As Yacka stood on the height above them, his black figure seemed to grow and expand until he looked a giant in stature. His rage was terrible, and his whole frame shook with wrath. Shock followed quickly upon shock, but Yacka maintained his foothold, despite the violent concussions that rocked the cave.
A huge piece of rock crashed down at Edgar’s feet, the broken portions flying in all directions. They at once looked round for some place to hide in, and some protection from the falling stones. Crawling along on their hands and knees, they crept under a portion of the slab upon which the white figure had rested, and which had fallen upon two large rocks that upheld it. Under this they had a safe shelter, providing the ground held firm. Above the roar and din of falling rocks they could now hear the peals of thunder, which sounded like salvos of artillery. A crack in the roof of the cavern admitted the lightning, which darted in and out incessantly.
From where they were hidden they could see Yacka, who still stood a solitary black figure amidst this chaos. The black was lost to all sense of danger, even to the nature of the surroundings. One thought alone absorbed him—the sudden vanishing of the white figure of Enooma. He peered into the depths below him, but could see nothing; he waved his hands wildly, and uttered loud cries.
Watching him intently, Edgar and Will were afraid every moment he would jump into the fissure, or be hurled into it by a sudden shock. After a few moments’ pause in this battle of the forces of Nature, another shock was felt. They heard the same dull, rumbling sound, and felt the vibration of the earth beneath them. The movement increased in force, until they were rocked to and fro, and had to cling to the edge of the slab for support. Another rush of fallen rocks and stones took place, and after a terrific and prolonged peal of thunder a dead silence reigned. After the deafening noise the sudden silence could almost be felt; the change was marvellous.
‘It is all over,’ said Edgar. ‘Thank God, we are alive!’
They crept out of their hiding-place and looked for Yacka, but he was nowhere to be seen. Hastily they scrambled on to the fallen slabs, and looked down into the dark hole where the figure of Enooma had fallen.
‘Yacka, Yacka!’ shouted Edgar.
There was no answer, except a loud echo of his voice. Again Edgar shouted, and this time there was a faint response.
‘He has fallen down,’ said Will. ‘How are we to reach him? He may be fatally injured.’
They looked round for some means of descending in safety, and after peering down the hole for some time Edgar said:
‘There is a light at the bottom, and now I can see better; the rocks seem to be piled up in heaps. We may be able to descend by slipping from one to the other. It is our only chance, and we must try it.’
They prepared for their perilous descent; they had no rope, and nothing out of which a support of any kind could be made.
Edgar knelt down, and Will caught hold of one hand as he glided over the edge.
‘All right,’ said Edgar, ‘I have a foothold here.’
Will followed, and the same operation was repeated, and Edgar again found a firm footing lower down. He stood still, and helped Will to follow him. It was slow work, but by degrees they neared the bottom.
Edgar looked down from the ledge upon which he was standing, and saw Yacka lying near the foot of the rock.
‘Are you badly hurt?’ he called out.
‘Not much hurt,’ replied Yacka. ‘My leg pains, but is not broken.’
‘It is a big drop from here,’ said Edgar, ‘but it does not look a dangerous place to fall on. I’ll chance it.’
He let himself down to his full length, and then dropped.
‘It is quite safe,’ he shouted to Will.
Will followed, and they found they were on a bed of moss and ferns that had flourished in the darkness, and had been kept green by the dampness.
Yacka was not much hurt. He had slipped, and fallen a considerable distance, and his descent had been checked by a projection in the rock. From this he had gradually descended, much in the same way as Will and Edgar.
‘Where are we?’ said Edgar. ‘This cavern must have been in its present state a long time.’
‘It has,’ said Yacka. ‘This is the place I was to show you. The White Spirit of Enooma guarded the entrance. The place where she rested formed the opening. She fell down here, and is gone; Enooma will be seen no more. When her treasure is gone there will be no need for her to guard it. Her task is ended, and she will watch no more.’
‘If the figure fell on the moss and ferns it would not be much injured,’ said Edgar; ‘we will search for Enooma while you rest here.’
‘It is not good for Yacka to remain; he will search with you,’ said the black.
‘She must be near here,’ said Will. ‘See, there is the opening down which she fell.’
They searched in every direction, but could find no trace of the figure. Edgar felt they were treading on some soft substance like sand, and, stooping down, felt it with his hands. It was like powder, quite white and fine.
‘The figure must have crumbled away,’ said Edgar. ‘Look at this powder’; and he handed some to Will.
Yacka looked at it curiously, and said:
‘Enooma has gone; the White Spirit has left her cave, and has shown no sign.’
‘This is a sign,’ said Edgar. ‘Your white lady has crumbled to dust. The figure must have been one of Nature’s freaks, and having become decayed and rotten with age, has been ground to powder by the fall.’
‘I should like to know how the figure came where we found it,’ said Will.
‘It was placed there by the Enooma years and years ago,’ said Yacka. ‘It was a pure block of white stone then, and no figure on it. The White Spirit formed the figure, and Yacka is the son of Enooma.’
‘Was Enooma, your mother, a white woman?’ said Edgar.
‘I knew no mother,’ said Yacka. ‘She left me before I could speak. The tribe knew she was white, and her spirit lived in these caves. Now the spirit is gone, and the Enooma will seek a new country. It is good; we have lived here too long. We shall go north, and be near the sea; that will give strength to the Enooma, and make them strong big men.’
‘How are we to get out of this place,’ said Will.
‘Easy way out,’ said Yacka; ‘but hard way in.’
Edgar thought this strange, but waited to see what Yacka meant.
‘Come,’ said Yacka, limping along. ‘I will show you the riches of Enooma.’
He led them along a dark passage into another cave, and here the light streamed in from a cleft in the rock. Gold glittered in heaps on the floor. There were nuggets of gold almost solid, and some as large as a goose egg. They were scattered about in reckless profusion. There were diamonds of small size, uncut, and great rubies of pigeon-blood colour. It was a cave of riches, and Edgar and Will feasted their eyes on it in amazement. They held the rubies in their hands, and gloated over their wondrous colour. They handled the gold and felt its weight, and were bewildered with the nature of the discovery.
‘How did all this come here?’ said Edgar. ‘To whom does it belong?’
‘It is mine,’ said Yacka. ‘I am the son of Enooma, and the tribe collected it. None of them know its value. They do not wish for gold or stones. All they wish for is to live a savage life, and to have a country of their own. They cannot be taught what such things as these mean. Yacka has been in great cities and knows. He has seen the white man kill for love of gold; he has seen the women of the white men sell themselves for these,’ and he held up some rubies and diamonds. ‘It is better for the Enooma to remain as they are. Gold would make them fight amongst themselves, now they fight their enemies.’
‘You may be right,’ said Edgar. ‘All the same, I should like a few samples of your wealth, Yacka.’
‘Take what you will,’ said Yacka. ‘It is far to carry it. Do not take too much, or you will not reach Yanda again. Water is more precious than gold sometimes.’
‘May we return and take away more?’ asked Will.
‘If you can find the place,’ said the black; ‘but Yacka will show you no more.’
‘Then I am afraid we shall not have much chance,’ said Will. ‘It is a pity all this wealth should be wasted.’
‘Others may find it, and take their share,’ said Yacka. ‘It is not good for one man to have too much.’
‘We can carry enough away with us,’ said Edgar, ‘to give us a start in life, anyhow. Perhaps Yacka is right. It is not good for a man to have too much. Will you help us, Yacka?’
‘To carry gold for you?’ said the black.
‘Yes,’ said Edgar.
‘I will carry some, and stones for you, but I will not use any,’ Yacka said.
‘You’re a strange being,’ said Edgar; ‘but the black man lives not as the white man.’
‘No,’ said Yacka; ‘he does not slay his friend for gold.’
Edgar dropped the subject. Whatever the cruel, cowardly conduct of the blacks might be, he knew enough about the pursuit of wealth to refrain from arguing with Yacka.
‘The tribe will be waiting for us,’ said Yacka. ‘We must return.’
‘Perhaps the earthquake has frightened them away,’ said Will.
‘They would not feel it so much as we did, being underground,’ said Edgar.
‘It was no earthquake,’ said Yacka. ‘It was the White Spirit welcoming you.’
‘A strange welcome,’ said Edgar.
‘Had it been an earthquake you would have been killed,’ said Yacka. ‘I have seen what an earthquake does. It swallows up mountains and trees, and heaves up other mountains in their place. All the plains of Australia were formed by earthquakes, and the mountains were thrown up to make that part smooth.’
‘How long will it take us to return to the tribe?’ said Edgar.
‘Not long,’ replied Yacka. ‘We will go now. We can return for the gold.’
‘We had better take some now,’ said practical Will.
Edgar was nothing loath, and they filled what pockets they had left in their torn clothes with gold, rubies, and diamonds.
Yacka watched them and said:
‘I will return for more. You need not come again.’
‘You mean you do not wish us to return,’ said Edgar.
‘That is it,’ said Yacka. ‘I will return alone.’
To this they agreed, acknowledging that Yacka had the right to do as he pleased, as it was undoubtedly his find. They were not long in getting out of this strange labyrinth of caves and passages, and Edgar wondered why they had not come in this way. Before they reached the exit Yacka said they must be blindfolded. To this at first they protested, but as Yacka was firm, and they were in his power, they consented.
Yacka led Will by the hand, Edgar holding Will’s other hand. They tramped in this way for a considerable time, and then Yacka removed the covering from their eyes.
They were on the grassy plain once more, but the whole scene had been changed by the wondrous forces of Nature. Huge masses of rock were strewn about, and trees were felled and torn up by the roots. Where they had entered the mountains there was no other means of passing through. The blacks had retreated before the terrible storm, and were encamped a long way off. They could just see the camp fires in the distance. Several dead blacks lay around, evidently killed by falling rocks, but Yacka took very little notice of them. Death ended all for these men, and, being dead, Yacka thought no more of them.
When Edgar looked round to see where they had come out of the caves, there was no opening anywhere. Yacka smiled as he said:
‘You will never find the entrance. It is known only to me, and once I lost it and never found it again.’
‘Then that is the reason we went in the other way,’ said Edgar.
‘Yes,’ said Yacka. ‘Now I have the way out, I can find the way in again.’
They marched towards the camp, and the Enooma rushed to meet them, uttering loud cries of delight. They had never expected to see them return alive after such a terrific earthquake. These blacks were strange people. Terrified as they had recently been, they had in a very few hours forgotten their experiences. The sudden changes in this climate had made them familiar with the working of the forces of Nature, which are truly marvellous.
In the stillness of the night, as Edgar and Will sat side by side, they returned thanks for their merciful escape. It was an experience they would never forget, and now that it was over both felt untold gold would not tempt them to brave it again.
Before they were awake next morning Yacka, true to his promise, went to the cave and returned with some of the finest rubies and purest lumps of gold. He roused Edgar and Will, and showed them what he had done.
‘It is as much as we can carry,’ he said, and they agreed with him.
The gold was heavy, and they had a long tramp before them.
Without further delay they collected their treasure, and made it secure in a strong skin loin-cloth, which was fastened by dried strips of leather, so that none of the stones could fall out.
‘This is like putting all our eggs in one basket,’ said Edgar. ‘I think we had better carry the best of the rubies about us.’
This was done, and the bag again fastened securely.
The Enooma accompanied them, and left them about a couple of days’ journey from the ranges.
At this point Edgar and Will bade them farewell, and Yacka promised to return and travel with them further north. The black had explained to them all that had taken place in the caves, and they did not care to remain longer in that district.
Yacka led them safely through the MacDonnell Ranges, and they reached Alice Springs, where they had a hearty welcome.
‘We never expected to see you alive again,’ said Walter Hepburn. ‘You have been away close upon six months, and we thought you were gone for good. I hope you are satisfied with your experiences.’
‘We are,’ said Edgar. ‘We have seen many strange and wonderful sights.’
‘You must tell me about your adventures to-night,’ said Hepburn. ‘I have kept your horses safe, and they will be ready for the journey.’
It was a relief to Edgar and Will to obtain fresh clothes, for those they wore were almost in rags.
The night of their arrival they related to Walter Hepburn all that had befallen them, and he was amazed. He could hardly credit the account Edgar gave of the wealth found in the cave of Enooma; but when he saw the precious stones and gold spread out before him, he was completely overwhelmed.
‘This is pure gold,’ he said, as he handled a large lump of the precious metal. ‘And these rubies are exceedingly rich in colour, and worth a heap of money. We have found rubies in the creeks here, but nothing to be compared to these. Of course, you will return with a properly equipped expedition, and carry the bulk of it away?’
‘I am afraid that will be out of the question,’ said Edgar. ‘Yacka will not guide us there again, and I am sure we could not find the place.’
‘Yacka must be forced to act as guide,’ said Hepburn. ‘Such a treasure as you have discovered cannot be allowed to remain buried.’
‘I shall not be the one to use force against Yacka,’ said Edgar. ‘The black has acted honestly by us, and we must do the same by him.’
‘If you fellows do not have another try to find the place I shall,’ said Hepburn.
Edgar laughed as he said:
‘You are welcome to do so. For my part I have had enough of it, and am glad to have got back again with a whole skin.’
‘You must be careful not to let anyone know about here what you have with you. There are some desperate characters, and a mere hint as to the wealth you have, and your lives would not be safe,’ said Hepburn.
‘We have told no one but yourself,’ said Edgar; ‘and we know we can trust you. You are an old Redbank boy.’
After some persuasion Walter Hepburn agreed to accept a couple of fine rubies and a heavy nugget in return for the keep of the horses, and as a remembrance of their visit. As well as he was able Edgar described the country they had traversed and the appearance of the place where the caves were.
‘Even if you reach there safely,’ said Edgar, ‘you will not be able to find the entrance. We could see nothing of it, and even Yacka lost the run of it once.’
‘It is worth the risk,’ said Hepburn. ‘I wish I had gone with you. I am used to these wilds, and once I had been over the ground I am sure I could find my way back.’
They did not remain long at Alice Springs, as they were eager to return to Yanda and learn how their friends had got on during their absence.
The return journey passed in much the same way as their ride to Alice Springs from Yanda.
They had a plentiful supply of ammunition, which Walter Hepburn had given them, and consequently were not afraid to shoot when in need of provisions.
Edgar noticed Yacka was restless, and did not seem at his ease during their journey, and he questioned him as to the reason.
‘I have a fear we are being followed,’ said Yacka. ‘I have seen no one, but still I fear it. Did anyone know you had gold and stones at Alice Springs?’
‘Only Walter Hepburn,’ said Edgar. ‘We were careful not to tell anyone else.’
‘You showed him the stones?’ asked Yacka.
‘Yes,’ said Edgar; ‘we spread them out on the table in his house, but no one else was there.’
‘But there are windows,’ said Yacka, ‘and someone may have looked in. It was foolish.’
‘I think you are wrong about anyone following us,’ said Will. ‘They would have attacked us before now.’
Yacka explained that he had not slept at night since they left the Springs. He had watched and waited and heard strange sounds. He felt sure they were being followed, but at some distance.
‘You must have a sleep to-night, anyhow,’ said Edgar, ‘or you will knock up. We can keep watch in turns.’
Yacka assented, for he felt much in need of sleep.
They camped on a level patch of ground, where there was not much surrounding shelter, and where they felt secure against any surprise.
Worn out from want of sleep, Yacka stretched himself on the ground, and quickly fell into a deep slumber.
‘He’s dead tired,’ said Edgar. ‘I have never seen him drop off into such a sound sleep. He generally has an eye open, and his ears catch every sound.’
‘Are you going to take first watch?’ said Will.
‘If you like,’ said Edgar. ‘I will rouse you when I become drowsy.’
Will soon followed Yacka into the land of dreams, and Edgar, leaning his back against the trunk of a tree, watched them. The treasure was close to him, and the sight of it brought back to him the scenes they had witnessed. From these experiences his thoughts wandered to Wal Jessop and Eva, and he wondered how they had gone on during his absence. He was anxious to see them again, and when he reached Yanda meant to take a trip to Sydney as early as possible.
Then he thought of home, and his father and sister, and hoped to have letters from them at Yanda. They would be anxious to hear how his exploit had turned out, and what a glowing account he would give them! Lost in these pleasant reflections, he did not hear the stealthy tread of two men behind the tree.
These men kept well in the shadow of the trunk of the tree against which Edgar sat, all unconscious of their approach. They were desperate-looking fellows, dressed in bush fashion, and had evidently ridden after Edgar and his companions from Alice Springs. Cautiously they approached, avoiding the loose twigs on the ground, and halting to listen intently at every few yards. Each man had a revolver in his hand, and a knife in his belt.
The taller of the two motioned to the knife at his side, and pointed to Edgar. The other nodded, and drew out his formidable blade. He then crept, knife in hand, towards Edgar, and his companion made towards Will.
Edgar, who began to feel drowsy, rose to his feet and leaned on his shoulder against the tree, his back still to the man stealing up, knife in hand. Edgar little knew the peril he was in, and dreaded nothing.
Nearer and nearer drew the man with his murderous weapon. He was now close to the tree, and had his knife uplifted ready to strike.
Suddenly a laughing jackass, perched in the branches above Edgar’s head, gave his mocking laugh. The sound startled him, and he turned round; as he did so he saw the man, and the knife he had in his uplifted hand flashed in the faint moonlight.
He shouted, ‘Yacka! Yacka! Will! Will!’ and sprang backwards.
The man rushed upon him just as Will opened his eyes in a half-drowsy way, and dimly realized that a man was pointing his revolver at him.
‘Move, and I fire!’ said the man to Yacka, as he saw the black spring to his feet.
Yacka dared not move; he knew it would be instant death to Will.
Meanwhile Edgar grappled with his assailant, and a desperate struggle was going on.
The man covering Will called out to his mate and Edgar:
‘drop struggling, or I fire!’
Edgar glanced at him, and saw the danger Will was in.
‘Hands off!’ he said, and the man ceased to struggle with him.
Unfortunately, neither Edgar or Will had their revolvers handy, and their guns were against the trunk of the tree—the revolvers being luckily hidden from sight in the long rank grass.
‘We want that bag,’ said the tall man, still covering Will. ‘Let my mate get the bag and your guns, and then you can go.’
In a moment it flashed across Edgar that if the men took the bag and the guns there would still be the revolvers, and that gave them a chance before the thieves reached their horses. He was not, however, too eager, and said:
‘You are a cowardly pair to rob us like this.’
‘You are three to one,’ said the man with a grin. ‘Nothing very cowardly about that. Will you “ante up” the “boodle”?’
‘How do we know you will not fire on us? We shall be unarmed,’ said Edgar.
‘We want the plunder, not your lives,’ said the man. ‘Come, be quick. We have no time to waste.’
The man was evidently impatient, and Edgar thought: ‘Perhaps they are afraid of someone following them from the Springs.’ Aloud he said:
‘We agree. Take the bag and our guns and go.’
The man who had attacked Edgar picked up the bag and the two guns. It was an anxious moment for Edgar. The revolvers were lying near the tree, and the man might kick them as he went along. With a sigh of relief, Edgar saw the man had not discovered them. Yacka was on the alert, but saw no chance of making a move without injuring Will, and Edgar was in the same fix. The tall man ‘bailed’ them up until his companion returned with their horses.
Having fixed the bag firmly in front of the saddle the man mounted, placing the guns also in front of him. He then led the other horse up to the man covering Will, and levelled his revolver at him while his mate mounted.
Yacka stood at the other side of the horses, and for a brief moment the man covering Will could not see him, and the taller man was mounting with his back to Yacka. In an instant Yacka bounded between the man with the revolver and Will, and jerked the horse’s bridle, which caused the animal to suddenly back. The man fired, but the movement of the horse spoilt his aim and the shot did no harm.
Seeing how matters stood, Edgar ran for the revolvers, and reached them before the thieves could realize what had happened.
A desperate fight now took place. The mounted men, whose horses plunged at the sound of firing, aimed at Will and Edgar, and the former felt a sharp pain in his left arm.
Yacka still hung on to the horse’s bridle, and the man on it fired point-blank at him, the bullet grazing his head.
Edgar approached this man, and when close to him fired. The shot told, and the man’s right arm fell to his side, his revolver dropping on to the ground.
‘Winged!’ shouted Edgar. ‘Hold on, Yacka!’
But Yacka had let go of the horse and pulled the man out of the saddle. The horse, finding itself free, galloped off, with the bag still fast to the front of the saddle.
The other man, seeing how matters were going, and knowing the loose horse had the bag still fast to the saddle, turned tail and galloped after it.
‘The horses—the horses! Quick, Will!’ said Edgar. ‘We must be after them.’
Will brought up the horses, and they were quickly in the saddle.
‘You keep guard over this fellow, Yacka,’ said Edgar. ‘Don’t let him go.’
For answer Yacka smiled savagely, and gripped the man by the throat so hard that his eyes started from his head.
‘He’s in safe hands,’ said Edgar. ‘Come along, Will, or we shall lose our treasure after all.’
They rode away after the other man and the runaway horse as fast as their nags could carry them.
It proved an exciting chase they had commenced. The thief knew he need expect no mercy if caught, and rode desperately. He knew the country better than Edgar and Will, which gave him a decided advantage; moreover, he had a good horse, probably stolen, and knew how to ride.
‘He is gaining on us,’ said Edgar. ‘I am afraid we shall lose him. There is no chance of hitting either man or horse from this distance.’
Mile after mile was traversed, and still the chase went on. The riderless horse stuck close to his companion, but when he began to flag the man took hold of the bridle and urged him on. Edgar took no heed where they were going, nor did Will. They were too excited to take much notice of the country they passed through. At last the fugitive turned his horse to the left, and plunged into a much more difficult country to travel. The undergrowth became denser and tangled, and it was with difficulty the horses could be forced to go through it. It was not long before they lost sight of the man they were in pursuit of.
‘Where can he have got to?’ said Will. ‘He would never hide here with two of us after him.’
‘We must ride on,’ replied Edgar. ‘It is easy to miss a man and come across his track again in a very short time.’
They rode on at a slow pace, and presently came to a narrow opening in the scrub. Here they halted and found recent tracks of horses, so they determined to follow in this direction. The tracks led them in a roundabout way, and presently they came to the conclusion the man had doubled back.
‘He must be heading for our camp again,’ said Edgar. ‘Strange he should do this unless he fancies we are put off the scent, and he is riding back to rescue his mate.’
‘If that is his game,’ said Will, ‘we must follow him hard. He might shoot Yacka before we arrive.’
It was, however, difficult for them to find their way. They were not experienced bushmen, and had failed to notice certain signs by which they would know they were on the right track. They saw no signs of the man, nor could they now observe in which direction the horses had gone. To ride on and trust to chance was their only hope. It was quite light now, and this aided them. As time passed they became anxious, and wondered what would become of Yacka if they did not arrive on the scene in time, for they had not the least doubt now that their man was heading for the camp to rescue his mate.
‘This chase he has led us has been a blind,’ said Edgar. ‘If we had taken ordinary precautions we ought to have found out he was doubling back.’
‘Only a bushman would have found that out,’ said Will. ‘I do not see how we can blame ourselves.’
‘We have had enough experience the last few months to have found that out,’ said Edgar. ‘By Jove! there he is, I believe.’
There was a horseman in front of them, but they could not see the second horse. They rode on faster now, but did not gain much ground. A rise in the land hid the man from view, and soon after he disappeared they heard a shot. This made them ride all the faster, and they quickly reached the top of the rise, and had a good view of the plain beyond.
‘He fired that shot to warn his mate,’ said Will. ‘We cannot be far from the camp now.’
‘I’ll fire,’ said Edgar; ‘and if Yacka hears the two shots he will probably divine we are in pursuit.’
He fired a shot from his revolver as they rode on.
‘There’s the place we camped at,’ said Edgar, pointing to two or three tall trees: ‘but I see nothing of Yacka or the other men.’
They rode up to the place, and found the camp deserted. There was blood upon the ground and signs of a struggle, but they imagined this must have been caused by Yacka dragging the wounded man along. Edgar called out ‘Yacka!’ and gave a loud ‘cooee,’ and after waiting a few moments they heard a faint response. They rode in the direction of the sound, and, rounding a clump of trees on a mound, came upon a strange sight.
Stretched on the ground was one of the robbers, the man they supposed they had left with Yacka. This man had been strangled, and was dead. Near him sat Yacka with a strange expression on his face. When the black saw them he gave a faint moan, and pressed his hand to his side.
‘Good God! he’s shot!’ said Edgar, dismounting and running to the black. He found blood streaming from a deep wound in his side evidently inflicted with a knife. ‘How did this happen?’ asked Edgar, as he endeavoured to stanch the flow of blood with a neckerchief he had rapidly pulled off.
Yacka pointed to the dead man, and Will, who had come up, exclaimed:
‘This is not the fellow we left with Yacka. It is the man we have been chasing all this time.’
‘Where is the other man?’ asked Edgar, who could hardly believe his eyes.
‘I killed him,’ said Yacka faintly.
‘Where is he?’ asked Will.
Yacka pointed to some bushes, and Will went across and found the body of the man they had left with Yacka. This man had also been strangled.
They managed to stop the flow of blood from the deep wound in Yacka’s side, but it was some hours before he had sufficiently recovered strength to relate what had happened.
When Yacka heard the shot fired, he at once thought the man’s mate had doubled back to rescue him, and had given Edgar and Will the slip. He knew how easily it could be done by an old hand, and his surmise was confirmed by the expression on the man’s face when he heard the shot. In a moment Yacka had made up his mind how to act. He had no gun, for he found that all three had been taken, instead of only those belonging to Edgar and Will. He seized his prisoner by the throat, and strangled him. Then he propped the dead man up with his back to a tree, and tied him to it with one of the tethering ropes. He hid himself behind the tree and waited, and in a short time the other robber came on to the scene. When this man saw his mate bound to the tree, he dismounted and came towards him, evidently thinking Yacka had made him fast, that he had fallen asleep, and Yacka had gone away.
Yacka awaited his coming, crouching down behind the tree. No sooner did the man see his mate was dead than he realized that a trap had been set for him, and ran back to the horses. Yacka was quickly after him, and before the man could reach the horses had caught him up. Finding Yacka at such close quarters, the man drew his knife instead of his revolver, no doubt thinking it would be more effective. A desperate struggle ensued, which Yacka described graphically.
‘We rolled over and over,’ said Yacka. ‘I had no knife, and he was a powerful man. I caught him by the throat, and he lost the grip of his knife. I clung to him with both hands, and he managed to get his knife and stuck it in my side. I did not let go my hold. I became fainter and fainter, but clung to his throat. Then I fell across him, and when I came to my senses again, which could not have been long, he was dead. It was their lives or mine, and they were not fit to live.’
As they listened to Yacka’s story of this terrible struggle and awful end of the thieves, they wondered if many men would have had the courage to act as he had done.
‘The horses will not have gone far,’ said Yacka. ‘They were dead tired, I could see, when the man dismounted.’
While Will attended to Yacka, Edgar went in search of the two stray horses, and found them about a couple of miles away, quietly cropping the scanty herbage. He secured them without trouble, and was glad to see their precious treasure was safe, and also their guns.
They had to remain in this spot for a week before Yacka was fit to be removed, and during that time they buried the bodies of the robbers as well as they were able with the primitive means at hand.
Their progress was slow, because Yacka could not ride far, and had to be helped off one of the horses at different times to rest. It was lucky for them they had the two captured horses in addition to their own. Yacka guided them, and seemed to take a delight in hiding from them how far they were from Yanda.
‘Surely we must be somewhere near Yanda by this time,’ said Edgar. ‘I almost fancy I can recognise the country.’
‘You ought to,’ said Yacka, ‘for we are on Yanda Station now, and we shall reach the homestead to-night.’
They could not suppress their feelings, and gave a loud hurrah.
Yacka had spoken correctly, for towards sundown the familiar homestead came in sight.
Yacka wished them to gallop on and leave him, but this they declined to do, saying he had done so much for them, it was only making a small return to remain with him.
As they neared the homestead they noticed several figures moving about, evidently in an excited way, on the veranda.
‘There’s Ben Brody!’ said Edgar eagerly. ‘He has recognised us. What a time we shall have to-night!’
Ben Brody was standing leaning against the door-post when he saw something moving across the plain in front of him. He went inside for his glasses, and, after looking through them for several minutes, he gave a loud shout.
It was such an unusual thing for Ben Brody to shout, except when issuing orders, or expressing his feelings to some unfortunate new-chum, that the hands about the place fancied the homestead must have caught fire. Several of them rushed round to the front, and found Ben Brody executing a kind of war-dance on the veranda.
‘What’s up now?’ asked Will Henton. ‘Something stinging you?’
‘No, you fool,’ roared Brody. ‘Do you think I’m as tender as you? It’s them lads coming back!’
‘Not Foster and Brown?’ asked Will.
‘That’s just it, you bet,’ said Brody.
Off ran Will Henton, and in a few moments Harry Noke, Jim Lee, and two or three more came round.
‘Give me the glasses,’ said Noke.
‘No need for that,’ said Jim Lee. ‘I can spot ’em from here.’
‘We must go and meet them,’ said Will Henton.
‘Right you are,’ said Brody. ‘Boys, we’ll have a terrible night of it.’
They mounted their horses, and in less time than it takes to write it down were galloping towards the home-comers.
The scene was one to be remembered. They sprang from their horses, and pulled Edgar and Will out of their saddles, and shook them by the hands, cheered and hallooed until the plain rang with their hearty shouts. Yacka stood quietly looking on, and when they had almost wrung Edgar’s and Will’s hands off they tackled him.
‘Don’t handle Yacka as roughly as you have handled us,’ laughed Edgar; ‘he’s got a bad wound.’
Then came a string of questions as to how Yacka received his wound, and who had given it him. Such a rain of questions was showered at them that at last Ben Brody said:
‘Give them breathing-time, lads. We shall hear all about their adventures later on. We’re right glad to see you back again safe and sound.’
A general chorus of assent followed this remark.
‘Expect you have not come back loaded with wealth?’ said Will Henton.
‘Wait and see,’ said Edgar. ‘I rather fancy we have a surprise in store for you.’
‘Have you had a good time?’ said Ben Brody.
‘It has been a wonderful time, and we have seen many strange things, and gone through a good deal of hard work. I’m heartily glad to see Yanda again, but I would not have missed our experiences for the world.’
‘Same here,’ said Will Brown, ‘but I never wish to go through such a time again.’
Yacka rode quietly behind, a lonely black figure, the pain in his face showing how he still suffered. He was glad to see this hearty welcome, but it made him feel lonely. He had no friends such as these men at Yanda were. He was a wanderer, an outcast, a black, a despised native of the country these white men had taken from his people. But Yacka was, through all this, white enough at heart to know it was all for the best. His people could never become like these people, and the country in the hands of blacks, he knew, would still have been wild and desolate.
The hands at Yanda marvelled greatly at the tale Edgar told of their adventures, and they marvelled still more when the treasure they brought with them was shown.
‘And to think that black fellow knew all about it, and kept the secret so long,’ said Ben Brody. ‘I can hardly believe it is true. You must have travelled thousands of miles. All I can say is you deserve what you have got.’
After staying a few weeks at Yanda, where he received letters from home, and from Wal Jessop, Edgar decided to go to Sydney and see Eva again. Will Brown remained at Yanda, in order to gain more experience of station life.
When Edgar arrived in Sydney, he at once went to Watson’s Bay. Wal Jessop did not know Edgar had left Yanda. Eva had constantly inquired for Edgar during his absence, and been comforted by the assurance he would return to her.
Edgar walked up the steep path to the cottage, intending to give the inmates a surprise, but Eva, who was looking out of the window, recognised him, and gave a joyful cry that brought Mrs. Jessop to her. Together they rushed out to greet Edgar, and he soon had little Eva crowing delightedly in his arms, Mrs. Jessop looking on, her motherly face beaming with satisfaction.
‘How you have grown, Eva!’ said Edgar, holding her up in his arms to have a better look at her. ‘You have had a good home, and Mrs. Jessop has taken great care of you.’
Eva began to prattle in her pretty childish way, and asked Edgar numerous questions, some of which he found a difficulty in answering.
When Wal Jessop returned home and found Edgar installed in the cottage he was delighted. He had been longing to see him again, and to hear all about his adventures. These Edgar had to relate over and over again, and little Eva, too, was interested in hearing about Yacka and the blacks, and the White Spirit in the wonderful cave. When she saw the precious stones and gold Edgar brought with him, she clapped her hands with joy, and wanted to play with all the pretty things.
‘You’ll not be short of money for a time with such rubies as these to sell,’ said Wal Jessop, as he took some of the stones in his hand. ‘They are the finest I ever saw. You’ll get more for them in London than you will here.’
‘I shall keep the bulk of them,’ said Edgar; ‘but we must dispose of some of them, Wal, in order to keep things going.’
‘Captain Fife will be able to do that for you,’ said Wal. ‘He knows the best market for such things. What a wonderful chap that black must be! There are not many like him here.’
‘You will see him before long,’ said Edgar. ‘He has promised to come to Sydney when his wound has quite healed.’
‘A knife-thrust like that will take some time to get well,’ said Wal. ‘I wonder if he will ever take you back again to find more of the treasure?’
‘I shall not go,’ said Edgar; ‘but I have no doubt there will be search made for it, even if Yacka declines to lead the way.’
The evening of Edgar’s arrival at the cottage he had a walk on the cliffs with Wal Jessop, and again looked down upon the terrible rocks where the Distant Shore was dashed to pieces, and himself and Eva were so miraculously saved. As he looked into the depths below, the scene came vividly to mind again, and he could not resist grasping Wal Jessop by the hand, while the tears stood in his eyes.
Wal Jessop knew what he meant better than if he had spoken, and returned the pressure of his hand. They walked back to the cottage, and once more talked over the scenes of that awful night.
When Edgar saw Captain Fife that gentleman received him cordially, and promised to dispose of some of the rubies to the best advantage.
‘They are wonderfully good stones,’ said Captain Fife, ‘and there will be no difficulty in obtaining a stiff price for them. By the way, what are you going to do with yourself now? Are you returning to the station, or would you prefer to remain in Sydney?’
‘If I can obtain a suitable billet,’ said Edgar, ‘I should like to remain here.’
Captain Fife had been on the look-out for a private secretary for some time, and he offered Edgar the post, which he willingly accepted, thinking himself fortunate, as indeed he was, to gain such a position.
Time flies quickly, and when Edgar Foster had been private secretary to Captain Fife for over two years, he had become quite at home in Sydney, and was recognised as one of the best of good fellows. Edgar was fond of sports of all kinds, and he liked fun as well as any young fellow of his age, but he shunned the fast sets in the city, and one of his constant companions was Wal Jessop. Two or three times a week he went to Wal’s cottage to see Eva, who was rapidly growing into a very pretty girl. He heard regularly from home, and also had news from Yanda—for Will Brown was still there. Yacka had tried Sydney life, but quickly tired of it, and returned to the West.
Two or three expeditions had been fitted out to try and find the Cave of Enooma, as it was called, for the adventures of Edgar Foster and Will Brown had been related in the Sydney Mail, and naturally there was a desire to obtain the wealth stated to be there. These expeditions had, however, been failures, and nothing came of them. Yacka refused to lead anyone into the Enooma country, and Edgar and Will, when approached upon the subject, expressed their inability to do so. When the second expedition failed in its object, people said the discovery was a myth, but others knew better, and Edgar only smiled when he heard disparaging remarks made.
Although Edgar stuck well to his work during the time he had been with Captain Fife, he found ample opportunity to indulge in his favourite pastime, cricket, and, much to his delight, had been selected captain of the South Sydney team. In this capacity he not only proved himself a good all-round cricketer, but a splendid leader, and no one, it was generally acknowledged, placed his men to more advantage in the field. He was selected to play for New South Wales against Victoria, but, like many a good cricketer before him, he failed at his first attempt. There was, however, no doubt about his ability, and he now stood an excellent chance of being selected as one of the next Australian eleven. This is the height of every cricketer’s ambition in the colonies, and Edgar felt anxious as to whether his performances during the season would warrant the selection committee including him in the team. So far he had done fairly well. There remained one inter-Colonial match to play against South Australia, and Edgar knew upon this match would depend the final decision as to his being a member of the Australian eleven.
He had practised steadily, and felt confident, and was encouraged by Wal Jessop and Captain Fife. Will Brown wrote from Yanda, saying they were coming down in force to see him play, and Ben Brody added a postscript to the effect that the honour of the Yanda boys was in Edgar’s hands.
When the eventful day arrived Edgar’s feelings can be imagined. The match took place on the Association ground at Sydney, and the South Australians placed a formidable team on the field. Several men on either side were on their best mettle and playing for a place in the Australian eleven.
Ben Brody appeared on the ground resplendent in a new cabbage-tree hat, which he had bought in honour of the occasion. He was as anxious as anyone to see Edgar successful. Will Brown vowed if Edgar Foster went home with the team, he should go by the same boat. Will Henton, Harry Noke, and Jim Lee all came up from Yanda for the match, and consequently there was a family party on the ground. In Wal Jessop Ben Brody found a man after his own heart, and they got on well together.
Edgar felt encouraged by their presence to do his best, and something seemed to tell him he would succeed.
The New South Wales captain won the toss and elected to bat. This gave Edgar a chance to sit and chat with his friends. He hardly knew how popular he had become in Sydney, owing to his numerous adventures and his sterling character, until he saw the number of people who were only too proud to recognise him.
‘You must be a favourite with the ladies,’ said Ben Brody. ‘All the pretty girls are smiling at you. Lucky dog!’
It was true Edgar knew several nice girls, but he had not yet found one he preferred to any of the others. He thought there was time enough for that in another five or six years.
The home team commenced badly, and lost two wickets for thirty runs. At the fall of the fourth wicket Edgar Foster went in, and his appearance on the ground, from the pavilion, was the signal for a loud outburst of applause. As he walked to the crease Edgar vowed he would do his utmost to merit this reception. He was cool and collected, and had seldom felt so confident. He commenced well by making a couple of boundary hits in his first over. His partner, Frank Highdale, was well set, and the pair looked like making a big stand.
Edgar roused the spectators by hitting a ball into the pavilion, and Highdale had completely mastered the bowling. Runs came rapidly, and the South Australian captain seemed puzzled to know how to effect a separation.
Although Highdale had been batting some time before Edgar came in, the latter was first to reach the coveted fifty. When this number of runs appeared to Edgar’s name on the scoring-board, Ben Brody, to use his own expression, ‘broke loose.’ He cheered in the most frantic manner, and waved his huge hat in delight.
The New South Wales eleven were at the wickets all day, and when stumps were drawn Edgar Foster was ‘not out, one hundred and nine’! He was congratulated on all sides, and Captain Fife said, as he shook hands with him:
‘Your place in the team is assured. I shall cable to your father as soon as the selection is made. He will be mighty proud of his son.’
On the renewal of the match next day, Edgar added another fifty to his score, and was clean bowled, after making one hundred and fifty-nine, a magnificent innings.
The match ended in a win for the home colony by two hundred runs. In the second innings Edgar Foster placed fifty-six to his credit; he also bowled well during the match, and came out with a very good average.
Consequently, it was no surprise when he found his name amongst the favoured thirteen cricketers picked to make up the Australian team. He received a cablegram from his father congratulating him, and this gave him more pleasure than anything else.
As usual, there was some grumbling about the composition of the team, but no one had anything to say about Edgar Foster’s inclusion.
‘We are to go home in the Cuzco,’ said Edgar to Will Brown; ‘so you had better book your passage.’
‘You bet!’ said Will; ‘and who do you think is going home for a trip with us?’
‘Don’t know,’ said Edgar. ‘I wish we could take Yacka. He would create a sensation there.’
‘Yacka is far happier camping out at Yanda,’ said Will. ‘Ben Brody is going home with us. He says he has never had a holiday since he was a lad, over forty years ago, and he thinks it is about time he took one now.’
‘I am glad,’ said Edgar. ‘Ben Brody is a real good sort; he’s a rough diamond, but I like him better than if he were polished.’
The hands on Yanda were in high glee about Ben leaving them for a time. They fancied the mutton diet would be knocked off, but Ben said he should leave strict injunctions behind about that.
The time passed quickly, and the morning the Cuzco was to leave Circular Quay a large crowd of people assembled to see the New South Wales members of the team leave for London. There was so much hand-shaking, and so many parting good-byes, that Edgar felt sure some of them would be left behind.
Wal Jessop and his wife brought Eva down to see Edgar off, and the child did not like to see him leave her in the big steamer.
‘I will come back for you, Eva,’ said Edgar; ‘I promise you I will come back. Be a good girl while I am away, and I will bring you back the best doll I can find in London.’
‘With brown hair, and blue eyes?’ said Eva.
‘Yes,’ said Edgar. ‘It shall have bonny blue eyes, and bright brown hair like yours, Eva.’
He took her in his arms, and kissed her over and over again, and then handed her to Mrs. Jessop. Just as the gangway was about to be raised they saw a tall figure flying up it with long strides. It was Ben Brody.
‘You nearly missed us,’ said Edgar, laughing. ‘Where have you been? I thought I saw you on board some time back.’
‘So I was,’ said Ben, gasping for breath; ‘but I left my ‘bacca behind in a box at the hotel, and I’d sooner have gone back to Yanda than been on board without my usual brand.’
The Cuzco had now cast off, and as she left the wharf Edgar singled out Eva, hoisted high on Wal Jessop’s shoulder, and waved her a hearty farewell.
An Australian team bound for England always has a good time on board the steamer, and the eleven of which Edgar was a member was no exception to the rule. At Melbourne and Adelaide they were joined by the members of the team hailing from Victoria and South Australia.
On arriving at Colombo they went ashore to play a match against a team selected from the leading local cricketers. Being out of practice they did not play up to their usual form, and the Colombo team nearly defeated them, and were much elated in consequence.
At this time the mail steamers did not pass through the Suez Canal at night-time, and the Cuzco anchored off Ismailia. A run ashore to pass away the time was only natural, and Edgar, accompanied by Will Brown and other members of the team, made up a party. This night ashore at Ismailia was destined to effect a change in Edgar’s future life.
The population of Ismailia is a mixture of different nationalities, some of them being of a rather desperate and fierce nature. An Egyptian wedding-party passed through one of the streets; it was a curious sight to unaccustomed eyes. The men, swathed in long white garments, with turbans on their heads, and sandals on their feet, carried long poles, at the ends of which lanterns were fixed. Their brown arms and faces shone in the reflected light, and offered a strong contrast to the colour of their garments. Fierce eyes gleamed from under dark, bushy eyebrows, and as the men marched, uttering a wild chant in peculiar tones, the effect was somewhat weird. The bridegroom, who was being escorted to his bride, was a tall, powerful young fellow, of a better caste than his friends.
All went well until the procession approached the bride’s house, when a party of young fellows from the Cuzco, who had been revelling not wisely but too well, barred the road. It was a foolhardy thing to do. To stop such a procession was exceedingly dangerous, and could only be construed as an insult by the natives, who are not slow to avenge any slight put upon them.
Edgar and those with him saw the danger, and shouted to the obstructionists to move out of the way. It was, however, too late, and the warning would probably not have been heeded in any case. Seeing how matters stood, the Egyptians grew furious. Knives flashed in the light, and a rush was made at the foolish young fellows, who so recklessly hindered the procession.
‘Come on,’ shouted Edgar, ‘or there will be murder done!’
He rushed forward, followed by his companions, but they found it impossible to render much assistance, owing to the confusion. Edgar became separated from the others, and was drawing back from the crowd, when he heard a cry for help, followed by a woman’s shriek.
Rushing in the direction of the sound, he saw a girl of about eighteen struggling in the grasp of a powerful Egyptian. He recognised her as Miss Muriel Wylde, a passenger on the Cuzco, with whom he had had pleasant chats on deck. In a moment Edgar had the ruffian by the throat, and forced him to loose his hold. No sooner, however, was the girl free, than another man seized her and attempted to carry her off. She struggled violently, and shouted again for help. Edgar had his work cut out with the man he first tackled. He was unarmed, and had to rely upon his fists. The furious Egyptian rushed upon him with an uplifted knife in his hand. Edgar did not flinch, but caught the fellow by the wrist, and the knife flew from his grasp. Then, with his left fist, he dealt the man a savage blow between the eyes that well-nigh stunned him.
Turning to see what had become of Miss Wylde, Edgar saw that she had fainted, and her captor was hurrying away with her. Edgar gave chase, and quickly came up with him. The Egyptian dropped his burden, and turned on Edgar, aiming a terrific blow at him with his knife. Edgar sprang backwards, and the man over-reached himself. Before he recovered, Edgar had him on the ground, and stunned him by knocking his head on the hard road.
He then sprang to his feet, and went to the assistance of Miss Wylde, who had luckily been thrown on the soft sand by the side of the road, and found she had recovered from her faint.
‘Can you walk?’ said Edgar; ‘are you much hurt?’
She was trembling and alarmed, and could hardly answer him.
‘We must make our way to the quay,’ he said, ‘and get a boat back to the ship as quickly as possible. These fellows are frantic at being interfered with, and are in a dangerous state. Lean on me, and try and walk.’
She put her hand on his shoulder, and Edgar supported her by placing his arm round her waist.
They had not gone many yards before Edgar heard loud shouting behind them. It was evident some of the Egyptians were coming that way, and they must be avoided if possible. A few paces straight ahead Edgar saw a high wall, and what looked like a doorway. He lifted his companion off her feet, and ran as fast as he could towards the archway.
On reaching it he knocked loudly. The door was opened by an old native woman, who peered curiously into his face.
Without saying a word Edgar stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.
‘What do you here?’ asked the old woman, in broken English. ‘Are you from the ship?’
‘Yes,’ said Edgar, not knowing what else to say, or what excuse to give for his conduct.
The old woman’s eyes gleamed, and her wrinkled, parchment-like skin seemed to crumple up and almost crack. Her mouth expanded in what she no doubt meant for a smile, but Edgar thought it a diabolical grin, and Muriel Wylde shrank back.
‘Money—gold!’ said the woman hoarsely, her skinny hands extended like a couple of claws. ‘Gold, and you shall hear your fortune. The oldest Egyptian in Ismailia can speak truth.’
Edgar felt relieved; had the old woman guessed they were fugitives she might not have been so friendly. He looked at his companion, and said:
‘We shall be glad to hear our fortunes from you, mother. That is what we came for,’ and he took a sovereign out of his pocket.
The old Egyptian’s eyes fastened upon it, and her hand was stretched out.
‘Give me your hand,’ she said to Miss Wylde.
The girl put out her open hand reluctantly, and the Egyptian gazed at it so attentively that she appeared to have forgotten the coin.
‘You have been in trouble, and he has saved you,’ croaked the woman.
The girl started, and the Egyptian smiled at this corroborative evidence. She had hazarded a guess at the situation, and hit the mark.
She then proceeded to give an account of what would follow this adventure, and caused Muriel Wylde to blush, and wish she was safely on board again.
Edgar’s future was soon told, in the usual strain. He was the hero of the story, and would be rewarded in due time by the hand of the lady he had rescued.
Edgar gave the fortune-teller the sovereign, and asked her to direct them to the quay. She cautiously opened the door, and peered out into the darkness, listening attentively. She beckoned them to step out, and then pointed in the direction in which they should go.
They walked for some distance, and then reached the part of the town where the cafés were still open, and men and women were drinking coffee, seated round tables under the verandas and trees.
They sat down at one of the tables and rested, refreshing themselves with some excellent coffee.
‘We must hurry back to the ship,’ said Edgar. ‘Your party may have returned, and if so your mother will be very anxious.’
She was eager to go, and they rose from the table. As they walked away a tall Egyptian followed them. It was one of the men Edgar had knocked down. They were not out of danger yet.
A long avenue led down to the quay, where the boats were generally waiting to sail or row passengers back to the ship.
The Egyptian followed them, keeping within the shadow of the trees, his bare feet making no sound.
Muriel Wylde was still weak from the effect of the shock she had received, and Edgar had to support her. He seemed nothing loath to do so, and his companion felt a sense of pleasurable security with his strong arm round her waist.
On reaching the quay Edgar called out to a boatman, who came slowly towards them in his tiny craft.
He explained that he wanted to be taken to the Cuzco, and the boatman agreed.
Edgar handed his companion down into the boat, and as she stepped on to the seat she looked up and gave a cry of alarm. Behind Edgar stood the tall Egyptian, who had crept stealthily up, and was about to stab Edgar in the back. At her cry Edgar looked round, and, seeing no other way of escape, he sprang into the water. The Egyptian sprang after him, and grasped Edgar by the arm. A terrible struggle then took place, and in the water the Egyptian proved the more powerful.
The man in the boat made no movement until Muriel Wylde seized a round pole, and tried to hit Edgar’s assailant on the head. The boatman then took the part of his countryman, and attempted to seize the pole and wrench it out of Muriel’s hands. The girl, however, was now thoroughly roused. Edgar had rescued her, and she must do the same for him, for he was in deadly peril. The Egyptian dragged Edgar down and got his head under the water, with the evident intention of drowning him.
A struggle commenced in the boat, but by a lucky stroke Muriel managed to hit the boatman in the chest, and he fell overboard. The Egyptian was not far from the boat, and Muriel, raising the pole, brought it down heavily on his head, causing him to loose his hold of Edgar.
Half suffocated, Edgar came to the surface, and struck out feebly for the boat.
Muriel leaned over the side and grasped him by the arm. Pulling with all her strength, she managed to give him sufficient assistance to help him to scramble into the boat.
The two Egyptians in the water were on either side of the boat, and were trying to upset it, and Muriel kept them from clambering in by hitting at them with the pole.
Edgar was well-nigh exhausted, but he managed to set the sail, and, as the breeze was blowing from the shore, the boat soon made headway and left the Egyptians behind. Finding pursuit hopeless, they swam ashore, and stood there gesticulating furiously.
Muriel, turning round to look at Edgar, saw he was unconscious. She was accustomed to sailing-boats, and, having placed her jacket under Edgar’s head, she steered with one hand and guided the sail with the other. The boat sped along in the direction of the Cuzco, whose lights were seen shining in the distance.
Muriel Wylde sat watching Edgar, and when she thought over their night’s adventures, she was thankful they had escaped with life. Edgar was a handsome young fellow, and Muriel Wylde felt her heart beat fast as she looked at him. They had been good friends on board during the voyage, and Edgar’s mates had chaffed him about ‘pretty Miss Wylde.’ Her mother had noticed her daughter’s partiality for Edgar’s society, and did not discourage it, as she had taken a fancy to the young fellow.
Before they reached the steamer, Muriel Wylde left the stern of the boat for a moment to attend to Edgar. As she bent over him, he opened his eyes and looked into her face, which was very near to his own. Their eyes met, and they suddenly felt that something had been revealed to each of them.
Edgar took Muriel Wylde’s hands, and drew her towards him. She did not resist, and when he kissed her she was not surprised or startled. It seemed a fitting climax to the dangers they had passed through.
So lost were they in each other, although neither spoke, they did not notice they were close to the Cuzco. A loud ‘Ahoy!’ from the deck roused them, and in a few minutes they were alongside the steamer, and friendly hands were assisting them up the gangway.
Their adventures at Ismailia formed the subject of conversation for several days between Edgar and Muriel Wylde. With her mother’s consent, Muriel accepted Edgar’s offer of marriage, and when the engagement became known on board they were regarded with romantic interest by the passengers. The remainder of the voyage proved uneventful. Muriel Wylde and her mother left the steamer at Naples, and proceeded overland to London, but Edgar remained on board with the team.
On arriving at Tilbury, the eleven received a hearty welcome from a large number of influential cricketers and lovers of the game. To Edgar, all this was as nothing to the joy he felt at meeting his father and Doris again.
Elm Lodge looked much the same as when he went away, and the old home was so peaceful that Edgar began to wonder how he had ever made up his mind to leave it. He had much to relate to his father and sister, and, needless to say, Will Brown entertained Doris in a manner agreeable to that young lady.
The wreck of the Distant Shore was described again, and Robert Foster noticed with pride how modestly Edgar spoke of the part he took in saving Eva.
‘Poor Manton!’ said Robert Foster. ‘I am sorry he was drowned, for a better seaman could not be found. I should like to meet Wal Jessop, and we must try and have little Eva over here, for we cannot spare you again, Edgar, now we have got you at home.’
‘It would be splendid if Wal could be induced to bring Eva and his wife home,’ said Edgar. ‘I must write and ask him. You have to meet Ben Brody, who came over with us, and I am sure you will be amused at him. He is a character, and a rough-and-ready customer, but a genuine good fellow.’
When Edgar spoke of his engagement to Muriel Wylde, his father was pleased he had found a girl after his own heart, for his son’s happiness always held a foremost place with him.
‘And what about the Australian eleven?’ said Robert Foster. ‘Are they a strong team? It is rather too bad of you to play against the old country. It places me in an awkward position. Of course, I am patriotic enough to wish to see England victorious, and yet I shall be highly delighted to see you pile up a big score.’
‘I shall do my best,’ said Edgar; ‘and every member of the team will try hard to win the matches. I think we stand an excellent chance, and you will have to put your best eleven in the field to beat us in the test matches.’
‘Your men generally play well, and with constant practice they know each other’s play thoroughly, but we have some splendid cricketers now, and they will take a lot of beating,’ said his father.
‘All the more credit to us, then, if we win,’ said Edgar.
The members of an Australian eleven have plenty of hard work to go through when in England, and Edgar could not remain idle at home. He went to Mitcham to practise on the famous common, and his father accompanied him to see how the men shaped. To two or three of the older members of the team, who had been in England before, Robert Foster was well known, and his appearance with Edgar was hailed with delight.
William Murch, the captain of the Australians, shook hands heartily with Robert Foster, and said with a smile:
‘We have had you against us on many occasions, but I think we can cry quits now we have your son on our side.’
‘How does Edgar shape?’ asked Robert Foster.
‘I consider him one of our best bats, and expect great things of him. He has a happy knack of making a big score when it is most wanted. He is a smart fielder and a good change bowler. In fact, I cannot pay him a higher compliment than to say he is as good a man as his father,’ said Murch.
Edgar was now at the nets, and making the balls fly about merrily.
‘He does not seem very stiff after the voyage,’ said Robert Foster. ‘His wrist play is good, but his style could be improved a bit. I must give him a wrinkle or two.’
‘That will be going over to the enemy’s camp,’ said Murch, with a laugh; ‘but we shall be glad of such a valuable coach.’
‘By Jove! so it will,’ said Robert Foster. ‘But I cannot resist the temptation, all the same. We cricketers, I am glad to say, are always ready to help each other, and I have had many a good wrinkle given me by Australians.’
‘Ah! it is a game that stands ahead of all other games,’ said Murch enthusiastically. ‘It is a genuine sport, and a manly sport. It not only gives pleasure to the players, but to thousands of people in all parts of the world. Lovers of cricket, no matter where you go, are always willing to help each other.’
‘You are right,’ said Robert Foster. ‘Cricket will never take a back seat to any other game.’
‘Look out!’ said Murch, as he dodged a ball hit by Edgar. ‘Your son is evidently bent upon letting us know he is at the nets.’
When he had finished his turn with the bat Edgar joined his father and Murch.
‘How do you think I shape?’ said Edgar.
‘Very well,’ replied his father, ‘but your style is rather faulty. I think I can give you a hint as to what I mean when we reach home.’
‘Now then, Will, it’s your turn,’ said Edgar, and Will Murch went to the nets with his bat under his arm.
‘You have seen him play before?’ said Edgar.
‘Many times,’ said his father. ‘He is a splendid bat, and I should think he will make a good captain. Is he popular with the team?’
‘Very,’ said Edgar. ‘I believe every one of us thinks he is the best man that could have been selected.’
‘That is the proper feeling to start with,’ said Robert Foster. ‘If you have no confidence in your captain, defeat is almost certain.’
When Robert Foster had seen the Australians at practice on several occasions, he came to the conclusion it was the strongest team that had yet come to England.
‘The test matches will be a treat,’ he said. ‘If honours are divided in the first two matches, what tremendous excitement there will be over the final!’
‘Which I hope we shall win,’ said Edgar.
Doris Foster was quite as interested as her father in the probable result of the tour. Although Will Brown had not returned from Australia with enough wealth to warrant him in setting up an establishment of his own, Doris thought she would not be risking much in accepting him as her lover. With Robert Foster’s sanction they became engaged, and the family circle at Elm Lodge increased.
Ben Brody came to Elm Lodge, and soon made himself at home. Robert Foster discovered that men of Brody’s stamp are to be trusted, and although he might have been out of place amidst the sham and humbug of a society drawing-room, Ben Brody was in his element at Elm Lodge.
His quaint remarks caused roars of laughter, and he drew some amusing pictures of station life in which Edgar and Will Brown were conspicuous figures.
‘I’ll tell you what it is,’ he said to Edgar one day as they sat on the lawn enjoying the fragrant weed, ‘this beats Yanda hollow. What a trump your dad is! Talk about colonial hospitality, it is a mere trifle to the way in which I have been treated here. I have lived on the fat of the land, while those poor beggars at Yanda have been stifling their ill-feelings with the usual mutton. Then there’s your sister—but she ought to have a whole vocabulary to herself and not be mixed up with such matters. Will Brown’s a lucky fellow, and so for the matter of that are you. Girls like Miss Muriel Wylde are not found every day. I wonder if you will ever return to Australia.’
‘That remains to be seen,’ said Edgar. ‘After the tour will be time enough to think about that.’
The opening match of the tour was played at Sheffield Park against Lord Sheffield’s eleven. Ever ready to assist in promoting honest manly games, H.R.H. the Prince of Wales honoured them with his presence. Will Murch was introduced to his Royal Highness, and was naturally much elated. The match resulted in a win for the Australians, but Edgar did not ‘come off’ on this occasion.
As the weeks rolled by and the tour progressed, it was easy to see the Australian eleven was a fine team. So far they had only been twice beaten—once by an M.C.C. eleven, and in the first match against England.
Their second struggle with the cracks of the home team had resulted in a win for the Australians. Edgar played well in these matches, but had done nothing particularly wonderful. Against several of the county elevens he had made good scores. He astonished W. G. at Gloucester by the way he knocked the champion’s bowling about, and the hero of a hundred fights warmly congratulated him on his performance.
‘I always thought W. G. was a jealous man,’ said Edgar.
‘Not a bit of it,’ said Robert Foster. ‘He’s one of the first to recognise merit in a cricketer. I’ll tell you what he is jealous about.’
‘And that is?’ asked Edgar.
‘The honour of the game, and the honour of his side when he captains a team,’ said Robert Foster.
The final test match was to be played at Lord’s, and the greatest interest was manifested in the result. Throughout England enthusiastic cricketers waxed eloquent over the forthcoming struggle. In Australia every item of news was eagerly read and discussed. It might safely be said that millions of people anxiously awaited the result of this great match. The picking of the England eleven was a difficult task, but at last it was done, and Robert Foster could not find a fault with the team.
‘They ought to beat you, Edgar,’ he said. ‘It is the best team that could have been selected. Grace has had a large finger in that pie, and no fault can be found with it. I cannot pick out a weak spot.’
‘They have not won yet,’ said Edgar; ‘and all our men are in splendid trim. Murch is sanguine, and he’s not given to over-estimate our chances. Lord’s has been our unlucky ground, but that is no reason why we should not prove successful.’
‘What a sight it will be!’ said Robert Foster. ‘I hope you will pile up a big score.’
‘So do I,’ replied Edgar. ‘This is my chance, and I shall do my best.’
The great match was to commence on Monday, and on the Sunday quite a party of cricketers assembled at Elm Lodge. Will Murch, Bannman, Black, Royle of the Australians, and two of the English team enjoyed Robert Foster’s hospitality and listened to the yarns spun by Ben Brody.
Muriel Wylde and her mother were in London for the match, and came to spend the day at Elm Lodge. Muriel and Doris were great friends, and found much to talk about. It was an eventful Sunday, this day before the great match, which formed almost the sole topic of conversation. Many were the surmises as to who would make the big scores, and which bowler would secure the best average.
‘We count upon you this time,’ said Murch to Edgar. ‘It is your turn to knock up a big score against England.’
‘I mean to try,’ said Edgar, ‘and I feel very fit.’
‘Muriel will be terribly disappointed if you make less than a hundred,’ said Doris.
‘That is rather a large order,’ laughed Edgar, ‘but I must do my best to execute it.’
Late hours were not kept that night. Robert Foster packed them off in good time.
‘You shall have a night of it when the match is over,’ he said to Will Murch. ‘Win or lose, you must come here to celebrate the event. Remember I am equally interested in both sides.’
As Edgar bade Muriel good-night, she said:
‘I am quite anxious about you, Edgar. I feel sure you will succeed. I shall be terribly excited during the first over, but when you are firmly set and making a score, it will be glorious.’