Part 33 (2/2)
”Mr Bray,” he said huskily, ”I am dead beat. You must take my place; but while power is left me to lift my gun, no one shall pa.s.s here!”
Bray leaped to Katie's side in an instant; but she held out her hands to keep him at bay. Murray pressed the poor girl hard to leave him.
”Wahika would protect you,” he said earnestly; ”and after a while I could follow.”
”Would you leave _me_?” she whispered.
Murray did not respond; and they waited, listening to the distant shouts--now nearer, and echoing, as if close at hand, then growing more and more faint, when the hearts of the pursued would rise; but only for their spirits to be again damped; for once more it was evident that the enemy were nearing.
It was an agonising time as they sat there, feeling, as it were, that Death, with black and outspread wings, was swooping here and there--now nearer, so that they could almost feel the dull flap of his wings; now farther away. Murray implored his companion to escape.
The answer was ever the same:
”No;” and the question repeated, ”Would he go?”--a question that he could not answer. And once more they relapsed into silence, save when the savage mattered a few words, or stole gently down a little way towards the mouth of the gully.
Once Wahika was gone for so long a time, that Katie glanced uneasily at Bray, who followed the savage down, returned, followed him again, and again returned, to stand thoughtfully listening; while Edward Murray seemed to read his thoughts respecting his helplessness, and the little difficulty he would have in ridding himself of a rival.
Could he but tear Katie away, and flee with her higher up the gully, the convicts, upon reaching the spot where they now were, would find the wounded and half-helpless man; and once there were no Edward Murray, Katie might relent--that was, if they escaped.
The young man sighed to himself as he pretty correctly rendered the thoughts of Anthony Bray; and he could not help feeling that he would rather see her free and the wife of Bray, than that she should again fall into the hands of their merciless enemies.
Twice over some movement on the part of Bray made the poor girl cling closer to Murray--more in the character of protector than protected; for a terrible fear came over her that Bray would slay the almost helpless foe to his desires, and then compel her to follow him; and she told herself that she would die first.
”Why does he not return?” she muttered, as she tried to pierce the obscurity below, in her efforts to catch sight of the savage. But fully an hour pa.s.sed, during which time they could still hear the occasional shout or response of the convicts, as they vainly sought the fugitives.
The more eagerly, too, that the freedom from attack had taught them the weakness of the rescuing party.
Suddenly Bray started, and raised his piece; for a figure was seen to rise from some bushes just below them. But a second glance told him that it was Wahika, who had been watching at the mouth of the golly.
”Morning soon--then find,” he said curtly. ”Now try get up higher.”
Drinking deeply of the limpid water near at hand, Murray rose to his feet, and, a.s.sisted by the others, he managed to scale the rocky barrier. The darkness was intense; but cautiously leading, the savage pressed back the branches, removed heavy stones, and pioneered the way, until he stopped short almost in a cavern, so shut in was the gorge; and then, helping Katie to a place where the trickling water did not reach, he whispered them to sit and rest, setting them the example himself, but without giving any explanation.
As the day approached, for a time the darkness seemed to increase; and they sat on, with strained ears, listening for the signs that should tell of pursuit. Twice only a faint cry came echoing up the chasm; otherwise all was silent.
Murray, as he lay on the stones, was filled with despair, as he thought of his weakness, and the distrust existing in their little camp; and as he tried in vain to look a.s.suringly at Katie, he more than once asked himself how it would end.
STORY THREE, CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
WAHIKA'S STRONGHOLD.
The reason for Wahika's last halt was plainly enough marked now that day had dawned. They were in a _cul-de-sac_--a natural fortress, which it must now be their aim to defend against attack. a.s.sault could come but from below, along the narrow winding way of the bed of the stream, up which their a.s.sailants, should they trace the little party, would have to climb slowly and arduously, exposed to their fire; and would their ammunition but hold out, Murray felt that those would indeed be daring foes who would force their way up, step by step, along the narrow path.
Could Bray have been trusted, Murray would have felt comparatively safe; but he could not avoid recalling the night of the fire, the cruel blow so treacherously dealt; and it was but rarely that the eyes of the young men met.
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