Midnight Webs

Story 3-Chapter XV.

Seeking Aid

Slowly up the sheep-track toiled the minister’s pony with its sad burden.

Seeing how painful was any attempt at consolation to the stricken woman, Mr Meadows dropped behind, thoughtfully gazing around from time to time, and whenever from a turn of the road there was a view of the rifled hut, pausing to take a long and sorrowful look at the ruins of the once happy home. But not once did he draw the attention of Mrs Lee to the scene.

How he thought of the quiet Eden-like aspect of the place as he had descended that toilsome way; the picturesque house, with its sheep and cattle dotted about; but now, though the scene was the same, and a clump of trees often hid from view the ruined house, yet how changed all seemed to his weary gaze!

Catching the pony’s bridle, when he had regained his place by its side, he began to try and hurry its pace, but without effect. Making, therefore, a virtue of necessity, they trudged slowly on until, with a sigh of relief, the ravine which led over the summit was reached, the view of Golden Gap shut out, and the next valley beginning to open before them.

What should he do? Go from station to station, telling the terrible news, and summoning the settlers to take arms for the purpose of crushing an enemy that might assault each farm in turn, or hurry on to the settlement at Kaitaka Bay, and there spread the alarm?

His reason told him that this latter would be the slower process, while if he trusted to the settlers in these far-off regions, the news would set them aflame, and they would muster readily. There would be no cumbrous arrangements for the expedition, but each man would seize his piece and mount horse, ready to join the little levy, and help to drive the invader from the neighbourhood of his home – the home which each had won for himself from the wilderness, and which was now in danger from these marauders.

He halted for a while by the side of one of the many streams, pressing upon his companion food and rest beneath the shady foliage, and watched her in the hope that sleep would visit the weeping woman – a short halt being absolutely necessary, on account of the ruggedness of their path, the excessive heat in the ravines, and the distance they had to travel.

Seeing, however, that Mrs Lee’s thoughts were wholly upon bringing rescue to her child, they were soon again upon their way, and before many hours were over, receiving the hearty welcome of a bluff settler, who with his wife and child stood at his door to receive the travellers.

“Glad to see you, Mrs Lee,” he exclaimed. “And where’s Martin? Parson Meadows, too! But what’s wrong? Why, you’ve got a cut on the head there, and – what does it all mean?”

Mr Meadows led him aside, wondering, as he saw Mrs Lee throwing herself sobbing into his wife’s arms. The business was soon explained, and the settler’s hearty English face grew stern and overcast.

“Heaven preserve us!” he muttered. “Poor Martin Lee! and it might have been here first! But are you in earnest, parson? Convicts? – landed? What should they come here for?”

“Spoil! – plunder! – desolation!” replied Mr Meadows.

The settler drew his guest into the house, forced him into a chair, and then dashed out of the room, shouting to a couple of his men. Ten minutes after, two stout well-mounted fellows galloped off in different directions.

“Mr Meadows,” said the settler, returning to where he had left his visitor, “I couldn’t go myself and leave them, or I’d have been one of those to gallop off; but the news will spread fast, and by morning we shall have a gathering here, I hope, that shall crush out these blood-thirsty locusts. Don’t think me unneighbourly that I did not go myself.”

“A man’s first worldly duty is to his wife and children, friend Lawler,” said Mr Meadows. “I blame you not, for we may perchance even yet have to fight for them before help comes.”

“Heaven forbid!” exclaimed the settler; but he took down with nervousness fowling-piece and rifle, and began to wipe and oil them ready for service.

“I’d almost ask you to help in a time of need like this,” he continued, “but for your cloth.”

“Help, friend Lawler! Yes, I’ll help; for I have already turned man of war in defence of the Moa’s Nest, and am afraid that I did some mischief amongst these men you call locusts; but they deserved it all, I fear.”

“Fear, parson!” exclaimed the other. “I would that you had had the scoundrels in a row, so that one bullet would have killed the lot! It would have been the best message of peace you ever sent through the district.”

“But had I not better ride in some other direction to summon help? If you could lend me another horse, I would gladly go: Joey, my pony, is slow, and not suited to the work.”

The settler mused for a few moments.

“You might ride to Black Rock!” he returned. “It will be a dark journey, and a long one; but the Allens would come to a man, and all stanch fellows, who can use a rifle.”

“Put on the saddle, and give me a morsel of bread; for no time should be lost. You will be kind to our poor afflicted sister.”

“Kind!” was the reply, in such a tone that the clergyman smiled gently, and pressed the rough hand extended to him.

Half-an-hour after, he was in the saddle and galloping in the direction of Black Rock.

He was no mean horseman, and mile after mile was left behind, till the darkness and the increasing difficulties of the road compelled him to go more slowly – at a rate, indeed, that but ill accorded with the impatience of his spirit, now that he was in some degree rested and refreshed. For, during the early part of his journey from the Moa’s Nest, he had suffered from a strange feeling of oppression, due to his late sufferings; but this was fast wearing off. And now, troubled in mind about the fate of those he sought to save, he once more pushed on, till the broken ground again compelled him to draw rein.

Long residence, and occasional visits from station to station, had made him pretty familiar with the roads; and as the horse picked its way along the stony part they were passing, he began to calculate how many men could be mustered; how long it would be before help could be afforded; and whether that help would be in time.

He pressed his horse forward as these last thoughts came, until he was again progressing at a long swinging gallop. He had been some three or four times to Black Rock, but not by this road, which was not familiar to him; but, keeping to the track, he pressed on till it seemed to end in a stony wilderness, when he once more had to draw rein; for the rugged path required careful riding. Here the track seemed almost lost; but just in front two valleys opened out, and in his directions his host had told him to take the left – no, the right – no, the left. Was it to the left? His head must be weak and confused, he told himself; for the settler had explained exactly and carefully the route he should follow.

He grew excited as he recalled the importance of his making speed, and at last drew up, pained and troubled. He essayed to go a little way along the valley to the right, but in a doubtful fashion; and, drawing rein at the end of a mile, he rode hastily back, feeling assured that he was wrong; and on reaching the headland that separated the valleys, he urged his steed onward, peering eagerly in advance the while, in search of some tokens of civilised man.

He was angry with himself for the mistake he had made – wasting minutes that might prove to have been of inestimable value; but he felt that he must soon reach the settlement now, since it was situated in the bottom of the valley, and could not be missed even by a traveller by night.

On past long park-like sweeps of rich land, varied by portions where the valley closed in till huge nestling crags, crowned with glorious vegetation, made darker the way he traversed, and seemed threatening to topple over upon the traveller; but still no signs of civilisation: no shepherd’s hut, no folding hurdles, no cattle – all solitary and grand. Twice the idea occurred to him that he must, after all, be wrong; but he rejected or crushed down the thought, and hurried his horse along; for it had begun to show signs of fatigue.

Then Mr Meadows allowed the reins to fall upon the poor beast’s neck, while he tried to think out the best course to pursue.

But little reflection sufficed to make him understand his position – he had been mistaken in the route he was to have pursued. He sighed heavily as he acknowledged his failing; for it was but too true. With Katie Lee in the hands of the convicts, and that young man awaiting the succour he was to bring, he had wandered from the right path, and travelled miles upon miles out of his way.

Story 3-Chapter XVI.

Collecting the Levy

John Lawler barricaded his place as strongly as he could for the night; and then, with loaded gun and rifle by his side, he awaited the return of the messengers. He felt that there was not much cause for fear; but he determined to watch and wait.

Soon after reaching the hospitable place, Mrs Lee had sunk back in her chair, faint and exhausted.

It was anxious work for the master of the house, watching alone, with the knowledge that a terrible danger might at any time come upon his home. As the darkness came on, sounds, heretofore passed unnoticed, seemed to have an ominous import. Each time a dog barked the watcher started, and tried to pierce the distant gloom, seeing in every tree an enemy, and a lurker behind every bush.

After a while, watching in the silence, he started; for his wife had stolen to his side, begging to be allowed to stay with him, since Mrs Lee slept heavily, and she feared to be alone.

John Lawler tried to persuade her to go; but not energetically. And then the couple watched on, shivering at every sound, until there came, from a distance, the tramp of a horse, at a slow weary pace; and at last one of the settler’s own beasts made its way into the yard, and then into the familiar stable by the side.

Lawler went out, to find that the animal was saddled and bridled; but on leading it into the yard, he found that it halted on one of its forelegs.

“Must have fallen lame,” he muttered; “and Sam has gone on, thinking the poor brute would find its way back.”

Another hour’s watching, and then came again the slow pacing of a horse; but this time there was a man leading it; and upon his coming up, Lawler heard that the horse had stumbled in the dark, fallen, and thrown his rider heavily, the poor fellow having been hardly able to make his way back to the station.

Then came more watching, hour after hour, till daylight began to chase away the dim shadows of night.

John Lawler’s spirits rose as the sun sent its warm rays once more over the brightened earth; but he shuddered as he thought that perhaps that night the home that he had been years in winning from the wilderness might become a blackened ruin.

Hour after hour passed but no gathering party of neighbours clustered round; and though Lawler climbed from time to time the hill behind his house, there was no sign of Sam.

After all these hours, surely, he thought, some neighbours might have come down to his help. Supposing that his place had been attacked, it would have been by this time a heap of blood-stained ashes. His brow knit as he watched, here for enemies, there for friends, with none to meet his eye, and the lines on his brow told the inquietude of his mind. At last, maddened with anxiety, he summoned his wife, had the two lamed beasts and Mr Meadow’s pony brought out, and prepared to mount the two women, and flee farther inland, to where there were friends.

“I’d stop and fight to the last gasp for my bit of property, Nell,” said Lawler to his wife, “if it wasn’t for you and the child.”

“No, no; let’s go,” she replied, as if fearing that he might stay.

The few arrangements being made, the little caravan had prepared to start, when a cheery shout from the men made Lawler shade his eyes, and his heart leapt up as he saw two mounted men, each carrying a gun, come cantering up.

“Hallo!” exclaimed one. “Just off out – pilgrimage to Egypt, eh? And Mrs Lee, too! How are you all? Bad job, though; for we wanted a rest and feed for the horses. S’pose we can have that all the same?”

John Lawler laid his hand upon the saddle of the speaker, and looking wonderingly in his face, he said:

“What! didn’t the news reach you last night?”

“News?” echoed the other.

Lawler drew him down, and whispered in his ear, so that the drooping woman upon the horse should not hear again of the horrors that had devastated her home.

“Good God!” exclaimed the new-comer. “But have you sent out for help?”

“Yes,” said Lawler; “three messengers. One miscarried; and I’ve had no news yet of the others.”

A short conference was held as the new-comers, with darkened brows, learned more fully the state of affairs, and discussed it with John Lawler – earnestly, too, since each had a stake in the district, and knew full well that his might be the next turn to suffer as had suffered the family of Martin Lee.

Five minutes after, Lawler’s wife was clinging to him, begging that, for the child’s sake, he would accompany her to a place of safety; but although torn to the heart, the settler held firm. In a short consultation, it had been decided to let the women proceed, accompanied by Lawler’s crippled man, while the three remained to garrison the little farm, and cover the retreat of the fugitives, agreeing that, if hard pressed, they could but follow them.

“We must stay and help one another,” said Lawler gloomily. “You attend to poor Lee’s wife; we’ll see if we cannot save his child.”

“But could not he stay?” said his wife piteously, as she pointed to the man.

“Would you have your husband turn coward, Nell?” Lawler said gently. “Should we not say that man was contemptible who kept back from us in time of need? Be a woman! There will be help soon; and it would never do now for neighbours to come at my asking, and find me gone. Half an hour ago it was different, and there was good excuse; now there is none.”

Mrs Lawler uttered no complaint; only one sob rose from her breast as she hung on her husband’s neck; and then, with the man leading the horses, the party passed slowly out of sight.

“Heaven be praised!” said one of the new-comers. “One seems free to act now.”

After a little consideration, it was determined that nothing better could be done than for one of the party in turn to act as scout, and watch the ravine leading towards the Gap, the only way by which danger could approach; while the others patiently waited the succour that was expected.

Story 3-Chapter XVII.

The Start

Hour after hour the little rescuing party waited for further assistance; for sooner or later they well knew that there would be a strong gathering; but night was fast approaching before two horsemen were seen; and of these one, Mr Meadows, had to be lifted from his horse, and then supported into the house.

“Better soon, friends all,” he said feebly. “I’ve been hard tried lately.” And then he sank into a chair, and would have fainted, but for some brandy. “I’ve proved a sorry messenger, friend Lawler,” he said after a pause. “You see, I was a good deal knocked about at the Nest, and I took the wrong track, and was lost; and, but for my horse, I fear there would have been no help through me. I was confused and weak, and not myself; but don’t be hard upon me.”

“I came on with him directly,” said the fresh arrival; “and I’ve sent round in all directions; but it will be some hours before more help can come.”

But still this was a reinforcement; for the settler was well armed, and loaded with ammunition; while, just as it grew dark, there came the sharp “thud, thud” of horses’ hoofs, and Lawler’s first messenger hastily came up with three neighbours, armed, and eager to assist.

“The mare fell lame,” said the man, “before we’d gone three miles; so I turned her loose, and tramped it.”

“And I was cattle-driving,” said one. “And I at the sheep-station,” said another. While the third had been ill in bed; but forgot his pains when the dire news was brought.

Again there was a council of war; and it was decided that nothing better could be done than to wait for daylight and farther reinforcements.

“Don’t you think so, Lawler?” said one of his friends, noticing that the settler looked gloomy and discontented.

“Yes, I think so,” he said. “It’s quite right – quite right; but I could not help thinking of those poor creatures waiting for our help, and wondering, hour after hour, why no aid comes. But we have done our best, neighbours, and I must agree that it would be folly to go on now in the dark, and weak-handed; for I suppose they would still outnumber us, according to Mr Meadows’s account.”

“It’s giving them a few more hours to live,” said one of the last arrivals grimly; “for I’m afraid they will not meet with much mercy.”

“Nor give much,” said another. And then he made a motion to the rest to preserve silence; for Mr Meadows was listening, half shuddering, to the remarks made.

“What do you advise, parson?” said one, who had not yet spoken. “You know most about this sad business. Should we go or stay?”

“Friend Laing,” said Mr Meadows feebly, “I would that you had not asked me that question. With the thoughts of that poor lamb in the clutches of those ravening wolves, my heart says, Go – go at once, and strike to save her. But then reason saith, Would you send these men – fathers of children, dear husbands of loving and anxious wives – to encounter useless peril, and come to ruin and death, for want of a little care? But I think this: the miles are long between this and the Moa’s Nest. Suppose that we proceeded with caution during the dark cool hours, so as to be ready to pursue the task at daybreak? One of your number could stay here, ready to bring on the rest of our friends when they arrive; while, without proceeding to attack, we might draw off the attention of the convicts, as well as succour Edward Murray and the brave savage, who must be faint and weary long ere this – if they still live,” he muttered to himself.

The advice was received with general tokens of satisfaction; but when it came to the question who should stay behind, no man displayed his willingness to undertake that tame part of the duty. One suggested that Mr Meadows would be unable to accompany them; but he did not know the stanch spirit of the old man, who sturdily declared his intention of following.

“This food and rest were all I required,” he said; “and I shall be no hindrance to you. My pony will bear me; and if I should be left behind for a while, I daresay I can overtake you.”

Seeing his determination, lots were drawn as to who should stay; for there was a certain feeling of respect shown by all towards their common friend.

The preparations were soon made, each man carrying a supply of provisions; and then they filed cautiously along the track, keeping ever on the alert, for each man knew that at any time a volley from behind some clump of trees or rocks far overhead, might perhaps empty half the saddles of the little party.

Story 3-Chapter XVIII.

The Avengers’ Way

Daylight found them standing, dark of face, around the barely cold ashes of the Moa’s Nest; and the stern determination of the party might have been read in their compressed lips and fierce looks, as more than one man mentally registered an oath of the stern vengeance he would take for this cruel desolation of a peaceful home.

A short interval of rest and refreshment, and the horses were stabled in one of the sheds yet standing; arms were examined, and the party began to ascend the Gap, slowly and cautiously, for they knew that unless the convicts had made their way round by the sea, they must be somewhere higher up, amongst these natural fortresses.

It was a very slow rate at which they progressed, for they anxiously searched for and examined every trace left by the convicts, though these were comparatively few, Wahika having previously picked up and hidden the greater part as he followed the ruffianly crew.

But soon these tokens disappeared, and they pressed on higher and higher, watching eagerly for farther signs of their enemy.

Once the foremost man halted, holding up his hand as a sign to those who followed, for there was the distant sound as of a gun; but it reached their ears in a strange, muffled way, as if discharged on the other side of the mountains; and another, which followed soon after, was even less distinct.

“They must be farther up, round the bend,” said one; and on they proceeded, taking advantage of every inequality for concealment. Every man’s rifle was ready to reply to the shot which was expected at any instant; but on they still went, without encountering a foe.

Hour after hour had passed; and at length, heated and wearied, a halt was called by the side of a rapid, babbling stream. Provisions were brought out, and then, for the first time, it was seen that one of the party was missing.

“Where’s the parson?” exclaimed the one who first made the discovery; when, upon comparing notes, it was found that he had not been noticed by any one for some hours.

“Poor old fellow, he could not keep up,” said Lawler. “We shall find him under a tree, resting, when we go back. He was not without food, fortunately, for I saw that he had it, or he would have gone without.”

“I hope no mischief will befall him,” said another; and then they fell to consulting, in cautious tones, as to the next best proceeding; whether to press on farther, or to retrace their steps, and examine some of the ravines, so as to join the strength they hoped by that time to meet approaching from the lower part of the Gap, while, at the same time, they would pick up Mr Meadows.

“I should be for going on,” said Lawler, “only that I think the last plan is the better; for I can’t help thinking they have never come up here. Let’s go back: we’re losing time.”

Following out his suggestion, the men rose, and began, with the same precautions, to retrace their steps, by this time spreading out in a more extended line; while, about the same time, a party of a dozen friends commenced the ascent of the Gap, following the plainly-marked track left by the first detachment.

Story 3-Chapter XIX.

Mr Meadows’s Weakness

Mr Meadows struggled on, hour after hour, with his companions, only enabled to keep up with them by their exceedingly slow progress; for, from time to time, he would sit for a few minutes while they passed on for some little distance, and then, following the track, he would overtake them at their slow, watchful pace.

He pressed on; sometimes tottering, sometimes resting so long that he had to strive hard to reach the last man. The heat seemed to overcome him; and at last, seating himself by the bright stream, upon whose banks he was, he let five, ten, twenty minutes, an hour slip away, heedless of all save the exhaustion that had enervated him.

Gradually a delicious sleep stole upon him, and then for a while all was blank.

But at length the weary man awoke, and started in pursuit of his companions, reproaching himself for his cruelty in sleeping at an hour like this; though, at the time, his forward progress was but a weary totter from tree to tree, against whose trunks he was often glad to lean his hands.

“It is of no use,” he groaned. “I’m worn out; and until Nature has done her part of restoration, I am helpless as a child.”

He sat down, and rested again, and then rose; for the distant report of a gun fell upon his ear; repeated, too, once or twice; and turning from his companions’ track, he faced towards that side of the Gap from amidst whose craggy fastnesses the sound seemed to proceed.