one the
gorilla-like figures vanished from their view. Yet still they kept up
the race, loth to return without some satisfaction. The night was
rapidly darkening, obscuring the scrub and intervening sand wastes in a
common pall, so that progress was made only with great difficulty, and
wearily the aimless search was continued.

"We'll have to turn, boys," said Mackay, at length, when the stars
commenced to glimmer in the heavens. "We must go back to the camels.
To-morrow we'll have a look round for water. And to think that we had
any amount of it this morning----"

A hearty exclamation from the Shadow interrupted him. They were passing
under an unusually large lime tree, and that youthful individual had
halted with an unrestrained roar of mingled merriment and relief.
Looking up against the stars Mackay could see an awkward figure
scrambling frantically among the higher branches.

"Treed! By Jove!" cried Bob, gazing upwards also.

"I reckoned I smelt <DW65>," said the Shadow, when he had recovered his
equanimity; "but if his long legs hadn't banged me on the cocoa-nut, I'd
never ha' thought o' lookin' in the tree for the skunk."

"And now comes the job o' gettin' him down," said Mackay. "An' it won't
be an easy contract either, judgin' by the way he hangs on to the
branches."

"The Shadow and I will soon attend to him," said Jack, with a laugh; and
without further ado he commenced to swarm up the small round trunk of
the tree.

"Be careful, Jack," warned Mackay. "He may smash your head before you
reach him."

"Will he, though?" growled the active climber, already half-way up.

"Strategy's the word, Jack," councilled the Shadow, as he prepared to
ascend to his companion's assistance. The lithe tree swayed under its
load, then bent until its lower limbs reached the ground.

"We'd better see that our prisoner doesn't make his escape by jumping
for it," remarked Bob, and he and Mackay therefore stood at opposite
sides of the tree, watching the huddled form with alert eyes. Nearer and
nearer Jack writhed his way to the top, and slowly the terrified
aboriginal retreated to the farthest limit of the branch on which he
rested, until it cracked ominously.

"I guess I've got you now," muttered Jack. "You just wait till I come to
you."

But the shivering savage had no such intention; and as Jack approached
he began to scream horribly, more after the manner of a wild beast than
a human being. Then he broke off bits of the lesser branches and twigs,
and showered them down on his implacable enemy.

"Just shake him off the branch an' I'll catch him," advised the Shadow,
worming his sinewy form along the limb directly underneath his prey.

In vain Jack endeavoured to grasp his prospective prisoner, the oily
native eluded him every time, and sorely tried the persistent besieger's
temper by keeping up a vicious fusillade of wood fragments. He had,
however, completely overlooked the presence of the Shadow directly
below, and when in the midst of a furious assault, his foot slipped
slightly, it was instantly seized by that watchful gentleman, and held
in a ruthless grip.

"Now, I reckon you've got to come," said he, evading the free limb's
onslaught with much dexterity. "Now! Stand from under, boys!"

Crash! They came down all three together, the top branch having broken
with the strain, but the height was not very great, and the sand below
was loosely packed.

"It's a jolly good thing," quoth the Shadow, "that the black beggar was
so nice and soft; it was just like bouncing on top o' a cushion, it
was."

Jack did not appear to be particularly grateful for anything as he
picked himself up, but he very promptly took an arm of the captive along
with the Shadow.

"Yes, that's right; take care of your prisoner now that you've got him,"
said Mackay, turning to lead the way back to the spot where the camel
team had been left. "We'll have to mak' the most o' his knowledge."

Then he addressed the sullen aboriginal, and by a constant repetition
of the word "Babba" (water), sought to make him understand their needs.
But it was all to no purpose. The captive made no sign, and only groaned
horribly when the question was pressed with a show of anger.

"All the same," sternly spoke Bob, "he'll have to tell us what he knows
before morning."

In a short time they had reached the camels, where Emu Bill and Never
Never Dave awaited them with ill-concealed impatience. But their joy on
observing the aboriginal was great indeed.

"I reckon he'll get water for us all right," said Emu Bill, as they
unloaded the camel. "I just reckon he will."

The Shadow now proceeded to build a fire, and soon the roaring flames
leapt up cheerily. Having no water, they could not make tea, so they
contented themselves with munching some pieces of damper, for which,
however, they had little appetite.

It was at this point that the prisoner showed signs of interest in the
proceedings, and Jack thereupon proffered him a substantial bunch of the
dry fare, which he seized and ate with avidity.

But still Mackay's repeated interrogations seemed to have no effect on
the savage, who kept glancing over to where the Shadow was gingerly
slicing up some tinned conglomeration which is served out to explorers
under a variety of names, and he opened his cavernous orifice
expectantly.

"The poor beggar is hungry," said Bob. "Let him have a piece of that
unknown substance, Shadow; if it does not kill him it may arouse some
sense of gratitude."

"He'd reduce our stores mighty quick," grumbled the Shadow, noting with
dismay how rapidly his hospitable offerings disappeared.

"Just hold on a jiff," murmured Emu Bill, thoughtfully. "I reckon I has
struck a daisy idea." He hastened over to the many sacks lying on the
ground where the camels had been unloaded, and came back with a handful
of salt. "When you are as old as I is, Shad," said he, graciously, "you
will know how to handle blacks, I calc'late. Does ye savvy?"

The Shadow took the salt with humble deference, and without a word
proceeded to mix it lavishly with the contents of a small tin of the
afore-mentioned compound, which he then handed to the hungry native.

"Eat every bit o' it, ye howlin' baboon," said he, kindly, "an' if ye
isn't as thirsty as a camel after it, I reckon there must be something
wrong wi' your construction."

Mackay and Bob listened to the schemers with amusement, then, as they
saw the ravenous heathen bolt the salt-laden meat with great gusto, they
forgot for a moment their own thirsty condition and indulged in a
paroxysm of laughter.

"For a certainty our dusky friend will want water badly soon," said Bob;
and they all sat around the camp fire and calmly awaited developments.
If their prisoner knew of the presence of water in the vicinity he must
surely endeavour to find it--half a pound of the strongest salt in his
interior might enlighten him as to the meaning of 'Babba Babba,' which
Mackay had repeated to him so persistently. And they were not mistaken.
Half an hour later he began to show unmistakable signs of uneasiness,
and his lips moved like the gills of a fish out of water. Then he
strained at the rope which bound him to a mulga sapling behind, and
rolled his eyes beseechingly.

"Better give him a full hour yet," said Mackay. "We can thirst just as
comfortably as he can now, I think."

Emu Bill chuckled dryly.

"I is a grand instructor o' furrin' languages," he said. "I just reckon
that that there <DW65> knows what water means now."

It was nearly midnight, and the slow minutes dragged like ages as they
sat around the fire anxiously watching the antics of the salt-gorged
aboriginal. For a long time no one spoke, but their basilisk-like glare
evidently disconcerted the sufferer in no little degree, and he
commenced to moan in an exceedingly melancholy manner, and endeavoured
to evade their gaze by every artifice in his power.

"He thinks we mean to eat him, and have been feeding him to make him
nice and plump!" hazarded Bob at length, and he had truly guessed the
captive's thoughts. However, the tortures of thirst were surely having
due effect on the poor savage, and his cries soon became most
distracting to the listeners' ears. Suddenly he broke into a wailing
chorus which echoed dismally through the still air, and caused even the
long-suffering camels to raise their heads in protest.

"B-bab-ba-bab-ba!" he cried, tugging strenuously at the binding cords.

"Patience ain't so bad a virtue, after all," soliloquized Emu Bill,
calmly slackening the rope from the tree, and gripping the free end of
it tightly. With a bound the native headed out into the densest part of
the scrub, almost pulling Bill over the sand in his frantic haste; the
rest of the party followed at their best speed. Their now tractable
guide did not lead them any distance. He stopped in a small hollow not
far from the scene of his capture, and with feverish hands scraped away
some covering twigs and branches, revealing to the onlookers' eager eyes
a glittering pool of clearest water.

With a deep gurgle of relief he buried his tangled visage in the spring,
and drank so deeply that the Shadow felt compelled to jerk him backwards
out of sheer regard for his welfare.

"It's mighty stupid o' ye drinkin' so much after a heavy supper," said
he, reprovingly. "It's real bad for your digestion, I reckon."




CHAPTER XIII

The Mystic Mountain


"Latitude 27° 42´ 10´´, longitude 128° 7´ 11´´." It was noon three days
after leaving Thirsty Spring, as their last strangely-found well had
been designated, and Bob read aloud these observations as he noted them
down in his log-book. They had reached the vicinity of Bentley's last
camp, and all eyes had been alert for the melancholy symbols of the
ill-fated expedition. Away to the east the country extended back in a
series of rugged "blows" until they suddenly merged into apparent
nothingness; a swelling, white haze obscured the true horizon in this
direction, but north and south well-wooded grassy plains stretched into
the dim distance. The uttermost edge of the desert seemed to have been
reached at last.

"Ay, it was just about here that the camel broke away," said Mackay,
musingly, "and over there"--he pointed to the east--"lies the mountain."

"It must be a terrible long way over there, Mac," commented Emu Bill,
"for we should see it 'bout forty miles off if it is any size, an' you
said it was a whopper."

Mackay looked puzzled; certainly no mountain was visible at this period.

"It _must_ be there," he reiterated grimly.

Bob, too, was much exercised over the prolonged absence of the desert
sentinel; it had figured so much in all their calculations that it had,
indeed, been the initial quest of the expedition.

"There's an extraordinary heat haze rising up straight ahead," said he.
"Perhaps it hides that shadowy mountain."

"It's there right enough," said Mackay, again. "I mind well that I didna
see it until I was right up against it."

"There's something mighty uncanny about this place," grunted Never Never
Dave, who had been gazing around suspiciously.

A gentle zephyr breeze wafted towards them from the obscuring mists, and
they sniffed the air wonderingly.

"Blow me tight, boys," muttered Emu Bill, "we has struck old Jimmy
Squarefoot's country."

"That are a fact," concurred Never Never Dave, solemnly; "we has come a
bit too far on this trip. No wonder poor ole Bentley didn't get back."

"Why, what is wrong?" asked Jack, in some alarm.

"What is wrong?" echoed Never Never. "Why, we must be near Hades, my
lad; don't you smell it?"

A strong odour of a pungent, sulphurous nature assuredly filled the air.
Mackay was equally mystified with the others, though he did not give
expression to his thoughts. He was trying to recall to the minutest
incident the happenings of over a year ago in the same district.

"I distinctly saw their tracks," he repeated, half to himself, "and the
bones----"

"But there ain't no bones now," interrupted Emu Bill. "There's some
curious mystery about this here place, there is."

A cry from the Shadow, who had gone exploring on his own account some
distance off, drew their attention. It was plain that he had discovered
something important, for he semaphored to them excitedly as they looked.
Silently they obeyed his summons, and in a few minutes were gazing at
the poor relics of the last expedition, where they lay half covered in
the sand.

There they were beyond a doubt, a mass of bleaching bones. Reverently
they uncovered their heads, then Mackay knelt down by the sad litter,
and great, dry sobs shook his breast. His companions turned away with
heavy eyes, all but Bob, who remained to comfort the grief-stricken man.

"We may at least bury the remains," he said sadly, "and I think we might
put up a small mark over the spot. There are lots of trees about which
we could cut down."

Mackay looked at him kindly. "Not yet, Bob, not yet," he muttered
hoarsely; "not till I have squared accounts with the wretches who
committed this crime. These poor fellows here were murdered after daring
the dangers o' the desert; their last mortal remains have awaited my
coming here on the surface o' the sweltering sands, and they cry to me
for vengeance--and vengeance they shall have before I cover them from
the light o' a just Heaven." He rose with forced calm and linked his arm
in Bob's. "You shall help me, Bob," he said earnestly; "you of all
people have a reason----"

He ceased abruptly as Emu Bill appeared once more. The tall bushman was
apparently much moved, though he strove to hide his sorrow.

"I has just been talkin' to Never Never," he began, in an even voice,
"an' we has come to the conclusion that we'll go an' wipe out some o'
them skunks who did this. I reckon we'll feel better after it."

Mackay smiled faintly. "I believe we are near the end o' our search for
the hidden treasure o' the Never Never," he said quietly. "The invisible
mountain must mark the entrance to the land we are seeking, but we may
have many a struggle before we triumph, but each difficulty overcome
will bring us nearer our goal. Let us move on once more, Bill; I must
see the other side o' the mountain----"

"An' nary one o' us is goin' back on you," said Emu Bill, with a grim
laugh. "Wherever that there perfume comes from, I reckon Never Never an'
me will see the end o' the journey."

They retraced their way to the camels, and in a short time were forcing
a trail on into the seething mists. And now the stumbling camel-train
experienced great difficulty in negotiating the many dry ravines that
lay in their course, and they climbed over the basaltic bluffs which now
and again reared their heads above the boulder-strewn expanse, only with
the extremest effort. The sun beat down pitilessly on the wayfarers, and
here the heat was, indeed, overpowering; it seemed to rise in long,
pulsating swells from the bare rocks and hang in a filmy cloud of
vapour, through which the eye could see but vaguely, as in a
dream-picture. On, on, the pioneers struggled, and as they proceeded,
the strange, sulphurous odour became more and more perceptible, until it
assailed the nostrils in sharp, burning breaths. Yet still the vision
ahead was clouded by dense white vapours, and the horizon remained
obscured. Then suddenly a curious thing happened: the shrouding curtain
in the near distance lifted up like a giant screen in a theatre, and
through the mists of dispelling ether a dark towering height loomed up
vividly.

"The mountain! the mountain!" cried Jack; and truly it was a mountain,
and a mountain of so precipitous and forbidding an aspect that it looked
like an immense black wall rising into the sky.

"That is just how I ran up against it before," said Mackay, calmly. "It
appeared all at once, and I wondered why I didna see it earlier."

"Well, this beats me," growled Emu Bill. "An' why in all the world
_didn't_ we see such a colossal monument before? We oughter have sighted
that there tower o' Babel at least two days back."

Even as he spoke a great white mask rose from the base of the towering
elevation, and in an instant the mighty landmark had vanished from their
view.

"I reckon we has had a sight o' ole Jimmy Squarefoot's furnace,"
remarked Never Never Dave, mysteriously. "An' don't it smell strong?"

"It jest howls," groaned Emu Bill, gasping hard.

Mackay kept an unmoved silence. He apparently had no intention of being
surprised at anything; but Bob somewhat eased the minds of the twain by
endeavouring to explain the phenomenon they had witnessed.

"The covering haze is nothing but steam," said he. "I think the mountain
must be volcanic."

Mackay shook his head. "I shouldna wonder if it is an extinct volcano,"
he said; "but there was no lava flow that I remember, and it
disappeared just the same."

Notwithstanding the odd happenings during the last few minutes, the
camels were not permitted to slacken their pace. Each and all of the
party had determined to probe the mystery to the fullest, and the
solution was soon forthcoming. As they forced their way into the densest
depths of the ghost-like curtain, they became quickly aware of a
gurgling, boiling sound almost at their feet. Bob's keen ears were the
first to catch the unwonted echoes; but before he could speak a
greenish-yellow cloud rolled before his eyes, and he staggered back,
choking wildly.

"Ease off, boys," spoke Mackay. "We must scout around an' investigate
before we go further."

The whole party, camels and all, were now enveloped in the wreathing
smoke-columns, and the sky was hidden from sight. Blindly Bob made a few
steps forward, keeping well to the right of the unseen caldron, which
now bubbled and foamed spasmodically. The Shadow followed, stumbling and
gasping, and within a minute the two found themselves in a clear and
untainted atmosphere, and but a yard or so from the base of the gloomy
mountain. Loudly they shouted to their companions, and soon the spectral
forms of the camels hove into view, with Mackay and Jack treading
cautiously at their head. But where were Emu Bill and Never Never Dave?
They seemed to have vanished completely.

"They were alongside Jack an' me a minute ago," said Mackay, gazing
wonderingly around.

"I reckon I'll go back an' see if they've stopped to look at the
scenery," grunted the Shadow; and he made a dash into the heavy fumes
once more.

The three who waited by the camels heard a startled cry, followed by a
faint splash, then all was silent. Hastily Mackay seized a camel
pack-rope, and would have rushed off after him, but Bob interfered.

"I think I can guess where to find them," he said. "Let me go."

With reluctance Mackay saw him depart; but before Bob had entered the
chaos the swelling mass rose before him, disclosing in his track a
broad, pit-like cavity. Hurriedly he strode to the edge of the caldron;
but ere he reached it the Shadow climbed out of its seething depths wet
and dripping, and saying strange things to himself. Immediately behind
him Never Never Dave's head popped up, and an eloquent flow of language
was let loose upon the air. Lastly, Emu Bill scrambled into the open. He
looked savagely around for a moment, until he caught sight of the
Shadow, and his wrath overflowed in a torrent of abuse. All three were
bedraggled enough looking specimens; but the last arrivals were
considerably worse off than the Shadow in that respect--their hair was
covered with a greenish scum, which spread down over their faces and
almost blinded them.

"It was all that wretched young Shadow's fault!" roared Emu Bill.

"But you were there first, Bill," remonstrated Mackay, laughingly.

"Of course we were. We went plump into the filthy boilers; but we got a
good grip o' the sides, and were sliding out quick an' lively, when,
blow me! if that howlin' scarecrow didn't bounce down on top o' us, an'
sent us swimmin' like tadpoles to the bottom. Ugh!"

But their indignation quelled speedily when they learnt how excellent
had been the intentions of the much-maligned youth.

"It must be a hot spring," said Bob.

"And there are more of them," cried Jack. "See, they are scattered all
round the foot of the mountain."

"I reckon it is hot, right enough," grumbled Emu Bill. "I'm just 'bout
turned into a Salamander, I is."

As Jack had noticed, quite a number of similar indentations formed a
line right along the base of the mountain, and in each yawning crater
examined, a greenish-yellow fluid bubbled tempestuously. High overhead
the smoke-wreaths dissembled into thin air, and for a brief space all
was beautifully clear. Then a dull rumble like the mutterings of subdued
thunder was heard, and immediately snowy puffs of smoke issued from the
strange cavities. The denser fumes rapidly spread along the ground like
a turbulent, foaming sea; then the whole seemed gradually to rise
upwards and suspend as a filmy pall before the face of the mountain.
Yet, strangely enough, the noxious odours were now almost absent.

"Ay, it's vera marvellous," said Mackay, with a sigh. "So does Nature
protect her treasure-houses."

"It's a wonder you managed to get through without accident when you
came," Bob observed thoughtfully. "But, then, it's possible the line was
clear when you passed."

"A breeze of wind would have lifted that fog," hazarded Jack. "I should
think that on some days the clouds would not be nearly so constant nor
so thick."

"You're possibly right, Jack," mused Mackay, looking upwards. "See how
the smoke curls in to the west now."

They all followed his gaze, and, surely enough, the mists appeared to
bend over before a powerful air current and break off into numberless
flying patches of lambent spray. Assuredly, a fairly strong blast must
be blowing on the mountain summit, though all was serene and unmoved
below. They now bethought themselves of having an inspection of the
wonderful elevation, which they had reached after so much weary
striving. There it stood, gaunt and bare, precipitous in outline, and
rising almost sheer to a height of over eight hundred feet, and as far
as the eye could reach in either direction along the base, the same grim
barrier appeared, but it curved in almost imperceptibly at each limit of
observation.

"The monument might stretch across into Queensland," said Emu Bill, "if
we tried to follow it round. I vote we does a scramble over the top."

"I tried that before, Bill," answered Mackay, "but I'm going to try it
again. Only we'll look for the easiest side before we start."

"But what about the camels?" asked Jack. "We can never get them over
it."

"An' we've got to remember that there's an all-fired quantity o'
bloodthirsty <DW65>s about," said Never Never Dave.

"Suppose we hobble them out on the other side of the smoke," suggested
Bob. "If the blacks stay beyond the mountain they couldn't very well see
them so close in, and the camels are too tired to wander much."

"It's a risk, Bob," said Mackay; "but the whole journey has been a risk,
an' it's the best we can do. We can keep an eye on them from the top--if
we get there."

"An' our rifles can speak for us from there well enough," laughed Emu
Bill; "an' there's one howlin' satisfaction about it, there's nary spear
could reach us."

And so it was arranged; the four tired beasts were unloaded, the bell
was unstrapped from Misery's neck, and the Shadow led them out to the
plains, manoeuvring most carefully in his passage between the bubbling
caldrons. In a few minutes he returned, with a somewhat anxious visage.

"I is pretty certain I saw a nig on the top o' the hill when I was out
back a bit," he announced.

"On the top o' the hill?" cried Emu Bill, incredulously. "Well, if they
don't pop too many spears at us, I don't mind if they stay there until
we get up."

"But you couldn't see anything through the haze, Shad," said Bob.

"I just did. The top o' the concern was shining strong in the sun, an' I
got a sight o' a big <DW65> dressed like a corroborree mourner standin'
looking' at me."

It was quite possible that the Shadow's information was correct, for the
fine haze in the upper air would barely have obscured the bold ridge of
the mountain summit, especially with the sun's rays beating strong upon
it. Yet it was evident that the young bushman's statement was received
with considerable unbelief.

"It's been a hallucination, Shad," laughed Jack.

It was already late in the afternoon, and it would have been useless to
attempt the climb that night, so a tour of investigation was made in
order to discover the least impregnable aspect of the frowning barrier,
and as the little party moved along they carried their rifles ready for
immediate action in case of a sudden alarm. But not a sign of natives
was observed, and they tramped mile after mile over the jagged rocky
_débris_ lining the base of the mountain without once noting an easier
place of ascent than that which they had first gazed upon. Not a trace
of vegetation showed on the steep declivity; the bare rocks scintillated
in the last rays of the setting sun, and showed up barren and
forbidding. Here and there deep clefts appeared, striating the gloomy
formation, and cutting deep into the heart of the mountain. It was one
of these that drew an exclamation from Mackay.

"That looks vera like the cap o' a gold-bearing lode showing at the
bottom o' the gully," he cried. He crept carefully into the yawning
crevice, and broke off a piece of the supposed auriferous stone with the
iron heel of his boot. "Decomposed diorite," he announced, "and showing
gold all over. I do believe the whole mountain is just a mass of gold
lodes an' leaders."

"Well, I'm blest," murmured Emu Bill, "if that don't beat
everything----"

"But we can't carry the hillock away," said Jack, hurriedly.

The difficulties of transport had at once appeared to his practical
mind, and his words acted as a restraining tonic on the exhilarating
spirits of the others.

"You're right there, Jack," agreed Mackay, with a smile, "but if we get
plenty of water on the other side, we could very soon get machinery out
here; an' I've a firm idea that our golden land o' promise lies just
beyond this barrier." He tapped the rocky surface with his hand
meditatively. "And more than that," he continued, with rising
excitement, "I believe we'll find rubies and diamonds as well. I mind we
picked up some rubies in the gullies around the last camp when I was
here before. At least, Phil, the geologist, said they were rubies, an'
I'd back his knowledge in that direction against any man's. He said they
had been shed from some mountain or other, but, of course, we hadna seen
the mountain at this time; and poor Phil never did see it, either."

They commenced to retrace their steps, for the night was fast closing
in, and as they walked along, Bob stooped down occasionally to pick up
pebbles from the silted driftage at his feet, and unobtrusively placed
them in his pocket for future inspection. They had almost reached the
place where they had unloaded the camels, when the Shadow shouted out
triumphantly--

"Look, boys! I reckon there ain't no mistake about that <DW65>, is
there?"

He was gazing at the ridge forming the summit of the mountain, and
looking up, Bob saw a tall, dishevelled figure standing against the
sky-line and waving his arms energetically.

"By gum, he is wild!" laughed Emu Bill; "an' what a dandy outfit he's
got; why, the beggar's got a 'possum blanket over him."

He raised his rifle mechanically, but Mackay had already levelled his
piece at the silhouetted form.

"Please don't shoot," pleaded Bob, staying his hand. "It almost seems
like murder to kill a man like that."

Mackay lowered his weapon with a groan, and Bob, looking upwards once
more, was astounded to see the object of his commiseration extending his
hands as if in benediction. He stood thus for a moment, then, with a
despairing gesture, pointed towards the Western desert.

"I'm glad I didna shoot," said Mackay; "that's the most wonderful
savage I've seen. He even tried to warn us not to come further."

"That was out o' gratitood for us not shootin'," laughed Emu Bill; "but,
blow me, I can't shoot a nig when he hasn't a spear or weapon o' some
sort in his hand."

When they looked again, the strange aboriginal was gone.

The spirits of the little party were unusually cheerful that night, as
they sat around their camp-fire and talked eagerly over their prospects
on the morrow. Their objective had been reached at last, the toil and
stress of the dreary journey was over, the reward--and of reward they
all seemed well assured--was now about to be theirs.

"I reckon I'll give ye a hymn o' praise on the orchestra," remarked the
Shadow, pulling his ear-shattering instrument from the pocket where it
had lain silent since the finding of Fortunate Spring.

"If ye does," threatened Emu Bill, "I'll dump ye in that there smelling
solution right over the head."

"Hang it, Bill," complained the unappreciated musician, "I ain't quite
dry yet, as it is. Couldn't ye think o' some happier kind o' return for
my professional services?"

"Anyhow," consoled Jack, "it wouldn't do to let the <DW65>s know we were
about; they might come for us when we were helplessly enslaved with your
melody."

The Shadow grinned. "Right O," said he; "music is off."

But Mackay had not seemed at all unwilling to encourage the youth's
suggestion.

"The blacks should ken we are about by this time," he observed lightly;
"but there are six good rifles in this camp, an' we might as well
encourage them to come out now as at any other time. There's going to be
a good moon up to-night."

"You might give us a tootle on the flute," said Never Never Dave; "I
hasn't heard ye play since we left Golden Flat."

"Let us have 'The Muskittie's Lament,'" urged the Shadow; "I is just
dyin' to stretch my voice a bit."

"No, Shadow; though you are a budding Sims Reeves, I can't sympathize
wi' you enough just now to listen to you singing. I must even deny you
the pleasure o' hearing me warble the old familiar tune to-night, for
I'm no' in the mood for waxing extravagantly joyous. But seein' we've
reached the deceivin' mountain at last, and without mishap, I'll gie ye
a blaw on the flute, if only to make this night something different from
other nights."

Jack fetched the flute with alacrity, and then seated himself beside
Bob, and soon the little group were listening in hushed silence to the
pensive strains of one of Balfe's melodies. When it was finished, the
man of many moods paused for a moment, and his eyes roamed instinctively
back towards the desert, and though the smoky cloud still intervened,
Bob guessed at once that he was again filled with swelling memories of
the past.

"Let us have something lively, Mac," said Emu Bill, "something that will
make us forget them pestiferous <DW65>s for a bit."

"I can't do it, Bill," came the husky response; "not here, not
to-night." Then he lifted the flute once more. "I'll play you one o'
Bentley's favourite hymns," he said gravely. "Well do I mind we used a'
to sing it whiles when we were on the march."

Softly into the night rose the notes; they lingered by each deep
crevasse on the mountain side, and echoed back from the rocky steeps.
Unspeakably entrancing was the effect. The musician himself seemed lost
in the wonderful sounds he created, and his hearers, after listening in
mute attention for some time, by a common impulse joined in with the
words, familiar to them all--


     "Lead, kindly Light,...
     Lead Thou me on."


And as the rough voices swelled upwards, a weird answering chorus
floated back to them from the summit of the mountain, and lo! several
dark forms appeared outlined against the starry sky. Emu Bill ceased his
vocal exercises at once, and squirmed about uneasily until the flute
stopped.

"Say, mates," said he, anxiously; "I hope it ain't no corroborree song
they is singin'."

Mackay glanced upwards, then hastily grasped his rifle, but the vague
voices in the air broke afresh upon his ears just as he was about to
pull the trigger, and he laid the deadly weapon down with a shudder.

"They are actually mimicking that bonnie hymn," he said nervously. "I--I
haven't the heart to shoot----"

"And aren't their voices almost musical!" cried Jack, whose ear was
keenly attuned to melody. "They make a very much better attempt than our
corroborree savages did about a week ago; their voices were simply
hideous."

"The aborigines are born mimics, Jack," answered Mackay; "but, as you
say, their song is usually enough to drive a man to drink--providin' he
can get it. Still there may be a different sort o' savage in this
mysterious country. If the land itself is better, it would influence
the people, and who knows maybe they have acquired some accomplishments
unknown to their brethren on the flats."

"I can't make them out at all," said Bob, quietly. "Everything seems so
unreal, so--so uncanny about here, and these <DW65>s singing that hymn
have given me the creeps."

"Let me have one go at 'The Muskittie's Lament,'" pleaded the Shadow. "I
reckon it would bust them up to mimic that high note----"

"You leave that long-suffering muskittie alone," said Mackay. "We'll
bust them up wi' something more solid in the morning. I'll climb that
mountain or go under trying."

Conversation somewhat flagged after that. The events of the day had all
been so strange and inexplicable; the lure of the mountain was becoming
oppressively potent, and each of the staunch little band was filled with
his own secret convictions regarding what might lie beyond.

"Better turn into your blankets, boys," said Mackay, at length. "You'll
need all your energies in the morning. I'm going to keep watch and see
that nothing happens while you sleep. I'm not going to risk another wipe
out in this quarter."

"You ain't goin' to do sentry go on your own," spoke Never Never Dave.
"I reckon I'll take my turn."

"An' me, of course!" cried Emu Bill.

"And ain't the poor, low-down Shadow any good?" complained that
individual, pathetically. "Let me do a prance round, boss. I ain't a bit
sleepy."

"Let Jack and me take it for the first night," said Bob, quietly.

Mackay laughed. "I know you are all vera willing, my lads, but the
first night is my care; I'll ask Bob, who is next in responsibility, to
take part o' the watch. Jack and the Shadow will be on duty to-morrow
night, and you, Bill and Never Never, can take the next;" which equable
arrangement appeared to suit every one.

Then Bob arose, rifle in hand, and stepped forward.

"No, no, Bob; not yet," said Mackay. "I'll call you in three or four
hours to take a spell. Lie down and sleep for a bit, my lad."

But Bob was obdurate. "You've been wearing yourself out these last few
days," he said simply. "You can surely trust me to fill your place for
the first half of the night, at least. Perhaps I may not need to call
you, for I know I couldn't sleep if I tried. My brain is buzzing with
odd ideas, which would be bound to keep me awake."

The elder man hesitated for a moment, then gave in. "But promise to call
me at one o'clock, Bob," he said, "otherwise I'll stay up with you;" and
Bob promised.

A few minutes and a row of sleeping figures lay outstretched around the
fire. Bob tightened up his cartridge-belt, pulled up the heads of
several cartridges so that they might be easily extracted in an
emergency, examined the magazine of his gun, and closed the breech
gently, bringing the trigger to full cock. Then he waited, motionless as
a statue, beside the huddled forms of his comrades, with rifle upraised,
and every nerve strung at highest tension. Well he knew that danger
threatened; he felt it in the air; an ominous calm prevailed; how soon
would it be broken by the savage yells of the guardians of the mountain?
Bob gripped his rifle the tighter, and his eyes scanned the near
distance critically, then roamed aloft to the now deserted mountain
summit. A slight sound startled him, and his finger closed gently on the
trigger of his weapon, but it was only Mackay tossing restlessly in his
blanket. Bob looked pityingly at the sleepless form, and at that moment
Mackay beckoned him.

"I canna get it out o' my mind," he whispered, "that when I followed the
tracks o' the blacks, they led right into the mountain an' no' round
about it, an' it beats me to know how they managed to climb over so
quickly. Keep a careful watch, Bob; keep a careful watch."

Bob nodded silently and returned to his position. He had unconsciously
shared Mackay's fears before they had been spoken. Since he first saw
the mysterious mount he had marvelled how it had been scaled, and how
descents had been accomplished.

The Southern Cross slowly sank to rest, and the edge of the Great Bear
constellation peeped above the northern horizon. Yet still the watcher
stood erect at his post, and the camp slumbered.




CHAPTER XIV

The Struggle by the Mountain


It was well after midnight, and Bob still stood guard over the sleeping
camp with undiminished vigilance. Not a sound in the air escaped him; he
heard the distant scream of the curlew with a shiver of dread, then
nearer at hand the dull monotone of a mopoke resting on some rocky ledge
overhead would reach his ears as a dismal calling from a shadowy world.
Again would come a period of silence, broken only by the gurgling echoes
from the sulphur springs, and the regular breathing of the sleepers. Bob
pulled himself together impatiently, he had felt himself relaxing into a
kind of stupor wherein all things grim and melancholy appeared to him.

"I wouldn't have believed," he muttered, "what a shattering influence a
night watch has on a man's nerves."

The long wailing cry of a dingo now penetrated piercingly over the
desert from the west, and the watcher stirred uneasily at the mournful
sound which seemed to convey in it all the sadness and despair of a
voice from the nether world.

The weird notes had scarcely died away when he became conscious of a
peculiar tap-tapping almost close beside him. He could not make it out;
the black surface of the barring range rose before his eyes, but he
could distinguish nothing there, and the moon shone clearly on the
giant rock. Tap! Tap! Tap! Softly the echoes came but imperceptibly
growing louder; anxiously he scanned the bare hillside for some clue to
the mystery, and as his eyes reached the ridge of the mountain he was
startled to see a tall beshrouded figure standing there, and apparently
gazing down upon him. Bob was certain the apparition had not been in the
same place but a minute ago, and surely he could not be responsible for
these strange noises which seemed to come from the mountain, yet with no
cause showing. Tap! Tap! Tap! Harsher and more metallic the ghostly
reverberations rang, and now a faint call wafted down from the heights;
again and again it came, gently falling on the mystified listener's ears
like a voice from the skies, and the strange figure aloft waved his arms
in wild gesticulation. Sharper and still sharper sounded the
demoralizing tapping, and with it now came a curious shuffling, slight
almost to noiselessness, but Bob's sensitive ears were not to be
deceived. A cold sweat broke out upon his brow; the vague disturbances
of the night were issuing not from the side of the mountain, but from
its interior! With a quick stride he reached Mackay, and at a touch the
sleeper awoke.

"What is it, lad, what is it?" he asked, breathlessly, his rifle already
in his hand.

Bob placed his finger on his lips, and pointed silently to the mountain.

"They're coming _through_ it!" he whispered, hoarsely.

Mackay nodded briefly, and strode silently over to the resounding wall,
and Bob hastily aroused the sleepers. In a moment the camp was prepared,
and meanwhile Mackay was walking stealthily along the base of the mount,
his ears bent down to the rock as he strove to locate the mysterious
alarms. And now the distant call from the hilltop floated down to them
once more, and Emu Bill started at the sound, and looked up wonderingly,
for the faint double note of a coo-ee had this time been plainly heard,
and the tall form on the distant heights was despairingly pointing
outwards across the desert.

"That <DW65> can coo-ee like a good 'un," muttered he, "an' he's tryin'
to warn us. I reckon that's because we didn't shoot him to-day; but I
never believed a nig could feel any gratitood."

Suddenly the echoes ceased, and all was silent as a tomb. Bob looked,
and saw Mackay crouched hard against the rocky wall on the edge of a
deep fissure which showed down half the face of the mountain. He seemed
like an animal preparing for a deadly spring.

"I reckon we should go over beside him," said Never Never Dave, but so
speedy had been the developments of events that there was no time to
decide upon a definite course of action. Indeed, not one of the party
guessed what wild happening was about to take place. Bob somehow
expected to hear the preliminary yells of an attacking horde, even as
they had heard them before, but no such outcry took place. He saw Mackay
beckon wildly with one hand over his shoulder, and quickly he obeyed the
summons, the others following with silent footsteps. Then a stone
clattered noisily at the bottom of the ravine, and to Bob's amazement, a
swarthy face appeared from the depths, surmounted by a tall waving
head-dress of feathers. As the warrior emerged further into view, Bob's
astonishment increased, for here was no naked savage, but a gorgeously
arrayed aboriginal, splendidly proportioned, and carrying in his hand a
long curved bow and several arrows. Bob had just time to note this much
and no more, for Mackay's rifle belched out almost in the new arrival's
face, but the shot had been fired with the hands resting loosely on the
ground, and the bullet sped high, scattering the nodding plumes of the
astonished black in all directions. With a cry of pent-up fury, Mackay
lunged forward to grasp his prey, and at once the stalwart native closed
with him. And now crowding up behind, one by one, a solemn procession of
similarly attired warriors came trooping. The first of the number
without hesitation rushed to the assistance of his struggling comrade,
the others calmly bore down upon the little group, who, with Bob at
their head, had watched the scene as in a dream. With a hoarse snarl of
rage Never Never Dave opened fire, and almost at the same instant the
entire artillery of the camp spouted out flame and smoke and leaden
hail. In reply, a cloud of arrows flew about their heads, and Bob felt
one pierce the muscle of his arm, but he pulled out the slender barb
with a wrench, and again his rifle spoke, and the roar of many reports
in his ears told him that his comrades too were strenuously engaged.
Backwards and forwards the spectral warriors surged, and yet never a
sound escaped their lips, and they strove with steady effort to come to
close quarters with the camp defenders.

Meanwhile, Mackay was engaged in desperate encounter on the edge of the
fray. His first antagonist he had flung from him almost immediately,
limp and broken, from that dreadful clutch. The second he had rendered
_hors de combat_ with a single blow of his mighty fist. Then two more
rushed upon him, but profiting by the experience of their brethren they
evaded his circling arms, and hurled themselves upon his lower limbs,
and there they clutched leech-like, while others hastened to attack him
from behind. Mackay marvelled for the moment why they had not shot him
down with their arrows; his own rifle had been thrown aside after the
first fruitless shot, but now his revolver flashed in his hand, and the
weighty stock came down crash on the head of his nearest encumbrance,
but before he could use it again, he was seized from the back and pulled
to the earth, yet even as he fell his revolver exploded upwards into the
faces of his foes, and he chuckled in grim joy as he felt their relaxing
hold. It was at this stage that Bob missed him from their midst. The
attack had drawn off somewhat, and he glanced around for the first time
in search of his companions. Then he noticed the seething band standing
over the fallen giant, and a wild fury filled his heart.

"Come on, boys," he cried, "Mackay's down!" and he dashed to the rescue.

Quick as he was Never Never Dave was quicker, and his clubbed rifle
swung light as a feather in his strong right hand, but it fell heavy as
lead on the heads of the all too previous natives, who had not looked
for further molestation from that quarter. With a guttural exclamation
they leaped aside, and Mackay arose bleeding and scarred. But the end
was not yet; even while the defenders were congratulating themselves on
their victory the natives once more swooped down upon them, and their
arrows whistled loudly through the air. They had guessed that the
death-dealing weapons of the little party had lost their power, for
indeed there had not been a shot fired these many minutes, and the
magazines of the rifles were empty. But they still had their revolvers,
and at the first discharge the angry blacks seemed to waver, but still
they came on. As in a dream Bob saw a wild, grinning face peering into
his, while a heavy club was raised to strike; vainly he tried to lift
his revolver, the blood rushed to his head, his brain reeled, another
instant and the blow would have fallen, when, with a stifled cry, Jack
dashed before him and sprang fiercely at the savage's throat. The very
force of his onslaught bore back the gloating native, the club fell, but
it fell harmlessly to the ground as Jack's fingers closed on its owner's
throat. But the warrior had had enough; disentangling himself from the
youth's grasp, with many a wriggle and gasp, he turned and fled, and
when Jack looked round he found that the entire enemy had vanished.

"Now, boys," said Mackay, cheerily, "let us estimate the damage. You,
Bob, have got an arrow-hole in your arm, an' I'm surprised you've
managed to hold out so long, but if you had got that crack on the head
that was meant for you, you would never have seen old England again."

Bob laughed weakly. "I'm pretty right," he said. "What about yourself?"

"Nothing serious, my lad; and you, Jack?"

"Not a scratch," responded that youth, brightly.

"As for me, boys," echoed out Emu Bill's voice dismally, "I'm a regular
pin-cushion, I am. I reckon they've ventilated me a bit; but hang it
all, them arrows don't hurt worth a cent."

But where were the Shadow and Never Never Dave? The former they found
sitting moodily by the base of the mountain, his back propped against it
for support.

"That there last rush 'bout finished me," he said. "A howling gorilla
gave me a tender smack on the back wi' his club, an'--an' I believe it's
broken."

Mackay laughed. "The back or the club, Shadow?" said he; whereat the
sorrowful youngster arose painfully to his feet, and communed with
himself in language deep and eloquent.

"Where in thunder has Never Never gone?" cried Emu Bill, anxiously, as
they looked in vain for the well-known figure of the bushman.

"He was beside me when that last rush came on," said Jack, almost
tearfully. "I didn't see what happened to any one after that."

"Dave! Dave!" cried Emu Bill, and there was a quiver in his voice which
sounded strangely on his lips. "Where are you, Dave?"

Then a thin, weak voice answered out of the gloom by the ravine.

"I is right here, Bill, old man, right here."

And there they found him, lying aslant on the loose _débris_ as he had
fallen, an inert mass. His face was upturned to the sky, and his breath
issued between his clenched teeth in long spasmodic jerks. He smiled
feebly as they bent over him.

"I'm sent for this trip, boys," he murmured.

"Don't say that, Dave," groaned Emu Bill, in anguish; "you ain't goin'
to leave your old comrade, Dave?"

Mackay knelt down by the stricken man and placed his hand over the
feebly beating heart, and a hoarse cry of pain burst from his lips,
which was echoed by the sad little group around.

"They must have given you a sair crack, Davie, man," said he, "a sair,
sair crack."

Then he caught sight of the broken butts of two arrows in the
sufferer's broad chest, and he turned aside with a heavy sigh.

"Never Never's going, lads," he said, with deep emotion. "Say your
good-byes before it is too late."

Emu Bill gently pillowed his dying comrade's head upon his knee, and the
tears ran down his rugged cheeks unchecked, and dropped upon Never Never
Dave's pallid face.

[Illustration: "EMU BILL GENTLY PILLOWED HIS DYING COMRADE'S HEAD UPON
HIS KNEE"]

"Couldn't we carry him over and lay him on the blankets?" whispered Bob.

Mackay sadly shook his head. Then Never Never Dave opened his eyes and
glanced at the sorrowing assembly, while his old smile struggled to his
lips.

"Good-bye, boys," he whispered, "don't fret 'bout me. I is goin' on a
long, long trail, where there ain't no nigs an' no snakes. Never Never
has made his last bush journey, I reckon. But--but--we reached the
mountain." He ceased and laboured for breath, while the blood welled out
from his cruel wounds with the exertion. Silently each pressed round and
squeezed the bushman's rough and horny hand in a farewell grip. Once
more the man whose life-blood was ebbing so cruelly fast away spoke, but
now he was in the fantasy of delirium. "We'll get the spring all right,
Bob. Don't worry, my lad--and the mountain, wi' gold and diamonds--we'll
reach it, after all. Over the mountain--over--the--mountain." And so
Never Never Dave went forth himself on a new quest with a smile on his
lips, the smile of a man who knew no fear even at the end of his earthly
pilgrimage. Emu Bill gathered the stiffening form in his arms, gulping
down the great sobs with an effort, and tenderly he carried his lifeless
burden over to the camp-fire, and sad indeed were the hearts of the
melancholy procession which followed.

"I reckon Never Never has had his wish, anyhow," said Emu Bill, quietly.
"He has passed in his checks with his boots on."

"May we a' go out on the long trail as bravely," spoke Mackay, solemnly.
"Dave has gone over the mountain right enough. Over the mountain o'
earthly difficulty and down through the valley of the shadow. We should
not pity him now, boys, for he's free o' all the sorrows an' cares, an'
disappointments o' this vale o' tears. But we mustn't forget the living,
lads, though we respect the dead, or there may be more o' us starting
out on the long trail before sunrise. Get a lamp, Jack, an' we'll have a
look at that gully where they came out."

"You're right, Mac," answered Emu Bill; "I'll get a pick too, in case we
need it."

The lamp was speedily brought, and they started over to the gully whence
the natives had emerged, and as they crossed the scene of their conflict
Jack stumbled over the dead body of one of the warriors. He shuddered
painfully, and Bob, who was at his hand, drew him aside.

"There are three more of them, Jack," he whispered. "Never Never, hasn't
gone under unavenged."

Mackay heard the words, and he laughed harshly.

"Ay, there's three more o' them, Bob," he said, "and there's a dozen
more who feel a bit mair pained in their anatomy than we do."

They reached the treacherous ravine, and Mackay, taking the lamp in his
hand, cautiously moved forwards and downwards into the deep recess, and
gazed at the rocky rubble there strewn in bewilderment. In a moment Emu
Bill stood beside him, pick in hand, but he too was nonplussed
completely by the very natural appearance of affairs.

"I'll swear I saw them come outen this here hole," he said.

"We can't blame ourselves vera much for neglectin' to notice things,"
agreed Mackay, with a grim smile.

In the depths of the fissure which striated the mountain, only a number
of loose boulders were to be seen.

"I reckon I'll try and shift some o' them," spoke Emu Bill. He stooped
down and lifted one or two of the heaviest rock fragments, while Mackay
held the light, and examined the markings on the walls of the cavern
with keen interest.

"There ain't no opening here at all," cried Emu Bill, looking round
fearfully, as if half expecting to find the savages still close in the
vicinity. "I'm certain sure they couldn't get through here."

Mackay smiled. "I don't know what sort o' blacks we've struck, Bill," he
said earnestly; "but if they constructed this trap-door arrangement
they've got a wonderful amount o' intelligence."

He traced with his finger an irregularly shaped shelving crack in the
southerly wall. It seemed a perfectly natural occurrence in every way,
as indeed it was, but the edges gaped considerably towards the top, and
Mackay, pressing lightly against the mossy front, caused the overlapping
rim to close solid into the rock. By this time Bob, Jack, and the Shadow
had scrambled in beside the two.

"But they couldn't get through that measly crack," protested Emu Bill,
not quite understanding.

Mackay reached for the pick, and inserting the sharp point into the
thin, almost unnoticeable crack now showing, pulled gently, and behold,
the weighty rock swung back on end revealing a narrow, tunnel-like
entrance penetrating into the mountain. At the same time a draught of
damp and stifling air issued from the dark and gloomy passage way,
extinguishing the lamp, and before they could look again, the rock fell
softly back into position, and this time it closed with a snap. Again
Mackay endeavoured to lever it open, but now the solid formation refused
to be moved; try as he might, the doorway into the mountain seemed
closed conclusively against him.

"Surely it cannot be a natural cave formation?" said Bob.

"Nary cave, Bob," returned Emu Bill, decisively.

"Not in a diorite rock," added Mackay, much perplexed.

They stood gazing at the tantalizing face of the ponderous doorway for
some time without speaking. Then Mackay was aroused to action.

"We'll find out all about it before we go away from here," he said, "but
in the meantime we'll barricade the swinging rock on this side to
prevent any one coming out. I have an idea that it wasn't right closed
at first or we would never have been able to find it; the blacks were in
too great a hurry to be cautious, I'm thinking."

With a will they all set to work and built up a rampart of massive
boulders in the ravine. Then they sadly went back to the camp-fire to
await the coming of the dawn. All thought of sleep had left them now,
and they sat moodily by the flickering flames for some time without a
word being spoken, then as the chill morning air made itself felt,
Bob's wounded arm, which he had not yet examined, began to grow stiff,
and his head throbbed painfully. The Shadow, too, was far from
comfortable, though he made no complaint, and he fought against his
growing weakness manfully but at last, with a weary sigh, he fell back
limp on his blanket. Then Mackay rose with an exclamation of regret.

"Bill," he said, "we've forgotten that these young mates of ours are
scarcely as tough as we are. We'd better try an' doctor up their bruises
a bit."

Emu Bill staggered to his feet with a sympathetic grunt, and walked
blindly towards the camel packs in search of something that might serve
for bandages, and Mackay stooped over the fallen Shadow and pulled back
the neck of his much-torn shirt. The cause of that individual's relapse
was not difficult to find, a great jagged gash on the young bushman's
shoulder showed what a fierce blow he had received, evidently from a
flint-studded club. Jack hurried to fetch water to lave the bloody
wound, but the Shadow refused to receive any attention.

"Let the thing dry, boss," he said, sitting up once more. "I reckon I
ain't no tender chicken to howl 'bout a muskittie bite."

Bob's memento of the affray was a little more serious; one of the barbs
of the arrow had broken in his arm, keeping the wound open, and the
blood was still dripping down his sleeve in great gouty drops. Mackay
carefully cut out the splintered wood with the point of his
sheath-knife, an acutely painful operation; but the patient never
winced.

Then Emu Bill returned. "I can't find nary cloth 'ceptin' flour-bags,"
he announced. "Take a bit o' this here shirt o' mine."

He ripped off a sleeve of his garment and handed it to Mackay, and with
it Bob's arm was soon tightly dressed. And now the rosy light of
approaching dawn began to spread over the scene, and the stars faded out
one by one before the radiant sun's advance. Morning had come at last.
Yes, morning had come, and with it appeared in all their grim
hideousness the evidences of the long night's struggle. There was Never
Never Dave stretched beside them, his calm white face gazing peacefully
towards the heavens. A little way off four huddled forms lay bent up in
the dust, their torn plumes scattered around them. Here and there arrows
and clubs were strewn, and gory tracks marked the way towards the
subterranean passage wherein the warriors had retreated. Bob surveyed
the ghastly relics with a sorrowful countenance. Here to him was a new
aspect of the wanderer's life. In the pursuit of Nature's treasure the
risks were many if the rewards were great. All was not sunshine and
romance and pleasurable excitement. He stood for some minutes in silent
contemplation.

"Yes," he said aloud, "and I, too, would have been lying there, had it
not been for you, Jack."

"Don't speak about it, Bob," returned the boy at his side, with a
shudder. "How could I have gone home without you?"

Mackay had, in the mean time, been examining the discarded weapons of
the aborigines with critical interest.

"It seems to me," he said quietly, "that we might all have been lying
there if the warriors hadn't imagined us to be asleep. I can only find
about twenty arrows altogether. I think they could only have carried one
or two each, never dreaming they would have need for more."

"I reckon that is why they tried to rush us every time," remarked Emu
Bill. "They were too cock-sure, they were; an' we've got to be thankful
for it. But ain't this a funny get up for nigs, even if they is on for a
corroborree dance?"

He pointed to the strange habiliments of the dead warriors. Each native
was cloaked in a rich opossum robe, suspended from the shoulders almost
down to the heels.

"I can't make them out, Bill," said Mackay. "They are different from any
tribe I've ever run across before. They're bigger than an ordinary
native, and their faces look almost intelligent. But we've forgotten
about the mountain passage. Surely the blacks couldn't have made that.
There's more o' a mystery here than I can fathom, Bill; but we'll soon
know what it all means."

"I just reckon we will," grated Emu Bill as they turned away.

Jack, who was now the most active member of the party, was not long in
preparing breakfast, and the stimulating influence of the boiling tea
did much to revive their weary spirits.

"If only Never Never hadn't gone under," said the Shadow, as he munched
at his hard, unpalatable damper fare, "I could have felt real joyous, I
could. I reckon we has struck the land o' gold and di'monds right
enough."

The mysterious mountain had assuredly grown more and more mystifying.
What wonderful secret could be hid beyond? What strange people could
have made the tunnel through its mighty heart?

"I am convinced we are about to make a wonderful discovery," said Bob.
"Ordinary aborigines could never have constructed that passage----"

"And allowing that they could," interjected Jack; "what purpose is it
supposed to serve?"

"I reckon it's the treasure chamber o' the Never Never we has struck at
last," observed Emu Bill, with quiet assurance. "Nary man ever knew what
to expect in this here country; but we has struck the secret, only poor
old Dave ain't with us no more."

There was no doubt that the expedition had reached a region of strange
mystery in the heart of the great unknown land of the Never Never. Their
humble repast over, there now came the sad duty of interring the body of
their dead comrade. Silently they filed off, armed with pick and shovel,
in search of a soft spot in which to dig the grave. But no kindly soil
was to be found; the bare rock appeared everywhere immediately below the
surface.

"There's only one thing we can do," said Mackay. "We must drill and
shoot a hole down wi' gelignite, that is, unless we carry poor Dave out
across these springs into the desert, but for my part I'd rather bury
him close into the mountain. I think he would have liked it himself. Let
us give poor old Dave a big monument, boys, I'm sure none o' us will
grudge the work."

Grudge the work? Not they. It was the last tribute they could pay to the
faithful and brave companion of their travels, and with heavy hearts
they set about their task. A case of gelignite had been included in the
outfit of the expedition in anticipation of any valuable ore deposits
being found which might necessitate blasting before samples could be
obtained, and now for the first time the deadly explosive was called
into requisition, and for a most melancholy purpose. The long steel
drills which had done such good work in the Golden Promise Mine were
also called into play, and all forenoon Mackay and Emu Bill laboured at
their sad work, relieved occasionally by Jack, the Shadow, and Bob, for
though the last two were then wholly unfitted for any exertion, they
insisted on taking their turn, Bob swinging the great hammer with his
one free hand, while the Shadow held and turned the drill. At every half
hour or so the mighty roar of an explosion would burst forth from the
rocky excavation, and a hail of boulders and showers of iron sand were
hurled into the air.

In the midst of this turmoil Bob happened to look up, and he was
scarcely surprised to see the same gloomy figure on the mountain summit
watching their operations intently.

"I can understand his warning now," he muttered to himself. "He knew
they were going to attack us from the tunnel. But why should he have
wished to save us?"

The more he considered the matter the more puzzled he became. Then he
observed quite a number of the oddly garbed natives join their companion
on the hilltop. Again and again the dull boom of the heavy gelignite
charges echoed out on the still air, and after each ponderous report a
fresh group seemed to gather up aloft until Bob could count fully fifty
of them.

"I reckon this here circus sort o' disturbs them," grunted Emu Bill.

Mackay looked anxious. "I hope there's no more o' them," he remarked
gravely. "We've struck a bigger-sized tribe than we calculated on,
Bill, an' we'll have to be vera cautious."

At last the tomb was completed and reverently they wrapped the dead man
in his blanket and carried him to his last earthly rest. No tears now
dimmed their eyes, their sorrow was deep set in the heart; it had passed
the mere emotional stage, and could find relief only in strenuous
action. Then they stood around the open grave with bowed heads, while
Mackay repeated a brief prayer. Long afterwards Bob remembered the quiet
dignity of his utterance, the simple eloquence of his tribute, and the
whole pathetic scene would return to him with all its overwhelming
memories. When he had finished, they shovelled in the loose sand and
rubble in solemn silence, and built up a cairn over the top.

The natives from their position of vantage had gazed stolidly down on
them throughout the entire ceremonial; but now they dispersed, leaving
but one solitary watcher on the height.

"We'll have to plant these natives now," said Mackay; "we can't leave
them lying like that."

They walked over and surveyed the bodies again, and the Shadow taking
the long opossum robe from one of them, threw it over his own shoulders
with a chuckle of satisfaction.

"I reckon this here ornament should just fit me," said he, turning round
for inspection.

Emu Bill laughed hoarsely. "Throw the wretched thing away, Shad," he
growled. "Ye doesn't want to wear a nig's wardrobe, does ye?"

But a wild idea had just then entered Mackay's head; he bent down and
gathered several of the emu feathers lying around; these he stuck in
the Shadow's hair much to that youth's disgust.

"Why, Shad, if your face was blacked you'd pass for one of the
warriors!" exclaimed Jack, noting the effect at once.

"We'll save these decorations for future use," said Mackay, quietly.

Emu Bill whistled softly, "I never thought o' that," said he. "I reckon
it's a real daisy idea."

Quickly they despoiled the natives of their gorgeous trappings, and Bob
sighed when the miserable bodies were revealed in all their savage
nakedness, and marvelled at the unusual muscular development showing in
their chest and limbs.

"Ay, Bob," said Mackay, guessing his thoughts, "one of these fellows is
worth two of any other tribe, I ken. Somehow, though I have a sair
grudge against them, I feel sort o' sorry to see such bonnie specimens
slaughtered."

"But I reckon they would have danced round our funeral all right," said
Emu Bill, savagely. "Hang it, the nigs in this here country ain't fit to
live, they ain't."

"There are no opossums about here, are there?" asked Jack, suddenly.

"Nary one," answered Emu Bill, with a laugh. "Why, they couldn't live on
sand, an' there ain't no trees around that a muskittie couldn't bend by
sitting on them."

"Then where could these skins come from?" cried the lad.

Bob shook his head dubiously, and Emu Bill seemed to have thought of
the matter for the first time. Mackay alone seemed confident in his
knowledge.

"It's a sure proof, Jack," said he, "that beyond the mountain there must
be a different kind o' country, a country o' forests and rivers, maybe,
and our Eldorado."




CHAPTER XV

The Secret of the Mountain


It was well into the afternoon before their gruesome task was
accomplished, and the sun shone far down in the Western sky when they
returned to the camp. They had carried the deceased warriors out into
the sandy tracts beyond the boiling springs. It cannot be said that they
were unduly sympathetic with the slain, and certainly they were anything
but enamoured of their self-imposed contract, but the alternative would
have been extremely disagreeable.

"I have no doubt their brethren would have come for them to-night," said
Bob, "and saved us a good deal of trouble--if we could only have
depended on them going peaceably away again."

"Ay, if," agreed Mackay, dryly. "But their coming would only mean more
funerals, Bob, and as for that, I believe they've been trying to force
that patent door of theirs before now."

He turned and gazed towards the fissure at the base of the mountain, and
at that moment there distinctly came a sound therefrom as of the jarring
of rocks under pressure. They all kept perfect silence for a minute or
two, and again the sound was repeated, but this time it was succeeded
by the sharp rattle of falling boulders.

"That's the top o' our barricade down, I reckon," whispered the Shadow,
reaching gingerly for his rifle.

"They would see us go out into the plains," hazarded Bob, calmly, "but
the smoke of these very convenient boilers has kept them from noticing
our return."

Mackay nodded. "They've got about a solid ton to shift before the door
will swing," he said musingly. "Now I wonder if we should go an' help
them wi' the job or no'?"

"I reckon we has had enough for one day, Mac," answered Emu Bill,
wearily. "Let the skunks work their own passage."

Another rattle, louder than the first, reached their ears.

"'Pears to me they is in a mighty hurry," grinned the Shadow.

Bob rose to his feet. "I'm going to have a look," he said. "Come on,
Jack;" and they tip-toed over to the origin of the disturbances, leaving
their companions apparently deeply and solely intent on bringing the
billy on the fire to a boil speedily.

Mackay had examined the barricade once or twice earlier in the day, and
noticed no change in its appearance, and was convinced that nothing
short of gelignite cartridges could shift their obstruction from the
inside. Bob held the same opinion, but he was nevertheless curious to
see what sort of efforts were being made. Making a short _détour_, they
silently approached the entrance to the underground passage from the
side farthest from the movable rocky slab. The interstice had been
well-nigh filled with diorite boulders, leaving only the top of the
solid panel showing; but when Bob looked now, he was alarmed to find a
considerable shrinkage in the level of the barricade, and though the
noisy echoes of falling rocks were still plainly heard, it was evident
that nothing was rolling down from the top of the pile. Jack drew a
quick breath of anxiety; Bob was perplexed beyond measure, but he made
no sign, and as he looked, behold! the boulder stack was gradually, yet
surely, sinking--sinking apparently into the earth beneath. Then his eye
noticed some slight change in the position of the rocking wall; it was
thrust up somewhat, and gaped widely. The solution of the mystery was
now made clear: the great slab moved upwards as well as outwards, and
the depletion of the pile was taking place from the bottom; the rock
fragments were rolling inwards to the tunnel!

Hastily he beckoned on his companions, and they came forward at a run,
just as the last stone was disappearing from view. But the natives had
now taken alarm. There came a dull thud as the doorway relapsed into its
accustomed place, and then their rapidly retreating footsteps were heard
as they scurried back into the subterranean channel, and the peculiar
tapping of the night before heralded the direction of their flight.

Mackay took in the position at a glance, and an expression of grave
concern settled on his features.

"Their resources are positively marvellous," he groaned in despair.
"It's a vera fortunate thing, Bob, that you werena influenced by my
stupid over-confidence, and came to investigate. We might have been
bowled over wi' their arrows before we had time to lift a rifle." He
continued bitterly to abuse himself while he inspected the now bare
cavity in the mountain.

"I reckon it's a long sight more fortunate that they came along in the
daytime," commented Emu Bill, "which they likely wouldn't have done, if
they had thought we were about. Seems to me, that good Samaritan job o'
ours in planting them nigs nice and comfortable out in the sand has done
us a service right away."

"You've hit it pretty near, Bill," Bob agreed. "If they had done that
trick in the night, we should probably have been wiped out."

"This is a mighty unpleasant climate for us tender lambs, it is," wailed
the Shadow. "There's nary night but what we may wake up wi' a screech
an' find ourselves dead."

"There's one way we can block it for good," muttered Mackay, grimly,
"but I'm no vera willing to do it, for it will block us too, an' I mean
to get inside that mountain before I'm a couple o' days older." He
looked towards the gelignite case, lying near where it had been placed
for safety, and his companions knew his plan at once. "Yes, we may well
shoot down a bit o' the mountain big enough to bar that tunnel safe as a
house, but that wouldn't suit us afterwards."

"If we roll round a few boulders wider than the door itself, that would
keep things pretty safe for a night," suggested Jack; and in the end,
this was the plan decided upon, and for half an hour they busied
themselves transporting the most unwieldy diorite blocks they could
find, and fixing them securely into the cavity. Then they returned to
partake of their well-earned and belated dinner of tea and damper.

The last added proof of the blacks' ingenuity considerably disturbed the
members of the little party. It had been so hard to believe that
aborigines could possibly have constructed the tunnel through the
mountain, but now they were inclined to imagine their savage neighbours
capable of anything.

"I reckon we has got to go slow, boys," remarked Emu Bill, with a
troubled expression; "them nigs don't seem to be the genuine article.
They knows a long sight too much for my liking, they does."

Mackay, too, was obviously concerned. The mysterious tunnel mystified
him; he could not imagine how it had been wrought, but there was
gradually dawning in him a vastly increased respect for the natives who
lived beyond the mountain. That they were different from all other
tribes he had encountered was only too evident. The question was, in how
great a degree did they excel their brethren of the plains? Judging from
his brief experience of them, Mackay's estimate of their powers was far
higher than he cared to admit.

"Of course," he said, in answer to Emu Bill, "if the country on the
other side is what we expect, the natives will be of a much more
advanced class than any we've met before. You see, it's the power o'
environment, Bill; it may have worked marvels here, for a' we know."

They ate their unpalatable meal without much further remark. Then Bob,
who had been pondering deeply over the events of the last twenty-four
hours, showed the trend of his thoughts by asking quietly if any of the
aboriginal tribes had been known to use bows and arrows.

"I never saw, nor heard tell o' such a thing before," grunted Emu Bill.

"In that case," said Bob, "these natives show that they have originated
that custom here, or have retained it from an earlier period, before
the blacks began to degenerate; and, in either case, it proves them to
be an exceptional lot altogether."

"That's just what's bothering me, Bob," admitted Mackay. "We might well
tackle an ordinary tribe, even though we only numbered five against
fifty, but wi' these beggars here, I'll allow we seem to be embarking on
a job that is, to say the least of it, a bit unhealthy. No, no, don't
think I'm gettin' nervous, Bill, but we must calculate the chances
before we start. Bob counted fifty <DW65>s on the hill this morning, so
we've a fair idea o' what we are goin' to run up against."

"Hang it, boss," complained the Shadow; "you doesn't think a crowd o'
nigs is goin' to hustle us back now, does ye? If we kin join their happy
family in the daytime we'll scatter 'em quick an' lively, but the night
gives me the creeps, it does. I can never see the sights o' my rifle in
the dark."

"If we were once on the other side of the mountain," said Jack, eagerly,
"we could soon shift the blacks; it's the wretched old tunnel that keeps
worrying us here."

"Ay, my lad," said Mackay, dryly; "the tunnel is a vera curious
construction for a crowd o' aborigines to make, an' the more I think
about it, the more puzzled I become. I was going to suggest that Bill
an' me should force the passage in the morning, while the three o' you
waited out by the camels in case o' accident."

"I'm right wi' you there," cried Emu Bill. "I reckon it ain't safe for
these here young 'uns to come along wi' us first----"

A storm of protest greeted his words, and Bob turned to Mackay
reproachfully.

"I know what you mean," he said; "but neither Jack nor I will leave
unless we all leave together, so that if anything happened to you we
would not escape in any case. Isn't it far better to make the most of
our strength instead of dividing it?"

"Well, well, perhaps you are right," returned the big man, hastily, as
if annoyed at his own fears; "but we'd better wait until morning before
we start the circus. Like the Shadow, I prefer to meet the natives in
daylight, and anyhow, we're a' needing a sleep to-night, so we'd be
better to turn in early and get up by sunrise. It should take us a good
half-hour in the morning blowing out that tunnel door for a start."

Certainly nothing further could be done on that day, for the darkness
was already closing in, and each one of the party was weary and tired
from lack of sleep. So shortly afterwards they lay down in their
blankets, though not before a searching examination had been made of the
new barricade erected at the entrance to the subterranean passage, and,
in spite of the known dangers surrounding them, they slept soundly, each
taking a two hours' watch in turn. It was well after midnight when Bob
awoke for the first time, and at once his ears caught the strange
tapping in the mountain which had first heralded the approach of the
natives on the night before. He aroused himself immediately, and saw
Mackay, who was on guard, listening to the ghostly echoes intently.
Slowly they seemed to pass along the base of the hill, then all was
quiet. Bob got up and joined Mackay, and together they walked softly
towards the fissure, and there in the dull light they could vaguely see
the great boulders move as if under pressure from beneath, but though
they watched for fully ten minutes in silence, the barricade remained
intact. Jack's scheme had worked admirably. Then Mackay turned on his
heel with a loud laugh.

"It's just as well to let them ken we're here, Bob," he explained; and
the sound of scurrying footsteps which answered him from the concealed
passage showed that the natives had thought fit to retire once more.
Then again the peculiar tapping issued out dully from the great rock,
continuing for nearly a minute before it faded into the stillness of the
night.

"Well, what do you make of it, Bob?" asked Mackay.

Bob did not hesitate a moment. "The passage must lead for some distance
along the face of the mountain," said he. "But why these strange sounds
are heard every time the blacks come along, I cannot say."

"Man, Bob," laughed Mackay, "that's vera easily explained. The tunnel
must be dark, of course, and the warriors have to guide themselves along
the passage by feeling the walls wi' their arrows or clubs as they go.
It just struck me that that was the reason o' the uncanny noises when I
heard them come along there to-night. Simple enough, isn't it, Bob?"

"I'm glad there is nothing approaching the supernatural about it,
anyhow," replied Bob, soberly. "The echoes seemed to ring in my ears
like a knell of doom."

He shuddered as he got back into his blanket. The others were awake by
this time; but when they learned that an ineffective attempt had been
made to destroy the barricade, they chuckled in rare good-humour, and
went off to sleep again. The remainder of the night passed without
alarm, and the morning broke, calm and serene, over the little camp,
which awoke to life with renewed vigour after its peaceful slumber.
Breakfast was soon over; then a hurried council of war was held to
reason out the best plan of action. Emu Bill was in favour of inserting
a heavy charge of gelignite in the rocking panel which had defied their
gentler efforts on the preceding day; and Jack and the Shadow supported
this proposal vociferously. Mackay, however, though he had at first
advocated this drastic action, now seemed reluctant to carry it through;
and Bob, too, though he did not say much, was evidently pondering over
some other and better scheme, which he at last broached hesitatingly.

"If the passage runs parallel with the face of the mountain for twenty
or thirty yards," he said, "it strikes me that if we made a fresh
entrance to it as far away from the old one as possible, we could
deceive the natives most completely, and perhaps provide a means of
escape in an emergency."

"I don't quite catch on," grumbled Emu Bill. "I'm hanged if I see what
difference it should make; an' we doesn't know how far we'd have to dig
into the blasted rock afore we hit the tunnel--if it's where you say."

Mackay took up a pick, and, proceeding along the base of the mountain
away from the fissure, struck at the rocky wall repeatedly, with the
result that a deep, hollow rumbling issued forth at each stroke, until a
point had been reached some thirty yards distant from the tunnel
entrance, when only the solid diorite formation gave back the sound.

"I calculate we'd have less than five feet to drive, Bill," said he.
"About a couple o' long shots in from the top would do it. You can
trace the passage as plainly as if you were looking at it. I don't know
what the idea was in making it like a boomerang; but we'll soon find
out. Now, Bob, you're better at explaining than me. Try an' convince
Bill o' the advantages we may derive from making a new hole into the
mountain."

"I reckon I can see it all right," cried the Shadow. "Oh, it are a
daisy----"

"Shut up, Shad," growled Emu Bill. "Now, Bob, for any sake, tell me your
plan. Of course I'm with you, whether I understand or not; but, blow me
if I can see the force o' doing extra work in the <DW65>s' mountain fur
nothin'."

Then Bob endeavoured to elucidate the ideas which had been taking shape
in his brain all through the night, since Mackay and he had come to a
conclusion as to the origin of the warning sounds and the proximity of
the passage for some distance to the outer air.

"If we don't tamper with the old door, boys," said he, earnestly, "we
can block up the hole we make by some bagging, and so will always have a
chance of escape if the natives are too many for us. They will guard
their own entrance only, for they probably will never see ours; and it's
just as well to take precautions. The darkness of the tunnel will help
our plan; and if we succeed without having to trouble about getting
back, so much the better----"

"And there are a few more arguments in favour o' the scheme, Bob," added
Mackay; "but we may see the excellence o' them later."

"But they'll hear us firing the charges, won't they?" said Jack.

"They heard us doing the same thing yesterday," answered Mackay; "an'
they saw us too, so it's no vera likely they'll trouble us to-day. But
if we put the drill-holes in deep enough, and give the powder plenty
work to do, there shouldna be much noise--in fact, I doubt if they'll
hear it at a'."

No time was lost in making the experiment, and the long steel drills
were quickly grinding their way through the hard outer casing of the
rock as nearly as could be judged opposite the place where the passage
took an abrupt turn inwards. And now the mining knowledge of Mackay and
Emu Bill made their work comparatively easy; they knew exactly the
correct angles at which to drive the drills so as to obtain the best
results when they loaded the holes so made with the deadly explosive.
Steadily they laboured at their task, Bob, Jack, and the Shadow
assisting at intervals, but more often engaged farther out in the open
making a goodly appearance for the benefit of the natives, should they
chance to be watching, and thus drawing attention away from the great
work in hand. For a full hour Mackay slogged at the steel with his
mighty hammer, then gradually the borings extracted from the deepening
hole grew lighter and redder in colour, and the drill sank inwards
rapidly.

"That's a new formation we've struck, Bill," said he, pausing to examine
the edge of his tool. Then an exclamation broke from his lips. "We're
chippin' through a gold lode!" he cried; "and it's so rich that the
drill clogs in the metal."

"I reckon there's nary nig'll shift us from here now," said Emu Bill,
examining for himself the gold grains exposed. "I means to see the other
side o' this here mountain, or bust. I reckon there must be oceans o'
gold an' di'monds over there."

At this stage Jack called out warningly, "I see old Nebuchadnezzar on
the top of the mountain again."

"It's the same old nig that we didn't shoot," exclaimed the Shadow;
"an', blow me! if he ain't goin' to throw stones at us."

The tall figure on the summit had certainly attempted to throw something
down; but it caught on a jutting rock overhead, and bounded thence into
the rising vapours of the hot springs. Once more he appeared to cast
some projectile into the air; but if he did, it did not reach the ground
in the vicinity of the anxious party beneath. Then again a visible
missile came hurtling down; but it fell wide, much to the Shadow's
satisfaction.

"The old fool can't throw stones for nuts!" he cried delightedly.

"I don't think he'll hurt us much," said Mackay, with a laugh. "Let him
play away, Shadow, if it amuses him; it doesn't do us any damage."

And the individual aloft continued his strange pranks for some time,
though in no one instance did the stones he threw alight even moderately
near; then he vanished as suddenly as he had come.

"I think we're about ready for firing, Bill," said Mackay, shortly
afterwards. "We'd better hurry up, too, seeing that there does not seem
to be any one about to watch in the mean time."

The drill had been driven over eight feet down, at an angle of somewhat
less than forty-five degrees, and Bob, making a rough calculation,
considered that its extremity was at least four feet away from the
surface of the rock in a straight line.

"We'll give it twenty-five cartridges, I think," mused Mackay, "an' the
shock o' discharge should burst at least another foot inwards."

"I reckon something's bound to shift," murmured Emu Bill, as he deftly
prepared the charges, and inserted the long fuse.

Bob watched the last operation with quiet interest, but not so Jack and
the Shadow. They suddenly pranced off towards the cooking utensils by
the fire, and began to drag them back out of range.

"Tea and damper is bad enough," groaned the Shadow, tenderly secreting
the only two billy cans the expedition possessed; "but damper without
tea would be howlin' starvation, it would."

"You doesn't need to worry, Shad," grinned Emu Bill. "There won't be
much o' a scatter here."

And he calmly applied a lighted match to the end of the fuse, and stood
for almost a minute, listening to its sputtering as the fire crept
slowly down towards the gelignite, before he turned away. Another
minute, two minutes, three minutes passed.

"I'm afraid we've had a misfire, Bill," said Mackay.

But just as he spoke the base of the mountain seemed to quiver and burst
forward, then came a dull report, and when the smoke cleared away, a
giant crack showed in the rock, but otherwise no evidences were left to
indicate that a powerful explosive had been at work.

"That's hard lines," said Emu Bill, stepping forward. "It might have
shifted that chunk o' iron out o' the road, anyway. Now we'll need to
begin all over again."

"I'm no so sure o' that," answered Mackay, waving his hat in the rent
created in order to dispel the clinging white fumes, which obscured all
vision.

Then it was made apparent that it was no mere crack in the formation
they gazed upon. The force of explosion has not only cleft the rock, but
had thrust it almost a yard forward in one unbroken mass, and at the
bottom of the chasm thus made a vague blackness appeared, the blackness
of a void. Mackay bent down his head eagerly, but hastily withdrew it
again; a rush of heavy damp air, stifling and odorous, had come with a
gust in his face.

"I reckon them powder fumes'll make you feel pretty bad," sympathized
Emu Bill. "Just give the smoke time to clear, Mac, an' then we'll put in
another shot."

"There's no need to do any more work here, Bill," answered Mackay,
recovering himself. "We've broken right into the tunnel first pop! There
it is, too, as natural-looking an entrance as you could wish to see, wi'
a door--if we could move it--that weighs five tons if it weighs a
pound."

Eagerly they all clustered round to look; and now that the atmosphere
had grown less clouded, the dark shadows of the cavern below were
plainly discernible. Bob gave a sigh of relief. At last the secret of
the mountain was to be revealed.

"Well, I reckon I'd better get down an' prospect round a bit," said Emu
Bill, hitching up his nether garments preparatory to scrambling down
into the uncertain depths.

"Let me go first," urged the Shadow. "I'm the lightest, and it wouldn't
hurt me much if I did go down a bit further than I expected when I let
go the edge."

"We'll lower a rope wi' a stone on the end o' it before any one goes
down," said Mackay, firmly. "We've got to engineer this funeral vera
cautiously, my lad, an' mustna go bouncing ourselves into difficulties,
as if there was a good fairy waiting by us every time to pull us out o'
them."

A rope was speedily forthcoming, and fastening a fragment of rock to the
end of it, Mackay carefully allowed it to descend. It came to a
standstill in good time, however, showing that the bottom of the passage
was barely three feet below the point where the rent had entered its
wall. Mackay quickly proceeded to adjust the rope so that its extremity
dangled just on the edge of the yawning gap, then he made it fast on the
outside by coiling it several times round the top of the sundered rock.

"A man could pull himself out in a hurry by getting something to hold on
to," he remarked, "an' it's just as well to be prepared."

This operation completed, Emu Bill wriggled himself down through the
narrow opening, and holding on to the guiding-rope, quickly disappeared
from view, while his companions on the surface waited expectantly for
his report on his surroundings.

"Well, an' what do you make of it, Bill?" demanded Mackay, when the
tension on the cable had slackened.

"I can't see a single thing," came the response. "It's dark as--as
Hades, an'--howlin' blazes! but it does smell."

Without a word Mackay slid down beside his complaining comrade; the
Shadow followed, then Jack, and lastly Bob squirmed down beside them.
All was dark and oppressively gloomy in the strange passage, and the
thin streak of light from the opening they themselves had made, only
served to intensify the utter blackness which prevailed. They stood for
a full minute without speaking, their ears alert for the slightest sound
which might warn them of danger; but all was silent as a tomb.

"Now, boys," whispered Mackay, "we'll have a look at the inside o' that
other doorway before we go any further." He led the way, staggering and
stumbling, and Bob, following at his heels, became conscious that the
floor of the tunnel was extremely muddy and wet. After a few steps
Mackay paused. "I've got a bit o' candle in my pocket," he said; "I may
as well strike a light."

The match spluttered feebly in his hand for a moment, and then went out,
but on a second attempt he succeeded in getting the candle alight, and
though it burned with a dismal blue flame, it illuminated the rocky
cavern sufficiently for the adventurers to observe its structure.

They stood in a longitudinal chamber about eight feet high, and barely
four in width. The roof fairly scintillated with beaded moisture, and
the dank, cold walls were adrip with ooze. The bottom of the chamber, as
they had already discovered, was a soft and clinging clayey formation.
Mackay's trained eye immediately grasped the significance of the scene.

"This is a most extraordinary thing to find in the heart o' Australia,"
he said. "It's a tunnel driven through an enormous gold lode, an' it's
vera evident that the men who made it knew almost nothing about mining,
for the ore hasn't been stripped either to the hanging wall or foot
wall. It's just as if a blind gap had been dug into the country where it
was softest."

"I see a nugget shining in the roof," whispered Jack, pointing to a
yellow splatch showing overhead.

"Ay, my lad, an' I can see several more," said Mackay, surveying the
exposed stratum in bewilderment. "It is a wonderful mine, without a
doubt, but what on earth the natives do with it is more than I can
imagine."

He moved onwards once more, and then he halted suddenly, and held the
candle aloft. The passage had come to an end; before him stood the huge
stone panel which had first barred their entrance; at his feet gaped a
deep, pit-like cavity.

"Come close up here, Bob," he said quietly. "Come an' have a look at
this arrangement o' things; primitive but effective, eh?"

Bob gazed at the sight before him in absolute wonderment. The great
stone which marked the end of the chamber stood upright on an egg-shaped
base; it appeared to be formed like a rude and bluff wedge, the wider
extremity protruding outwards, where, as had been seen, it flanged
neatly on to the main rock from which it had sprung. But it was not its
shape that surprised Bob: a massive bar of some gleaming metal was
welded into it fully halfway up its height, and from this U-shaped bar a
rope of extraordinary girth stretched taut into the depths of the pit,
where it could be seen attached to a ponderous mass of diorite rock,
which hung from it like the weight of a giant clock.

"It must take more than one man to open that door," murmured Jack.

"They probably always come in force when they use this passage," mused
Bob; "and see, I suppose that arrangement is for keeping the stone bent
over when they are out?"

He pointed to a short and stout log lying near, which had apparently
been used for preventing a quick rush back of the weighted panel when
the warriors had gone out on the night of the conflict. Mackay stepped
gingerly across the intervening shaft, and shone his light into its
unsavoury depths as he did so.

"I see now where our boulder barricade dropped to," he said; "but I can
see also that they can never move our present obstruction in the same
way, the big blocks outside will stick them, no matter how they try."

Emu Bill now tried to find his speech. "How in thunder is we to account
for the rock prizing open wi' us at first?" said he. "I can't understand
this here concern yet, I can't."

Bob pointed downwards to where the wall of the pit was deeply scarred
and dented.

"Likely enough the weight caught in the side," he said, "and so eased
off the tension considerably."

Mackay, who had been keenly scrutinizing the rope and the stout bar in
the stone to which it was connected, now lifted his head.

"The rope is made o' a grass which doesn't grow on our side o' the
mountain, boys," he said; "but the bar is fashioned out o' a metal which
is known to all of us, though we've never managed to possess it in
sufficient quantities to throw away on a job like this, where simple
iron would be far stronger and better in every way."

"Why!" exclaimed Emu Bill. "You doesn't mean to say that they've stuck a
chunk o' gold in that there stone, does ye?"

"I just do," answered Mackay, wearily. "Now, I think we'd better get out
and think over things for a bit. Two or three shocks o' that sort would
just about destroy my nervous system altogether."

"But you ain't goin' to leave that bonanza in the rock, surely?" cried
the Shadow. "Let me get one tug at it, boss, I'll pretty soon yank it
out, I'll----"

But here his companions gently but firmly led him away.

"There's bound to be lots more of it lying around," said Jack,
soothingly, as they retraced their steps.

When they reached the exit the light of the candle showed them that the
tunnel here swung off to the left at a right angle, and at this point
the passage was considerably wider than they had at first judged,
probably owing to the difficulty the natives had experienced in making
such a sharp turn. But the eye could distinguish nothing beyond the
radius of the feeble illumination; all was oppressively murky and damp
and repellent.

"That's our road, boys," said Mackay, pointing with his candle into the
gloomy cavern which led into the heart of the mountain. "But before we
start on our journey we'll get out an' make our final arrangements, an'
change our wardrobe to suit the situation."

In a few minutes they were all on the surface once more, eagerly talking
over their prospects, for, strangely enough, the dangerous aspect of
their projected journey through the mountain was for the moment lost on
them, so completely had the glamour of the golden tunnel exercised its
subtle influence. Mackay, however, quickly regained his control.

"We must remember, boys," he cautioned, "that we have no ordinary
natives to contend with, an' before we leave this camp it will be
necessary to attend to some details which may be helpful to us
afterwards."

"What would you suggest?" asked Bob.

"In the first instance," Mackay replied, "we should hide the camel-packs
containing our provisions. We can easily do that out among the sand on
the other side o' the springs. It won't take us half an hour
altogether."

"But what about the camels?" interjected Jack.

"They are a good distance away, my lad, an' they're no' hobbled. They'll
just have to take their chance; but I don't think there's much risk in
that direction, after all, for Misery can't stand the sight o' a <DW65>,
an' if he bolted, the rest would follow, an' we could track them up
afterwards just as I had to do before in this same district."

It was yet early in the day, and though Emu Bill was loath to delay
their tour of discovery even for five minutes, he was brought to see the
wisdom of Mackay's advice. Within half an hour the camp had assumed a
bare and desolate appearance, only the heavier mining implements being
left at the base of the mountain. Then they gathered round the cleft in
the rock, and hurriedly prepared for their work of subterranean
exploration. It had been agreed that the party should don the robes of
the deceased warriors in order to lessen the chances of detection should
any natives be encountered while traversing the mysterious passage, but
now they saw that whereas there were five persons to transform into
savages, there were but four of the long furry coverings, although the
feathered decorations for completing their sartorial equipment were more
numerous than necessary.

"I believe I saw one o' them 'possum robes in the pit, aside the hanging
rock," said Emu Bill, reflectively. "I'll go an' get it in a jiff."

He disappeared into the recess immediately, and Bob heard him feeling
his way back towards the old entrance, muttering and grumbling against
the awkward nature of the dismal, muddy track at each floundering step.
Then for a brief space all was still.

"A bit o' charcoal rubbed over the face an' neck will make us more
<DW65>-like, I'm thinkin'," laughed Mackay, as he surveyed himself with
rueful gaze.

It was no sooner said than done. Jack rushed over to the smouldering
fire, and came back with a handful of charred embers, and with these
they smeared their faces and hands plentifully.

"An' I reckon we won't want our boots," grunted the Shadow, discarding
his almost soleless shoes, and rolling up the legs of his much-frayed
nether garments.

"That's right, Shadow," said Mackay; "you make a grand <DW65>, an' I
only hope I don't mistake you in the dark for a real warrior, an'
slaughter you in error."

Bob and Jack, when they had finished their toilet, looked their part to
the life; but when Mackay's towering bulk was arrayed and besplatched to
his satisfaction, he seemed the most fearsome object imaginable, a
formidable-looking savage indeed.

"Now I wonder what's keeping Bill?" broke out Jack, impatiently. "This
rock here is burning my feet terribly."

"He'll be tryin' to wrench off that bit o' gold from the big stone,"
remarked the Shadow, with assurance. "I reckon I'll go down an' help
him."

"You'll do nothing o' the kind," said Mackay, firmly, laying a
restraining hand on the youth's shoulder. "We've got something else to
do in the meantime, my lad. Bill will be gropin' in the dark for that
<DW65> dress, an' he'll be here in a minute."

The Shadow's feeble smile at being intercepted in his desire to possess
the treasure he so much coveted looked so malevolent on his besmeared
features, that Jack could not forbear a hearty laugh. Then Bob gave a
gasp of dismay.

"I can hear natives coming through the passage!" he said. "What are we
to do about Bill?"

The vague echoes of shuffling movements were now quite plainly heard,
and still there was no sign from Emu Bill; probably he had not yet
become aware of the ominous sounds, or perhaps he was, as the Shadow had
suggested, too much engrossed with a congenial task to grasp their true
significance. With a forceful expression on his lips Mackay insinuated
his muscular form into the gap, and just at that instant a band of
savages swept by him so close that they almost touched him. Then only it
seemed that Emu Bill became aroused to his danger. A hoarse snarl of
rage rang along the passage, and the sounds of a silent scuffle came to
Mackay's ears as he stood motionless by the exit. With a stifled groan
he pulled himself up, just as the warriors had evidently accomplished
their work.

"Have they killed him too?" whispered Jack, nervously.

Mackay did not trust himself to reply. He motioned Bob to hand him his
rifle, and he was sliding back into the passage with a vengeful rage in
his heart when a stentorian call from Emu Bill made him pause.

"I'm not dead, boys," he cried, "but they've got me trussed up like a
prize fowl, an' I don't know what they're goin' to do wi' me. Block the
light, or they'll see where I came in, an' don't try to save me now, for
there's over a score o' the skunks. It'll be all right, boys, all right.
Ye are a pack of miserable, sneakin', howlin' gorillas----"

The last phrase, which was continued at some length, was obviously
destined for his captors as they bore him along. It was evident that
Bill had suffered no serious hurt at their hands, and his warning showed
that, even under such exceptionally trying circumstances, he was not
unmindful of the welfare of his comrades, who would assuredly have been
overcome had they descended to his assistance. The bushman's chivalric
self-abnegation however would not have deterred Mackay from taking long
odds at a work of rescue, but in the gloom of the cavern such action
would have been futile, or perhaps worse, because any shots fired at
random might just as easily kill Emu Bill as any one else, and the
resultant chaos could only end in one way. So Bill was led away by the
savage band, who gave vent to their satisfaction by sending forth
shrill, unmusical shouts, which rang through the vaulted chamber like
the cries of demons in torment. They passed by the gap in the wall which
Mackay's bulk covered without a moment's pause, and marched slowly on
into the heart of the mountain.

When at last all discordant sounds had died away, Mackay aroused himself
with alacrity; but when his gaze fell upon the despondent countenances
of his companions, he could not forbear a smile; their dusky aspect and
warrior-like trappings agreed ill with their sorrowful visages.

"Now, my young savages," he cried, "try an' look less miserable. We've
got to get through the mountain somehow now, for I won't leave Bill over
there on his own. See that you've got plenty of cartridges, my lads, an'
let us go."

"Poor old Bill!" murmured the Shadow, sadly. "It was that darned chunk
o' gold that did it, I reckon."

"Now that they've found some one in the tunnel," said Bob, wearily,
"they'll most likely come back to set a guard over the door; and when
they find it won't open, they'll look around until they get this
entrance, so that we'll be blocked completely from getting back."

Mackay was already halfway into the passage, but he climbed out again
quickly on hearing Bob's words.

"You're quite right, Bob," said he, "an' there's only one thing to do
before we start on Bill's trail. I don't like the idea o' it, but I
believe it's the best plan."

They all hurried over to the barricaded entrance of the fissure, and
straightway began to pull aside the great rocks they had placed there so
carefully the night before. Already Mackay's forethought in hiding the
stores of the expedition was about to bear good fruit. If the blacks
came out now, as they undoubtedly would, they would find nothing to
destroy of any importance, and it was extremely unlikely that the
natural-looking crack in the rock further along the hill would receive
their attention; and, even if it did, the adventurous four would run no
more risk than if they had left the barricaded crevice intact. Mackay
calculated much on the blind, unreasoning ardour of the blacks.

"They won't come out in the daytime if they think we're about," said he,
grimly, "and in the night they can see nothing, anyhow, though I hope we
haven't to dodge about in that passage for such a length o' time."

Jack now bethought himself of a brilliant scheme whereby the purposes of
the free exit would be served without danger of the blacks profiting
much thereby. He found poor Never Never Dave's empty rifle lying near,
and this he carefully propped up by the aid of several boulders with the
long barrel directed fairly at the great stone door.

"They'll think there's a man behind the gun," said he, chuckling in
boyish glee, "and whenever they open the concern they'll pop back again
mighty quick."

"It's a vera excellent idea, Jack," approved Mackay. "Now, surely, we
can go our way in peace."

They returned to the rent in the mountain which the explosive had made,
and without further hesitation stepped down into the depths below, and
Mackay, who was the last to descend, dragged with him a number of empty
flour bags with which he effectually screened the little light which
filtered between the sundered rocks. All was still in the passage as
they felt their way cautiously forward, hugging the walls for guidance,
their bare feet plashing in the oozy mire. Mackay and Bob led the way,
each pressing against the opposite sides of the passage for support.
Jack and the Shadow followed, more secure of their steps, knowing that
the way was proved before them. On, on, they struggled; Bob would have
dearly liked to light a match, but that would have been extremely
foolhardy at such a critical juncture of their pilgrimage, as it would
betray their presence to any aboriginal who might happen to be lurking
near.

Already they seemed to have been an age in the stifling cavern, though
but a few minutes had elapsed since their entry. The tunnel, as nearly
as Bob could judge, had continued on a straight course, but it was hard
to estimate with certainty how great a distance had been traversed.

Suddenly Mackay stopped and clutched Bob's arm in a vice-like grip.

"There's a hole o' some sort at our feet," he whispered, as the lad
stumbled backwards.

Bob put forward one foot gingerly, but it met with no resistance;
assuredly a dangerous void intervened in their path. In vain they sought
across the full width of the passage for a foothold; not an inch of
solid ground remained, and the clayey particles dislodged by their
essaying footsteps fell down into an unknown depth, and sundry gurgles
and splashes echoed back as they reached the bottom.

"There's no scarcity o' water there," remarked Mackay; then he felt over
as far as he could reach with his rifle, and at the utmost limit of his
stretch something hard interposed. "It's just like a shaft cutting down
through the lode," he murmured; "but how the beggars get across it beats
me to understand."

"We could take it at a jump, I think," suggested Jack.

"I'm afraid we'd slip into the water if we tried, my lad. It's no' easy
gettin' a firm footing in this clay for a start. No, I think I'll throw
the Shadow across first an' he can steady us from the other side."

"Say, boss," said that individual, plaintively, "I ain't no flying
machine or human bullet. I reckon my tender bones won't get damaged so
much if I jump----"

But while they stood thus deliberating as how best to surmount the
difficulty, the dreaded sound of approaching natives fell dully on their
ears. The Shadow uttered a stifled groan and his rifle-lock clicked
under his impetuous fingers. Jack gave a faint whistle of dismay, and
Bob calmly drew and cocked his revolver. Mackay stood unmoved, straining
his eyes into the gloom; then he gently pressed Bob back close to the
wall.

"Hug the side," he whispered; and each one crushed hard against the
slimy rock, and waited.

Pat! pat! pat! came the unwelcome echoes, accompanied by an occasional
splash, as the oncoming band floundered in the mire, and the direction
from which the disturbance came was away decidedly to the left, although
it was speedily altering to a point straight ahead. Bob noted this fact
carefully, despite his alarm.

Nearer and nearer the unseen band advanced until but a few yards
separated them from the yawning pit. Bob held his breath. Would they
walk blindly into it? Had they miscalculated its position? He felt
Mackay's hand press lightly on his shoulder as if to give him
confidence, and he marvelled at its steadiness, and braced himself for
the encounter he felt sure was about to begin. He could hear Jack's
heart throbbing under the severe tension of the moment, and the Shadow's
quick breaths indicated how trying was the strain even for that
iron-nerved youth. But now came the crucial moment; the foremost savage
shrieked out a guttural word of warning, as it seemed, and stopped,
apparently on the edge of the chasm. A second later and his feet
alighted with a sharp, sliding sound close opposite Bob, and with a
recovering effort he passed on. He was followed immediately by another
and still another warrior, whose arrows rustled in their hands as they
cleared the gulf. If one of them had slipped there could have been
little hope of escape for the intrepid quartet, for assuredly the
slightest stumble would have sent him right into their arms. But no
disaster of the kind occurred, each wildly-leaping figure arrived safely
on the slippery floorway beside them and lunged forward with the
momentum of his flight, and in this way fifteen warriors passed and
proceeded on their way; then all was quiet again.

Mackay broke the silence. "That was a close shave, my lads," said he,
coolly. "Now, I wonder if any of you noticed how they got across so
sprightly?"

"I reckon they jumped," grunted the Shadow, "an' I is mighty pleased
they jumped so well."

"It would be a good jump," whispered Bob; "but they cleared it too
easily without a run."

"I think I'll risk lighting a match," said Mackay. "There's a bend in
the tunnel straight forward a bit, so nothing can be seen past that, an'
the <DW65>s that have passed will probably be dodgin' the barrel o'
Never Never's rifle by this time."

A howl of terror from that extremity of the tunnel almost verified his
surmise. Mackay calmly struck a match, held it aloft for an instant, and
blew it out hurriedly, but in that fleeting moment Bob caught sight of a
stout rope suspended from a beam directly over the pit, and he also
observed that at this point the roof of the tunnel was considerably
farther above them than it had been at the start of their journey.
Evidently, greater work of excavation had been done at this part of the
golden lode. Mackay groped forward and seized the rope, gave it a tug to
test its strength, then swung himself lightly across the obstacle which
had delayed them so long. Bob went next, then Jack and Shadow trusted
their weight to the flying trapeze.

"They might just as well have put a log or two across that shaft,"
murmured Mackay.

"Yes, I reckon it would be a long sight handier for visitors," agreed
the Shadow; and they plodded on once more. Slowly, slowly, they
advanced, and now Bob became conscious of a growing change in the
atmosphere; it was surely becoming less and less stifling, and the
overpowering odours which had been with them so long were gradually
dispelling. Round to the left bore Mackay, and Bob followed, wondering
vaguely if the light of the outside world would soon burst upon them,
but no sign of lessening gloom cheered them on their altered course.
Another few minutes passed, then Mackay stopped with an exclamation of
surprise, the solid wall had reared up before him; they had been
following a blind drive!

"I'm certain I heard them coming round this way," he said, feeling with
his hand across the barring rock as if in search of some clue to the
mystery.

"We may have taken a wrong turning," suggested Bob, much perplexed. Then
he missed Jack beside him, and the Shadow too had disappeared. "They're
both gone," he muttered anxiously.

"That shows there must be a branch off somewhere," said Mackay,
cheerily. "They must have been hugging the right wall while we clutched
on to the left. We'll hang in to the right going back, Bob, an' we'll
get back on to the main passage."

And back they went, striving vainly to quell the rising fear in their
hearts, for both were more alarmed than they cared to admit over the
absence of their comrades. At last they reached the awkward turn, and
almost, at the same moment, floundering footsteps were heard approaching
from a new direction, almost continuous with the line along which they
had just returned. Not a word was spoken, and the two stood motionless
at the junction of the ways waiting for some sign which would indicate
to them whether their near neighbours were friends or foes. And even as
they stopped, the sounds which had attracted their attention ceased
abruptly, and for a short space all was still. But it was only for a
short space; away back in the distance the harsh cries of the returning
warriors thundered along the passage. Apparently they had not ventured
out beyond the mountain, and that knowledge was satisfactory enough, but
what of the new danger which threatened by their retreat? There was no
deep chasm to distract the savages' notice at this point. On they came,
their unmusical voices raised in a droning chant which might equally
well have expressed joy or regret so far as Bob could make out. Then it
suddenly struck him that they would imagine the white invaders of their
domain to be still outside, despite their capture of Emu Bill in the
well-guarded precincts, and were duly rejoicing in consequence. Over the
watery pit they swung, nearer and nearer they drew. Then out of the deep
gloom opposite clicked the hammer of a rifle, sure evidence that it was
Jack and the Shadow who waited near. But it was too late now to speak,
and the way of safety was unknown. Mackay and Bob pressed backwards
whence they had last come, and the foremost savage almost brushed up
against them as he felt for the wall. Bob's hand was on the trigger of
his revolver ready to fire, but the warrior with a grunt passed over the
entrance to their retreat, and stumbled onwards into the unexplored
darkness ahead. And in this way the invisible band trooped by, nor did
they once pause to investigate the openings on their left or right.

When they had passed out of hearing, a cautious voice whispered hoarsely
from the darkness--

"Is ye there, boss? Shout out quick, for I is goin' to shoot."

"Keep your finger off that trigger, you nervous young rascal," responded
Mackay, sternly; and at the words the lost pair issued forth from their
hiding, and rejoined their companions.

"It was all owing to our following the right hand wall," Jack hastened
to explain. "We didn't know you weren't with us until we came to the
end."

"Another blind drive," muttered Mackay. "This is getting very confusing.
It's just as well the <DW65>s came back again to show us the way."

"And it was just as well they came back while we were off the main
track," said Bob; "otherwise we might have had trouble."

Then they moved on along the middle track which they had been fortunate
not to find at first, and for the space of several minutes not a word
was spoken. There was no doubt about the hazardous nature of the mission
on which they were employed; and Bob smiled grimly to himself as he
reckoned up the chances against them, yet, strangely enough, each
member of the expedition seemed in no wise to consider his own safety,
and was fully determined to meet the best or worst that Fate had in
store. A period had come in their lives when the call of the Unknown was
irresistible; and had this for a moment failed them, the firm desire to
rescue Emu Bill from the clutches of the savages would have sent them
steadily onwards, recklessly ignoring the cost, for the wanderer's creed
is simple and sincere--he may never forsake a comrade in deadly peril.

Their progress was painfully slow, for they knew not what obstacles
might lie in their path, and probably it had been a miscalculation of
their own pace that had led Mackay into error, when he turned into the
drive along which he fancied he had heard the blacks approaching, for
now the tunnel was distinctly curving to the left, and the occasional
rush of fresh air which swept into their faces told them quite plainly
that they were on the highway to the outside world. Slowly, too, the
darkness began to merge into a gloom less and less profound, until the
floor and sides of the cavern they traversed became dimly discernible.

"We won't be long now, my lads," encouraged Mackay.

"I is gettin' mighty nervous," murmured the Shadow, cheerfully. "I
reckon I'll go back home. This ain't no place for a youth o' tender
years, it ain't."

Bob laughed quietly at his companion's happy pessimism, and was about to
make a reply when a faint buzzing sound in the unseen distance ahead
drew his attention. Mackay, too, had heard it, and he stopped for an
instant to listen more intently.

"What is it?" asked Jack, trying vainly to make out the cause of the
vague noises.

"It's natives--at a distance, Jack, my lad," said Mackay. "They're
outside the tunnel; so we'll be all right if there's no' too many o'
them. I'm just hoping we've seen the full strength o' the tribe
already."

They resumed their march; and now they had less difficulty in making
progress owing to the continued increase of light, and as they proceeded
the confused babel of voices became more and more distinct. The tunnel
was by this time veering back towards its original course. Then suddenly
a bright light flashed upon them as through a giant lens. The exit of
the tunnel was in sight at last! Once more Mackay stopped, and was on
the point of making some cautionary remark; but even while he turned the
bright circle ahead was darkened, and several natives entered. A word at
that moment might have proved disastrous, and Bob gripped Mackay's arm
just in time; scarcely twenty yards separated them from their enemies.
The big man hesitated only for a moment, then quickly concealed his
rifle under his long cloak and walked slowly forward, his companions
copying his example without a murmur.

The oncoming warriors were now close beside them; but in the semi-light
of the cavern their dusky faces could not be distinguished. By this time
they had apparently become aware of the presence of the dauntless four,
for they stepped aside to let them pass, and addressed Mackay in a
series of unintelligible ejaculations--presumably of inquiry--to which
that gentleman answered by a non-committal grunt, and strode on his way.
And for the third time within an hour the natives brushed by the little
group, and left them unmolested; but on this occasion it was the
efficacy of their disguise which saved them--a fact which made the
Shadow effervesce with delight. However, it was yet too early to
rejoice, and Bob and Jack restrained their spirits with an effort. As
for Mackay, he made no sign that anything unusual had happened, and
walked on calmly as before, but a repressed cry of wonder burst from his
lips when he reached the end of the tunnel and gazed beyond on the land
which they had so eagerly sought, and his companions echoed his cry when
they, too, looked on the scene which lay before them. And little wonder,
for their eyes were drinking in a vision of rare beauty--it was as if a
glimpse of a tropical paradise had been vouchsafed them. In the near
distance the waters of a crystal lake glistened in the sunshine, and
lapped a coral-white beach, while, fringing its outer edge, and
extending back and upwards, a luxurious forest in miniature lay spread.
The sight was wonderfully cool and exhilarating to the beholders so long
accustomed to the arid desert. Here certainly was no lack of water, no
absence of shade.

But in their first hasty glance at the entrancing picture none of the
watchers had noticed the many bower-like structures which lined the edge
of the abundant foliage; and now Jack drew attention to this feature of
the landscape with some concern.

"There must be quite a population in the valley," said he.

Mackay nodded gravely. "My calculations have been all out," he remarked
in a subdued voice. Then his rage rose again. "But I'll no' go back," he
added fiercely, "until I have avenged my old comrades. I couldna do it,
my lads. But you----"

"Will stay with you," interrupted Bob, quietly.

"I reckon something's goin' to happen pretty sudden," grumbled the
Shadow, craning his neck out of the tunnel, and looking all around
anxiously.

The voices which they had heard while in the far back recesses of the
passage reached their ears close beside them, and towards the right. In
their eagerness they had overlooked the near vicinity while absorbed in
contemplation of the tiny lake and forest beyond; but now the Shadow's
gaze rested upon a crouching circle of warriors less than forty yards
from him, and it seemed as if each gaudily-bedecked native was eyeing
the figures at the mouth of the underground passage with the keenest
interest.

"Look, boss," said the Shadow, "they seem to be quite tame. The critters
must have seen us all the time."

Mackay raved silently at his lack of perception, and drawing back into
the recess, examined his rifle, and felt for his cartridge-belt
underneath his furry garb.

"Why," said Bob, "we forget we appear to be savages too; they won't
think there is anything wrong."

But in this conjecture Bob was soon proved to be very much mistaken.
Immediately the Shadow withdrew his head, an animated discussion
appeared to take place among the blacks, and their voices were raised to
an alarming pitch. Bob, though still keeping in the shade, could see the
dusky ring clearly by pressing hard against the rocky wall on his left,
and he noted with dismay the growing disturbance which followed the
advent and withdrawal of his companion's befeathered cranium.

"It's no use, Bob," said Mackay, coming up beside him, "They know we are
not the genuine article apparently, an' we've got to fight now whether
we will or no."

Yet still no attempt was made on the part of the natives to come to
closer quarters with the intruders, although many had arisen, bows in
hand, as if impatient for the fray.

"There's a curious old chap sitting in the middle," said Jack, peering
out of his shelter; "I wonder if he has anything to do with their
hesitation? He seems to have a lot to say."

Bob looked again, and caught a glimpse of an odd wizened figure sitting
amid the gesticulating warriors, and evidently endeavouring to restrain
their ardour. He had not been observable before, but a gap made in the
circle by the sudden movement of the restless band had revealed him, as
Jack had quickly noticed.

"He must be their king," remarked Mackay; "but it's vera strange that he
should want to delay the circus."

The grizzled old native certainly appeared to have considerable
influence over the others; there could be no doubt that he was a leader
of some sort, and his policy was clearly not the policy of his
followers, at which the watchers by the tunnel marvelled exceedingly.
For several minutes he continued to address the multitude, glancing
occasionally towards the objects of their wrath and waving his hand as
if signalling for some one on the heights through which Mackay and his
companions had come. But at last he ceased his wordy exhortations, and
slowly arose to his feet, donning as he did so a gigantic head-dress
fashioned out of the skin of some peculiar animal, the grinning head of
which had been cunningly retained in its pristine shape, so that the
living creature seemed to glare out savagely over the thick locks of the
wearer; and as he stood thus arrayed a tumultuous roar issued from the
lips of the awaiting horde, and they turned in a mass and marched
straight for the opening to the underground passage.

"Old Nebuchadnezzar has put his war-paint on at last," muttered Mackay.
"Now, my lads, let us rush them while we can. If we can stop them even
for a minute we'll win the day in spite o' their numbers."

"Let her go, boss!" yelled the Shadow from behind, and Mackay, with a
hoarse bellow of anger, dashed forward to meet the foe, his impetuous
comrades bounding closely at his heels. All were filled with the mad
desire to slay until the last. The lust of battle had taken hold of them
completely; no thought of the probable grim finale was theirs.

Their wild advance caused the blacks to hesitate momentarily, and the
front rank crowded back. Bob noticed in a flash the advantage which had
thus been given, and he knew why Mackay had so suddenly left the shelter
of the cavern. While the natives hustled together not a bow could be
bent. Quickly he dropped on one knee beside his leader, Jack and the
Shadow falling into line as if by a preconceived arrangement. Had they
discharged their rifles at that crucial moment their enemy would have
been mowed down before the leaden hail. But ere a finger pressed the
trigger, the old chief, with a shrill cry, which was heard high above
the din, leapt in front of his myrmidons, and, with an almost regal
gesture, waved them back. That he himself escaped being riddled with
bullets was a lasting testimony to the iron nerves of the dauntless four
who, even at such a critical juncture, disdained to fire on one whose
face was turned away from them. But they recovered themselves promptly
and prepared to follow up their apparent triumph, yet the ancient
warrior stayed them with outstretched hand.

"I'll soon throw him out of the way," roared Mackay, dashing forward.

Before he reached the patriarchal chief, however, a stentorian call from
behind arrested his attention, and he stood rooted to the spot, dazed
and bewildered. Again the cry sounded in his ears--

"Come back, Jim; for God's sake, come back. There's three hundred
against you."

He staggered and would have fallen, had not Bob's strong arm supported
him; then he turned almost fearfully. Five tall figures were hastening
frantically down the hillside, and the foremost was the watcher of the
summit. As in a dream Mackay raised his rifle, and he did not seem to
notice when Bob pressed the deadly tube down. He was gazing with wild
staring eyes at the approaching form.

"Great Centipedes!" howled the Shadow, in amazement. "It's a white man!"

That broke the spell. With a hoarse exclamation, Mackay rushed to meet
the new-comer.

[Illustration: "MACKAY RUSHED TO MEET THE NEW-COMER"]

"Dick!" he cried.

"Yes, it's me, Jim," came the answer. "I knew you would come."




CHAPTER XVI

The Prisoners by the Mount


Silently the two men clasped hands. Mackay could not trust himself to
speak, so strong was his emotion at meeting his old leader in the flesh
after having given him up as dead for over a year.

"Yes, I knew you would come, Jim," repeated Richard Bentley, the
explorer, "and month after month I have watched for you on the
mountain-top, hoping yet fearing for your coming."

"But the bones?" murmured Mackay, questioningly. "I--saw--the bones?"

Bentley smiled. "I wouldn't have thought it of you, Jim," he said, his
eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I see you must have fallen into the
error you used to preach so much against. Where were your powers of
observation? I am sure you would have known the difference between
camels' bones and human bones if you had examined them. But I know how
you must have felt, old man, and I don't wonder at your mistake at such
a terrible moment. They burnt the camels, Jim, because they could never
take them through the passage in the mountain----"

"Whaur is ma auld enemy?" roared an interrupting voice, and a lithe
figure in savage habiliments spun into the midst of the group, blowing
tempestuously. The impetus of his flight down the steep hillside was
only brought to a close when he bounced against Mackay like a weighty
stone from a catapult.

"I kent it was you! I kent it was you!" he cried, in honest delight; "I
couldna mistak' that sweet visage o' yours even though it's half changed
its colour."

"Stewart, you red-heided rascal, you've knocked the wind clean oot o'
me," replied Mackay, sternly, shaking his aggressor's hand nevertheless
with hearty warmth. "I might have known that nothing could have killed
you."

Two others now pressed up, their sun-tanned and bearded features fairly
glowing with delight. They were Phil, the geologist, and Pioneer Bill,
the bushman of Bentley's party, and their joy at seeing their lost
comrade again was affecting in its sincerity.

Emu Bill was the next to approach. "I knew you wouldn't be long after
me, Mac," he said, "but I'm blowed if I expected you to bounce through
so sudden. Bentley, here, mesmerized the nigs that scooped me in, or I
should have been dead meat by this time. They seemed mighty unwilling to
let me go, all the same, an' I was a bit anxious 'bout your reception, I
was."

Meanwhile Bob stood a little way apart, his heart filled with gladness
at the happy reunion. Jack and the Shadow were calmly leaning on their
rifles, and keeping a watchful glance on the old chief, who in turn was
eyeing the boys with a smile on his wrinkled countenance. About a
hundred yards behind him his massed warriors stood, silent and grim.

"I reckon we should go an' wash the filthy black off our faces," said
the Shadow to Jack; "it feels mighty uncomfortable, it does." Then he
gazed at his companion in surprise. "Why," he cried, "you're face is
marked like the bars o' a cage. What has you been doin' to it?"

Jack laughed. "I had forgotten that we ought to be black," said he, "or
I could have told you that yours was like the moon under partial
eclipse."

"And how about mine?" asked Bob.

"Clean washed off," answered Jack. "But look at Mackay; isn't his a
treat? It's striped like the zebra in a circus."

Mackay heard the remark, and put up his hand to his cheek. "Well, well,"
he said, in disgust, "here I was fancyin' myself to be black as the ace
o' spades. No wonder the <DW65>s thought there was something no' right
about our get-up. It must have been the water dripping from the roof o'
the passage." Then he turned to Bob. "It's a good thing we passed that
last batch inside the tunnel, Bob."

Bob nodded gravely, then discarded his cumbersome robe, and straightened
out his sinewy form with a sigh of relief.

"Now, boys," said Mackay, quietly, addressing himself to Bentley and his
comrades, "I want to introduce to you my three young comrades, who have
stuck by me on a journey that has tried the nerves and beaten some o'
the finest explorers who ever tackled the desert. Come forward, Shadow,
an' you, Jack--a pair o' reckless young rascals, true as steel, an'
without fear----"

"I say, boss," protested the Shadow, "do let me have a scrimmage wi' a
<DW65> or two, just to show how brave I really is. I is just burstin'
wi' bravery----"

Jack at this stage dragged him aside.

"And you, Bob," continued Mackay, and his voice unconsciously became
softened, "what can I say for you? Only this, my lad, that without you
this expedition would never have reached the mountain. To you belongs a'
the credit that my auld friends here shower upon me----"

"No, no," broke in Bob, hastily; "it is just like you to say so, but
I'll not allow it. I was only the navigator under your supervision."

Mackay placed his hand on the youth's shoulder. "Bob," he said gently,
"I have a confession to make. I'll admit that I ken how to handle a
sextant an' read the vernier, but beyond that I canna go. I wasna able
to check your observations, my laddie, but I was afraid to tell you
before, lest it might make you nervous to ken that a' our lives depended
on your skill. Here now, at the end o' our journey, I wish to give you
the credit which is your due."

Bentley smiled as he grasped Bob's hand. "Sextant or no sextant," he
said, "you couldn't go far out in Mackay's company, my boy. I know him
of old. But why, your face seems strangely familiar to me; surely----"

Mackay shrugged his broad shoulders, and smiled a happy smile.

"You hand on a bit, Dick," he said. "I have a few words to say to Bob
which I hesitated to speak earlier, for--for obvious reasons. Do you
remember when I first met Jack and you, Bob?" he asked.

"I should say so," answered Bob, fervently. "I have had cause to
thank----"

The big man shook his head deprecatingly. "And do you know why I, who am
a--a very unsociable individual at the best, encouraged you in your
wish to go out to Australia, an' even offered you the extraordinar'
advantage o' my company on the journey? No, of course you don't. It was
because I knew that uncle you spoke of, my lad."

"You knew him?" cried Bob. "But you didn't say----"

"I thought he was dead," broke in Mackay, gravely; "but I was mistaken.
He was, an' is, vera much alive--an' his name is Richard Bentley
Wentworth."

"Great Heavens!" ejaculated Bentley, gazing at Bob earnestly. "Can it be
true? But of course it is. How could I have been so blind."

Then the scales fell from Bob's eyes. "Uncle Dick!" he cried, rushing
forward.

"My dear, dear lad," murmured the explorer, clasping him in his arms.
"This is the first happiness I have had for ten years. You are a worthy
son of a worthy father, my boy. Thank God I have lived to see you."

To say that the onlookers to this strange scene were surprised would ill
express the state of their feelings. They were simply thunderstruck.
Then Jack found his voice. "Hurrah!" he shouted, in an ecstasy of glee,
and hurried to clasp his comrade's hand. Eagerly they all crowded round
to offer their congratulations, and Mackay stood alone, a smile of
peaceful contentment stealing over his grim old features.

"Yes," he muttered, "there is some satisfaction in the wanderer's life
after a'. Bob steered us here, which was right, but Mackay will be the
man to lead the back trail through the mountain."

"I fully believe you, Jim," said a voice at his elbow, and Bentley laid
an affectionate grasp upon his arm.

The whole of the little drama had been enacted within the space of a
few minutes, and the actors therein had apparently become oblivious to
the fact that a band of impatient blacks were drawn up in aggressive
order at no great distance. They were not allowed to remain long in this
blissful state, however, for the aged chief suddenly hastened forward,
and shrilled a few words to Bentley, which had the effect of arousing
that happy man to a true sense of his responsibilities. He answered the
old warrior in an odd monosyllabic language, which he spoke with perfect
ease, much to the astonishment of the youthful members of the group, who
had never before heard a white man converse so fluently in the savage
tongue. For some moments they held high consultation thus, and Bob was
quick to observe a shade of dire uneasiness steal over the features of
his newly found relative; and he noticed, too, that the natives in the
background were gradually drawing nearer and nearer, while loud, angry
mutterings filled their ranks.

It was at this stage that Stewart whispered something into Mackay's ear
which made that gentleman frown deeply, hesitate for a brief instant,
then surreptitiously remove the magazine of his rifle; and his three
companions, obeying a signal from his eye, quickly unloaded their
weapons and secreted the cartridges. Bentley seemed to have been
conscious of these proceedings, for it was only when the firearms had
been rendered harmless that he turned and addressed the party.

"I don't wish to alarm you, boys," he said, "but the king, who has
always been a good friend of mine, tells me that his warriors are
getting beyond his control, and nothing short of a miracle can save us.
You killed four of them, you see, and wounded about a dozen more, and,
by their law, a life must pay for a life."

"That's vera comforting," grunted Mackay, preparing to reload his rifle
afresh, and glaring savagely at Stewart the while.

"Don't! For Heaven's sake don't do that, Jim," exclaimed Bentley. "Lay
down your rifles, and I'll try and talk them over."

Reluctantly each proffered his deadly weapon to the king, who received
it with unconcealed joy.

"We've still got our revolvers," whispered Jack to Stewart, who was
looking very sorrowful indeed.

Yet still the warriors came surging on, despite their old king's
frenzied expostulations. In vain he displayed the trophies he had
received in proof of the good intentions of the visitors, and as his
followers crowded heedlessly forward, his wrath at his own impotence was
terrible to witness.

Mackay was deciding on the bold stroke of retaking the weapons from the
king's grasp, when Bentley stepped slowly out to meet the angry mob. He
was greeted with shrill yells, the dominant note of which seemed to be
fear and expectancy rather than fury.

"He'll be killed! he'll be killed!" cried Jack, making as if to dash to
his assistance.

The Shadow restrained him. "I reckon he's all right," said he. "Them
nigs is howlin' wi' terror, they are."

"What power can he have over them?" asked Bob, in awe, as he watched the
single man sway the fiery multitude with his calm words. Phil, the
geologist, who was by his side, answered him.

"Your uncle's knowledge of aboriginal tribes has stood us all in good
stead before this," he said quietly. "Listen to that cry. Can you make
anything of it?"

"It sounds like Bilya Backan," Bob said, straining his ears to catch the
prevailing shouts.

"Bilya Backan!" exclaimed Mackay. "Has Dick got that position here? Ah,
well, it means that we are safe enough so long as he keeps his power;
but I can see trouble ahead when he tries to get away."

"Why, what does it mean?" questioned Bob, in wonder.

"Mean? It means that he is the sorcerer o' this tribe, and will be
guarded night and day if they think he wants to clear out. But, hallo!
he doesna seem to be succeeding just as well as he should. It seems to
me I'd better be sorcerer number two, an' devise an opportune miracle."

Bentley, indeed, appeared to have great difficulty in quelling the
unruly spirit of the savage warriors. They crowded around him almost
threateningly, and brandished their bows and clubs in half-restrained
fury. The unhappy king had joined his more powerful friend, and was
lending his high-pitched voice to the uproar. Mackay unconcernedly
chipped at something he held in his hand with the point of his
sheath-knife, then stalked jauntily towards the gesticulating throng.

"Keep back, Jim! keep back!" warned Bentley. "You are the man they want
principally. Keep back, if you value your life."

"You canna kill me, Dick," laughed Mackay. "I've come over to work a
miracle to that effect."

Yet to all appearances it seemed as if the resourceful Scot was tempting
Providence to too great a degree in the present instance. The blacks
redoubled their clamour at his approach, and one false move on the part
of Bentley at this juncture would assuredly have brought about his
companion's doom, but he did not once turn his back on the truculent
band.

"What wild idea have you got?" he cried over his shoulder. "I think I'll
manage them all right. I'm telling them that the spirit of the thunder
killed their brethren for their own misdeeds."

"That's good enough," said Mackay. "But you'd better tell them you've
decided to slaughter me right off now, only that you're afraid Wangul,
the maist powerful god in their calendar, will protect me, seein' I'm an
auld friend o' his. Get my rifle from old Methuselah, Dick; let me load
it, an' shoot me with the first cartridge. Savvy?"

Bentley pretended not to hear, but he spoke out several sentences
rapidly, which evidently pleased the warriors mightily, then he signed
to the king to fetch the rifles.

"The long-barrelled one's mine, Dick," cautioned Mackay. "Ah, that's
right."

He seized his treasured weapon, and in a trice had inserted two
cartridges, and closed the breech, leaving one in the barrel. Bentley
received back the deadly firearm with evident trepidation, and once more
addressed the multitude.

"Hear ye, O my people," he cried, in their own weird tongue. "The friend
of Wangul, the mighty dweller in the waters, whose breath dries up the
land and makes it desolate, stands before you and dares the strength of
the big thunder. If it so be that he dies by the spirit which issueth
forth when the thunder speaks, then shall you work your will upon the
others. But if he lives and defies the spirit, then surely is he indeed
in the guarding care of Wangul, and must be permitted to go unhurt with
his brethren to partake of food with me in my home by the hillside."

Mackay smiled grimly as he gathered the text of the speech, but a great
roar from the assembled blacks indicated that the arrangement met with
their full approval. Bentley raised the rifle with an obvious effort,
and at the action a wild cry of alarm broke from the lips of the little
group in the rear, who had never dreamt that Mackay's promised miracle
was to take on such a deadly aspect of reality. And now the withered old
chief created a diversion. With a gurgle of joy he sprang forward and
took the rifle from Bentley's unresisting hands, and levelling it almost
against Mackay's broad chest, pulled the trigger. A terrific explosion
followed, and Bentley uttered a groan of anguish. The miracle, as he had
understood it, was to have been accomplished by his firing wide, and he
had relinquished the firearm, never thinking that the wily king of the
savages meant to do other than lay it aside with the others. To his
intense astonishment, however, and to the amazement of the massed
blacks, the "friend of Wangul" stood erect and smiling after the
thunderous reverberation had died away.

A loud cheer from his comrades behind showed how truly thankful they
were at his marvellous escape from what had looked like certain death,
but the most astounded of all present was, undoubtedly, the dusky
individual who had fired the shot; he pranced about with the reeking
rifle still in his hands, shrieking out all sorts of incantations.
Suddenly he stopped short, opened and closed the breech of the gun,
thereby forcing another cartridge into position, and, with a crafty
smile on his lips, directed the long tube at a stalwart savage standing
near, and fired. The unoffending victim uttered a yell like a wounded
dingo, and sprang several feet into the air, then subsided on the
ground, and writhed in torment with a bullet-hole clean through his
shoulder. That was enough. With droning wails of fear the natives drew
back in alarm, gazing at the man who had withstood a similar shock with
wild, staring eyes. Bentley knelt down and examined the wounded native,
then, calling two of his brethren, who came forward reluctantly, he gave
them some directions for his treatment. The king meanwhile was
grovelling on the ground, his head beating the dust, and his voice
raised in feeble lamentation; and, while he was thus prostrated, Jack
crept stealthily up and gathered in the rifles lying near.

"That will be another miracle for the old beggar to explain," said he,
when he rejoined his companions.

"You've fairly frightened the old fellow to death, Jim," remarked
Bentley, stooping over the fallen monarch. "I'll tell you about him
afterwards; but he was proof against all sorts of sorceries, and now I
shouldn't winder if he turns over a new leaf, and goes in for the
extremest forms of savagery. But come with us to our retreat. There are
many things we have to talk over to-night. This day has been a wonderful
one for all of us."

"You might tell me, boss, how you dodged the bullet?" pleaded the
Shadow, as they all walked along together.

"Yes, that is a matter I should like to understand," added Bentley.

The big man laughed. "The explanation is vera simple," said he. "There
wasna any bullet in the first cartridge; I took it oot aforehand!"

"You're just the same auld deceitfu' schemer you used to be," murmured
Stewart, sorrowfully. "I'm fair shocked at your woefu' depravity. You
would actually bamboozle the puir heathen!"

"What's that you've got inside your cloak?" demanded Mackay, slyly,
noting an odd protuberance in his corrector's garment.

Stewart beamed. "That's a vera dangerous gun, Mac, ma man," he answered
solemnly, "an' I'm takin' it awa' in case the unfortunate <DW65>s might
dae themselves damage wi' it."

They had been so engrossed in their mutual recriminations that Mackay
had not noticed the odd logged structure which now appeared before them;
it was half hidden amid a splendid group of lime and cedar trees which
occurred in the valley, about two hundred yards to the north of the
tunnel entrance, and the waters of the beautiful lake lapped the white
sands within a few paces of it. Mackay gave a rough glance round to make
sure of his position. The sun had descended behind the frowning barrier
range, and a gloom was settling over the valley.

Bentley guessed his thoughts. "I know every foot of the country, Jim,"
he said quietly. "We'll talk over our plans to-night. What have we got
in the larder, Stewart?"

"I caught ane or twa fish this morning," answered that individual,
smilingly. "I thought we might have some visitors to keep us company."

"And there's bread made from wild bananas," added Phil. "It's not half
bad, though it will take you a little time to get accustomed to it."

Bentley pushed open the door, which was an airy contrivance composed of
light saplings interlaced with long tendril forest growths, and it swung
from above by stout plaited grassy cords.

"Enter, boys," he said, "and welcome, most heartily welcome, to the
white man's dwelling in the mystic valley of the Never Never."

Mackay mechanically raised his hand to his head as he stepped between
the portals, and a grunt of disgust forced itself from his lips when,
instead of the hat he expected to find, a few muddy feathers broke off
in his grasp. The boys, following close behind, saw the action and
laughed, yet immediately proceeded to copy his example, so strong was
the habit of civilization upon them.

The single large room within was bare, save for a rough logged table in
the middle of the floor, and sundry rude but comfortable chairs which
were scattered about.

"We sleep on the ground," explained Bentley; "we've never had the heart
to attempt building proper bunks. Have you a match, Jim?"

Mackay sought in his pocket and produced the small corked bottle in
which he carried his supply so that it might be preserved from damp, and
Bentley, with a sigh of thankfulness, applied a light to a torch of fine
fibrous sticks stuck in a crevice in the table. Bob watched him with
many questions surging on his lips.

"How do you usually get a light?" he asked at length.

"You are anticipating me, Bob," laughed Bentley. "At night we use the
flints, in the old primitive way, but in the daytime I use the lens of
my pocket microscope which was left to me. If I hold it in the sun's
rays it will light a fire of these twigs in less than sixty seconds.
That was the first thing the natives saw me do that made them marvel.
They couldn't understand how I could call down fire from heaven, and
it's one of the few things which that knowing old king of theirs hasn't
grasped yet."

In a few minutes Stewart and Pioneer Bill were busy preparing supper.
There seemed to be no lack of cooking utensils, and each vessel was most
peculiarly marked, as if it had been stamped out of the solid. Mackay,
who had thrown off his encumbering outer garb, sat gazing into the fire,
apparently lost in the depths of his thoughts; Bentley and Phil were
talking earnestly together in a subdued voice; Emu Bill roamed aimlessly
about the room; Bob, Jack, and the Shadow were glaring with wide-open
eyes at the thin metal platters with which Stewart had adorned the
table;--not one of them could find words to speak.

"Is--is it another mirage?" muttered the Shadow, at length, stretching
out a hesitating hand; then a whoop of delight burst from his lips.
"Say, boss," he cried, shaking Mackay energetically by the shoulder.
"Look! Look at this!"

Mackay awoke from his reverie with a start, and turned his head.

"Ay, it's gold, Shadow," said he, calmly. "I am no' vera surprised."

Bentley gave a whistle of annoyance. "Well, boys," he explained, "I
absolutely forgot to mention the matter, but gold is so plentiful in
this quarter that I have got quite accustomed to it, and I do believe I
had also forgotten that the stuff has such a powerful value----"

"Spin us your yarn after supper, Dick," said Mackay. "I'm as hungry as a
starved dingo just now."

"I've felt a bit sick ever since I saw them plates an' things," said Emu
Bill, pausing in his perambulations. "Howlin' blazes! I wish we could
cart the whole mountain away wi' us."

"I don't suppose you've got a bit o' tea in your pocket?" interjected
Stewart, eyeing Mackay pathetically. "No? Weel, I'll just have to mak'
up my ain concoction. It's no' vera bad when you get accustomed to it;
but I'm sair wearyin' for a ceevilized drink. I hope the flavour o' the
leaves winna disagree wi' ye; I gather them off a wee bush that grows in
the forest, but the taste is naething like the real article."

Stewart's tea, however, proved to be a wonderfully palatable beverage,
and the accompanying fare of such a highly appetizing nature that
Mackay's little party soon felt revived to their fullest energies.

"It will be something to remember that we've eaten out of golden
dishes," Jack remarked with much satisfaction. "I think I'll appropriate
a spoon as a memento."

Bentley sighed wearily. "You may be tired enough of these same spoons
before you leave here, Jack," he said.

Mackay gave a snort of disapproval, and rose from his chair.

"Load up these rifles, Shadow," he directed. "And now, Dick"--seating
himself once more--"fire away wi' your story. What sort o' place have we
struck, an' how do ye account for the natives being so different from
others? an' tell me how in the name o' a' that's wonderful, you havena
escaped long syne wi' your pockets fu' o' nuggets?"

Without hesitation, Bentley plunged into his narrative. "When you had
been about an hour away, Jim," he began, "chasing up that confounded
camel, and while we were loading the team, we were suddenly surrounded
by an army of the oddest-looking warriors imaginable. They must have
been hiding in the scrub near by us for some time, for we had no warning
whatever of their coming, and, to make matters worse, not one of us had
a rifle ready. They bore down on us without a word, and, of course,
quickly had the best of it, for they were ten to one, and were armed
with clubs and arrows. They seemed quite peaceably inclined, however,
and did not appear to be in any way anxious to exterminate us at once,
though Stewart got a crack on the head which nearly finished him."

"I did that," murmured that individual, patting the back of his skull
tenderly. "But ye shid mak' mention o' hoo I squelched a wheen o' them
wi' ma naked fist aforehand."

"They carried us away," continued Bentley, reminiscently, "though not
before they had built a huge fire beside our camp. I thought they meant
it for us; but when I saw them unloading the poor camels I knew at once
what was going to happen. It is a common custom among the most knowing
savages to burn the bodies of animals or men so as to give the
impression that the expedition had died of thirst years before. They
have deceived Government search-parties many times by that ruse, and
frightened off explorers from tackling the same supposedly droughty
quarter again. Anyhow, our captors made short work of the unfortunate
camels, scooped up every bit of our outfit, and marched on. I don't need
to speak of our surprise when we passed through the choking fumes of the
sulphur springs. We all know about them, and probably you know more than
we do, for you were camped alongside, and we scarcely got a glimpse of
the wonderful craters. The passage, too, you know possibly better than
we, for we have never been allowed to go back to the entrance, and
twenty warriors guard it night and day when there are any signs of
danger, or a strange tribe is in the vicinity. But the biggest surprise
of all came when we had an opportunity of studying the valley and its
formations, and we got that very speedily, for that curious old king of
the tribe released us almost as soon as we were brought in."

"I can remember he had some difficulty with his followers then, too,"
interjected Phil, gravely. "They weren't quite so wild as they were
to-day, but they were bad enough until you talked to them in their own
lingo."

Bentley smiled. "I could see even then," he said, "that their aged
leader had some strange scheme in hand, though it was several weeks
later before he laid his views quite clearly before me."

"And do you mean to say that you waited here o' your ain free will as
prisoners?" snorted Mackay.

"For the first little while we were interested to know what sort of
country we had reached, and then, when even the riches of the valley
began to pall on us, we suddenly realized that we could not help
ourselves. The tunnel was always well watched, but even had we got
safely through the mountain, where were we then? On the edge of an
enormous desert without food or means of transport. You must recollect,
Jim, that the camels had been killed, as probably yours have been by
this time."

Mackay started to his feet, but resumed his seat with a smile.

"It would be dark before they could venture out," he said, musingly. "We
have a good ten hours' grace yet. Hurry up wi' your story, Dick; I want
to know whether we should stay here, an' get rich quick wi' the gold oot
o' the mountain, or clear out while we have a chance."

"You forget, Jim," said Bentley, quietly, "that your chance has gone. I
tried to warn you from the summit in every conceivable manner, but you
wouldn't understand. I even scribbled charcoal messages on pieces of
wood and threw them down, and you paid no attention."

"We thought you were throwing stones at us," said Bob. "You looked so
very like a native at that distance."

"It was a miracle we didn't pop you over with our rifles," commented Emu
Bill, shortly.

"I dinna see that our chance has vanished just yet, if we care to take
it," Mackay observed, with undiminished assurance. "But go on wi' your
yarn, Dick; what I'm anxious to know is, who made that tunnel and for
what purpose?"

"First of all, let me tell you," said Bentley, "that this valley is
almost impregnable from every direction but one. Away to the north-east
there is a slight break in the circular range, but the country in that
quarter is so broken and desolate that it is almost impassable, and
certainly no explorer making an east or west course would dream of
altering his route to the south at that point. He would rather give the
mountain--if he happened to see it then--as wide a berth as possible. On
the west, as you know, Nature guards her secret very effectually, and it
might have remained undiscovered for another hundred years if you had
not escaped from the expedition as you did, and so been able to track up
the mysterious mountain afresh, and with greater caution. But now that
you are here, you may take it as a surety that you will never be allowed
to leave with the knowledge you have gained. The fact is, boys, this
valley in the heart of the Never Never land is a perfect treasure-house
of gold and gems, and it is inhabited by the remnants of a once truly
remarkable tribe. They are still infinitely superior in knowledge and
intellect to any other aboriginal race that I know, but they have been
degenerating slowly these last many centuries, ever since the upheaval,
I should imagine, which altered the aspect of Central Australia, and
separated it from Polynesia. Their environment has protected them to an
enormous degree, for their home in this natural paradise is surely all
that could be desired, but, from what I have been able to gather from
the king, they have inherited a policy of isolation, which is now almost
a part of their creed. Any unsuspecting tribe that wanders near is
attacked with the utmost ferocity, as I have myself witnessed on more
than one occasion. The early rulers of this strange little kingdom were
undoubtedly wise men, and it seems to me they were struggling towards a
kind of civilization. The tunnel was driven in their time, but whether
it was intended to provide a means of exterminating their savage
neighbours of the plains, or gradually pushed through in the course of
their excavations for gold, I haven't been able to discover, though I
rather fancy both reasons came into play. The gold has been used for all
sorts of purposes, because it can be hammered into any shape so very
easily. Its value in the outside world is wholly incomprehensible to
them."

"Do you think they have ever heard of the great world beyond the
desert?" asked Bob, who had been listening with keen interest.

"There can be no doubt about that, my lad. It's simply marvellous how
remote native races acquire their news; but they invariably get it,
though in this case there is nothing inexplicable about it, for the
cunning old king has his scouts wandering all over the country. The
dangers of the vast salt tracks have little meaning to them, for they
seem to have cultivated an instinct for smelling out any water there may
be within miles of them, and they can travel a very long way without it
if necessity arises. Their system of navigation is beyond my
understanding altogether."

"An' what do you think made the old chap so tenderhearted when you came
along, Dick?" asked Mackay.

Bentley shook his head. "I know why he didn't demolish us at first," he
said. "The tunnel had been commencing to cave in about the centre, where
the dripping water had weakened the walls, and all his warriors' efforts
at timbering it were without avail. You see, they hadn't grasped the
necessary principle of locking the timber to prevent lateral strain. I
suppose he thought the white man could make things right."

"An' it was a terrible hard job too," grunted Stewart, "for we had to
do the maist o' it in the dark. A light wouldna' burn five minutes in
the place, an' the air was enough to poison a <DW65>."

"After that," continued Bentley, "I seemed to get into his good graces
somewhat. I talked to him of other tribes I had met, and generally
showed such a keen interest in the welfare of his kingdom, that I
believe he altered his purpose to kill us, greatly against the wishes of
his subjects. It was then he gave out that I was the direct
representative of one of their most dreaded gods, and I've had to live
up to my reputation ever since. You saw the result of my influence over
the king to-day. Yet I've noticed the more I have tried to civilize him,
the less his warriors like him, and, to tell the truth, I expected an
open revolt against his ruling long before this. If I hadn't arrived in
time to-day I shouldn't like to think what might have happened. I didn't
expect you could possibly get through the passage, for when I rescued
Bill from the warriors they went straight back, and we climbed the
mountain to make another effort to warn you against trying. They were so
savage when I took Bill from them, that I believe they would have killed
you right away if they had met you. I don't know yet how you escaped."

"As it happened," said Mackay, dryly, "the darkness saved us when they
first came through, an' when they were returning we had fortunately made
a mistake in our direction, and got into a cross drive."

"Thank goodness we made these drives," cried Bentley, fervently.

"You made them?" echoed Mackay, incredulously.

"Yes, we made them, Jim. I tried to get the natives to help, but they
very quickly tired of the work, and contented themselves watching us
instead. I felt curious to know the width of the lode, and we just
managed to strike the walls of the giant fissure, when our picks, which
we had recovered, were worn almost to the wooden handles. I scarcely
fancied continuing operations with flint-headed implements, such as must
have been used in the main work of excavation, and, besides, I didn't
see any hope of us being able to carry away the gold we got, even if an
opportunity of escape had offered. We washed the stuff in the lake here
by hand; it decomposed very rapidly on contact with the air, and hardly
required any crushing. Stewart made all our cooking utensils out of the
results of our work, and I melted what was left. You will see it lying
over there in the corner."

Mackay looked casually in the direction indicated, but the three boys
made a dash towards the golden treasure, and after a first glance the
usually imperturbable Scot arose with a bound and followed them. There,
lying carelessly on the damp clay, were half a dozen huge irregularly
shaped masses, which glistened yellow in the dull light. Jack lifted one
in his hand with some difficulty.

"I reckon I want to lie down an' die somewhere," muttered Emu Bill,
feebly blinking his eyes at the dazzling spectacle.

"How much do you think you've got here, Dick?" said Mackay, calmly.

Bentley smiled. "Just about a hundredweight, I calculate," he answered.
"But it is no earthly good to us. We can't carry it away, even if we had
the chance."

Mackay looked perplexed, and for a few moments seemed to be struggling
with a mighty problem.

"The weight wouldna' be much among the lot o' us," he murmured at
length, "but--but it hurts me sair to think o' leaving a' that stuff in
the mountain."

"Don't let that worry you, old man," broke in Bentley hastily. "If
you've got a scheme for escape, let us act upon it without delay;
there's more than any of us will ever need in this shanty besides gold.
Show him the collection, Phil."

Without a word Phil drew forth a short, deep case made of plaited twigs
from a recess under the table, and threw open the lid, exposing a mass
of red, blue, and yellow tinted pebbles.

"There you are, Mac," said he, "they don't look anything special in
their present rough state, but they're worth a long way more than a
hundredweight of gold, and certainly very much more portable. They are
rubies and sapphires, and I think there are some diamonds among them.
There's surely enough here to go round without bothering about more,
though I can show you where to get them to-morrow if you want a bigger
stock."

"To-morrow, Phil," said Mackay, with decision, "we'll be marching along
homeward bound, if we're no' lying perforated wi' arrows in some corner
o' the tunnel. We'll help you to carry the treasure, an' maybe
afterwards we'll come back an' get some for oursel's. Isn't that right,
Bob?"

Bob nodded, then quickly dived into his pocket, and extricated therefrom
sundry rounded stones, and showed them to Phil.

"Are these any good?" he asked. "I picked them up on the other side of
the mountain the first day we arrived, and had forgotten all about
them."

"They're exactly the same, Bob," returned the geologist, with a smile,
"and they come from the same source, apparently."

"Let us know your plan, Jim, and we'll make an effort to get away if it
is possible," urged Bentley. "But I won't budge unless we agree to make
an even divide of the treasure of the Never Never." And the sharing of
the spoil was insisted upon with happy unanimity.

It was now about ten o'clock in the evening and Mackay pushed open the
door and looked out; the air was close and sultry as if presaging a
thunderstorm, and a heavy, dark cloud suspended over the little valley;
in the gloom near the tunnel several forms were to be seen flitting
about. He returned into the room with a smile on his lips.

"We're goin' to have rain, I think," he announced, "an' I shouldn't
wonder if there's a bit o' thunder along wi' it. The elements will fight
on our side, boys; we'll just give them a bit o' a start. An' now,
Dick," he added, eyeing his old leader quizzically, "did I no' see you
lookin' at us when we were blowing chunks o' Australia into the air this
morning?"

"I saw you making a tomb for poor Never Never Dave," answered Bentley,
sadly.

Emu Bill groaned and Mackay sighed deeply.

"But that was yesterday, Dick. What about this morning?"

"Yes, I noticed you this morning, too; but I only heard one explosion,
and didn't think anything of it."

"Where were your powers o' observation, Dick? We were bursting a new
entrance into the mountain." But Mackay's satisfaction at his sally was
clouded by the sad recollections aroused by his friend's first remark.
"You tell him, Bob," he added weakly. "Tell him o' our precautionary
arrangements which should stand us in good stead now."

A few minutes later a series of great pattering drops on the bark roof
of the dwelling intimated that the expected storm had burst; slowly they
came at first, then louder and louder hissed the growing deluge until it
seemed as if the floodgates of the heavens had broken loose, and a dull,
tearing roar echoed across the vale as the thunder-cloud rent in twain.

"If that doesna frighten the <DW65>s they ought to be ashamed o'
themselves," grunted Mackay. "Now we'll go, lads, an' trust to
Providence an' our rifles for a safe journey."

They gathered up their precious freight, each taking a goodly share so
that nothing was left, and silently they filed out into the raging
night, and, with Bentley leading, groped a cautious course towards the
underground passage. Through the beating torrent they caught glimpses of
many lights in the native camps bordering the lake near at hand, and the
droning intonation of a most melancholy chant reached their ears in
occasional snatches as they hurried on their way. The natives were
invoking the favour of the mighty thunder-god who that day had smitten
one of their warriors so cruelly. At last they arrived at the opening
from which Mackay and his companions had first gazed out in wonder, and
with a united breath of thankfulness entered the yawning darkness of the
cavern.

Yet, even as they disappeared, a shrill cry of alarm sounded out above
the storm from the vicinity of the home they had just vacated, and a
chorus of answering yells showed too truly that their flight had been
discovered.

"That was the old king's voice," whispered Bentley, as the fugitives
paused for a moment to listen. "He probably called to get you to stay
the thunder. We just got away in time."

"The other end is where our danger lies," muttered Mackay. "Now, lads,
follow me, an' be as slippery as you can. Those howlin' hyenas will be
at our backs in a minute."

Blindly they stumbled on, staggering from wall to wall in their feverish
eagerness; but before they had even reached the cross-drives, the cries
of their savage pursuers were echoing along the passage close in their
rear. On, on they laboured, and now Mackay began to hesitate in his
course, so that his comrades kept pushing up in a confused mass behind
him. In the excitement which reigned they could not well understand why
their doughty leader should pause at such an inopportune moment. But
that level-headed individual knew exactly what he was doing; in another
instant he had found the rope which hung over the treacherous pit.

"Now, my bonnie boys," said he, "over you go. You, Bob, take the lead,
and walk quietly on. I'll be after you in a jiff."

"I never knew of this death-trap," breathed Bentley, hoarsely. "Jim, old
man, Heaven knows how you managed to negotiate this terrible place at
first."

"My power o' observation is strong even in the dark," chuckled the
brawny Scot. "Now, grip the rope, Dick, an' get across. Here's old
Methuselah's gang almost beside us, an' I want to stop their progress a
bit."

Bentley delayed no further, and in a flash Mackay too had leapt the
gully, but, ere he hastened after the others, he leaned out over the
unseen chasm and smote at the thick cord high overhead with his
sheath-knife, then he gathered up his burden and struggled after his
companions. He overtook them while they were yet some distance from the
sudden bend which occurred just opposite the entrance the gelignite had
made, for Bob was treading cautiously, expecting each moment to be
assailed by the warriors whose duty it was to abide by the rocking
stone. And that his fears in that direction were by no means groundless
was proved by the excited mutterings which at this moment issued from
the end of the passage, and the ominous snap of the great rock as it
closed into position was distinctly heard. The watchful blacks had
evidently been investigating matters outside, and had just returned to
their post. The clamour of the pursuing band was now most demoralizingly
loud and fierce. They seemed to be already rejoicing at the pleasing
prospect before them: their enemy was neatly caught between two fires;
little wonder that they sent out shriek after shriek of delirious
acclamation. And in the mean time the escaping party, trudging heavily
through the mire, rejoiced also that the noisy exuberance of the
warriors so effectually drowned their own hastening footsteps, and thus
prevented their near approach to safety from being made known to the
awaiting savages.

Then a yell, louder and more dismal than ever, suddenly echoed through
the cavern; it was followed by a dull plunge, and immediately a
succession of similar disturbances intimated that the all too eager
warriors had experienced a rude and ardour-cooling check. Mackay
chuckled right heartily when the success of his scheme was thus revealed
to him.

"There has been more than one o' the beggars who has jumped for the rope
an' missed," he whispered, with ill-suppressed mirth; and then only did
his comrades guess the part he had played in the natives' discomfiture.

By this time they had reached the quick turn of the passage, and Bob
felt carefully for the saving gap that would lead to freedom. The cries
of the baffled warriors in the rear now rang out through the darkness
like the wails of coyotes cheated of their prey, and their brethren
ahead, by their hoarse exclamations of dismay, were apparently
considerably exercised over the strange happening which had taken place.

"Quick, boys," said Mackay, when Bob had laid bare the opening. "Up ye
go in a hurry, an' hang on to your treasure; I'll send the rifles aloft
when you're a' through."

Bentley would have remonstrated, but the imperturbable director of
affairs was obdurate.

"I'm engineering this circus," he said sternly. "Now, out you go.
Whoop-la!"

In his own hearty exuberance he seemed utterly to have forgotten the
near presence of a part of the enemy, and his voice sounded out
boisterously as he cheered each of his companions on his way to the
outside world. For a brief instant there was absolute silence from the
extreme end of the tunnel, and Mackay knew that the inevitable rush
would speedily follow. Nor was he mistaken. With screams of rage the
blacks advanced, and the reckless man laughed aloud as they came. He
caught Jack, who alone remained, in his powerful arms and literally
hurled him into the embrace of Stewart, who stood ready to receive him.

"And now, my lads, here's the rifles," he cried, thrusting the collected
weapons out through the aperture.

"Hang the rifles! Come oot yersel'!" howled Stewart, reaching down a
massive bony fist, and grasping his comrade by the shoulder; and in this
way Mackay, clutching fast to the armoury of the expedition, was hauled
to the surface, even as the foremost of the vengeful warriors dashed
their heads impotently into the aperture through which he had been
yanked so rigorously forth.

[Illustration: "MACKAY, CLUTCHING FAST TO THE ARMOURY OF THE EXPEDITION,
WAS HAULED TO THE SURFACE"]

"There was no need for you exertin' your muscular powers in that vera
drastic fashion," reproved the latest arrival, turning, and thrusting
the stock of his rifle down into the gap with calm forcefulness.

The response which greeted his action seemed to soothe him somewhat.

"All's well that ends well," he remarked philosophically; "but before we
start congratulating oorsel's we'd better lock these twa doors an' leave
the keys on the ootside."

In a short time a very effective boulder barricade was arranged before
both entrances, the enormous rocks used for the purpose being rolled and
carried to their positions by the united strength of the party; only
when this work was completed, when the yells of the baulked warriors
sounded dull and subdued behind the solid barriers, only then did the
earnest toilers pause.

The night was beautifully clear, not a cloud was visible in the sky, and
the stars shone down with steady radiance. The rising mists from the
bubbling caldrons spread like a ghostly white veil in the near westward
distance, and ever and anon a heavy rumbling would run along the line of
the deep cavities, and fresh vapoury puffs from the craters ascended
towards the heavens. For fully a minute no one spoke; the extreme
tension on their nerves for the last half-hour had been most trying to
all, and their silence was now more eloquent of their thankfulness than
words.

"There has been no rain on this side of the mountain," said Bob, at
length, examining the rubbly surface of the ground intently.

"It would all condense inside the valley, Bob," answered Bentley. "We
are back once more in the thirsty desert of the Never Never,
and"--turning to Mackay--"we owe our escape to you, Jim; we owe our
lives to you----"

"We'll no' dwell on the subject," interrupted that gentleman, cheerily.
"I have no doubt we'll a' find oursel's in tighter corners on some other
expedition. It's fair surprisin' how often a man can warstle oot o' a
difficulty by the skin o' his teeth. I'm just a wee bit afraid that the
skin o' my teeth is gettin' sair worn at the game, but it's grand fun,
a' the same. However," he continued hastily, as an upward glance
revealed to him several dark forms on the summit outlined against the
sky, "I think I'll go and round up the camels now, so that we can start
on the homeward trail without any unnecessary delay. I've a dim idea
that the climate o' the country nearer Fortunate Spring will be
healthier for us than this."

"I is comin' wi' you, boss," cried the Shadow. "I think I know where the
leather-hided animiles are."

"All right, my lad; an' you, Jack, might unearth the stores an' the
water-bag, so as to be ready when we come back. Never mind the heavy
tools. I see the <DW65>s have shifted the case o' gelignite we left in
sight. I hope it gives them indigestion pretty bad."

"Have ye no' got an extra pair o' breeks in the camp?" inquired Stewart,
appealingly. "I dinna like waltzin' aboot like a gorilla oot o' a
circus."

Mackay laughed. "I'm vera pleased to see you've got some sense o' shame
left in ye, my man," he said sternly. "Mak' free o' the wardrobe o' the
expedition, boys, every one o' you. Bob will dispense it out, though I
don't think there's enough to go round. Anyhow, there's lots o' string
in the outfit, an' you can easily mak' yoursel's vera presentable
garments out o' the empty bags when we get further on; but I can see
we'll a' be in an outward state o' advanced disintegration before we
reach civilization."


It was nearly two months later, and the sun stared pitilessly down on a
struggling camel-train that was wearily forcing its way outwards from
the grim desert of the interior. The animals comprising the team were
but four in all, surely much too inadequate a number to be the mainstay
of the nine strangely garbed figures who accompanied them; yet, judging
by the light packs on their backs, it was very apparent that the outfit
of the returning expedition did not greatly impede their movements.
Slowly, slowly the great hulking creatures laboured on. At the leader's
head strode a youth, who, every now and again, turned to pat the
trembling nostrils of his cumbrous charge, and cheer it forward with
endearing words. His face was deeply browned by long exposure to the
scorching sun's rays. His clothing, consisting of a few shreds of what
had once been a shirt, and a pair of nether garments so tattered and
torn that they clung by almost miraculous means to his person, was
sufficient to indicate that he had been long on the march; but if
further proof were required, a glance at his boots would have been more
than enough. The uppers alone were left, and they were tied to his
sockless feet by numberless cords and strips of hessian cloth. But
despite the dilapidated nature of his dress, it was the acme of
respectability, compared with that of some of his comrades. Indeed, the
combined wardrobe of the party was such that the most abandoned tramp
would have turned aside from it in disgust.

"Keep Misery moving, Jack--keep him moving," cried a familiar voice; and
a strongly built, yet gaunt-faced man strode up alongside the young
leader of the train, and patted his shoulder in friendly encouragement.

Then he stopped and awaited the coming of the rearmost camel, which was
lagging painfully, and addressed its attendant in similar tones.

"An hour or so more will do it, my lad--only an hour or so more. Golden
Flat should be just over the horizon."

"Say, boss," came the answer, "this here fiery animile is 'bout busted;
but I reckon I'll pull him in somehow."

He groped about in some hidden recess of his well-ventilated shirt, and
extricated a small shining instrument, which he placed to his lips with
a smile of real joy.

"Now, boys," he cried, "here we goes again--one, two, three!" and at
once the strains of a favourite melody echoed out in the air.

The bulk of his companions shuddered at the opening shock, then joined
boisterously in the chorus. Loudly, triumphantly, they bellowed forth in
varying voices and keys, and, lo! the camels pricked up their ears and
quickened their steps, and the weary-eyed singers and chief musician
marched to the tune thus given with sprightly step--


     "Soon we'll be in London town.
     Sing, my lads, yo ho-o----"


Again and again the cheering refrain was taken up; then suddenly a cry
of astonishment burst from the lips of a lithe and wiry young man who
had been on the point of consulting his note-book for the twentieth time
since he took his noonday altitude.

"We've missed it!" he cried. "That must be Kalgoorlie ahead."

The music stopped at once; the white, glistening roofs of a fair-sized
township had suddenly appeared to view, nestling at the foot of a gentle
undulation in the land surface.

"I'm afraid there has been some mistake made, Bob," said a tall,
grave-faced, dark-bearded man who walked by his side. "What do you make
of it, Jim?" He addressed the stalwart individual who had but a moment
or so before been coaxing on the camels.

"I don't know, Dick; it's hardly big enough for Kalgoorlie. I canna
think what place it is. Bob, my lad, that's the first error o'
navigation I've known you to make."

So did Mackay's expedition, with its augmented numbers rescued from the
far back Never Never Land, yet with one sad depletion in the original
party, see civilization once more. It would have been hard indeed to
recognize them now, so marked were they by privation. The stores had
been used most sparingly, for the supply had not been lavish enough to
stand the additional strain imposed upon it by the extra appetites of
Bentley's party. So all had cheerfully pinched and starved themselves
throughout the long journey. But now their sufferings were nearly over;
civilization, in the form of some unknown township or city, was in
sight. Bob alone seemed to be grieved. He had steered an unerring course
these many weeks; and now, when he fancied he was heading for Golden
Flat, it was humiliating to feel that at the very last he had made some
grave miscalculation.

"Never mind, Bob," said Mackay, kindly. "You knew you were safe enough
in your direction."

Bob sighed and shook his head, and consulted his log-book again, but
appeared to derive little satisfaction from his scrutiny. On, on the
worn-out team staggered; and as the welcome settlement loomed up nearer
and nearer the hearts of the wayfarers grew light. Yet the size of the
township confused them; there were several wide streets in evidence, and
one great building in particular arrested their attention. And yet
withal the whole scene seemed strangely familiar to Mackay and his young
companions, and Emu Bill, too, looked puzzled as he gazed at the strange
city so revealed.

"I hope it ain't no mirage," he murmured, with vague discontent.

"We'll soon know what we've struck," cried Jack. "Here's a horseman
coming out to meet us."

"I thought I knew every bit o' this country," grumbled Mackay, "but
this certainly beats me, though somehow everything looks vera like a
place I prospected before. Anyhow, we'll soon see. Hallo!" he called
out, as the horseman drew rein in front of him and stared at the
travel-worn company in curious amazement. "Hallo! you bold, bad bushman;
what township is this?"

The man replied only with a gaze of more intense amazement than before,
until he was sternly brought to his bearings by the now irate
questioner.

"Say, mate," he protested weakly, "don't bounce a man so sudden. You all
look like Rip Van Winkles, you does, only worse. But you must be
strangers in these parts if you don't know Wentworth City. Why, it's the
biggest min----"

"What!"

The cry came like a roar from the lips of the nine men at once, and the
startled individual on the horse jerked back in alarm; but becoming
satisfied that his interrogators really desired information, he
proceeded to give it to them.

"Wentworth City, mates, ain't very old, but it has squatted here to
stay. It boomed up like a shot after the diskivery o' a process for
treating the refractory ores in the district. There's simply no end o'
the stuff, an' we expect to get a railway along shortly."

"How did it get its name?" inquired Mackay, calmly.

"Well, I has only been a couple o' weeks here myself, an' don't know
exactly how it happened; but every one will tell you that it is called
after the diskiverer o' the process which sent it booming. A young chap,
I believe he was, an' he went out exploring afterwards. But it's mighty
funny you doesn't know that much. Say, you must have come in from out
back?"

Mackay nodded briefly. "You've struck it," said he; "but now tell me if
you know a man called Nuggety Dick, and where can we find him?"

"Nuggety Dick?" echoed the horseman. "Why, you won't have any trouble
finding him. He's the mayor, he is. Go along the main street right in
front o' you--it is called Mackay Street--an' turn down Golden Promise
Drive on your right, an'--but I'd better go in front an' show you----"

"Yes, you'd better," murmured Mackay, feebly; then he reached out and
clasped Bob's hand.


"And so you all mean to have a trip to the old country, boys?" said
Nuggety Dick.

It was about an hour later, and the wanderers were seated in the mayor's
dining-room doing ample justice to the generous fare provided by that
hospitable individual, whose pleasure at meeting his old friends again
had been almost boyish in its glad exuberance.

"It's over ten years since I left the dear old land, Dick," answered
Bentley, "and now I should like to see it again. I wanted to persuade
every one to come, but I found they didn't need any persuading. All but
Bill seemed to have taken it as a foregone conclusion that they were to
have a run home as a reward for their labours."

"An' I would go quick enough, boys," said Emu Bill, quietly, "but I
reckon I'd peg out if I lost sight o' the Southern Cross. I ain't no
traveller, boys; I is only a simple bushman, an' somehow the grim old
desert grips me tight."

"I reckon I'll be able to tell you all about it when I get back, Bill,"
said the Shadow. "I is goin' with Jack to see the sights, an' we'll have
a rare good time----"

"I hope you've made up your mind to behave yoursel'?" interjected
Mackay, severely.

"Surely, boss, you can trust me. I won't even squelch a policeman unless
he looks at me cross-eyed. I'll be gentle as a little lamb, I will, an'
I won't round up no horses nor camels nor nothin'."

"Well, I hope it's only a trip you're goin' to take, boys, an' that
you'll all come back an' look me up in a month or so," said Nuggety
Dick, earnestly.

They remained talking in this strain for some time; then Mackay suddenly
inquired after his old enemy, Macguire.

"I don't bear the man any ill will," said he. "I'm just sort o' curious
to know if he rose wi' the fortunes o' Wentworth City; that name must
have stuck in his throat----"

"Why, hasn't you heard?" exclaimed Dick; "but, of course, you couldn't
know. Macguire cleared out 'bout two days after you, an' every one
fancied he meant to follow you up, because he thought you were goin' to
some new strike. He had his old crowd wi' him, an' a black tracker. He
has never come back yet. I reckon he must have gone under."

"Poor beggar!" murmured Bob. "I hope he manages to come out all right,
but----" He shook his head doubtfully.

"If by any chance he does hit our old trail into the Never Never, he'll
be mighty sorry for it afterwards," spoke Mackay, grimly, with visions
of vengeful savages before his eyes.

That night Bob came into Mackay's room at the hotel where they were all
staying.

"I wanted to see you alone," he said simply, "so that I might tell you
how truly I have appreciated your great kindnesses. I know now who it
was that sent that letter to my mother, you dear old humbug."

Mackay smiled. "My reward is more than I ever dreamed, my lad. You
yourself have given me much by your friendship. I haven't been
disappointed in you, Bob, an' I hope our partnership will no' finish
here."

"I'll be with you every time," cried Bob, heartily.

"I don't know what it is, but you can count on me," came a well-known
voice beyond the thin wooden partition, and immediately afterwards Jack
burst into the room. "I thought I heard about another threatened
expedition," he said eagerly, "and I wanted to sign my name to it right
away."

"I have an idea," ventured Mackay, gazing at the boy with shrewd,
twinkling eyes--"I have an idea, Jack, that when you get home you'll
find a wonderfu' magnetic influence there to restrain your wandering
nature. But all the same, I shouldna wonder but you'll be allowed to
mak' just another journey in my good company, for Bob has promised to
say a word or two in my favour, so that I won't be judged altogether as
an uncouth savage from the Never Never----"

"Is this a corroborree you're holding, Jim?" said Bentley, suddenly
entering the doorway.

"No, Dick, nothing so vera desperate; we were sort o' considerin' a
future expedition, that's a'."

"Already?" laughed Bentley. "Why, man, haven't you knocked around this
little planet enough to last you a lifetime?"

"I am afraid there is no such thing as contentment in the world," said
Bob, gravely. "We have sought fortune, and we have found it----"

"Ay, an' we found more than fortune, Bob," added Mackay, gazing at his
old leader affectionately. "The gold and gems are welcome enough, but
the lives o' my comrades are dearer to me than a'."

Bentley laid a gentle hand on Mackay's shoulder, and his voice was full
as he spoke.

"Yes, my lads," he said, "you will find true happiness, not in riches
nor in the fulfilment of worldly ambition, for our satisfaction is ever
in the striving after rather than in the attainment of our desires; but
it will come to you in the realization of an unerring truth: greater by
far than gold or gems is the love of our fellow-men."





End of Project Gutenberg's The Lost Explorers, by Alexander MacDonald

*** 