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Title: Wilderness Trek (1944)Author: Zane Grey* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *eBook No.: 0608291h.htmlLanguage:  EnglishDate first posted: November 2006Date most recently updated: November 2006Project Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed editionswhich are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright noticeis included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particularpaper edition.Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check thecopyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing thisfile.This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictionswhatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the termsof the Project Gutenberg of Australia License which may be viewed online athttp://gutenberg.net.au/licence.html

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Wilderness Trek

by

Zane Grey

CHAPTER I

Across the blue Tasman Sea, smooth and heaving on that lastday, the American adventurers eagerly watched the Australianhorizon line grow bold and rugged.

"Red, it's land--land," said Sterl, his gray eyes dim fromwatching and remembrance of other land like that, from which hemust forever be an exile. "The mate told me that was Sydney Headsover there."

"Shore, pard, I seen it long ago," replied Red. "This heah seagettin' level an' that sight just about saved my life...Sterl, nomore ridin' ships for Red Krehl."

"But Red, I begged you not to come," replied Hazelton.

"What kind of talk is thet? Do you think I'd ever let you goto hell alone? Pard, this heah Australia begins to loom up kindabig, at thet. But it's English--an' whoever heerd of an Englishgurl lookin' at a cowboy?"

"Red, someday you'll get enough girl to do you for good andall, as I got."

"Shore I can stand a lot, Sterl...Say, if I'd had a bottle onthis ship I wouldn't be near daid now...Sterl, let's have oneorful drunk before we hunt for jobs."

"Sounds good, but it's no sense."

"But we never had no sense nohow," protested Red. "You takin'the blame for thet gunplay! An' me fool enough to let you!"

This time Sterling Hazelton did not reprove his friend.--Thepang was still there in his breast.--Nan Halbert had loved him aswell as his cousin, Ross Haight--Ross, lovable and sweet-temperedexcept in his cups, the only child of an ailing father with landsand herds to bequeath--Ross, who had shot a man who certainlydeserved it. Sterl had taken upon himself that guilt, which tohim was not guilt. His family had been gone so long that hehardly remembered them, except his schoolteacher mother who hadloved and taught him. There had been only Nan. And what could hehave done for her, compared with what Ross could do? It allrolled back in poignant memory to the scene where Ross hadconfronted him and Red that last night.

"But Sterl!" he had rung out, "Nan will believe you killedthis man!...And everybody else. How can I stand that?"

"For her sake! She loves you best...Go straight,Ross...Good-by!"

And Sterl had raced away into the blackness of the Arizonanight, followed by the loyal Red.

"Red, you remember the package that Ross forced upon you togive me?" Hazelton said suddenly.

"Shore I remember," replied Red, looking up with interest. "Ihad a hunch it was money..."

"Yes--money. Ten thousand dollars!"

"Holy mavericks!" ejaculated Red, astounded. "Where'd Ross getit?"

"Must have told his father. Red, I'm asking you to take halfof this money and go back home."

"Yeah! The hell you air?" retorted Red.

"Yes, pard, I'm begging you."

"An' why for?" queried Red. "'Cause you don't want me withyou?"

"No--no. It'd be grand to have you--but for your sake!"

"Wal, if it's for my sake don't insult me no more. Would youleave me if you was me an' I you? Honest Injun, Sterl? Wal, what'seatin' you then?"

"All right, I apologize. Stay with me, Red. God knows I'llneed you...Boy, we're getting somewhere. Look. There's a big shipsteaming along under the left wall, from the west."

"Gosh, they shore look grand. I never seen ships atall till wegot to Frisco...This Sydney must be a real man-sized burg,huh?"

"Big city, Red, and I'm going to take you out of it 'muypronto.'"

"Suits me, pard. But what air we gonna do? We don't knownuthin' but hosses, guns an' cattle."

"I read that Australia is going to be a big cattlecountry."

"If thet's a fact we're ridin' pretty," returned Red, withsatisfaction.

They lapsed into one of their frequent silences while the shipsailed on, her yards and booms creaking. Soon the mile-widegateway to Australia offered the sailing ship a lonely entrance.Australia's far-famed harbor opened up to Sterl's sight, a longcurving bay with many arms cutting into the land. Miles inland,around a broad turn where ships rode at anchor, the city ofSydney stood revealed, foreign and stately, gray-walled,red-roofed.

While Sterl and Red packed their bags, the ship easedalongside a dock, and tied up. From the dock, they were led intoa shed, and after a brief examination were free. One of thestevedores directed them to an inn, where soon they had aroom.

It was early in the afternoon. Krehl voted for seeing thesights. But Sterl disapproved, for that meant looking upondrink.

"Pard, we must get our bearings and rustle for the openrange," he said.

Whereupon they set out to ask two cardinally importantquestions--where was the cattle country and how could they getthere?

"Outback," replied more than one person, waving a hand, thatlike an Indian's gesture signified vague and remote distance. Atlast a big man looked them up and down and smiled when he asked,"Yankees?"

"Yes. It must be written all over us," admitted Sterl, with ananswering smile. "Are you drovers?"

"Drovers?" echoed Sterl.

"Horsemen--drivers of cattle."

"Oh! You bet. Plain Arizona and Texas cowboys. We eat up hardwork. Where can we get jobs?"

"Any station owner will hire you. But I advise you to go toQueensland. Big cattle mustering there."

"Where and how far?" queried Sterl, eagerly.

"Five hundred miles up the coast and inland three or fourhundred more. Board the freighter 'Merrvvale' down at the dock.Sails at six today. Brisbane is your stop. Good luck,cowboys."

Sterl led his comrade down the waterfront to where the bigfreighter was tied up in the center of busy shipping activitiesand bought passage to Brisbane. Next morning they awoke to findthe sea calm, with the steamer tearing along not five miles outfrom a picturesque shoreline. And as the partners leaned over therail of this steamer to gaze at a white-wreathed shoreline,extending for leagues on leagues to north and south, at therolling green ridges rising on and upward to the high ranges,Sterl felt that beyond these calling, dim mountains there mightawait him the greatest adventure of his life.

"Dog-gone-it!" Red was drawling. "I wanta be mad as hell, butI jest cain't. Gosh, pard, it's grand country! I hate to knuckleto it, but even Texas cain't beat thet!"

The sailors were friendly and talkative. On the secondafternoon, the skipper, a fine old seadog, invited them to comeup on the bridge. Sterl took advantage of the opportunity to tellhim their plans.

"Boys, you've a fine opening, if you can stand the heat, thedust, the drought, the blacks, the floods, the fires, besidesharder work than galley slaves," he said.

"Captain, driving cattle on the Texas plain wasn't just apicnic," replied Sterl.

"You'll think so after droving upcountry here."

"Boss, I reckon we've been up agin' all you said 'cept theblacks. Jest what air these blacks?" inquired Red, deeplyinterested.

"The natives of Australia. Aborigines."

"You mean niggers?"

"Some people call them niggers. They're not Negroes. But theyare black as coal."

"Bad medicine, mebbe?" inquired Red.

"Cannibals. They eat you."

"Boss," said Red, "I've had my fill of fightin' greasers,rustlers, robbers an' redskins on the Texas trails, but gosh! allof them put together cain't be as wuss as black men--cannibalswho eat you."

"Captain," said Sterl, "you're sure putting the wind up us, asyou Australians say. But tell us a little about cattle, andranches--you call them stations."

"I've only a general bit of knowledge," returned the skipper."There are stations up and down New South Wales, and eastern andcentral Queensland. Gradually cattlemen are working outback. I'veheard of the terrible times they had. No drovers have yet goneinto the unknown interior--called the Never-never Land by the fewexplorers who did not leave their bones to be picked by the blackmen."

"Pard, thet's kind hard to believe," said Red, shaking hishead. "No places I ever heard about was as bad as they waspainted."

"You are in for an adventure at any rate," went on theskipper. "There's some big movement on from Brisbane. We haveconsignments of flour, harness, wagons, on board that proveit."

The "Merryvale" docked at dawn. After breakfast Sterl and Redlabored ashore, dragging their burdens of baggage, curious andeager as boys half their age. Brisbane did not impress them withits bigness, but it sparkled under a bright sun, and appearedalive and bustling.

They found a hotel, and sallied forth on the second lap oftheir adventure. They were directed to a merchandise store whichwas filling orders for a company of drovers making ready to leaveDownsville in Central Queensland for points unknown.

Sterl got hold of the manager, a weather-beaten man who hadseen service in the open.

"Is there any chance for jobs outback?" he said.

"Chance? Young man, they'll welcome you with open arms. Reportis that the drovers can't find men enough to start. Bing Slyteris here with his teamsters. He's one of the drovers and he'sbuying supplies for the Danns. I'll find him for you."

In a moment they faced a big man whose wide shoulders made hisheight appear moderate. If he was an Australian cattleman, Sterlthought, he surely liked the type. Slyter had a strong face castin bronze, a square chin, and eyes that pierced like daggers.

"Good day, young men," he said, in a voice that matched hissize. "Watson here tells me you're American cowboys looking forjobs."

"Yes, sir. I'm Sterling Hazelton, from Arizona, and this isRed Krehl, from Texas. I'm twenty-five, and he's a year younger.We were born to the saddle and have driven cattle all our lives.We rode the Chisholm Trail for three years. That's ourrecommendation."

"It's enough, after looking you over," returned Slyter, inbooming gladness. "We Australians have heard of the ChisholmTrail. You drove mobs of cattle across Texas north to new marketsin Kansas?"

"Yes, sir. Five hundred miles of hard going. Sand, bad rivers,buffalo stampedes, electric storms, hailstones, Indians andrustlers."

"Rustlers? We call them bushrangers. Cattle thieves justbeginning to make themselves felt. I'll give you jobs. What wagesdo you ask?"

"Whatever you want to pay will satisfy us," replied Sterl. "Wewant hard riding in a new country."

"Settled. If it's hard riding you want you'll get it. Wedrovers are undertaking the greatest trek in Australian history.Seven or eight thousand cattle three thousand miles across theNever-never!"

"Mr. Slyter," burst out Sterl, "such a drive is unheard of.Three thousand Texas longhorns made hell on earth for a dozencowboys. But this herd--this mob, as you call it--across thatNever-never Land, if it's unknown and as terrible as theysay...Why, man, the drive is impossible."

"Hazelton, we can do it, and you're going to be a great help.I was discouraged before I left home. But my daughter Lesliesaid: 'Dad, don't give up. You'll find men!' Leslie's a grandkid."

"You're taking your family on this trek?" queried Sterl,aghast.

"Yes. And there'll be at least one other family."

"You Australians don't lack nerve," smiled Sterl.

"Do you need money to outfit?"

"No, sir. But we need to know what to buy."

"Buy rifles, and all the ammunition you can afford. Tents,blankets, and mosquito nets, clothes, extra boots, socks, sometools, a medicine kit, bandages, gloves--a dozen pair, somebottles of whisky, and about a ton, more or less, of tobacco.That goes furthest with the blacks. You needn't stint on accountof room. We'll have wagons and drays."

"But, Mr. Slyter," exclaimed Sterl in amaze, "we don't want tostock a store!"

"Boys," laughed the drover, "this great trek will take twoyears. Two years droving across the Never-never Land to theKimberleys!"

"It will be never!" cried Sterl, staggered at the import.

"Whoopee!" yelled Red.

CHAPTER 2

The remainder of that stimulating day Sterl and Red spent inthe big merchandise store, making purchases for a two-year's tripbeyond the frontier. Investment in English saddles, two fineEnglish rifles to supplement Sterl's Winchester .44 and thousandsof cartridges broke the ice of old accustomed frugality, andintroduced an orgy of spending.

It took a dray to transport their outfit to the yard on theoutskirts of town, to which they had been directed. Late in theafternoon they had all their purchases stowed away in the frontof one of the big new wagons, with their baggage on top, and thewoolen blankets spread. Before that, however, they had changedtheir traveling clothes to the worn and comfortable garb ofcowboys. Sterl had not felt so good for weeks. It was allsettled. No turning back! That time of contending tides oftrouble was past. He would be happy, presently, and forget.

They had scraped acquaintance with one of Slyter's teamsters,a hulking, craggy-visaged chap some years their senior, whoannounced that his name was Roland Tewksbury Jones. Red'sreaction to that cognomen was characteristic.

"Yeah? Have a cigar," he said, producing one with a grandflourish. "My handle is Red. Seein' as how I couldn't rememberyore turrible name I'll call you Rol, for short. On the Texastrails I knowed a lot of Joneses, in particular Buffalo Jones,Dirty Face Jones and Wrong-Wheel Jones."

Roland evinced a calm speculation as to what manner of manthis Yankee cowboy was. He accepted Sterl's invitation to havedinner with them, and invited them to go to a pub for a drink.Returning to their wagon, they found a fire blazing and the otherteamsters busily loading the supplies. Spreading their canvas andblankets under the wagon, as they had done thousands of times,the cowboys turned in. Sterl slept infinitely sounder out in theopen, on the hard ground, than he had for two months, on softbeds. Indeed, the sun was shining brightly when the cowboysawoke. Teamsters were leading horses out of the paddock; otherswere tying tarpaulins over the wagons. Jones addressed Red: "Youhave time for breakfast if you move as fast as you said you didin Texas."

Returning to the outfit, Sterl saw that they were about readyto start, two teams to a wagon. He had an appreciative eye forthe powerful horses. He found a seat beside the driver, while Redpropped himself up behind. Inquiry about Mr. Slyster elicited theinformation that the head drover had left at daylight in hislight two-horse rig. Jones took up the reins and led theprocession of drays and wagons out into the road.

Soon the town was left behind. A few farms and gardens linedthe road for several miles. Then the yellow grass-centered roadled into a jungle of green and gold and bronze. They had ten daysor more to drive, mostly on a level road, said Jones, with goodcamp sites, plenty of water and grass, meat for the killing,mosquitoes in millions, and bad snakes.

"Bad snakes?" echoed Sterl, in dismay. He happened to be notover-afraid of snakes, and he had stepped on too many a rattlerto jump out of his. boots, but the information was notwelcome.

"Say, Rol, I heahed you," interposed Red, who feared neitherman nor beast nor savage, but was in mortal terror of snakes."Thet's orful bad news. What kind of snakes?"

Sterl sensed Jones's rising to the occasion. "Black and brownsnakes most common, and grow to eight feet. Hit you hard and arenot too poisonous. Tiger snakes mean and aggressive. If you heara sharp hiss turn to stone right where you are. Death adders arethe most dangerous. They are short, thick, sluggish beggers andrank poison. The pythons and boas are not so plentiful. But youmeet them. They grow to twenty feet and can give you quite ahug."

"Aw, is thet all?" queried Red, who evidently was impressivelyscared, despite his natural skepticism.

The thick golden-green grass grew as high as the flanks of ahorse; cabbage trees and a stunted brushy palm stood upconspicuously; and the gum trees, or eucalyptus, grew inprofusion. Shell-barked and smooth, some of them resembled thebronze and opal sycamores of America, and others beeches andlaurels. Here and there stood up a lofty spotted gum, branchlessfor a hundred feet, and then spreading great, curved limbs abovethe other trees to terminate in fine, thin-leaved, steely-greenfoliage.

As they penetrated inland, birds began to attract Sterl. Acrow with a dismal and guttural caw took him back to the creekbottoms of Texas. Another crow, black with white spotted wings,Jones called Australia's commonest bird, the magpie. It appearedcurious and friendly, and had a melodious note that grew uponSterl. It was deep and rich--a lovelysound--cur-ra-wong--cur-ra-wong.

"See you like birds. So do I," said Jones to Sterl."Australians ought to, for we have hundreds of wonderful kinds.The lyrebird in the bush can imitate any song or sound he hears.Leslie Slyter loves them. She knows where they stay, too. Perhapsshe'll take you at daybreak to hear them."

Here Red Krehl pricked up his ears to attention. Anything inthe world that could be relegated in the slightest to femininity,Red clasped to his breast.

Presently the road led out of the jungle into a big area ofground cleared of all except the largest trees. On a knoll stooda house made of corrugated iron. Jones called it a cattlestation. Sterl looked for cattle in vain. Red said. "Shines outlike a dollar in a fog."

Grass and brush densely covered the undulating hills. Sterlconcluded that Australian cattle were equally browsers andgrazers. The road wound to and fro between the hills, keeping toa level, eventually to enter thick bush again. Sterl made theacquaintance of flocks of colored parrots--galahs the drivercalled them--that flew swiftly as bullets across the road; andthen a flock of white cockatoos that squawked in loud protest atthe invasion of their domain. When they sailed above the wagon,wide wings spread, Sterl caught a faint tinge of yellow. Whenthey crossed the first brook, a clear swift little stream thatpassed on gleaming and glancing under the wide-spreading foliage,a blue heron and a white crane took lumbering flight.

They came into a wide valley, rich in wavy grass, and studdedwith bunches of cattle and horses. "Ha! Some hosses," quoth Red.As Jones slowed up along a bank higher than the wagon bed, Sterlheard solid thumping thuds, then a swish of grass, and Red'sstentorian, "WHOOPEE!"

He wheeled in time to see three great, strange, furry animalsleaping clear over the wagon. They had long ears and enormoustails. He recognized them in the middle of their prodigious leap,but could not remember their names. They cleared the road, tobound away as if on springs.

"Whoa!" yelled Red. "What'n'll was thet?...Did you see what Isee? Lord! there ain't no such critters!"

"Kangaroos," said the teamster. "And that biggest one is anold man roo all right."

"Oh, what a sight!" exclaimed Sterl. "Kangaroos--ofcourse...One of them almost red. Jones, it struck me they sprangoff their tails."

"Kangaroos do use their tails. Wait till you get smacked withone."

The trio of queer beasts stopped some hundred rods off and satup to gaze at the wagon.

"Air they good to eat?" queried the practical Red.

"We like kangaroo meat when we can't get beef or turkey orfowl. But that isn't often."

"What's that?" shouted Sterl, suddenly, espying a small grayanimal hopping across the road.

"Wallaby. A small species of kangaroo."

More interesting miles, that seemed swift, brought them to anopen flat crossed by a stream bordered with full-foliagedyellow-blossoming trees, which Jones called wattles. Jones made ahalt there to rest and water the horses, and to let the otherwagons catch up. Red began to make friends with the otherteamsters, always an easy task for the friendly, loquaciouscowboy. They appeared to belong to a larger, brawnier type thanthe American outdoor men, and certainly were different from thelean, lithe, narrow-hipped cowboy. They build a fire and setabout making tea, "boiling the billy," Jones called it. Sterlsampled the beverage and being strange even to American tea hesaid: "Now I savvy why you English are so strong."

"I should smile," drawled Red, making a wry face. "I shorecould ride days on thet drink."

Under a huge gum tree, in another green valley, on the bank ofa creek, Jones drove into a cleared space and called a halt forcamp.

"Wal, Rol, what air there for me an' my pard to do?" queriedthe genial Red.

"That depends. What can you Yankees do?" replied Jones,simply, as if really asking for information.

Red cocked a blazing blue eye at the teamster and drawled:"Wal, it'd take a lot less time if you'd ask what we cain't do.Outside of possessin' all the cowboy traits such as ridin',ropin', shootin', we can hunt, butcher, cook, bake sourdoughbiscuits an' cake, shoe hosses, mend saddle cinches, plait ropes,chop wood, build fires in wet weather, bandage wounds an' mendbroken bones, smoke, drink, play poker, an' fight."

"You forgot one thing, I've observed, Red, and that is--youcan talk," replied Jones, still sober-faced as a judge.

"Yeah?...But fun aside, what ought we do?"

"Anything you can lay a hand to," answered the driver,cheerily.

One by one the other wagons rolled up. These teamsters wereefficient and long used to camp tasks. The one who evidently wascook knew his business. "Easy when you have everything," he saidto Sterl. "But when we get out on trek, with nothing but meat andtea, and damper, then no cook is good."

After supper Sterl got out his rifle and, loading it, strolledaway from camp along the edge of the creek. The sun was settinggold, lighting the shiny-barked gums and burnishing the longgreen leaves. He came upon a giant tree fern where high over hishead the graceful lacy leaves dropped down. The great gum was byfar the most magnificent tree Sterl had ever seen. It stood overtwo hundred feet high, with no branches for half that distance;then they spread wide, as large in themselves as ordinary trees.The color was a pale green--with round pieces of red-brown barksloughing off.

All at once Sterl's keen eye caught the movement of something.It was a small, round, furry animal, gray in color, with blunthead and tiny ears. It was clinging to a branch, peeringcomically down at him, afraid. Then Sterl espied another one,farther up, another far out on the same branch, and at last afourth, swinging upon a swaying tip. Sterl yelled lustily for Redand Jones.

"Look, Red! Jones, what are those queer little animals?"

"Koala bears," said the teamster, "Queensland bush is alivewith them."

"Pard, pass me yore gun," said Red.

"Ump-umm, you bloodthirsty cowboy!...They look tame."

"They are tame," rejoined Jones. "Friendly little fellows.Leslie has some for pets."

Night made the campfire pleasant. The teamsters, through forthe day, sat around smoking and talking. Campfires in Australiaseemed to have the same cheer, the same opal hearts and flyingsparks, the same drawing together of kindred spirits, that theyhad on the ranges of America. But the great Southern Cross, analoof and marvelous constellation, proved to Sterl that he was anexile. A dismal chorus of wild barks sounded from thedarkness.

"Dingoes," said a teamster.

"Dingoes. Haw! Haw!" laughed Red, "Another funny one."

"Wild dogs. They overrun Australia. Hunt in packs. Whenhungry, which is often, they're dangerous."

"Listen," said Sterl. "Isn't that a dismal sound? Not a yelpin it. Nor any of that long, wailing sharp cry of the coyotewhich we range riders love so well."

"A little too cool tonight to be bothered with mosquitoes,"remarked Jones. "We'll run into some farther outback. They canbite through two pair of socks."

"Gee!" said Red. "But thet's nothin' atall, Rol. We havemuskeeters in Texas--wal, I heahed about one cowboy who was alonewhen a flock of em' flew down on him. Smoke an' fire didn't helpnone. By golly, he had to crawl under a copper kettle thet thecook had. Wal, the sons-of-guns bored through the kettle. Thecowboy took his gun an' rivited their bills on the inside. An'damn me if them skeeters didn't fly away with the kettle!"

Red's listeners remained mute under the onslaught of thatstory, no doubt beginning a reversal of serious acceptance of allthe cowboy said. Sterl followed Red toward their tent.

The crackling of fire without awoke him. Dark, moving shadowson the yellow tent wall told that the teamsters werestirring.

He parted the tent flaps and went out to find it dark as pitchbeyond the blazing fires, air cold, stars like great whitelanterns through the branches, active teamsters whistling as theyhitched up the teams, fragrance of ham and tea waftingstrong.

"Morning, Hazelton," was Jones's cheery greeting. "Was justgoing to yell that cowboy call, 'Come and get it!'...We'll have agood early start." Sterl could not recall when he had faced a daywith such exuberance.

A long gradual ascent through thick bush offered no view, butthe melodious carol of magpies, the squall of the cockatoos, thesweet songs of thrush, were worth the early rising. Topping along ascent Jones drove out of the bush into the open. "KangarooFlat," said the teamster. "Thirty miles. Good road. We'll camp atthe other end tonight."

"Aw, thet's fine...Holy Mackeli, pard, air you seein' what Isee?" exclaimed Red.

Sterl was indeed, and quite speechless. A soft hazed valley,so long that the far end appeared lost in purple vagueness,stretched out beneath them, like a sea burnished with goldenfire. It was so fresh, so pure, so marvelously vivid in sunrisetones! The enchanted distances struck Sterl anew. Australia wasprodigal with its endless leagues. As the sun came up above thelow bushland a wave of flame stirred the long grass and spread onand on. The cool air blew sweet and odorous into his face,reminding him of the purple sage uplands of Utah.

Down on a level again their view was restricted to space nearat hand. A band of dingoes gave them a parting chorus where thebush met the flat. Rabbits began to scurry through the shortgray-green grass and run ahead along the road, and they increasedin numbers until there appeared to be thousands.

"One of Australia's great pests," said Jones.

"Yeah? Wal, in thet case I gotta take some pegs," replied Red,and he proceeded to raise the small caliber rifle and to shoot atrunning targets. This little rifle and full store of cartridgeshad been gifts from Sterl. Red did not hit any of the rabbits.Deadly with a handgun, as were so many cowboys, he shot onlyindifferently well with a rifle. Sterl's unerring aim, however,applied to both weapons.

Kangaroos made their appearance, sticking their heads out ofthe grass, long ears erect, standing at gaze watching the wagongo by, or hopping along ahead with their awkward yet easy gait.In some places they slowed the trotting team to a walk.

The sky was dotted with waterfowl. Jones explained there werewatercourses through the flat, and a small lake in the center,where birds congregated by the thousands. Sterl's quick eyecaught a broken' column of smoke rising from the bushland in therear.

"By golly! Red, look at that!"

"Shore I was wonderin'. How about it, Rol?"

"Black men signaling across the flat. Look over here. Theyknow all about us twenty miles ahead. The aborigines talk withsmoke."

"All the same Indian stuff," ejaculated Red.

"Stanley Dann, who's mustering this big trek, says the abo'swill be our worst obstacle," volunteered Jones.

"Has Dann made a trek before?"

"No. This will be new to all the drovers."

"Do they believe there's safety in numbers?"

"That is one reason for the large muster of men andcattle."

"Like our wagon trains crossing the Great Plains. But drivingcattle is a different thing. The Texas trail drivers found outthat ten or twelve cowboys and up to three thousand head oflonghorns moved faster, had fewer stampedes and lost fewer cattlethan a greater number."

After a short rest the cavalcade proceeded onward across therippling sea of colored grass. Herons were not new to Sterl, butwhite ibis, spoonbills, egrets, jabiru, and other wading fowlafforded him lasting wonder and appreciation. The storksparticularly caught his eye. Their number seemed incredible. Theywere mostly gray in color, huge cranelike birds, tall as a man;they had red on their heads, and huge bills. Sterl exchangedplaces with Red, and drowsy from excessive looking, went tosleep.

He was awakened by yells. Sitting up he found Red wavingwildly.

"Ostriches!...Black ostriches!" yelled Red, besidehimself..."Whoever'd thunk it?...Dog-gone my pictures!...Sterl,wake up. You're missin' somethin'."

Sterl did not need Red's extended arm to sight a line of hugeblack bird creatures, long-necked and long-legged, racing acrossthe road.

"Emu," said the teamster, laconically. "You run over themoutback."

"As I'm a born sinner heah comes a bunch of hosses!" exclaimedRed, pointing. On the range Red had been noted, even amonghawk-eyed riders and vanqueros, for his keen sight.

"Brumbies," declared Tones.

"What?--What you say?" shouted Red. "If they're not wildhorses. I'll eat 'em."

"Wild, surely. But they're brumbies," said the Australian.

Red emitted a disgusted snort. "Brumbies! Who in the hell everheahed of callin' wild hosses such an orful name?"

"Red, it is a silly name," responded Jones, with his raregrin. "I suggest we have an interchange and understanding ofnames, so you won't have to lick me."

"Wal, I reckon I couldn't lick you, at thet," retorted Red,quick as a flash to meet friendliness. "You're an orful big chap,Rol, an' could probably beat hell out of me pronto. So I'll takeyou up."

"What does pronto mean?"

"Quick. Right now...I heahed you say 'pad.' In my country apad is what you put under a saddle. What is it heah?"

"A pad is a path through the bush. A narrow single track."

"Ahuh. But thet's a trail, Rol. Say, you're gonna have funediccatin' us. Sterl heah had a mother who was a schoolteacher,an' he's one smart hombre."

The sun slanted toward the far horizon, the brightness changedto gold and rose. It was some time short of twilight when Joneshauled up at the edge of the bush, which had beckoned for so manyhours. A bare spot on the bank of a narrow slow-moving streamattested to many campfires.

"Look!" interposed Sterl, pointing at forms across the stream.They were natives, of course, but a first actual sight wasdisconcerting.

"Black man, with gin and lubra, and some kids," saidJones.

"Holy Mackeli!" ejaculated Red. "They look human--but--"

Sterl's comrade, with his usual perspicuity, had hit it. Thegroup of natives stood just at the edge of the bush. Sterl sawsix figures out in the open, but he had a glimpse of others. Theman was exceedingly tall, thin, black as coal, almost naked. Heheld a spear, upright, and it stood far above his shaggy head. Ascant beard fuzzed the lower part of his face. His big, bold,somber eyes glared a moment, then with a long stride he went backinto the bush. The women lingered curiously. The older, the"gin," was hideous to behold. The lubra, a young girl, appearedsturdy and voluptuous. Both were naked except for short grassskirts. The children were wholly nude. A harsh voice sent themscurrying into the bush.

"Gosh! I'd hate to meet thet long-laiged hombre in the dark,"said Red.

"Hope some of them come around our campfire," added Sterl,with zest.

He had his wish. After supper, about dusk, the black manappeared, a towering unreal figure. He did not have the longspear. The cook gave him something to eat; and the native, makingquick despatch of that, accosted Jones in a low voice.

"Him sit down alonga fire," replied Jones, pointing toSterl.

The black man slowly approached the fire, then stoodmotionless on the edge of the circle of light. Presently he cameup to Sterl.

"Tobac?" he asked, in a low deep voice.

"Yes," replied Sterl, and offered what he had taken theprecaution to get from his pack. At the exchange Sterl caught agood look at the native's hands, to find them surprisingly suppleand shapely. He next caught a strong body odor, which wasunpleasant.

"Sit down, chief," said Sterl, making appropriate signs. Theblack man, folding his long legs under him, appeared to sit onthem. A cigar Sterl had given him was evidently a new one on thenative. But as Sterl was smoking one, he quickly caught on.Sterl, adopting the method cowboys always used when plainsIndians visited the campfires, manifested a silent dignity. Theblack man was old--no one could have told how old. There was grayin his shaggy locks, and his visage was a map of lines thatportrayed the havoc of elemental strife. Sterl divined thoughtand feeling in this savage, and he felt intensely curious.

Jones left the other teamsters, to come over and speak to thenative.

"Any black fella close us?" he asked.

"Might be," was the terse reply.

"Me watchem smokes all alonga bush."

But the aborigine returned silence to that remark. Presentlyhe arose and stalked away in the gloom.

"Queer duck," said Red, reflectively.

"He sure interested me," replied Sterl. "All except the smellof him. Rol, do all these blacks smell that bad?"

"Some worse, some not at all. It's something they greasethemselves with."

On the fifth day, they reached the blue hills that hadbeckoned to Sterl. The wagon road wound into a region of numerouscreeks and fertile valleys where parrots and parakeets abounded.They passed by one station that day and through one little sleepyhamlet of a few houses and a store, with outlying paddocks whereSterl espied some fine horses. Camp that night offered a newexperience to the cowboys. The cook was out of beef, and Jonestook them hunting. They did not have to go far to find kangaroo,or shoot often. The meat had a flavour that Sterl thought wouldgrow on him, and Red avowed it was equal to porterhouse steak orbuffalo rump.

Two noons later Jones drove out of the jungle to the edge of along slope that afforded a view of Slyter's valley.

"That road goes on to Downsville," said Jones, pointing, "agood few miles. This road leads to Slyter's station. Water andgrass for a reasonable sized mob of cattle. But Bing has bigideas."

Presently Slyter's gray-walled, tin-roofed house came intosight, picturesquely located on a green bench with a backgroundof huge eucalyptus trees, and half hidden in a bower of goldenwattle. The hills on each side spread wider and wider, to wherethe valley opened into the range, and numberless cattle dottedthe grassy land.

Along the brook, farther down, bare-poled fences of corralscame into sight, and then a long, low, log barn, with a roof ofearth and green grass and yellow flowers, instead of the uglygalvanized iron.

"Home!" sang out Jones. "Eight days' drive! Not so bad. If wejust didn't have that impossible trek to face!"

"Wal, Rollie Tewkesbury Jones!" declared Red, gayly. "You airhuman after all. Fust time I've heahed you croak."

Sterl leaped down to stretch his cramped legs. Red called forhim to pick out a camp site up from the low ground a little,while he helped the teamsters unhitch. Sterl walked on, intendingto find a place for the tent under those yellow-blooming wattles.He heard rapid footfalls coming from somewhere. As he passed thecorner of the barn, his face turned the other way, trying tolocate whoever was running, someone collided violently with him,almost upsetting him.

He turned to see that this individual had been knocked almostflat. He thought that it was a boy because of the boots and bluepants. But a cloud of chestnut hair, tossed aside, disclosed thetanned face and flashing, hazel eyes of a girl. She raisedherself, hands propped on the ground, to lean back and look up athim. Spots of red came into her clear cheeks. Lips of the samehue curled in a smile, disclosing even, white teeth.

"Oh, miss! I'm sorry," burst out Sterl, in dismay. "I wasn'tlooking...You ran plump into me."

"Rath-thur!" she replied. "Dad always said I'd run intosomething someday. I did...I'm Leslie."

CHAPTER 3

The girl leaped erect, showing herself to be above mediumheight, lithe and strong, yet with a rounded form no boy's garbcould hide.

"You're Dad's Yankee cowboy--not the redheaded one?"

"I'm Sterl Hazelton," returned Sterl. "Glad to meet you, MissLeslie."

"Thanks, I'm glad, too. Dad has been home four days, and Icould hardly wait." She looked up at him with wonderful cleareyes that took him in from head to foot.

"I came up here to find a place for our tent. All right to putit there, under this tree?"

"Of course. But we have a spare room in the house."

"No, thank you. whisky and I couldn't sleep indoors."

"Let us go down. I want to meet whisky. Did you have a good trekoutback?"

"It was simply great. I never looked so hard and longbefore."

"Oh, now nice! You're going to like Australia?"

"I do already. And whisky can't hide from me how he likes it,too."

It chanced that they came upon whisky when his back was turned,as he was lifting bags out of the wagons.

"Red, a lady to meet you." Sterl saw him start, grow rigid,then slowly turn, to disclose a flushing, amazed face. "MissSlyter, this is my pard, Red Krehl...Red, our boss's daughter,Miss Leslie."

At this juncture Slyter, stalwart and vital in his range garb,stamped down upon them. "Roland, you made a fine drive. So,cowboys, here you are. Welcome to Australia's outback! We saw youcoming, and I sent Leslie to meet you. How are you, and did youlike the short ride out?"

"Mr. Slyter, I never had a finer ride in my life," averredSterl.

"Boss, it shore was grand," addwhisky. "But short? Ump-umm. Itwas orful long. I see right heah we gotta get so we can savvyeach other's lingo."

"That will come in time, Krehl. I'm just back from Downsville.Allan Hathaway leaves tomorrow with six drovers and a mob offifteen hundred cattle. Woolcott has mustered twelve hundred andwill follow. Stanley and Eric Dann go next day with ten droversand thirty-five hundred head. We are to catch up with them.Ormiston has three drovers and eight hundred head. He wants todrove with us. I don't know Ormiston and I'm not keen aboutjoining him. But what can I do? Stanley Dann is our leader. Ourown mob is about mustered. Now all that's left to do it pack andstart."

"Oh, Dad! I'm on pins and needles!" cried Leslie, jumping upand down, and clapping her hands.

"Slyter, how many riders--drovers have you?" queriedSterl.

"Four, not counting you cowboys. Here's Leslie, who's as goodas any drover. I'll drive our covered wagon and Bill Williams,our cook, will drive one dray. Roland, you'll have theother."

"Seven riders, counting Miss Leslie," pondered Sterl.

"I see you think that's not enough," spoke up Slyster."Hazelton, it'll have to do. I can't hire any more in thiscountry."

"Boss, how about yore remuda?" interposwhisky, anxiously.

"Remuda?"

"Excoose me, boss. Thet's Texas lingo for hosses. How manyhosses will you take?"

"We've mustered the best of my stock. About a hundred. Therest I've sold in Downville."

"Dad has the finest horses in Queensland," interruptedLeslie.

"Well, men, I'm glad to get that off my mind," concludedSlyter, with a laugh. "Roland, send Bill up to get supper.Hazelton, you boys come up when you've unpacked. Leslie, let's goback to Mum."

Sterl labored up the grassy bench, conscious of a queer littlesensation of pleasure, the origin of which he thought he hadbetter not analyze. He dropped the heavy canvas roll in thelikeliest spot, and sat down in the golden glow from the wattle.The adventure he had fallen upon seemed unbelievable. But herewas this golden-green valley, with purple sunset-gilded ranges inthe distance; there was bowleggwhisky staggering up the gentleslope with his burdens. He reached Sterl, wiped the sweat fromhis red face, and said:

"Queer deal, eh pard?"

"I should snicker to snort, as you say sometimes."

"Pard, I've a hunch these fine Australian men have no ideewhat they're up agin'. They're takin' their familees. LeastwaysSlyter is, an' this Stanley Dann. One fine hombre, accordin' toJones. Takin' his only daughter, too. Beryl Dann. Wal, it'd behard enough an' tough enough for us without a couple ofgirls...This Leslie kid. About sixteen, I'd say. But a woman, an'full of all a woman has to make men trouble."

Just before dusk, they were called to supper. They entered abig plain living room, where a fire burned in a rude stonefireplace, and a long table with steaming, savory foods invitedkeen relish. Mrs. Slyter was a buxom, pleasant woman. Leslieinherited her fine physique. However, when the girl came in,Sterl hardly recognized her in a dress. Her frank, winning gaietyoffset the mother's silence. Red brought a smile to Mrs. Slyter'sface, however, by saying that such a supper would be something toremember when he was hungry way out on the Never-never.

"Boys, in the morning first thing I want you to look over thehorses," said Slyter. "After that we'll ride over to town. Dannis keen to talk with you."

"Miss Leslie, what was thet you said about yore Dad's horses?"askwhisky.

"Dad breeds the finest stock in Australia," she replied."That's where his heart is. And mine, too. The chief reason Dadwants to cross the Never-never is because he has learned that inthe far northwest, in the country of the Kimberley's there is aperfect climate, grass and water beyond a drover's dreams."

"Sounds sweet. What air the Kimberleys?"

"Mountain ranges. Stanley Dann's brother Eric has seen them.He says they are paradise. He trekked to the Kimberleys severalyears ago. But that trek did not cross the Never-never."

"I savvy. Then thet three thousand mile drive we'reundertakin' is jest a short cut?"

"It is, really. The whole idea thrills me through andthrough."

"Shore. I can see why for a boy. But for a girl--"

"I'm tired of that Downsville school. Then I couldn't let Mumand Dad go without me."

"Yeah? But can you ride, Miss Leslie?" went on Red, drawling,quizzically.

"Please don't call me miss...Ride? I'll give you a go any day,Mister Cowboy."

"Please don't call me mister...'Course I wouldn't race you. Nogirl in the world could beat a Texas cowboy."

"I wouldn't risk any guesses or wagers," said Sterl.

"You'd better not. My horses are the finest in Queensland.We'll miss the races this fall. I'm sorry about that. All the funwe ever have here is racing."

"Yore hosses. You mean yore Dad's?" inquired Red.

"No, my own. I have ten. I'm just waiting to show you!"

When the cowboys said good night and walked toward their camp,Red inquired: "Pard, did you look Leslie over tonight?"

"I saw her, but I didn't look twice."

"Shore a fine looker in thet blue dress. She was born on ahoss all right. Did you notice she was a little less free withyou than with me?"

"No, pard, I didn't."

"Wal, she was. But thet isn't goin' to keep me from takin' mychance. Aw, I don't entertain no big hope of cuttin' you out. Inever could win any girl when you was around."

"Red, you can have them all," declared Sterl.

At day-break they were off for the paddock, laden withsaddles, bridles and blankets. Another barn marked the opening ofthe level valley. Cattle were bawling, horses whistling, thrushessinging. A heavy dew glistened upon grass and brush. Down thelane, riders mounted bareback were driving a string of horsesinto a corral.

Presently Sterl and Red were perched upon the top bar of thecorral fence, as they had been perhaps thousands of times onwestern ranches, directing keen and experienced eyes at the droveof dusty, shaggy horses. They proved to be fat, full of fire anddash, superb in every requirement. They came of a rangier,heavier, more powerful stock than the ordinary western horses,and in these particulars were markedly superior to the plainscayuse.

"Gosh-durn-it! I never seen their beat. Did we have to comeway out heah to see English stock beat the socks off ours?" saidRed.

"But, Red, good horses have to have speed and stamina,"returned Sterl, weakly.

"Hell, you can see thet in every line. Hosses gotta be thesame all over. We never knowed any but ornery-eyed, kickin',bitin' cayuses."

"Red, I remember a few that you couldn't call that. Baldy,Whiteface, Spot--and you couldn't forget Dusty--that broke hisheart and died on his feet for you."

"Shet up! I wasn't meanin' a hoss in at thousand. Lord, couldI forget the day Dusty outrun them Comanches?"

Jones sauntered over, accompanied by a brawny young man whomhe introduced as Larry. "Boss's orders are for you each to pickout five horses. Hurry now!"

"Wal, Rol, they look so darn good I don't see any sense inpickin' atall. But it's fun...Sterl, toss you for firstpick."

Red won, and his choice was the very black that Sterl had sethis heart on. Still in a moment, he burst out with enthusiasm,"There's a chestnut. Gosh, what a hoss! I pick him..."

"Here's a sorrel for me. I'll name him after you, Red. But Idon't see a black like that one you beat me to."

Leslie's rich contralto rang out from behind. "What's thatabout a black?"

"Hello. I wondered about you," replied Sterl.

"Mawnin', Leslie," drawled Red. "I kinda like you better inthem ridin' togs. Not so dangerous lookin' to a porecowboy...Looks like you been ridin' some, at thet."

Indeed she did, thought Sterl, and could not recall any ranchgirl who equaled her. Leather worn thin, shiny metal spurs thatshowed bits of horsehair, ragged trousers stuffed in high boots,gray blouse and colorful scarf, her chestnut hair in a braid downher back--these charmed Sterl, entirely aside from her gold-tancheeks with their spots of red, her curved lips, like cherries,and her flashing eyes.

"Red got first pick on me," explained Sterl. "Snitched thatblack."

"Not too bad, you cowboys," returned Leslie, her glance takingin their choice.

"You Yankees are the queerest talking people!" said Lesliewhen the cowboys had finished their horse-choosing contest. "ButI believe you'll be good cobbers. Come now, I'll show you somereal Australian horses."

Sterl had prepared himself for a treat to a horse lover'seyes, but when he looked through the fence of a corral adjoiningthe shed he could hardly credit his sight. He beheld the finesthorses he had ever seen in one bunch in his whole rangeexperience. These were not shaggy, dusty, range-free animals, butwell-groomed, sleek and shiny thoroughbreds in the pink ofcondition.

"Leslie--who takes such grand care of these horses?" gaspedSterl.

"I do--a little. But Friday does most of it. He's my blackman. Dad sent him uptown...You might say something."

"I can't, child," returned Sterl, feelingly. "Horses have beenthe most important things in my life. And these of yours! But arethey really yours, Leslie?"

"Indeed they are. Mine! I haven't anything else. Hardly a newdress to my name. A few books."

"Leslie, haven't you any beaus?" asked Sterl lightly.

"I had. But Dad shut down on them lately," replied the girl,seriously. "Not that I cared much. Only I've been lonesome."

"Wal, young lady," drawled Red, "you ain't gonna be solonesome from now on, if my hunch is correct."

"That black horse--" spoke up Sterl, pointing to a noble,rangy beast.

"That's King. He's five years old. Bred from Dad's great dam.King has won all his races the last two years. Oh, he's swift! Hethrew me last race. But we won."

"So you were up on him? Well!" rejoined Sterl, in wonder andadmiration.

"Yes, I can ride him. But Dad says no more. At least not inraces. He's too strong. Has a mouth like iron. And once runningagainst other horses, he's terrific."

"I'll have to put my hands on him," said Sterl.

"You're going to ride him, cowboy," replied the girl. "Let'sgo inside the paddock."

Red had straddled the top bar of the fence, and his silencewas eloquent. Leslie led the way inside. She called and whistled.All the horses threw up their heads, and some of them started forher. Then they trooped forward, fine heads up, manes flying.Still they halted some yards from the fence, eager, whinnying,but not trustful of the strangers.

"Come up heah, pard," called Red. "They're skeered of you.Instinct! They know you're a hard-ridin' hombre fromArizonie."

Leslie walked away from the fence somewhat, and coaxed. Aspotted iron-gray animal, clean-cut in build, was the first tocome to the girl.

"Jester," she called to him, and got hold of his mane to leadhim back to the fence. "One of my best. He's tricky--full of thedevil, but fast, tireless...Red, would you like to have him onthe trek? It would please me. I think you'd be clever enough tomatch him."

"Would I?--Aw, Leslie, that's too good of you. Why, he took myeye fust thing. But I oughtn't take him!"

"Done! He's yours. Get down and make friends with him."

Red complied with alacrity. Sterl watched as he saw thecowboy's lean brown hand, slow and sure, creep out to touch thearching, glossy neck. "Jester, you dog-done lucky hoss! Why, I'mthe kindest rider that ever threw his laig over a saddle."

"King, come here," called Leslie to the magnificent black. Butit was a beautiful bay that approached at the girl's bidding."Lady Jane, you know I'm going to ride you this morning, nowdon't you?" She petted the sniffing muzzle, and laid her cheekagainst the trim black mane. Then most of the others except Kingcame begging for her favor. She introduced them to the cowboys asif they were persons of rank--Duke, a great rangy sorrel, almostred, pride and power in every line; Duchess, a long-tailed whitemare, an aristocrat whose name was felicitous; Lord Chester, atrim gray stallion, hard to overlook even in that band.

The black still hung behind; Leslie had to go for him.

Closer at hand, his magnificent physical qualities appearedmore striking.

"King," said Leslie, impressively, "this is an Americancowboy, Sterl Hazelton, who is going to ride you--ride you, Isaid, you big devil--on our great trek."

Sterl had feared this very thing. "Leslie, don't ask me totake him--your favorite!" he protested.

"But he's not my favorite! I don't love him--well, not somuch--since he threw me. Please, Sterl!"

"I only wanted to be coaxed," rejoined Sterl, lamely. "Thanks,Leslie. It's just too good to be true...I had a horseonce..."

"Lead him out," said Leslie, then with surprising ease sheleaped upon the bare back of Lady Jane. Red followed with Jester,and Sterl gently urged the black to join them.

"King, let's look each other over," said Sterl, as he let goof the mane and squared away in front of the horse. King threw uphis noble head, and his black eyes had a piercing curiosity. Buthe was not in the least afraid. Sterl put out a confident hand torub his nose.

"Saddle up, boys," said Leslie, slipping off. "Let's get thistrip to town over. I don't mind showing you to the girls, becausethey'll be left behind, except Beryl Dann. And I just hate topresent you to her."

Sterl did not voice his surprise, but Red blurted out. "An''cause why, Leslie?"

"I'll be jealous," laughed the girl, frankly. "I'd like youboth for my cavaliers. Oh, Beryl is lovely, even if she isspoiled and proud. Her father is lord of the manor, so tospeak."

In short order they were mounted in the unfamiliar Englishsaddles, and ready to ride away. King pranced a little. Sterlsensed his tremendous, latent power.

One branch of the road turned back past the house; the other,which Leslie took, crossed the creek and wound up the slope intothe bush. Wattle trees sent a golden shade down upon them,singing cur-ra-wongs followed them.

"Bell magpies," said Leslie. "I love them almost as well asthe kookaburras. That reminds me. Dad won't let me take all mypets."

They rode on. Thick bush began to thin out; another milebrought open country, green rolling hills and vales that lookedovergrazed. Presently Sterl saw horses and cattle, and columns ofsmoke, and at length a big white house with great tin water tanksunder the eaves. He had not observed this around Slyter's house,but he had grasped that most of these Australian station ownershad to catch their water in the dry season. This was the Dannstation, just outside of town.

"There she is--Beryl," said Leslie, and waving a gauntletedhand she called. Sterl saw a fair-faced, fair-haired girl,distinguished by grace even in what was evidently the workadaydress of the moment.

"Pard, don't you reckon I oughta pull leather oot of heah?"said Red, in perturbation.

"I should smile you should," returned Sterl. "And me too!"

"Stand to your colors, men," retorted Leslie. Presently Sterlwas doffing his sombrero, and gallantly bowing to a handsomegirl, some years Leslie's senior, whose poise permittedgraciousness, yet hid curiosity.

Sterl made a pleasant little speech and Red cut in with hissouthern drawn, "Wal, Miss Dann, I shore am glad to meet anotherAustralian girl. My pard heah, Sterl an' me, have been sortaworried over this long trek an' thought of backin' out. But notno more."

Beryl Dann was neither too dignified nor too grown up not tobe pleased and flattered by what Sterl divined was anextraordinary speech to her.

As Sterl rode on with Leslie, he observed without looking backthat Red did not accompany them.

"Did you like her?" queried Leslie, a dark flash of her hazeleyes on Sterl. She was a woman; still Sterl could not react tothe situation with playful duplicity, as one impulse prompted himto.

"Yes, of course," he said, frankly. "Pretty and gracious, if alittle haughty. I wonder--has she lived out here long?"

"Yes. The Danns have been here all of five years. But Berylwent to school in Sydney. She visits there often. She's lovely!All the young men court her...Didn't you fall in love with her atfirst sight?"

"My child, I did not."

"Don't call me child," she flashed, quickly. "I'm grown up.Old enough to get married!"

"You don't say. I wouldn't have thought it," replied Sterlteasingly.

"Yes. Dad thought so. He wanted to give me to a station manover here. But I wouldn't...Red has not escaped Beryl--that'sobvious. Look back."

Sterl did so, to see the cowboy still leaning over his saddlegazing down upon the fair-haired girl.

"Sterl, I like Red," went on Leslie, confidentially. "But I'dnever let him see it. I don't know cowboys, of course. But I knowyoung men who are devils after women. And he's one. I could feelit...But I guess you're different. Sterl, I'm crazy to take thistrek. But I'm frightened. There will be twenty young men with us.I know how they can be, even trekking in to Brisbane. Eight days!My mother, Stanley Dann's sister, Beryl and I the onlywomen!..."

"Leslie, your fathers never should take you."

"But I want to go. Beryl does, too. It means new homes, newfriends, new lives...Sterl, I hope you'll be a big brother to me.Will you?"

"Thank you. I'll try," responded Sterl, sincerely. The girl'sfrank wistfulness touched him deeply. "But I'm a stranger. Imight be what Red calls no good atall."

"You might be, but I don't believe it...I like you, Sterl. I'mnot afraid of you. Mum says I'm a hoyden. But I'm sensitive.These outback men court you on sight--hug and kiss you--or tryto. Outback it's a fight for love, women, cattle--for lifeitself."

"Leslie, it's much like that on the western ranges where Icome from. I understand a little how a young girl feels."

"You are going to be a comfort, Sterl," she said, happily."Here we are, right in town. And there comes Red, putting Jesterto a canter...There's where I went to school...Oh, I forgotsomething I wanted to tell you. Do you remember Dad mentioning adrover, Ashley Ormiston?"

"Yes. He is the man Mr. Dann wants your Dad to throw inwith."

"Sterl, I don't like the idea at all. Mr. Ormiston is new toDownsville. You'll meet him today, so I don't need to describehim. But he has been very much in evidence since the races. I methim that day, and to be honest I was fascinated. Sterl; he--heinsulted me that very first night. I've tried to avoid him eversince."

"Have you told your father?" queried Sterl.

"I dare not," she replied, simply.

At that moment Red caught up with them.

"Let's tie up here," Leslie said, halting. "Now boys, you huntup Dad. He'll be somewhere, waiting for you. Stanley Dann wantsto meet you. Be good. Don't drink--or forget you're mycowboys."

They turned a corner to reach a point opposite a large store,in front of which had collected a crowd, mostly men, all tryingto get out of the way of a conflict of some kind. Then Sterl sawa white man kick an aborigine into the street. He heard a womancry out that it was Slyter's black man, Friday.

Sterl stepped out of the crowd and off from the pavement. Thena white man, agile and powerful, leaped into the street to kickthe black viciously, knocking him flat.

Striding over, Sterl placed a hard hand against the aggressorand shoved him back, far from gently.

The man straightened up. He was a dark-browed, handsome fellowof about thirty, garbed as a drover.

"What business--of yours?" he panted, hoarsely.

"I just thought you'd kicked that black enough," declaredSterl, deliberately.

"Who are--you?" demanded the other, his dark eyes burning.Sterl caught a strong odor of whisky.

"No matter. I'm a newcomer."

"Damned, meddling, Yankee blighter," shouted the Australian,and with a backhanded sweep he struck Sterl a blow across themouth that staggered him.

Recovering his balance, Sterl leaped forward, and gave hisantagonist a sudden blow low down, then swung his right fist hardand fierce at those malignant eyes, and felled him like a bullockunder the ax.

Red lined up alongside his comrade. The buzzing circle crowdedinto the street. Sterl, to his dismay, espied Leslie's pale face.Then her father dragged her back and strode out, accompanied by atawny-haired giant, leonine in build and mien.

Slyter gazed at the prostrate man, who was stirring, and fromhim to the black. "Friday! Who hit you?"

"Boss, that one fella," replied the black, and pointed to hisbrutal attacker.

"Dann, it's Ash Ormiston!" ejaculated Slyter.

"I see. Looks as if a horse kicked him...Here you, what doesthis mean?" boomed the giant, wheeling upon Sterl.

Red intervened, cool and wary. "Watch thet hombre, pard. Hemight have a gun."

"Krehl!" exclaimed Slyter. "Did you slug, Ormiston?"

"No, Sterl did thet. But I'd have liked to."

"Stanley, these are my two American cowboys, Krehl andHazelton."

"Drunk and rowing, eh?" queried Dann. Sterl confronted Dann,and he was not in a humor to be conciliatory.

"No, I'm not drunk," he rang out. "It's your country-man whois that. I came upon him kicking this black man, Friday. Kickinghim in the face and chest! I interfered. He called me a damned,meddling Yankee blighter and hit me. Then I soaked him."

"Friday, what you do alonga Ormiston?" asked Slyter,gruffly.

"Black fella tellum bimeby," replied Friday, and stalked intothe crowd, where Sterl saw Leslie try to stop him and fail.

Meanwhile Ormiston staggered to his unsteady feet, one of hiseyes beginning to puff.

"Where's that ---- Yankee who hit me?" he bit out.

Dann laid a restraining hand on him. "Man, you're drunk."

Sterl confronted him. "Go for your gun if you've got one."

Ormiston violently threw Dann off.

Dann waved the crowd back. "Get off the street!" heroared.

CHAPTER 4

If Ormiston had a gun concealed on his person, he made no moveto draw it. Sterl's hand dropped back to his side.

"I'll not exchange shots--with a Yankee tramp," pantedOrmiston.

"No. But you're not above kicking a poor black when he'sdown," replied Sterl.

Red again slouched over to Sterl's side. "Haw! Haw!" His hard,mirthless laugh rang with scorn. "Orful particular, ain't you,Mr. Ormiston, about who you throw a gun on? Wal, you got somesense, at thet."

"Dann, you're magistrate here!" shouted Ormiston. "Order theseYankees out of town."

"You're drunk, I told you," replied Dann. "You started afight, then failed to go through with it."

"No, I didn't. I only kicked that snooping black. This Yankeestarted it...I'll not engage in a gun fight with a foreignadventurer," replied Ormiston in hoarse haste.

"Mister, why don't you pull thet gun I see inside yore coat?"drawled Red.

"Dann, order these Yankees to leave," repeated Ormiston,stridently.

"No. You're making a fool of yourself," declared Dann. "Slyterhas hired these cowboys to help him on the trek."

"Slyter, is that true--you're taking these cowboys?"

"Yes, I've hired them."

"Will you discharge them?"

"No, I certainly will not."

"Then I refuse to take my drovers and my mob of cattle onDann's trek."

"Ormiston, I don't care a damn what you do," said Slyter.

Ormiston made a forceful and passionate gesture, thenshouldered his way through the crowd to disappear.

Slyter lost no time in getting to Sterl and Red and draggedthem with him across the pavement into a store. Dann strode afterthem. And there the four men faced each other.

"Gentlemen, I'm terribly sorry," began Sterl. "It's just toobad that I had to mess up your plans at the last moment. But Icouldn't stand for such dirty, low-down brutality."

"Pard," drawled Red, coolly rolling a cigarette. "If youhadn't been so damn quick I'd have busted Ormiston myself."

Dann stroked his golden beard with a massive hand, and hispenetrating eyes studied the cowboys.

"It was unfortunate," he began, "Ormiston had been drinking.But I'll swear the black absolutely did not deserve that kicking.Friday is the best native I ever knew. He's honest, loyal,devoted to Leslie, who was good to his gin when she laydying."

Red eased forward a step, in his slow way. "Mr. Dann, I'd liketo ask you, without meanin' offense, if there ain't Englishmenheah an' there who's jest no good atall?"

Dann let out a deep laugh that was convincing. "There are,cowboy, and you can lay to that."

"Wal, I'm glad to heah you admit it. If I ever met a low-downhombre thet Ormiston is one. Mebbe it wouldn't have been so easyto see through--him but for the drink. No, Ormiston is jest nogood atall--an' he come damn near bein' a daid one."

"Tell me, Hazelton," spoke up Dann, his amber eyes full oflittle, dancing glints, "if Ormiston had moved to draw hisrevolver--what would you have done?"

"I'd have killed the fool," declared Sterl.

"Indeed!--Did you see that Ormiston was armed?"

"No. But I knew it...Now, Slyter, I think the thing for Redand me to do is to leave town at once."

"You will do nothing of the kind," rejoined Slyter,stoutly.

"Boys, it's not to be thought of," added Dann. "Ormiston wasbluffing. He won't quit us. Like all of us he sees a way towealth. And we need him with us. The more drovers, the morecattle, the better our chances for success."

"Mr. Dann, I see the necessity for you. But if Red and Igo--we'll clash with Ormiston."

"Listen, you young gamecocks," went on Dann, persuasively."Outback there will be too much clash with the elements and theblacks for us drovers to fight among ourselves. We'll all bebrothers before we reach the Never-never. Isn't that so,Bing?"

"It has been proved by other treks," replied Slyter,earnestly. "If you boys are concerned about me or Leslie--justforget that and take the risk."

"Boss, we'll never throw you down," said Red.

"We will go," added Sterl, and his tone was a pledge. "Buthave you ever driven cattle into a hard wilderness, months onend, against all the hard knocks a desolate country can dealyou?"

"No, Hazelton, we have never been on a real trek," Dannreplied. "But my brother Eric has. He slights the hardshipseither because he is callous, unfeeling, or because he doesn'twant me to know. In fact, Eric has failed after several starts inQueensland."

"Do you want my advice?"

Dann nodded his leonine head. "Indeed yes! It's too late now,even if I would back out. Hazelton, perhaps Providence sent yourangemen to help us. To get down to fundamentals, tell us justwhat kind of range you have driven mobs of cattle over--howfar--what kind of obstacles--how you worked."

"That's easy, gentlemen, and you can believe what I tell you,"replied Sterl. "Some years ago, just after the Civil War, Texaswas overrun with millions of longhorn cattle. The ranchers had nohome market. A rancher named Chisholm conceived the idea ofdriving herds of cattle from southern Texas across the plains toKansas. Chisholm started out with over three thousand head ofcattle and twelve riders. He made it--five hundred miles--insomething over ninety days, losing four cowboys and two thousandhead of cattle. But he sold what was left at a huge profit. HisChisholm Trail inaugurated trail driving in Texas.

"As for hardships--in that early day fifty million buffaloranged from the Gulf to the Dakotas. For years stampedes ofbuffalo were the worst obstacles the trail drivers had toovercome. Next to that were the attacks and raids of savageIndians. There were rivers to ford, some of them big and wide,often in flood. In dry years there were long drives from water towater. Thunderstorms often stampeded herds. Dust storms,sandstorms were terrible to drive against. In the fall andwinter, the Del Notre, the freezing gale that blew out of a clearsky, was something the riders hated and feared. Lastly there camerustling--the era of the cattle thieves, which is in its heydayright now."

"Wonderful! Wonderful!" exclaimed Dann, his eyes shining."Jesse Chisholm was a man after my heart. A savior of Texas,yes?"

"Indeed he saved Texas and built the cattle empire."

Red emitted a cloud of smoke, and drawled: "Boss, I rode forJesse once. He was a great hombre. Harder than the hinges on thegates of hell! Sometime I'll tell you stories about him, onething special, his jingle-bob brand, thet was so famous."

"Boys, I'll enjoy your stories, when time permits," boomed thedrover. "I thank the good Lord for sending you to Australia!Hazelton, one thing more. How did you drive your mobs?"

"We rounded them up into a great triangle, with the apexpointing in the direction we had to go. 'Pointing the herd,' thatwas called. Two of the nerviest cowboys had the lead at thepoint. The mass of cattle would follow the leads. Two cowboys oneach side at the center of the herd, the rest at the broad basewhere stragglers and deserters--'drags' we called them--had to bewatched and driven."

"Were you one of those cowboys who rode at the head?" queriedDann.

"No, but Red was, always. I was a good hand after thedrags."

"Shake hands with me, cowboys," bellowed Dann. "Slyter, I'llorder my drovers to start my mob tomorrow, positively. I'll tellOrmiston to go or stay, as he chooses...Meet us soon out on thetrek. Good-by."

Sterl became aware that the store was full of inquisitivepeople. He and Red were the cynosure of all eyes. Red enjoyedsuch attention, but Sterl hated it, especially, as had happenedso often, when he had just engaged in a fight. He shivered whenhe thought how closely he had come to shooting Ormiston. He hadhoped Australia had not bred the type of bad man among whom hehad been compelled to work.

Leslie met him outside with her arms full of packages. Sterland Red promptly relieved her of them. After one look at Leslie'swhite face and eyes blazing almost black, Sterl felt too dismayedto speak. She had witnessed his encounter with Ormiston. As shewalked along between him and Red, she had a hand on Sterl's arm.They came to a point opposite the horses.

"Heah we air, Jester, agonna make a pack hoss out of you fustthing," spoke up Red, and Sterl knew that the cowboy was talkingto ease the situation.

"Leslie, have you finished your buying?" asked Sterl.

"Not quite. But I'll not stay longer--in town," she replied inthick unsteady tone. She mounted her horse as Sterl rememberedseeing Comanches mount. "Let me have some of the parcels."

Handing these to her, Sterl looked up into her face.

"Leslie--you were there?" he asked.

"Yes. I saw it--all."

"I'm sorry. Bad luck like that always hounds me."

"Who said it was bad luck?" she retorted. "But Sterl--youjumped at that chance to hit Ormiston--on my account?"

"Well--Friday's first--and then yours. Still I'd haveinterfered if I'd never heard of either of you. I'm built thatway, Leslie."

"You're built greatly, then...A thrill hardly does justice towhat I felt--when you hit him...But, afterward--when it lookedlike shooting--I nearly fainted."

"So that's why you're so pale?" rejoined Sterl, endeavoring tospeak lightly, as he mounted. Red rode a tactful distanceahead.

"Am I pale?" she asked.

"Not so much now. But a few minutes back you were white as asheet."

"Sterl, I ran into Ormiston."

"And what did he say?"

"I don't remember everything. One thing, though, was what youcalled him."

"That's not calculated to make Ormiston love me anybetter."

"Do you think he'll make good his threat not to go on thetrek?"

"I do not," said the girl, positively. "Ash Ormiston couldn'tbe kept from going. I wouldn't say wholly because he's so keenafter Beryl Dann and me."

"Beryl too? Well!...He's what Red would call an enterprisingagent."

"He's deep, Sterl. I distrust his attitude toward thetrek."

"Leslie, what had he against your black man?"

"He had enough. I should have told you that...Once when Mumand Dad were in town, Ormiston found me in my hammock. He madeviolent love to me. I was scared, Sterl. He...I...I foughthim--and Friday ran up with his spear. It was all I could do tokeep him from killing Ormiston."

"Is Friday going on the trek?"

"Dad wants him. To track lost horses. The blacks are marveloustrackers. But Friday says no. Maybe you can persuade him, Sterl.A black never forgets a wrong or fails to return a service."

"I sure will try. What a lot I could learn!"

They rode on at a canter and halted at the paddock. "Come uplater for tea--oh, yes, and to see my pets," said Leslie, as theydismounted and gathered up her bundles.

Left to his own devices, Sterl went among his string ofhorses, which Roland had tethered in the shed, and while he setabout the slow and pleasing task of making friends with them, hemused over the momentous journey from Brisbane. He could no morekeep things from happening to him than he could stop breathing.But he recalled only one man, out of the many rustlers and hardcharacters who had crossed his trail, who had incited as quick ahatred in him, as had this man Ormiston. If possible, he mustkeep out of the man's way. Offsetting that was the inspiringpersonality of Stanley Dann. Here was a man. And Sterl did notpass by the fair-haired Beryl, with her dark-blue eyes and theproud poise of her head. Leslie was appealing in many ways, butthe charm she had, which he found vaguely sweet and disquieting,was the fact of his apparent appeal of her, of which she waswholly unconscious. Well, he was in the open again, already incontact with raw nature, about to ride out on this incredibletrek. That was all left him in life--this strenuous action of thenatural man. Sterl discounted any lasting relation with thesegood white folk who needed him.

When he returned to the tent, Sterl found Red sitting beforethe flap, profoundly thoughtful and solemn. He had not even heardSterl's approach.

"Pard, did you heah anythin'?" he asked, almost in awhisper.

"Hear?--When?"

"Jest about a minnit ago--mebbe longer. I don't know. I'mdotty...Did I have any drinks uptown?"

"You sure didn't."

"Gosh, I'm shore I've got the willies...Sterl, I was in thetent heah, when somebody busted out in a laugh--snortinesthosslaugh you ever heahed. 'Who'n hell's laughin' at me'?' Isaid, an' I was mad. Wal, pard, you never in yore life heahedsuch a loud brayin'-ass laugh. When the smart alec got through Icome out to bust him. Seen nobody. Then I seen a big brown an'white bird, sittin' right there on thet branch. Stuck his haid onone side an' looked out of his devilish black eyes at me, as ifto say, 'Heah's one of them Yankee blighters.'...If thet birddidn't give me thet hosslaugh, then yore pard has gone plumbstark ravin' crazy."

"Let's go up and ask Leslie."

On the way up the path under the wattles they met her. Redburst into the narrative of his perplexing experience. Leslieburst into uncontrollable mirth.

"Oh--Oh! It was--Jack," she choked out. "Jack who?"

"My pet kookaburra--Oh, Red!--my laughing jackass!"

"Wal, I figgered he was a laughin' hyena, all right! But thetpet kooka somethin'--thet has me beat."

"Jack is our most famous bird. He is a kind of giantkingfisher. I'm taking him on the trek, but I can't take mylittle bears. It breaks my heart--Come in to tea." At the doorLeslie whispered to Sterl. "I didn't tell Mum about what happeneduptown."

Slyter had not returned, nor did his wife expect him. "I'm tooterribly busy to chat," she said, after serving them, anddrinking a cup of tea. "Les, I wanted Friday to carry things downto the wagon. Have you seen him?"

"I'll find him, Mum."

"Mrs. Slyter," said Sterl when the party settled down. "I'dlike a look at your wagon while it's empty. We must make a boatout of it, so that it can be floated across the rivers."

"How thoughtful of you! That had not occurred to Bingham."

"We'll fix up a little room in the front of your wagon, behindthe seat," went on Sterl. "I've done that before. A wagon can bemade really comfortable, considering all your baggage..."

Suddenly they were interrupted by a discordant, concatenated,rollicking laugh from outside.

"Jack saucing other kookaburras," declared Leslie. "Come andsee him."

They went outdoors. The black man Friday stood under one ofthe gum trees, looking up into the branches, and holding out aqueer stick with a white oval end. In his other hand he held outa long spear.

"Friday has his wommera--the stick he uses to throw hisspear," said Leslie, gravely. "That doesn't look so good forOrmiston."

Just then a large brown and white bird fluttered down from thetree to alight on the black's spear. "There's Jack," criedLeslie. He was a rather short bird, built heavily forward, with abig head and strong bill.

Sterl's attention shifted to the black man. He was well oversix feet tall, slender, muscular, black as ebony. He wore a crudegarment around his loins. His dark visage held an inscrutabledignity.

Sterl went up to Friday, tapped him on his deep breast andasked, "Friday no hurt bad?" The native understood, for hegrinned and shook his head.

"Leslie, you ask him to go with us on the trek."

"Friday, white man wantum you go with him, far, far that way,"said Leslie, making a slow gesture which indicated immeasurabledistance toward the outback. Friday fastened great, blackunfathomable eyes upon Sterl.

"White man come from far country, away cross big water," saidSterl, pointing toward the east, and speaking as if to an Indian."He need Friday--track horse--kill meat--fight--tell where padsgo."

"Black fella go alonga you," replied Friday.

Leslie clapped her hands. "Good-o! I was sure he'd go, if youasked him," she cried. "Dad will be happy!"

Red slouched over to Friday and handed him a cigar.

"You close up boss?" asked the black, looking from one to theother.

"Shore, Friday," replied Red.

"You um fadder?"

"Fadder? Hell no!...Gosh, do I look thet old? Him my brudder,Friday.

"Black fella im brudder your brudder," declared Friday,loftily, and stalked away.

CHAPTER 5

It turned out that Leslie's freeing of her native bear petswas merely a matter of saying good-by to them, for they were notconfined. They lived in the trees of a small eucalyptus groveback of the house. Sterl enjoyed the sensation of holding some ofthem, of feeling their sharp, strong, abnormally large clawscling to his coat. The one that pleased Sterl most was a motherthat carried her baby in a pouch. The little one had his headstuck out, and his bright black eyes said that he wanted to seeall there was to see.

Gently but firmly Leslie drew the little bear from the pouchand placed it on the mother's back, where it stuck like a burrand appeared perfectly comfortable. Sterl never saw a prettieranimal sight, and said so emphatically.

"Marsupials!" said Leslie. "All sorts of them down under, fromkangaroos to a little blind mole no longer than my finger."

"Well I'm a son of a gun!" exclaimed Red. "What's amarsupial?"

This started Leslie on a lecture concerning Australian mammalsand birds. When she finished with marsupials, which carry theirbabies in a pouch, and came to the unbelievable platypus whichwears fur, suckles its young, lays eggs and has a bill like aduck and web feet fastened on backward, she stretched Red'scredulity to the breaking point.

"How can you stand there, a sweet pictoor of honest girlhood,and be such an orful liar? How about thet liar bird Jones saidyou could show us?--the wonderfulest bird in Australia!"

"Rightho! Boys, if you'll get up early, I'll promise you shallhear a lyrebird, and maybe see one."

"It's a date, Leslie, tomorrow mawnin'. Right heah. Hey,pard?"

"You bet." said Sterl, "And now let's get to work making thatwagon."

The wagon, which Slyter intended for his womenfolk and alltheir personal effects, was big and sturdy, with wide-tiredwheels, high sides, and a roomy canvas top stretched over hoops.Sterl examined it carefully.

"How about in water an' sand?" queried Red, dubiously.

"In deep water she'll float--when we fix her. Red, dig up acouple of chisels and hammers while I get something to calk theseseams."

In short order they had the wagon bed so that it would notleak. Then, while Red began the same job on the other wagon,Sterl devoted himself to fixing up some approach to aprairie-schooner tent dwelling. Sterl had Leslie designate thebags and trunks which would be needed en route; with these hepacked the forward half of the wagon bed two feet deep. Then hetransformed the rear half into a bedroom.

Slyter arrived with the dray, and climbed off the driver'sseat to begin unhitching. His face was dark, his brow lined andpondering.

"Roland, pack all the flour on top of this load and tie on acover," said Slyter. "Hazelton, how's the work progressing?"

"We're about done. Hope nothing more came off uptown?"

"Testy day. Just my personal business...You'll be interestedin this. Ormiston sobered up and tried to get back into our goodgraces. Stanley Dann accepted his apologies."

"Then Ormiston will go on the trek?"

"Yes. He said to tell you he had been half drunk, and wouldspeak to you when opportunity afforded. But he asked me if youcowboys had any references!"

"I was surprised that you did not ask for any."

"I didn't need any. Nor did Stanley Dann. Ormiston was tryingto sow seeds of discord."

"Thank you, Slyter. I'm sure you'll never regret yourkindness."

"Hathaway and Woolcott left about midday," went on Slyter."Some of their drovers were drunk. The Danns are all ready toleave at dawn. We'll start tomorrow sometime."

"How about waterholes?"

"No fear. We've had a few good rains lately. There'll beplenty of water--maybe too much--and grass all the way out ofQueensland. Stanley Dann and his brother Eric had another hotargument. Eric was one of the drovers who made that Gulf trek. Hewants to stick to that route. But Stanley argues we should leaveit beyond the Diamantina River and head northwest more directlyacross the Never-never. I agree with him."

It was dim gray morning when, keeping their engagement withLeslie, the Americans mounted the shadowy aisle leading up to thehouse.

They found her waiting with Friday. "Aren't you ashamed?You're late...Come. Don't talk. Don't make the slightestsound."

They followed Friday, a shadow in the gray gloom. The east wasbrightening. Presently, Friday glided noiselessly into the bush.Gradually it grew lighter. Soft mist hung low under thepale-trunked trees. They came to a glade that led down into aravine where water tinkled. It opened out wide upon a scene ofveiled enchantment. Small trees, pyramid shape, pointed up to thebrightening sky, and shone as white as if covered by frost. Greatfern trees spread long, lacy, exquisite leaves from a symmetricalhead almost to the ground. Huge eucalyptus sent marble-likepillars aloft. Their fragrance attacked Sterl's nostrils with anacute, strangling sensation. A bell-like note struck lingeringlyupon his ear. Friday halted. As he lifted his hand with thegesture of an Indian, Sterl heard the lovely call of a thrushnear at hand. Leslie put her lips right on Sterl's ear. "It isthe lyrebird!" Then it seemed to Sterl that his tingling earscaught the songs of other birds, intermingled with that of thethrush. Suddenly a bursting cur-ra-wong, cur-ra-wong shot throughSterl.

Could that, too be the lyrebird? The note was repeated againand again, so full of wild melody that it made Sterl ache. It wasfollowed by caw, caw, caw, the most dismal and raucous note of acrow.

"Don't you understand, boys?" whispered Leslie, bending herhead between them. "The lyrebird is a mocker. He can imitate anysound."

That sweet concatenation of various bird notes was disruptedby what seemed to be the bawling of a cow.

From off in the woods sounded a mournful, rich note, like thedong of a bell.

"Another! Oh, but we're lucky!" whispered Leslie.

Across a little leafy glade, Sterl noticed low foliage moveand part to admit a dark brown bird, half the size of a henturkey. It had a sleek, delicate head. As it stepped daintily outfrom under the foliage, its tail, erect and exquisite, describedthe perfect shape of a lyre. Long, slender, fernlike feathersrose and spread from the two central feathers--broad, darkvelvety brown, barred in shiny white or gray, with gracefulcurling tips that bowed and dipped as it passed out of sight intothe bush.

"Wal," said Red, "yore lyrebird has our mockers skinned to afrazzle."

"That must mean something!" returned Leslie, giggling. "Come.We'll be late and Dad will row. Let's run."

When they went in to breakfast, Roland and Larry were leaving,sober as judges. Bill Williams, the cook, was banging pots andpans with unnecessary force. Slyter looked as if he were going toa funeral, and his wife was weeping. Leslie's smile vanished. Sheserved the cowboys, who made short work of that meal.

"Boss, what's the order for today?" queried Sterl,shortly.

"Drake's mustering for the trek," replied Slyter, gruffly.

Leslie followed them out. "I'll catch up somewhere. I'd gowith you now, but Mum...Ride King and Jester, won't you?"

Sterl found difficulty in expressing his sympathy. The girlwas brave, though deeply affected by her mother's grief. Itreally was a terrible thing to do--this forsaking a comfortablehome in a beautiful valley, to ride out into the unknown andforbidding wilderness.

King surprised Sterl with his willingness to be saddled andbridled. He knew he was leaving the paddock, and liked it. Sterltied on the slicker and canteen, and slipped into his wornleather chaps, conscious of a quickening of his pulse. He took uphis rifle and walked around in front of the horse. "Are you gunshy, King?" The black apparently knew a rifle, and showing nofear, stood without a quiver while Sterl shoved it into thesaddle sheath.

"Say, air you a mud hen, thet you go duckin' jest 'cause I'vegot a gun?" Red was complaining to his horse.

In another moment they were in the unfamiliar English saddles.Joining Larry, they rode out into the open valley. Ahead of them,about a mile out of the widening valley, a herd of grazinghorses, and beyond them Slyter's cattle, added the last link tothe certainty of the trek.

Waiting this side of the horses were three riders, superblymounted. Their garb, and the trappings of the horses, appearedmarkedly different from those of the Americans. Sterl had made uphis mind about these riders of Slyter's; still he gave each akeen scrutiny. Drake was middle-aged, honest and forcible ofaspect, strong of build. The other two, Benson and Heald, weresturdy young men not out of their teens, and sat their saddles asif used to them.

"Drake, we have Slyter's orders to report to you," addedSterl, after the introductions.

"I've sent Monkton on ahead to let down the bars," repliedDrake. "We fenced the valley ahead there where it narrows. I'lljoin him. You men bring up the rear."

"No particular formation?"

"Just let the mob graze along at a walk. We'll keep right ontill Slyter halts us, probably at Blue Gum."

Drake said no more, and rode away to the left, accompanied byHeald, while Benson trotted off to the right.

"Huh! Short an' sweet. All in the day's work," complainedRed.

"Red, you ought to be in front," said Sterl, "but, no doubt,that'll come in time."

In another moment Sterl was alone. He lighted a cigarette.King pranced a little and wanted to go. Sterl patted the archedneck, and fell at once into his old habit of talking to hishorse. "King, we don't know each other yet. But if you're as goodas you look, we'll be pards. Take it easy. I see you're too welltrained to graze with a bridle on. You can unlearn that,King."

He was to ride across a whole unknown continent, from whichjourney, even it he survived it, he would never return. Sterlfaced the east. And he could not keep back a farewell whisper:"Good-by, Nan...Good-by!" which seemed final and irrevocable.

When he turned again, prompted by the keen King, the long lineof cattle was on the move. The great trek had begun. The valleywas filled with a rich, thick, amber light. Fleecy white cloudssailed above the green line of bush. The gold of wattles and thescarlet of eucalyptus stood out vividly even in the brilliance ofthe sun-drenched foliage. A faint and failing column of smokerose above the forsaken farmhouse, that seemed to have gone tosleep among the wattles. A glancing gleam of tranquil,reed-bordered pond caught Sterl's sight. All this pastoralbeauty, this land of flowers and grass and blossoming trees, thisland of milk and honey, was being abandoned for the chimera ofthe pioneer!

CHAPTER 6

First camp! A huge dead gum tree, bleached and gnarled,marking a sunset-flushed stream; outcropping rock and junglebeyond; to the right lanes of open country opening into the bush.Cattle and horses made for the creek and spread along its lowbank for a mile. When they had drunk their fill some of thecattle fell to grazing, while many or them lay down to rest. Thehorses, which had fed all day behind the cattle, trooped back totheir grazing. In Sterl's judgment both would require littlenight guarding on such pasture as that.

He watered King, then rode down the creek into camp. Pungentwood smoke brought back other camp scenes. But no other camp sitehe could remember had possessed such an imposing landmark as thegreat dead blue gum tree. On its spreading branches Sterlidentified herons, parrots, a hawk perched on a topmost tip,kookaburras low down. The wagons were spaced conveniently, thoughnot close together. Locating his own, Sterl dismounted to stripKing and let him go. He was unrolling his tent when Leslieapproached.

"Well, so here you are? I wondered if you'd ever catch up,"said Sterl.

"I hadn't the heart to leave Mum today. I...I...I would havebeen all right, but for her."

"Why you're all right anyhow, Leslie. Don't look back--don'tthink back!...Our first camp's dandy...Where're Friday and yourDad?"

"Friday walked all the way. I rode a little. Mum came out ofit all at once. Dad is all fit. He and Drake just had a drop froma bottle...And here come Red and Larry."

Sterl with Leslie crossed over to the center of camp, whereFriday was carrying water. Slyter, after rummaging under seat ofhis wagon, brought a book to Leslie.

"Les, one of your jobs is keeping our journal. Record date,distance trekked, weather, incident, everything."

"Whew! what a job!" exclaimed Leslie. "But I'll love it...Howfar today?"

"A long trek. Sixteen miles?" asked Slyter, dubiously.

"And then some," interposed Sterl. "Ask Red. He's a wonderfuljudge of distance...Now, boss, how about night guard?"

"Three changes. Two men on for three hours each. Eight toeleven, eleven to two, two till five. Which watch would you andKrehl like?"

"The late one, boss. We're used to the wee small hours."

"You'll have our black man, Friday. Hazelton, you'll find hima tower of help."

The thud of horses hoofs awoke Sterl before Larry called intothe tent: "Two o'clock, boys. Roll out."

Ready to go, the cowboys repaired to the fire for the teaLarry had poured for them. It was scalding hot and strong asacid. The band of horses was huddled between camps and the mob ofcattle. They were quiet, only a few grazing. The cattle hadbedded down.

"What'll we do, Sterl? Circle or stand guard?"

"Circle, Red, till we get the lay of the herd."

Red rode on into the bright starlight, and the cold windbrought back the smoke of his cigarette. Sterl turned to walk hishorse in the other direction. Old sensorial habits reassertedthemselves--the keen ear, the keen eye, the keen nose and thefeel of air, wind, cold. The cattle and the horses were quiet.Strange, discordant barks of dingoes lent unreality to the wild.Wide-winged birds or flying foxes passed over his head with silkyswish.

In half an hour Sterl heard Red's horse before he sighted it,a moving, ghostly white in the brilliant gloom.

"Fine setup, pard," said Red. "A lazy cowboy job!"

"All well on my side. Go halfway round and stand watch."

"Air kinda penetratin', pard. I reckon I'll mosey to an' fro,"returned Red, and rode on.

When Sterl reached the end of a half circle, came the voice ofFriday, "Cheeky black fella close up," he said, and vanished.

Sterl swept his gaze in wary half circles. Further outback,this night watch might be a perilous duty. But nothing happened.Friday did not return, although Sterl had a feeling that theblack was close. Slowly, mysteriously, the dreaming darkest hourpassed.

At the first faint lighting in the east the cattle began tostir. Sterl circled around to meet Red. "Mawnin'," said thatworthy. "J'ever see such a tame bunch of cattle? How'd you makeout?"

"Just killed time. This sort of work will spoil us. It's afterfive. Let's ride in."

Breakfast was awaiting them. Two of the wagons were alreadyhitched up. Leslie stood by the fire, drinking tea. Larry cameriding up, leading three saddled horses, one of which wasDuchess, Leslie's favorite.

Red saw the girl swing up into her saddle with one hand, andsaid, "Pard, I gotta hand it to thet kid. If Beryl is like her,wal, it's all day with me."

When they rode out on fresh horses the sun had just burst overthe eastern bush, and the downs were as if aflame. Drake had themob ready. Leslie and Larry were driving the straggling horses.Red loped across the wide flank to take up his position on thefar right. Friday came along with giant strides, carrying hisspears and wommera in his left hand and a boomerang in the other.Leslie rode loping back to turn on the line even with Sterl. Thenthe four rear riders, pressing forward, drove the horses upon theheels of the cattle, and the day's drive was on. The bustle andhurry before the start seemed to come to an abrupt end in theslow, natural walk of grazing cattle and horses.

Three times before afternoon, Leslie rode over to Sterl onsome pretext or other, the last of which was an offer to share abit of lunch she had brought.

"No thanks, Leslie. A cowboy learns to go without. And on thistrek in particular, I'm going to emulate your black men."

"I suppose you cowboys live without fun, food or--love?" shequeried, flippantly.

"We do indeed."

"Like hob you do," she flashed. "Oh, well maybe you do. Thisis the third time you've snubbed me so far today. You're an oldcrosspatch."

Sterl laughed, though he felt a little nettled. The girlinterrupted the even, almost unconscious ebb and flow of hissensorial perceptions.

"I've been called worse than that, by sentimental youngladies," replied Sterl, satirically. "Would you expect me tobabble poetry to you or listen to your silly chatter?"

"Oh-h!" cried Leslie, outraged, reddening from neck to brow.And she wheeled her horse to lope far along the line toward Red."That should hold her awhile," murmured Sterl, regretfully. "Toobad I've got to be mean to her! But..."

Slyter halted for camp at the foot of a ridge running out likea spur from the rougher bushland. Manifestly a stream came fromaround that ridge. It was no later than midafternoon with the sunstill warm. A short trek, Sterl thought. Cattle and horses madefor the stream, which turned out to be a river that could not beforded with wagons at this point.

Sterl was pitching his tent when Red and Leslie rode in. Thegirl rode by him as if he had not been there.

Red slid out of his saddle in his old inimitable way, and withslap on flank, sent his horse scampering.

"About ten miles, I'd say," he drawled. "Slick camp an' ahefty river...Say, pard, what'n'll did you do to the kid? Lesliewas all broke up."

"She bothers me, Red."

"Ahuh. I savvy. I'm feared she likes you an' hasn't no idee atall about it."

Sterl remained silent, revolving in his mind a realizationprompted by Red's talk--that he had felt a distinct throb ofpleasure. This would never do!

The cowboys finished their chores, then strolled over toSlyter. Leslie sat near, writing in her journal.

On impulse, Sterl turned to the girl. "Leslie, where isFriday?" As she did not appear to hear, he asked her again. Thenshe looked up. "Please do not annoy me, Mr. Hazelton. I'mcomposing poetry," she said coldly.

CHAPTER 7

The late afternoon hour arrived at length when Slyter caughtup with the Dann brothers and their partners. From here thedrovers would push on together to the end.

Slyter led his mob to the left and hauled up on the wide curveof a stream. In the center, half a mile from Slyter, the Dannencampment, with its ten wagons, and drays, its canvas tentsbright against the green, its blue smokes and active figures,made an imposing sight, to Sterl's eyes like a plains caravan.Farther to the right showed the camp of Hathaway and Woolcott.Hundreds of horses grazed in between. Across the river flamed theenormous mob of cattle which the drovers had evidently throwntogether--twice as much stock as Sterl had ever seen at onetime.

With Slyter's mob and remuda placed to rest and graze, thedrivers made toward camp by divers routes. Sterl arrived first.The black horse, King, had completed his conquest over thecowboy. They had taken to each other. King recognized a gentle,firm and expert master; Sterl reluctantly crowned the black forspirit, tirelessness and speed, and for remarkable power in thewater. After a first ford over slippery rocks Sterl had ironshoes put on him, and that made him invincible.

While Sterl was unrolling the tent, Red and Leslie rode in.Exposure and sun had given the girl a golden tan, which magnifiedher charm. After that tiff the second day out, she hadpersistently ignored Sterl.

"Pile off, Red, and go through the motions," called Sterl, andsoon his comrade was helping, markedly reticent for him.

"Well, what's on your chest?" queried Sterl.

"Wal, this nice long easy drive is over. It'll be hell fromnow on. Sterl, what you think?--Leslie has commissioned me to begyou to forgive her for being catty."

"Yeah?--Red, you can tell Leslie to ask me herself. I wasdeliberately rude to her. And I'm sorry. She's worried, now thatwe've caught up with the big outfit."

"Shore is. An' so'm I. But once I get mad, I'll be good-o, asLeslie says."

"Rightho, as Leslie says."

Before sundown of that important day, supper had been disposedof, and Slyter had stridden off to visit Dann, accompanied byDrake, and calling upon Sterl and Red to follow.

"Boss, take Red, and let me stay in camp," suggestedSterl.

"No. I may need you. Stanley will ask for you. As forOrmiston--the sooner you meet him the better. I ask you to meethim."

"Thanks, Slyter. I'll come."

"Dad, please let me come with the boys? I want to see Beryl,"entreated Leslie.

"Of course, my dear. I'd forgotten you."

"Red, you run along with Leslie," put in Sterl. "I want toshave. Be with you in a jiffy."

Beside the grandest monarch of all these eucalyptus trees, hecame upon the wagon and camp of Dann's sister and his daughterBeryl. Leslie was talking excitedly with the girl, while Redstood, sombrero in hand, listening. Sterl was introduced andgreeted cordially. Beryl wore boy's garb, more attractive and notso worn as Leslie's.

"Doesn't it seem long since we all met, way back there inDownsville?" she asked. "I nearly died of homesickness for days.But now it's not too bad. I intend to be a drover, likeLeslie."

"Wal," interposed Red, "we shore need another traildriver."

"How queerly you cowboys carry your pistols!" exclaimed Beryl,indicating the low-hanging sheaths, well down the right thighs."Dad's drovers stick them in their hip pockets, or under abelt."

"Wal, Miss Dann," drawled Red, "you see us cowboys gotta throwa gun quick sometimes, an' it needs to be handy."

"Where do you throw it?" she asked, curiously.

"Aw, at jack rabbits, or any ole varmint thet happensalong."

"Miss Beryl, Red is teasing you," chimed in Sterl. "To throw agun means to jerk it out, quickly--like this."

"How strange!...Oh, so you can shoot quickly at yourantagonists?"

"Exactly. And the cowboy who throws his quickest has the bestchance to survive. Please excuse us, Miss Beryl. Our boss wantsus in on the conference over there."

A little group of men stood in a half circle back of StanleyDann, who sat before a box doing duty as a table. Here thecowboys met the leader's partners. Eric Dann, the younger of thetwo brothers, was short and strongly built, but rather stern,dark features. Hathaway was tall and florid, apparently underfifty years. Woolcott appeared fully sixty, a bearded man, withdeep-set eyes and gloomy mien.

"All of you have a look at this map," spoke up Dann,indicating a paper on the box. "Eric drew it from memory. And ofcourse it isn't accurate as to distance or points. Still, it willgive you a general idea of the country at the headwaters of therivers that run into the Gulf of Carpentaria...This line marksthe road we're on, and which we can trek fairly well. This darkline, way up in Queensland, is the Diamantina River, an importantobstacle. This open space represents the Never-never--some twothousand miles across, perhaps. Beyond to the northwest, are theKimberleys, our destination--please God! You observe that theyrun northwest...Hello, Ormiston, you're just in time to give youropinion...Well, my brother wants to follow this old wagon trekbeyond the headwaters of the Diamantina River and the Warburton,on north across the Gulf rivers, and then west to Wyndham and theKimberleys. There's no telling how much farther this route willbe, probably a thousand miles. Too far! And just as hard; itsonly good feature is that it has been traveled. Striking westbeyond the Diamantina to the Warburton, following that to itsheadwaters, and then striking straight west again, will be ashort cut and save us, Lord only knows how much! I call for avote from each man present except Drake. And I include theseAmerican cowboys, with your permission, because they have hadextensive experience in droving cattle."

The vote ended in a deadlock, Slyter, Sterl and Red arrayingthemselves upon Stanley Dann's side; the others standing by Eric.The leader showed no feeling whatsoever, but Eric Dann andOrmiston argued vigorously for the longer and once-traveledroute.

Sterl listened and bent piercing eyes upon this quartet, andat length his deductions were clear-cut, and he would have swornby them. Eric Dann feared to take the great trek into theunknown. Ormiston had some personal reason for standing by EricDann, and he had influenced Hathaway and Woolcott.

"Very well. It hangs fire for the present," concluded StanleyDann. "Perhaps the months to come will bring at least one of yougentlemen to reason."

If Ormiston tried to conceal his satisfaction he failed tohide it from Sterl.

"Hazelton," said Stanley Dann, "I'm curious to know what youthink, if you'll commit yourself."

"Are there black men all over this Never-never Land?"countered Sterl.

"Yes, according to our few explorers."

"If they can be propitiated, perhaps we could learn from them,as the pathfinders in my country have learned from theIndians."

"Good idea!" boomed the leader.

"These niggers are a mean, lying, unscrupulous race," put inOrmiston, contemptuously.

"Perhaps because of the treatment white men have given them,"spoke up Slyter.

Ormiston for the moment let well enough alone. Sterl espiedLeslie and Beryl, accompanied by a frank-featured blond younggiant, nearing the group. He accosted Red.

"Krehl, good day. Glad to see you again," he said, agreeably,as he extended a hand.

"Howdy yoreself," drawled Red, with guile meeting guile. Andhe shook hands.

"Sorry you are on the wrong side of the fence. But you're astranger in Australia. I venture to predict you're tooexperienced an outdoor man to be long deceived by mirages."

"Hell no. I cain't be deceived forever. But this heah countryis so grand, I jest don't believe in your Never-never."

"It's a fact, however, and I hope you don't learn from bitterexperience."

"Yeah? Wal, you're orful kind."

At this juncture, Leslie with her companions came up to Slyterand Dann. Sterl knew absolutely that Ormiston had timed for theirbenefit whatever he meant to do, and he burned under his coolexterior.

"Hello, Hazelton," called the drover, in pleasant andresounding tones. "I've wanted to meet you again, to tell you Iregret the unpleasantness of our meeting at Downsville."

"I'm sure you regret it, Ormiston," replied Sterl, ignoringthe proffered hand, and his piercing gaze met the drover's dark,veiled eyes.

"I didn't regret it because I booted that black," rejoinedOrmiston, slowly withdrawing his hand.

"That was perfectly obvious," retorted Sterl, not withoutcontempt.

"Why do you think I regret it?" flashed the drover.

"Because you ran into the wrong man and got shown up," flashedSterl, just as quickly.

"No. I regretted it because I was drunk."

"Drunk or sober you'd be about the same, Ormiston."

Slyter had approached to within a few steps, and Dann, withthe girls hanging to him, started and dismayed, halted besidehim, while the others stood back.

"Nonsense," burst out Ormiston. "No man is responsible whenhe's drunk."

"Righto. That's why you gave yourself away," retortedSterl.

Ormiston threw up his hands with a gesture indicating thehopelessness of placating this hard headed American. But underthe surface was a mastered fury.

"Cowboy, I approached you to express my regret--toapologize--to prevent discord!"

"If you're so keen on preventing discord, why did you exciteit and foment it between our leader and his other partner?"Sterling's tone was contemptuous. As he ended he completed hisfew slow steps to one side. To any westerner it would have beenplain that Sterl wanted to get Ormiston out of line with theothers. But the drover did not show that he realized that.

"I'm not exciting discord," returned Ormiston, hotly. "I comefrom North Queensland. I know something of the Gulf country. EricDann is right and Stanley Dann is wrong. It's the saferroute."

"Ormiston, how do you know it's safer?" queried Sterl,sharply.

"Eric Dann knows. Hathaway and Woolcott are convinced of it.That's enough."

"Not by a damn sight! Not enough for you to split thisoutfit," declared Sterl deliberately.

"You insolent, cocksure Yankee..."

"Careful!" interrupted Sterl. "Ormiston, you're not on thelevel. You've got something up your sleeve. You'll never get awaywith it."

Ormiston wheeled to the other men. "Dann, you heard him. Thisintolerable riffraff--this Yankee..."

"Ormiston, you started this," boomed the leader, as the droverchoked. "It's between you and him."

"Miss Dann--I appeal to you," went on Ormiston, his voiceshaking. "Your father has been--taken in by this--thisinterloper. Won't you speak up for me?"

"Dad! It's an outrage," cried Beryl, white of face and angryof eye. "Will you permit this crude, lowbred American to insultAshley so vilely--to threaten him?"

"Girl, go to your tent," ordered Dann, sternly. "If you musttake sides you should take mine. Go--it's no place for you!"

"But Dad!" cried the spirited girl. "It is. We're all init!"

"Yes, and it appears I shouldn't have brought you. At leasttry not to make it harder."

Beryl bent a withering glance upon Sterl. "Mr. Cowboy, do notspeak to me again."

"Suits me fine, Miss Dann," replied Sterl curtly. "I'm boundto help and defend your father. Certainly not to concern myselfwith a girl who's been made a fool of by a coward and acheat!"

Miss Dann gave Sterl a stinging slap on his cheek. Then shedrew back, gasping, as if realizing to what limit her temper hadled her. With red burning out the white of her face, she rantoward her wagon. Ormiston wheeled to three waiting men,evidently his drovers, and stormed away with them, violentlygesticulating.

Sterl watched them intently for a moment, then turned awaytoward Slyter's camp. Stanley Dann called him to wait, but Sterlhurried on. Red did not catch up with him until he had almostreached the tent. Then both discovered that Stanley Dann, Slyterand Leslie had followed them.

"Hazelton, don't run away from me when I call you," complainedDann, as he caught up.

"I'm sorry, boss. I lost my temper."

"Then you fooled me, because I thought you deliberatelyinvited a quarrel with Ormiston."

"Oh, he couldn't rouse my temper. It was Miss Beryl. Ishouldn't have spoken as I did to her."

They found seats on a log; except Leslie, who significantlystood close to Sterl, her youthful face grave, her hazel eyes,darkly dilated, fastened upon him.

"Les, you better run over to Mum," said Slyter.

"Not much, Dad. If Beryl is going to share the fights, andeverything else, I am too."

"Good-o, Leslie," declared Dann, heartily.

"You stay here. I'm going to need all the championshippossible...Hazelton, you spoke right from the shoulder. Man toman! I can't understand why Ormiston stood it. What concerns meis this. Have you any justification for the serious insinuationsand open accusations you visited upon Ormiston?"

"Boss, they're all a matter of instinct. I've been years onthe frontier. I have met hundreds of bad men. I have had tosuspect some of them, outguess them, be too quick for them--orget shot myself. Ormiston might have fooled me for awhile, if ithad not been for the accident of his kicking Friday. But not forlong! He's playing a deep game--what, I can't figureout--yet."

"Hazelton, you impress me," pondered the leader. "I had onlyone feeling. You were opposing him in my interest. It seemsincredible--what you insinuated about him. Yet you might possesssome insight denied to me and my partners. This trek loomsappallingly. That does not change me--frighten me in the least.But now I begin to see opposition, intrigue, perhaps treachery,blood and death."

"Boss, you can be sure of all of them," rejoined Sterl,earnestly. "And you can be as sure that my opposition to Ormistonis on your behalf."

Dann nodded his shaggy golden mane like a sleepy lion.

"Krehl, suppose you give me your view, unbiased by yourfriend's," he said, presently.

"Well, boss, when Ormiston rushed me like a bull, I wouldn'thave risked my precious right hand on his mug, like Sterl did.I'd jest have bored him, had a coupla drinks of red likker, an'forgot all about him. We say Ormiston is no good. You give himthe benefit of the doubt, an' leave it to me an' Sterl to findhim out."

"Reason, intelligence, courage," boomed the drover. "These Irespect above all other qualities. You have my consent. Go slow.Be sure. That's all I ask. Slyter, can you add anything tothat?"

"No, Stanley. That says all."

"Yes, and nothing shall deter us...Hazelton, I was surprisedand sorry indeed at the way Beryl took Ormiston's part. She is aheadstrong, passionate child. Beryl has been pleading with me tomake the trek by way of the Gulf."

Silent acceptance of that statement attested to itssignificance. Red dropped his gaze to the ground, and Sterl sawhis lean brown hand clutch until the knuckles shone white.

"Not that it influences me in the least," continued Dann,rising.

Slyter arose also, shaking his head. "As if droving a mob ofeight thousand cattle wasn't enough!"

Leslie walked a few steps with him, then returned.

"Dog-gone you, cain't you leave me an' Sterl alone atall?"complained Red, but a child could see that he did not meanthat.

Leslie looked from him to Sterl with troubled, gratefuleyes.

"Boys," she said, breathing hard, "if Beryl is in it, so am I.And she is! She's on Ash Ormiston's side. He has been making loveto her all along. Besides I know her. She had all the boys athome in love with her. She likes it. Cedric, that boy today. Hecame on this trek solely, because of Beryl. Ormiston--Oh, he istwo-faced! Neither her father nor my Dad can see that."

"Wal, my dear, we can see it," returned Red, persuasively."I'm not as all-fired stuck on Beryl as I was, at thet. But let'sgive her a chance."

"Sterl...won't you see me...later?" implored Leslie. "I knowyou've been angry with me for days. I deserve it. I'm sorry. Itold Red to tell you I'd been a cat. Sterl, I couldn't bear tohave you despise me longer."

"Leslie, how silly! I never despised you!" replied Sterl, witha smile. "I'll come to see you later."

A light illumined her troubled face. She wheeled to bound awaylike a deer.

"Pard, shore you see how it is with Leslie?" queried Red.

"I'm afraid I do," reluctantly admitted Sterl.

"Red, what's Ormiston's game?"

"Easy to say, far as the girls air concerned. Shore, he didn'tmean marriage with her. But he might with Beryl. If Dann gets tothe Kimberleys with half his cattle he'll be rich, an' richerpronto."

"It's a cinch he'll never end this trek with us."

"I've a hunch he doesn't mean to."

Sterl gave Red a searching gaze, comprehending, and indicativeof swiftly revolving thoughts. "We're up against the deepest,hardest game we ever struck. Listen, let's try a trick that hasworked before. Tip off Slyter and Stanley Dann that you and Iwill pretend to quarrel--fall out--and you'll drink and hobnobwith Ormiston's drivers, in order to spy on Ormiston."

"Thet'll queer me with Beryl. Not thet I care about itnow."

"No, it'll make a hero out of you, if through this you saveher father."

"Dog-gone!" ejaculated Red, his face lighting. "You alwayscould outfigger me. Settled, pard, an' the cards air stacked.Tomorrow night you an' me will have a helluva fight, savvy? Onlybe careful where an' how you sock me."

"Righto. There's Friday. Red, I'm going to try to make thatblack understand our game."

"Go ahaid. Another good idee. I'll tell Slyter, an' then talkto Leslie a bit."

Friday and Sterl stood on the brink of the river. "Friday, yousit down alonga me," said Sterl. "Me bad here. Trouble," he wenton, touching his forehead. With a map drawn in the sand, in theargot which Friday understood, he set forth the difference ofopinion regarding routes to the Kimberleys.

"Me savvy," replied the black, and tracing the gulf-line onthe sand he shook his head vehemently, then tracing a line alongthe big river and across the big land he nodded just asvehemently.

"Good, Friday," rejoined Sterl, strongly stirred. "You knowcountry up alonga here?"

The aborigine shook his head. "Might be black fellatellum."

"Friday get black fella tell?"

"Might be. Some black fella good--some bad."

"Some white fella bad," went on Sterl, intensely. "Ormistonbad. Him wanta go this way. No good. Him make some white fellaafraid. Savvy, Friday?"

The native nodded. He encouraged Sterl greatly. If heunderstood, then it did not matter that he could talk only alittle.

"Ormiston bad along missy," continued Sterl. "Alonga big bossmissy, too. Friday, watchum all time. Me watchum all time. Savvy,Friday?"

The aborigine nodded his black head instantly, with the mienof an Indian chief damning an enemy to destruction. "Fridaysavvy. Friday watchum. Friday no afraid!"

Sterl forgot to call for Leslie, but when she stole upon himit was certain that she had not forgotten, and that with themoonlight on her rippling hair, and sweet grave face, she waslovely.

"I waited and waited, but you didn't come," she said, takinghis arm and leaning on him.

"Leslie, the talk I just had with Friday would make anyoneforget. I'm sorry."

He looked down upon her with stirring of his pulse. In anotheryear Leslie would be a beautiful woman, and irresistible.

"You've forgiven me?"

"Really, Leslie, I didn't have anything to forgive."

"Oh, but I think you had. I don't know what was the matterwith me that day. Or now, for that matter. Today has been alittle too much for your cowgirl. Red told me about cowgirls. Oh,he's the finest, strangest boy I ever knew. I adore him,Sterl."

"Well, I'm not so sure I'll allow you to adore Red," rejoinedSterl. "And see here, Leslie, now that we've made up, and you'remy charge on this trek..."

"How did you guess I longed for that?" she interposedfrankly.

"I didn't. But as you seemed upset this afternoon and put suchstore on my friendship, why I decided to sort of boss you."

"I need it. Since we got to this camp, and I saw Ormistonagain--I'm just scared out of my wits. Silly of me!"

"Well, outside of Ormiston, I reckon there's plenty to bescared about. Ormiston, though--you needn't fear him personally,any more. Keep out of his way. Always ride within sight of us.Never lose sight of me in a jam or any kind. Don't go to Dann'scamp unless with us or your dad."

"Dad would take me, and forget me. Sterl, won't you please letme be with you often like this? I couldn't have slept tonight ifyou hadn't."

"Yes, you can be with me all you want," promised Sterl,helpless in the current. "But Red and I must go to bed early.Remember I have to ride herd after two o'clock. That means you'reslated for bed right now."

"Oh, you darling," she cried, happily, and kissing him soundlyshe ran toward her wagon.

CHAPTER 8

Slyter wanted to keep his mob of cattle intact, so that itwould not be lost in the larger mob. It was inevitable, Sterltold him, that sooner or later there would be only one mob. Allthe cattle except Woolcott's were unbranded.

Stanley Dann had foreseen this contingency, and his idea wasto count the stock of each partner, as accurately as possible,and when they arrived at their destination let him take hispercentage.

Discussion of this detail was held at the end of the nextday's trek, in a widening part of the valley, where the streamformed a large pool. Ormiston objected to the idea of percentage;and when Stanley Dann put it to a vote, Red Krehl sided withOrmiston.

"Red Krehl, I'm ashamed of you," Leslie burst out, when Redapproached the Slyter campfire that night.

"You air. Wal, thet's turrible," drawled Red in a voice whichwould have angered anyone.

"I saw you, after we halted today. You were with Ormiston'sdrovers. Very jolly! And after that conference at Dann's you werebasking in Beryl's smiles. She has won you over forOrmiston."

"Les, you're a sweet kid, but kinda hothaided an' dotty."

"I'm nothing of the kind."

"Me an' Sterl don't agree on some things."

"Oh, you've been drinking. Drink changes men. I ran fromOrmiston when he'd been drinking."

"You'd better run from me, pronto, or I'll spank the daylightsout of you."

"You--you!..." Leslie was too amazed and furious to findwords. She looked around to see how her parents took thisoffense. Mrs. Slyter called for Leslie to leave the campfire.Leslie found her voice, and her dignity. "Mr. Krehl, some thingsare evident, and one is that you're no gentleman. You leave mycampfire, or I will!"

Red did not show up at Slyter's camp next morning until timeto drive the herd across the stream. The wagons crossed only hubdeep at a bar below camp. But the cattle were put to the deepwater. The take-off was steep, and many of the steers leaped, togo under. Splashing, cracking horns, bawling, the mob swam acrossthe river, waded out. The horses, following in the deep troughwhich the cattle had cut into the bank, trooped down to taketheir plunge.

It was well Sterl had an oilskin cover over his rifle as Kingwent in, up to his neck. The black loved the water. Leslie camelast. She bestrode Duke, who hated a wetting but showed that hecould not be left behind. He pranced, he reared.

"Come on, Les," called Sterl cheerily. "Give him thesteel."

"Okay," trilled the girl, spirited and sure, and Sterl smiledat the thought that she was absorbing American dialect. Shespurred the big sorrel, and he plunged to go clear under. Shekept her seat. The sorrel came up with a snort and swampowerfully across.

At last the sun rose high enough to be warm, and to dry wetgarments. At noon it was hot. By the almost imperceptibleincrease in temperature and the changing nature of the verdure,Sterl became aware of the tropics. He saw strange trees andflowering shrubs along with those he already knew. No mile passedthat he did not observe a beautifully plumaged bird that wasnew.

Leslie rode over to offer Sterl a wet biscuit. She hadrecovered from her shyness, or else in the broad sunlight andmounted on a horse that would jump at a touch, she had somethingof audacity. Presently he chased her back toward her station. Hereyes were flashing back and her hat swinging.

He would play square with this kid, he thought, but he hadgrown more aware of her captivating charm and freshness as thenights and days passed. He had no illusion about any cowboy, evenhimself. Yet he was disgusted with himself for being wooed soeasily from a lamentable love affair. He should hate allwomen.

Sunset had come and passed when the main mob ceased to move,indicating that the drovers on the right had halted for camp.Slyter loped in behind his comrades. By the wagon Red sat hishorse, waiting.

"Pard," he said, low-voiced, as Sterl halted close, "I'll eatwith thet other outfit tonight. Meet you at the big campfireafter supper. Spring the dodge then."

"Depends on how mean you get," replied Sterl, with a mirthlesslaugh. "Red, honest Injun, I don't like the dodge."

"Hell no! But, pard, it's for them, an' us too," returned Red,sharply. "It's our deal an' I've stacked the cairds. Play thegame, you!" And Red rode away at a swinging canter. Darknessdescended and the cook pounded a kettle to call all tosupper.

Stanley Dann's community campfire blazed brightly in thecenter of a circle of bronzed faces. Dann had barbecued a beef.It hung revolving over a pit full of red-hot coals. Sterlappeared purposely late, his soft step inaudible as he came upbehind Ormiston to hear him say, "But Leslie, my sweet girl,surely you cannot hold that against me?"

Sterl smothered an impulse to kick the man with all his might.Probably Red's arrival, more than his restraint, checked theprecipitation of an issue that was bound to come. There were twodrovers with Red, trying to hold him back, as he wrestledgood-naturedly with them, and broke out in loud, lazy voice:"Dog-gone-it, fellers. Lemme be. Wasser masser with you? I'm aladies' man--I am--an' I've been some punkins in my day."

His companions let him go, and kept back out of the circle oflight. Sterl nerved himself for the prearranged split. Redshouldered Ormiston aside, to bend over Leslie.

"Les, I been huntin' you all over this heah dog-gone camp,"said Red, with a gallant bow.

"I've been here, Red," replied Leslie, quickly, evidently gladto welcome him, drunk or sober. "Come, sit down."

"You shore air my sweet lir girl frien'," returned Red.

What his next move might have been did not transpire, forOrmiston confronted him belligerently. Sterl's alert eye hadcaught the drover scrutinizing Red, doubtless for the gun usuallyin plain sight. Tonight it was absent. Ormiston shoved Redviolently. "You drunken Yankee pup! This is an Australian girl,not one of your trail drabs to mouth over!"

Sterl did not risk Red's reaction to that. He leaped betweenthem, facing Ormiston. "Careful, you fool!" he called,piercingly. "Haven't you any sense? Krehl has killed men forless."

"He's drunk," rejoined the drover. "His familiarity withLeslie is insufferable."

"Yeah, it is, and I'll handle him," retorted Sterl.

"Here, men," boomed Dann, striding over. "Can't we have onelittle hour free from work and fighting?"

"Boss, there'll not be any fight," returned Sterl. "AndOrmiston is not to blame this time, for more than one of histwo-faced cracks--It's Red."

"Boss, I wasn't huntin' trouble," interposed Red, sulkily."Shore I've had a couple drinks. But whassar masser with thet? Iain't drunk. I jest say a playful word to Leslie, an' I getsinsulted by Ormiston heah, an' then my pard. Dog-gone, thet's toomuch."

"Red, I'm disgusted with you," declared Sterl, angrily. "Thisis the second time. I warned you."

"What'n'll do I care? You make me sick with yore preachin'. Iain't agonna stand it no more."

"Cowboy, you'd gone to hell long ago but for me."

"Shore. But I'm on my way again. We'll all be on our way, ifwe stick to the big boss's idee, an' trek off into thetNever-never."

Sterl simulated a man working himself into a rage. Laying apowerful left hand on Red's collar he jerked him so hard that thecowboy's head shot forward and back. "Why you double-crossinglowdown greaser!" raged Sterl. "You fail us for a fewdrinks!"

"Wal, it shore looks like I got the decidin' vote," rang outthe cowboy, with convincing elation.

Sterl let out a fierce cry of wrath. And he knocked Red flat.Despite his promise not to hit too hard, he feared he had doneso.

Beryl Dann leaped up to run and drop upon her knees besideRed. "Oh, he's terrible hurt!" She glanced up at Sterl, face andeyes flaming in the light. "You!--You are the discord--thevillain on this trek!"

Sterl bowed scornfully and left the campfire for his own tent.Lighting a cigarette Sterl settled down to smoke and think andlisten, when rapid footfalls told that someone was coming. Heturned round to see Leslie running out of the darkness. At thatmoment she appeared most distractingly pretty and desirable.

"Can't you ever walk, like a lady should?" queried Sterlgruffly.

"I can--but not in--the dark--with Ormiston at large," shepanted.

"After you again?"

"Yes, he is. Barefaced as--as anything."

"You have encouraged him."

"I--have not!"

"Leslie, I don't believe you," returned Sterl, quite brutally.Somehow that little incident beside Dann's campfire had rousedunreasonable jealousy.

A dark wave of color changed the paleness of her face.

"Sterl, I lied to Mum--and Dad about Ormiston. I was scared.But I'd not lie to you."

"Very well then, I apologize!"

"Sterl, Red said something today...that I didn't know it andyou didn't know it--but I--I was your girl."

"The rattlebrain! Leslie, don't let him bamboozle you."

"What's bamboozle?"

"Make a little fool of you."

"Oh! then it isn't--true?" she whispered, plaintively.

"Of course it's true, in a way, for this trek," he replied,trying to keep from putting his arm around her, rather thancarefully choosing his words.

"Then I can be happy, in spite of your brutality to Red," sherejoined most earnestly, hanging to his arm and devouring hisface with eyes of wonder and sorrow. "Why didn't you hit Ormistoninstead of your friend?"

"I was angry, Leslie. What happened after I left?"

"Beryl has a tender heart for anyone hurt. And Red was hurt.She bent over him and almost cried. I bent over him, too, and Icould see that Red was not only hurt but glorying in it. Then ithappened. Ormiston dragged us away. He was perfectly white in theface. Why, the madman thinks he can have us both! Then poor dearRed sat up, his hand to his face, and said: 'Leslie, tell thetpard of mine thet I'll get even for the sock he gave me.' Otherswere coming, so I ran off."

"Leslie," flashed Sterl, "you're no kid any more, despite whatRed says. You've got to be a woman--to use your wits to help usto be cunning. Listen, can I trust you?"

She looked up wonderingly. "Yes, Sterl."

"That fight with Red was all pretense. Red wasn't drunk. Ourplan is for him to make it look like he's split with me--tohobnob with those drovers, and find out what the hombre has uphis sleeve! I'm confiding in you because I won't have youbelieving me a brute."

"Who thought you a brute? Oh, so Red wasn't drunk? How glad Iam! Will Beryl be in the secret?"

"No indeed! Only your Dad, Stanley Dann, and you."

"So that was it," mused the girl.

"That was what?"

"Beryl's sweetness toward Red. The cat! Ormiston has twistedher round his little finger, and now she thinks Red has gone overto Ormiston's side."

"Righto, Leslie. Now you hide those perfectly human feelingsand practice deceit yourself. Be a ninny. Be the little softy wholooks up to the proud Miss Dann. But be cunning, and find outthrough her all that is possible about Ormiston."

"So that's my part? Ohhh! But it's for Dad, for Mum, for Mr.Dann, for you. Yes, I can do it."

"Good-o! Run! Here comes Red. From the way he walks, I'dgamble he's mad!"

Red stalked into the firelight, his eyes like daggers, hishand to his mouth. He removed it to expose a swollen lip.

"Wal, you--liar!" he said. "You promised not to sock me hard,an' look what you did!"

"I'm sorry, pard," replied Sterl, stifling a laugh. "Honestly,I didn't mean to. When I swung, you dumbhead, you ducked intoit."

"Pard, I heah somebody comin'. Let's go in our tent an' hitthe hay. Then I'll talk."

Sterl had to strain his eyes to make out Friday's prone formunder the low-drooping wattle branches. Somehow he had come toliken the black to a watchdog. He felt how infinitely keener theaborigine was than any white man, and most likely far keener thanany Indian scout he had ever known.

Thirty-one days later--according to Leslie's journal on thetwenty-ninth of June--after a prodigious trek through a junglepass, Stanley Dann called a halt for a rest and repairs toequipment and drovers and mob.

Ormiston, with the two partners and drovers whom he dominated,broke out of the pass into the open, after a three-mile trekwhich took more than half a day. The Danns followed on his heels.Styler's cattle and riders found the grass and brush trampled,the tree ferns and sassafras knocked down, the creek banks cutinto lanes, making it an easy trek except for the grades.

An hour's rest on the flat of his back, a bath, a shave, achange of clothes, restored Sterl to some semblance of his formerself. He had a short talk with Styler, cheerful and energeticagain. Mrs. Styler appeared none the worse for the long wagonrides and the many camps with their incessant tasks. But Leslieshowed the wear of six weeks and more of hard riding.

"Howdy, ragamuffin," said Sterl, coming to her calls.

"I am, aren't I?" she replied, ruefully, surveying herself."I've two other suits, but I'll mend these rags and make them goas far as possible. How spic and span you look! Very handsome,Sterl!"

"That goes for you, Les," he rejoined, heartily. "How prettilyyou tan!"

"Flatterer! I've had to ride myself nearly to death to extractthat compliment from you. Oh, what a trek! Sterl, you must helpme with my journal."

"Sure will. Let's see." It was then that Sterl discovered theyhad trekked thirty-one days through these mountain ranges for anaggregate of only one hundred and seventy-eight miles. "Not sogood."

"My journal? You don't help me!"

"I was referring to our trek, not your journal. It's veryneat. Only there's so little. I saw Beryl's journal the othernight. It has yours skinned to a frazzle."

"Yeah? She writes in the wagon. And Red helps her at night.That was another thing which made Ormiston jealous."

"Well, add a long footnote here. I can remember the importantthings. Of course you would record your loss of Duchess."

"Oh, Sterl, that broke my heart."

"She'll trail us, if she wasn't crippled or stolen by blacks.Put this down. Slyter lost two horses, and some twenty-odd headof cattle. Bad crossing at the ford you called Wattle Rapids.Flooded a wagon there, but no damage. Visited by only few blacks.Growing unfriendly. Mosquitoes terrible at the Forks. Big treeferns. Grand mountain-ash trees. Bad going last few days. Shorttreks. Wagons need repairs and grease. Leslie about stripped torags and lost say five pounds."

"Umpumm, cowboy! I don't record that!"

Supper, as usual on short day treks, came early--this time, ashad happened often, without Red in attendance. Members ofSlyter's group were always too hungry to mind the sameness offare. Beef, alternated with game, was the prime factor. Damper,tea, dried fruits and beans were the other essentials, and onoccasion Bill, the cook, managed some surprising pastry. Cowboys,Sterl realized, drank too much coffee, sometimes ten cups a day.Sterl and Red had learned to like tea, but they confined drinkingit to two meals a day.

"We haven't talked with Stanley for ten days," said Slyterafter supper, "Come along with me, Hazelton."

The Dann camp was bustling. One wagon had been jacked up,while the hubs were being greased; hammers rapped vigorously onanother, which had been partly unpacked; tents were in process oferection; a brawny drover was splitting firewood. Red sat on theground beside a hammock, in which Beryl lay, writing in herjournal.

Dann, the blond, golden-bearded giant, greeted Slyter andSterl in booming welcome.

"Heard my order that we hold up here a week?" he queried.

"Yes. Heald brought it. I'm glad. A good few days will put usright again. Sterl agrees."

"Just had words with Ormiston. He disagrees. Says one day isrest enough. I told him he had my order. He replied that he'd goon with Woolcott and Hathaway. At that I put my foot down. Heleft in high dudgeon."

"Why does he try to block everything?" Sterl queried. "Why?Any fool would know the cattle need rest. Let's ask Red." Sterlcalled over the happily engaged cowboy, informed him ofOrmiston's defection and asked if he could throw any light onit.

"Boss, I cain't give any reason for Ormiston's angle, excepthe's a mean cuss."

"Immaterial to me whether he does or not. He'd surely wait forus to catch up."

Dann and Slyter withdrew, leaving Red, accompanied by Sterl,to return to Beryl. She received Sterl with a rather distanthauteur. If anything, Beryl had gained on the trek, in a goldentan, in a little weight, and certainly in beauty. Sterl tookadvantage of the moment to tell her so. Her answering pleasurebetrayed the vain jewel of her soul. Even if she hated a man shecould not help responding to a tribute to her beauty.

Sterl returned to Slyter's camp, for he had an engagement withLeslie to climb to the saddle of the ridge and view the country.Letting her carry his rifle, he secured a long stout stick, andthey set out. Along their route, knee-high grass had not beentrampled, and Sterl kept an eye out for snakes. Presently amovement of grass and a sibilant hiss startled them into jumpingback. Then with the long stick Sterl located the snake. Jones hadinformed Sterl that this species was very poisonous and duringthe mating season would attack a man.

"Isn't he pretty? Tan, almost gold, with dark bars. Hasn't gota triangular shaped head as our bad snakes have."

"Step back, Sterl. Let me shoot his head off," demandedLeslie, who manifestly was not sentimental over snakes.

"Umpumm. What for? He might be a gentleman like our rattler,who won't strike unless you step on him."

"This tiger is no gentleman. You're very tenderhearted oversnakes, aren't you?" said Leslie, with a subtlety into whichSterl thought he had better not inquire. As they surmounted theridge, they looked down into the magnificent mountain passthrough which they had come. From behind the sun shone golden andred. In places the shining ribbon of stream wound throughverdure. On the far flat, flame trees were mounds of burningfoliage, and the wedge-shaped sassafras trees glistened as withgolden frost. But most striking of all was a waterfall whichSterl had not seen on the way through, a lacy, downward-smokingcascade leaping fall after fall in golden glory from themountainside.

"Sterl, not there--here!" cried Leslie, tugging to wheel himaround. "That is pretty--reminds me of home. But this purple landwe are trekking into..."

From the height where they stood the glistening, grassy slopewith tufts of flowers like bits of fire descended gradually tothe camp, where tents and canvas wagon tops shone white, columnsof blue smoke curled and great gum trees towered, their smoothtrunks opal-hued, up to the immense spread and sweep of hoarybranches, their leaves thin glints of green against the goldensky.

These spreading gums were like pillars of a wide portalopening down into a softly colored vale, from which swells ofland, covered with flowering trees, rose and fell away into aplain spotted with flame--trees and wattles, which lured the gazeon over timbered ridges, on and on with dimming gold into theluminous purple that intensified and darkened until it blendedwith the never ending vastness.

He became aware that Leslie was pressing close to his side,clinging to him, gazing up with darkly shining eyes.

"My Australia!" she murmured. "Isn't it glorious? Don't youlove it? Aren't you glad you came?"

"Yes, Leslie--yes," he said, his emotion naturally shifting tothe sense of her beauty and nearness.

"You will never leave Australia?"

"No child--never," he replied, with sadness in his voice.

"You are my dearest friend?"

"I hope so. I'm trying hard to be--your friend."

"And my big brother?"

Suddenly there came a convulsion within his breast, a hot rushof blood that swiftly followed his surrender to her sweetness, toher appeal. "Not your big brother, Leslie!" he said, thickly, ashe clasped her tight. "You're a woman--sweet. No man couldresist...And you torment me." He kissed her passionately, againand again until her cool quivering lips grew hot andresponsive--again and again! until she lay relaxed andacquiescent on his breast.

"My God! Now I've done it," he exclaimed, remorsefully.

"Sterl!" She drew back to gaze up with wondering eyes andflaming face. Then with a cry she turned and fled down theslope.

"Cowboy, that's what Australia had done to you," he said andbent to pick up his rifle.

CHAPTER 9

Day after day the great trek crept across the wilderness thatLeslie had called the purple land. Day after day the smokesignals of the aborigines arose and drifted away over thehorizon. Friday grew mysterious and reticent, answering querieswith a puzzling: "Might be." Sterl, grown wise from his longexperience with the American Indians, knew better than toquestion the black about his people.

Stanley Dann had no fear of blacks or endless trek or flood orheat or drought. As the difficulties imperceptibly increased sodid his cheer and courage and faith. On Sundays he held a shortreligious service which all were importuned to attend. Sterlnoted, as the spell of the wilderness worked upon the minds ofthe trekkers, that the attendance gradually decreased. Faith hadnot failed Stanley Dann, but it had lost its hold on the others,who retrograded toward the primitive.

Sterl saw all this, understood it only vaguely. Ormiston hadalready succumbed to this backward step in evolution. Red wouldsuccumb to it unless a genuine love for Beryl Dann proved toostrong for this life in the raw. All the drovers were beingaffected, and Sterl felt that not many of them would turn outgods.

Beryl responded slowly but surely to this urge. And in her,its first effect was a growth of her natural instinct foracquisition of admirers. Every night at Dann's camp a half dozenor more young drovers vied with Ormiston and Red for her smiles.Red played his game differently from his rivals. He confined hisefforts to serving Beryl, so that the girl seemed to rely uponhim while being piqued that he was not at her feet. Ormiston'sinordinate jealousy grew.

Leslie, being the youngest in the trek, and a girl of redblood and spirit, traveled more rapidly than the rest of them inher relegation to the physical. For weeks after that sunset hourin the gateway of the pass, she had avoided being alone withSterl. But her shyness gradually fell away from her, and as thetrek went on through austere days and nights of time anddistance, she warmed anew to him.

But Sterl had never transgressed again, as at that mad andunrestrained sunset climax, though there were times when hedesired it almost overwhelmingly. Nevertheless love had come tohim once more. Yet he never let himself dwell upon a future. Formany of Stanley Dann's troop, and very possibly for him, therewould be none.

"Plenty smoke," said Friday one afternoon when camp had beenmade on a dry stream bed, with only a few waterholes.

Sterl and Slyter, together at the campfire when Friday spoke,scanned the horizon where at the moment all was clear.

"Friday, what you mean?" queried Slyter, anxiously, "We comefar." He held up three fingers. "Moons--three moons. Plentysmokes. No black man. All same alonga tomorrow?"

"Black fella close up. Plenty black fella. Come more. Bimebyno more smokes. Spear cattle--steal!"

"How long, Friday? When?"

"Mebbe soon--mebbe bimeby."

Slyter looked apprehensively at Sterl, and threw up hishands.

"Let's go tell Stanley."

They found their leader, as had happened before, patientlylistening to Ormiston. Sterl's keen eyes noted a graying ofDann's hair over his temples.

Slyter broke the news. Dann stroked his golden beard.

"At last, eh? We are grateful for this long respite," he said,his eyes lighting as if with good news.

"I asked Friday what to do? He said, 'Watchum close up!Killum!'" concluded Slyter.

"Well! For a black to advise that!" exclaimed the leader,ponderingly. "But I do not advise bloodshed."

"I do," declared Ormiston, bluntly. "If we don't, this niggermob will grow beyond our power to cope with it. They will hang onour trek, spearing cattle at a distance."

Sterl wondered what was working in this man's mind toinfluence him thus. But it seemed wise advice. "Boss, I agreewith Ormiston," he spoke up.

"What's your opinion, Slyter?" asked Dann.

"If the blacks spear our cattle and menace us, then I saykill."

Dann nodded his huge head in sad realization. "We will takethings as they come. Merge all the cattle into one mob..."

"I told you I'd not agree to that," interrupted Ormiston.

"Don't regard it as my order. I ask you to help me to thatextent," returned the leader, with patient persuasion.

"Ormiston, listen," interposed Sterl. "I've had to do with agood many cattle drives, trek you call them. After a stampede ora flood or a terrible storm, things that are bound to happen tous, cattle can never be driven separately again."

"That I do not believe."

"Yeah? All right," snapped Sterl, "what you believe doesn'tcount so damn much on this trek!"

Ormiston gazed away across the purple distance, his square jawset, his eyes smoldering, his mien one of relentlessopposition.

"Our differences are not the important issue now," he saidfinally. "That is this danger of blacks." And without looking athis partners he stalked away.

"Slyter, we'll put double guards on watch tonight. Merge yourcattle with my mob," ordered Dann.

Before dusk fell this order had been carried out. Ormiston'smob, including Woolcott's and Hathaway's grazed across the streambed a mile distant.

Supper at Slyter's camp was late that night, and Red Krehl thelast rider to come in. He sat cross-legged between Leslie andSterl. His dry, droll humor was lacking. It gave Sterl concern,but Leslie betrayed no sign that she noticed it. However, aftersupper, she teased him about Beryl.

"Les, you're a cold, fishy, soulless girl, no good atall,"finally retaliated Red.

"Fishy? I don't know about that. Sterl, should I box hisears?"

"Well, fishy is okay if he means angelfish."

"Red, do you mean I'm an angelfish?"

"I should snicker I don't. Back in Texas there's a littlecatfish. And can he sting?"

"Red, I'd rather have you in a fighting mood. Three timesbefore this you've been the way you are tonight--and somethinghas happened."

"Wal...Ormiston ordered me out of his camp just before I rodein heah."

"What for?" asked Sterl, sharply.

"I ain't shore, Beryl has been kinda sweet to me lately, infront of Ormiston. It ain't foolin' me none. But it's got him.Another thing. Her Dad makes no bones about likin' me. Ormistonhates thet. I reckon he sees I'm someone to worry about."

"You are, Red. But I've a hunch your attention to Beryl haskept you from getting a line on Ormiston."

"Mebbe it has. All the same, shore as you're knee-high to agrasshopper, Beryl will give him away yet, or let out somethin'thet I can savvy."

"Is Beryl in love with him?" asked Sterl.

"Hell, yes," replied Red, gloomily.

"Les, what do you think?"

"Hell, yes," repeated Leslie, imitating Red's laconic disgust."Beryl has had a lot of love affairs. But this one is worse."

"You're both wrong," rejoined Sterl. "Beryl is fascinated by ano-good, snaky man. She's a natural-born flirt. But I think shehas depth. Wait till she's had real hell!"

Friday loomed out of the shadow. He carried his wommera andbundle of long spears. "Plenty black fella close up.Corroboree!"

"Listen!" cried Leslie.

On the instant a wild dog howled. It seemed a mournful andmonstrous sound, accentuating the white-starred, melancholynight. Then a low, weird chanting of many savage voices, almostdrowned by the native dogs baying the dingoes, rose high on thestill air into a piercing wail, to die away.

"Bimeby plenty black fella. Spear cattle--steal ebrytink,"volunteered Friday.

"Will these black men try to kill us?" queried Sterl.

"Might be, bimeby. Watchum close."

Slyter came to the fire, holding up a hand for silence. Thehowling, the barking, the chanting, transcended any wild soundSterl had ever heard. The staccato concatenated barks of coyotes,the lonely mourn of bloodthirsty wolves, the roo-roo-rooooo ofmating buffalo, the stamping, yelling war dance of theIndians--were hardly to be compared to this Australian bushlandchant. Sterl entertained a queer thought that the incalculabledifference might be cannibalism.

"Cowboys, how does that strike you?" asked Slyter, grimly."Daughter, would you like to be home again? Mum has her handsclapped over her ears."

The girl gave him a wan, brave smile. "No. We're on the trek.We'll fight."

"Righto!" ejaculated Slyter. "Les, you have a rifle. If yousee a black man spear a horse--kill him!"

It struck Sterl significantly that Slyter thought of hishorses, not his cattle.

"Get some sleep," he concluded. "Don't risk your tent tonight.Black men seldom or ever attack before dawn, but sleep under yourwagon."

The cowboys piled packs and bundles outside of the wheels oftheir wagon. Then they crept under to stretch out on theirblankets without removing coat or boots. Friday lay just outsideof the wheels. When they rolled out, dressed to ride, rifles inhand, Larry was saddling horses, Drake and his three droversdrinking tea.

"How was the guard?" asked Sterl.

"Mob quiet. Horses resting. No sign of blacks. But we heardthem on and off. Look sharp just before and at daylight."

"Boys," said Larry, when they reached the herd, "I'll drovethe far end."

Sterl passed Dann's horses, patrolled by one rider, and a milefurther down came upon another horseman, who turned out to beCedric. He had been on guard for an hour and reported all well.Sterl rode back.

At intervals low blasts of the corroboree waved out across theplain. The campfires of the aborigines still glimmered. Dogs anddingoes had ceased their howling. Sterl recalled the first timehe had stood guard on the Texas range when Comanches wereexpected to raid. They had done it, too, matchless and fleetriders, swooping down upon the remuda to stampede it and driveoff the horses, leaving one dead Indian on the ground, victim ofhis rifle. He was sixteen years old then and that was his firstblood spilling.

Every half hour of thereabouts he rode back to have a wordwith Red. The only time he accosted Friday the black held up hishand, "Bimeby!"

Now the chanting of the aborigines ceased, and the corroboreefires glimmered fainter and fainter to die out. The cattle slept.The silence seemed uncanny. The first streaks of gray in the eastheralded a rumble of hoofs, like distant thunder. The mob ofcattle belonging to Ormiston and his companions was on the run.Sterl galloped over to Red. Friday joined them.

"They're runnin', pard, but not stampeded," said Red, his leanhead bent, his ear to the east.

"Slowing down, Red," returned Sterl, straining his hearing,"Friday, what happen alonga there?"

"Black fella spearum cattle," was the reply.

"Not so bad, thet. But a stampede of this unholy mob would beorful," declared Red. "Listen, Sterl, they're rollin' again, backthe other way."

"Saw a gun flash!" cried Sterl, and then a dull report reachedthem.

"Wal, the ball's opened," said Red, coolly. "Take yorepardners."

Flashes and reports came from several points, widelyseparated.

"Aw, hell! Our cattle are wakin' up, pard. Heah comesLarry."

The young drover came tearing up, to haul his mount back ontosliding haunches. "Boys, our mob--is about to--break," hepanted.

"Umpumm, Larry," replied Red. "They're jest oneasy."

Sterl calculated that a thousand or more cattle were inmotion, less than a third of Ormiston's mob. The rumble of hoofsbegan to diminish in volume as the gunshots became desultory. Butthe lowing of Dann's mob, the cracking of horns, caused Sterlgreat concern, in spite of Red's assurance. The center ofdisturbance appeared to be back along the sector from which Larryhad just come.

"Sterl, I'll go with Larry," said Red, wheeling Jester. "Jestin case. If we don't get back pronto come arunnin'."

Presently, when he halted King to listen, Sterl foundthat--the dull trampling from across the flat was dying out, andthat the ominous restlessness of Dann's mob was doing likewise. Arapid thud of hoofs proved to be Red, riding back.

"Lost my matches. Gimme some," said the cowboy, as he reinedin beside Sterl. Lighting a cigarette relieved Sterl. "They wasmovin' out up there, but easy to stop. This mob of Dann's fooledme. They've been so tame, you know, not atall like longhorns,thet I reckoned it'd take a hell of a lot to stampede them. Butumpumm!--Say, I'll bet two pesos we'll be interested in what cameoff over there."

"Yes. All quiet now, though. And it's daylight."

At sunrise they rode back to camp. Slyter listened intently toLarry's report, which plainly relieved him.

They had just finished breakfast when Cedric dashed up toinform Slyter that Dann wanted him and the cowboys at once.

"What has happened?" queried Slyter.

"Trouble with the blacks at Ormiston's camp," replied Cedric,then loped away.

Slyter himself was the only one who showed surprise. Dominatedby Stanley Dann, he just could not believe in calamity.

"That's bad, I wonder who...Boys, come on."

"Friday, run alonga me," said Sterl to the black.

At the larger camp. Stanley Dann and Eric, with Cedric andanother drover, were mounted, waiting for them. Beryl waswatching them with big troubled eyes.

"Bingham," spoke up the giant, calmly, "Ormiston just sentword that Woolcott has been speared by the blacks."

"Woolcott! Cedric didn't tell us--I thought--Stanley, this isterrible. When--what?..."

"No other word. I daresay if Ormiston had wanted us he'd havesaid so. But by all means I should go."

"We all should go," rejoined Slyter.

"Wal, I should smile," drawled Red, in a peculiar tone thatonly Sterl understood.

The tall Hathaway, bewhiskered now and no longer florid, metDann's group as they reined in near the wagons.

"A terrible tragedy, Stanley," he said, huskily. "Woolcottinsisted on doing guard duty, in spite of Ormiston's advice. Theblacks attacked at dawn this morning...Killed Woolcott and hishorse!"

"Where is he?" asked Dann.

Hathaway led them beyond the campfire, to a quartet of menbeside a wagon. Ormiston, haggard of face, turned to meet thevisitors. Two of the group had shovels, and had evidently justdug a grave.

"Dann, it's a gruesome business I'd hoped to spare you," saidOrmiston, not without harshness. "Woolcott heard the blacks, andhe went on guard. I advised him particularly to stay in. But hewent--and got killed."

Woolcott lay limp as a sack, with a spear through his middle.Only the side of his gray visage was exposed, but it was enoughto show the convulsions of torture that had attended hisdeath.

"Where's his horse?" asked Dann.

"Out there," replied Ormiston, with a motion of his handtoward a low ridge. "We have the saddle and bridle. This won'tdelay us, Stanley. We'll bury Woolcott, mark his grave, and catchup with you."

"Bury him without any service?"

"You needn't wait to do that. If you wish I'll read a Psalmout of his Bible, and bury it with him."

"I'd like that. We can do no less."

"Wait, boss," called Sterl, "I want to see just what thisblack man spear work looks like." He slipped out of his saddle,and motioned Friday to come from behind the horses.

"Me too," drawled Red, coolly, as he swung his long leg andstepped down.

Sterl, stepping slowing out from the horses, made it a pointto be looking at Ormiston when the drover espied Friday. Evil andforceful as Ormiston undoubtedly was, he was not great. Sterl hadseen a hundred outlaws and rustlers who could have hidden whatthis man failed to hide--a fleeting glimpse of fear.

Friday stepped close to Woolcott's prostrate body, and withsinewy black hand, wonderful in its familiarity with thataboriginal weapon, laid hold of the spear.

Ormiston burst out: "All blacks look the same to me!" And withmurder in his protruding eyes he pulled a gun. Sterl, ready andquick as light, shot it out of Ormiston's hand.

The horses, snorting, plunging, kept the riders busy for amoment. Friday backed away. Sterl stepped back a little, smokinggun extended, lining up the shocked Ormiston with his drovers,Bedford and Jack. Red was at Sterl's side. Stanley Dann bellowedan order from behind.

"Ormiston, you and I will have real trouble over Friday yet,"rang out Sterl. The bullet had evidently hit the gun, to send itspinning away. Ormiston held his stung hand with his left.

"Next time you throw your gun, do it at me," added Sterl,scornfully. "You'd have killed this black man."

"Yes--I would--and I'll do it--yet," shouted Ormiston, nowpurple in the face.

"Ormiston, you're blacker at heart than Friday isoutside."

Stanley urged his big charger near to the belligerents.

"What revolt is this?" he demanded.

Sterl explained in few words. Ormiston contended that sight ofthe black had incited him to frenzy.

"Let that do," boomed the leader. "Isn't Woolcott's deathlesson enough? We must squash this dissension amongs us.Ormiston, I blame you most. Back to camp, all!"

Dann, with Slyter and his brother Cedric, rode away. "Moseyalong, pard," said Red, curtly, "but don't turn yore back."

Sterl had not taken two backward steps before he bumped intoKing. The cowboys mounted and soon overtook the long-stridingFriday. Slowing down to accommodate the black, they rode abeeline for their own camp.

"Sorry, boss," said Sterl to Slyter. "I'm always deepeningthose furrows in your brow. But you must have seen that Ormistonwould have shot Friday. Anyway you heard him say so."

"I heard," declared Slyter. "I tried to convince Stanley thatOrmiston has always meant to murder my black."

Leslie bounced out from somewhere. "Dad! You heard what?" shecried, flashing-eyed and keen, not to be denied.

"Oh, Lord!" groaned her father.

"Leslie, put this down in your little book," said Sterl, andhe made a concise report of the incident.

She flamed even more readily than usual. "He would have shotFriday!" Then she swore, the first time Sterl had ever heard heruse a word of the profanity so prevalent in camp. When her fatherlooked shocked and helpless, Leslie went on, "The louse! Thedirty low-down hombre!"

"Haw! Haw! Haw!" rang out Red's laugh. "Les, you're shorelearning to talk cowboy!"

"Boss," spoke up Sterl, while he fastened the clinches on hisrangy sorrel. "Red and I will start out on the trek. But afterOrmiston is on the move, we'll go back there with Friday to lookover the ground. Red and I can read tracks. And if it's too muchfor us, maybe Friday can see something. We'll catch uppronto."

A few pieces of lumber lay scattered about Woolcott's grave:Sterl and Friday carry stones to cover it. Then they erected amakeshift cross. That done, they set out on foot, leading theirhorses. Half a mile out on the grassy flat, at the edge ofrising, sandy ground, Friday located a dead horse.

It was a bay, lying on its side, with a spear sticking uphigh. "Look heah," said Red, presently, pointing to a slash ofdried blood running from the ear on the under side of thehead.

The black had pulled out a long spear and was scrutinizingit.

"Boss," he said to Sterl, "killum horse like white man." AndFriday made one of his impressive gestures back toward Woolcott'sgrave.

"How, Friday?" queried Sterl.

The black fitted the bloody spear to his wommera, and madeready as if to throw.

"No wommera. No black fella spearum white man! No black fellakillum horse!"

"By Gawd!" ejaculated Red, not in horror, but in confirmationof something that had been sensed.

"How then?" cried Sterl.

"Spear pushum in white man. Pushum in horse. No black fellado!" And Friday took the long spear, to shove it deliberatelyinto the horse.

"Heah, help me turn this hoss over," said Red. The three ofthem managed it, not without dint of effort. Red thrust his barehand into the bloody ear. Suddenly he grew tense.

"Shot!" hissed the cowboy. Then again he bend over to move hishand. "Got my finger in a bullet hole. Somebody shoved a gun inthis hoss's ear an' shot him! Look heah!" As he pulled out hishand there were black stains merged with blood on his forefinger."Powder! Burnt powder!"

Red wiped his hand on the sand and grass, then completed thejob with his handkerchief. He stood up, and searching his pocketfor tobacco and matches sat down to roll a cigarette.

Sterl addressed the watchful black. "Friday, look--seetracks--black fella tracks all around?" Sterl himself could notsee a single one except Friday's. Naturally there were boottracks all around, in every sandy spot. Then he sat downheavily.

"Murder!"

"Pard, as shore as Gawd made little apples!" replied Red."Hell, we shouldn't be surprised. We knowed it all the time--onlywe was afraid to think!"

Red let out as if in relief a long string of vile names--theworse that the western range afforded.

"Why--why?" queried Sterl, passionately.

"What the hell why?" flashed Red, getting up. "It is! We don'tcare why!"

"Could we prove murder to those drovers, if we fetched themback here?"

"Mebbe, if they'd come. But Dann wouldn't come. Pard, I'mafraid he's leanin' to a belief we Yankees air too hardheartedan' suspicious."

"Red, you're figuring we'd better look out for our own scalps,and let these drovers find things out?"

"I reckon I am, pard, thought I ain't had time to figgermuch."

"Maybe you're right, Red. There's Leslie to think of--andBeryl. And Ormiston's a tiger!"

"Leslie is yore lookout, pard, an' Beryl is mine."

Friday interrupted to say: "Boss, no black fella tracks alongahere."

They followed Friday further into the bush, past deadcampfires, merely a few charred sticks crossed, and then to atrampled, blackened, sandy patch where a large fire had beenburned. A steer's skull marked the spot where there had been anaboriginal feast. What amazed Sterl was the completeness of it.No hide nor hoofs left!--Only a few bones divested of theirmarrow! From that spot foot tracks of a horde of natives led onin the direction of the trek.

CHAPTER 10

That day's trek, owing to the larger mob of cattle becominginfused with the excitement which dominated Ormiston's, proved tobe the longest so far. At camp, Sterl had little inclination andnot much opportunity to add to Slyter's worries by telling himthat Woolcott had been murdered. But Slyter confided in Sterl andRed that he had learned from the Danns of Ormiston's claimingWoolcott's fifteen hundred head of cattle for a gambling debt.Sterl was staggered, and the fluent Red for the moment renderedspeechless.

"Hathaway verified it," went on Slyter. "Told me Ormiston,Woolcott, and those drovers Bedford and Jack, gambled everynight."

When Slyter went about his tasks Red came out of his dumbshell. "Pard, thet ain't so. It's another of Ormiston's lies.Hathaway might believe it. He always went to bed with thechickens. For months, almost, either I have seen Ormiston withBeryl, or I have been with Jack an' Bedford. Cairds was nevermentioned to me an' you know I had a roll thet would have chokeda cow."

That night Leslie, in picking up a bundle of firewood,neglected to put on her gloves, and was severely bitten by ared-back spider. She made light of it, especially after Fridayreturned to paste some herb concoction of his own upon theswelling hand. Sterl had found a better remedy for snakebite thanwhisky. He plied the girl with coffee, and walked her up and downfor hours, keeping her awake until she fell asleep in his armsfrom exhaustion. Then he carried her to the wagon and laid her onher bed.

Then when they called Red to ride herd, it was to discoverthat he was ill with chills and fever, the like of which hadnever before befallen that cowboy. But he refused to stay in bed.By breakfast time, he was so ill he could not sit his horse.Stanley Dann declared that his ailment was intestinal and camefrom something he had eaten. Red swore and asked for whisky. Hetraveled that day on the dray, high on top of the great load offlour sacks, where he went to sleep.

Leslie should not have ridden at all, but neither her fathernor Sterl could dissuade her. "Shucks," she said, "I'm all right.I won't give in to thet pesky old red-back!" She was absorbingthe cowboy vocabulary.

Sterl rode close to her that day, during which she fell twiceout of her saddle. But she did not lose her sense of humor.

"Red said I'm gonna be a genuine cowgirl, didn't he?" she saidwhen she slid out of her saddle the second time. "Dog-gone it,Sterl, if I fall off again treat me to some of that--thatmedicine you gave me back at Purple Land camp."

Two days of laborious travel followed. Before sunset of thefirst, the expedition stalled on the banks of a considerablestream with steep banks. Even when the mob, driven across inadvance, had trampled out crude roads, it required eight horsesto drag each wagon across. Leslie was still too weak to brave thetreacherous current and Sterl, mounted on King, carried heracross in his arms. Mid-current, she looked up and saidsoftly:

"I'd like to ride all the rest of way like this."

"Yeah? Three thousand miles?" responded Sterl. And heregistered this little occurrence as one of the dangerousincidents--if not misfortunes--that were multiplying.

A dry camp that afternoon awakened Sterl anew to the alarmingprobability that lack of water headed Stanley Dann's list ofobstacles to the trek. Friday anticipated a native corroboreethat night, and it was forthcoming, with its accompaniment ofdingo choruses and dog howls. Dann's order was to let theaborigines alone, unless they stole into camp to attack. Morningdisclosed no evidence that the blacks had killed cattle, butSlyter shrewdly declared that their leader could have found outhad he put Friday and the cowboys to hunting tracks.

All day the smoke signals rose far ahead, the sun burnedhotter, the tiny flies swarmed invisibly around the riders' anddrovers' heads. At dusk flying foxes, like vampire bats, swishedand whirred over the camps; opposums and porcupines had to bethrust out of the way. Every piece of firewood hid a horde ofants, and as they crawled frantically away, Bill the cook scoopedthem back into the fire with a shovel.

Then there was a large insect which came out of decayedwood--blue-black, over an inch long--which was not a biter likethe fierce ants, but decidedly more annoying in the vile odor itgave off when discovered. Snakes, too became more common in thisbush. Sterl espied a death adder under his lifted foot andstepped on it before he could jump. After that he and Red did nottake off their chaps at the end of the day's trek; and Sterl cutdown an extra pair of his for Leslie to wear. The girl'sextraordinary delight in them was equaled by the picturesqueexaggeration of her charm.

For weeks after Woolcott's death Ormiston had kept mostly tohis camp. He had even somewhat neglected Beryl, a circumstanceRed had made the most of. Stanley Dann remarked that Ormiston hadtaken the Woolcott tragedy very grievously. Dann had beengratified by the drover's throwing his cattle in with the mainmob. The strained relation was certainly no worse, if it had notgrown better. But Sterl was not deceived by Ormiston. Red hadabandoned his plan of intimacy with Ormiston's drovers. He bidedhis time. He still clung to his belief that Beryl Dann would--beinstrumental in exposing Ormiston in his true colors.

One night, Red returned to camp rather earlier than usual; andhis look prepared Sterl for a disclosure.

"Pard, I jest happened to heah somethin'," he whispered,impressively, leaning his falcon-shaped red head to Sterl. "I wasafter a bucket of water for Beryl, kinda under cover of the bankwhere the brook was clean. Ormiston with Jack an' Bedford camealong above. I heahed low voices, kinda sharp, before they got tome. Then right above Ormiston spit out: 'No, I told you. Not tillwe get to the haidwaters of the Diamantina.'"

Sterl echoed his last four words. "Red, what do you figurefrom that?"

"Wal, it's plain as print so far. Whatever Ormiston has inmind it's to come off thar. I figure that those two hombres wantto pull off the deal sooner."

"You used to have brains. Cain't you help me figgerin' whatthe hell?"

"I'll try. Suppose I analyze this. Then you give me your oldcowboy American slant."

"Hop to it, pard."

"Ormiston wants to be a partner of Stanley Dann's after thetrek. Or to get control of a big mob of cattle, and marry Beryl.He is working his deal so that when he threatens to split outfrom this drive, Dann will give almost anything to keep him.Ormiston's drovers want a showdown for their labors or a speed-upof the break."

"You ain't calculatin', anythin' atall on our idee thetWoolcott was murdered?"

"That is a stickler, I admit, but I am trying to find a morecredible motive for those other Australians."

"Pard, listen to a little plain sense from a Texas hombrewho's knowed a thousand bad eggs...Ormiston is a drover, mebbe, acattleman, mebbe. He's after cattle, all he can steal!...It's acinch he killed Woolcott, or had one of his outfit do it.Woolcott probably bucked. Wanted to go back to Dann. An' he gotWoolcott's cattle, didn't he? The gamblin' debt can bediscounted. Ormiston is workin' to persuade some of Dann's ridersto side with him. I know thet. They jest damn near approached me!Wal, muss thet all up an' figger. Ormiston has control of threethousand haid. He'll get hold of more, by hook or crook. An'he'll split with Dann at the haidwaters of thet river, take Berylwith him by persuasion or force, an' light out for some place heis figgerin' on...Thet, my son, is what Old Dudley Texassays!"

"All same just another bloody rustler!"

"All same jest another bloody cow thief, like hundreds we'veknowed an' some we've hanged."

"Stanley Dann will never believe that until too late."

"Reckon not. But we might talk Slyter into findin' out he wasalive...Queer dee, ain't it?"

"Queer--sure!" returned Sterl.

"Red, we can't let it go on--come to a head."

"We jest can," retorted Red. "For the present.

"Somethin' will happen one of these days, jest like thet crackof Ormiston's I heahed today, an' always there's the chance Berylwill put us wise to Ormiston. I'm layin' low, Sterl. We've beenin some tough places. This is shore the toughest. Let's not letit get the best of us."

"Red Krehl, did I have to come way out here to Australia toappreciate you?" demanded Sterl. "You sense things beyondmy powers...But, old timer, I swear I'll rise to this thingas you have risen. And I'll take a long hitch in my patience."

CHAPTER 11

The trek plodded on, day after day. And more and more Sterlfelt himself back to the level of the unconscious savage asrepresented so strikingly in the black man Friday, who had mentalprocesses it was true, but was almost wholly guided by hisinstincts and his emotions. It was a good thing, he reflected. Itmade for survival. Thrown against the background of the live andinanimate forces of the earth, man had to go back. He discussedhis mood sometimes with his companions of his campfires. Slyterlaughed, "We call it 'gone bush.' I would say it denoted weakmentality!" Leslie gave proof to his theory by flashing, "Sterl,you make me think. And I don't want to think!" Stanley Dann said,"Undoubtedly a trek like this would be a throwback for most whitemen; unless they found their strength in God." Well, he himselfhad a job to do--to deal with Ormiston. When that was finished,he could revert to the savage!

Stanley Dann eventually arrived at the conclusion that any oneof several streams they had crossed might have been Cooper Creek,famed in the annals of exploration. But he admitted that he hadexpected a goodly stream of running water. Long ago, Sterlthought, Dann should have been warned by a sun growing almostimperceptibly hotter that water would grow scarcer. Still, alwaysin the blue distance, mountain ranges lent hope. Through thisbush, the endless monotony of which wore so strangely on thetrekkers that desert country would have been welcome, they nevermade an average of five miles a day. Dry camps occurred more andmore often; two-day stays at waterholes further added to thedelay.

In October the expedition at last worked out of that"Always-always-all-same-land," as Red Krehl named it, to thegradual slope of open grass leading down to what appeared to be aboundless valley to the west with purple mountains to the north.Water would come down out of them. A thread of darker greenpromised a river or stream. They were three days in reachingit--none too soon to save the cattle.

The mob got out of hand; its rush dammed the stream. Many ofthe cattle drowned; others were mired in the mud; a few weretrampled to death. The horses fared badly, though not to thepoint of loss.

"Make camp for days," was Stanley Dann's order, when mob andremuda had been droved out upon the green. The night watch wasomitted. Horses and cattle and trekkers rested from nightfalluntil sunrise.

Day disclosed the loveliest site for a camp, the freest fromflies and insects, the richest in color and music of innumerablebirds, the liveliest in game that the drovers had experienced.But ill luck still dogged the trek. Next morning, Larry reportedthat horses were missing from the remuda.

"Sterl," said Slyter, "I suppose that you, being a cowboy, cantrack a horse?"

"Used to be pretty good," said Sterl. He got his rifle, andstarted.

But he only lost himself in the deep bush, and continued to belost for three days. Afterward, he looked back on his adventurewith mixed feelings of chagrin and of glory in the experience.The chagrin rose from the fact that in an obscure stretch ofjungle he mistook the faint tracks of a band of cassowaries forthose of King's shod hoofs, nor realized it until he came upon aflock of these great, whiskyard, ostrich-like birds staring at himwith protruding, solemn eyes.

The rest, he remembered afterward only in snatches.

An open space where foliage and a cascade of the stream caughtan exquisite, diffused golden light breaking through blue riftsin the green dome overhead. Tiny flying insects, like sparks froma fire, vied with wide-winged butterflies in a fascinatedfluttering over a pool that mirrored them, and the greatopal-hued branches above, and the network of a huge-leafed vines,and the spears of lacy foliage. Flycatchers, birds, too beautifulto be murderers, were feeding upon the darting, wingedinsects.

A splash in a pool, and a movement of something live,distracted Sterl's attention from the tree tent he was examining.He saw a strange animal slide or crawl out on the bank. It had asquatty body that might have resembled a flat pig, but for thethick fur on its back. It had a long head, which took the shape,when Sterl located the eyes, of an abnormal and monstrous bill ofa duck. Sterl stared, disputing his own eyesight. But the thingwas an animal and alive. It had front feet with long cruel claws.Its back feet and tail were hidden in the grass. All of a suddenSterl realized that he was staring at the strangest creature inthis strange Australia, perhaps in the world, no less thanLeslie's much-vaunted duck-billed platypus.

Morning after a cool, wet night on the ground. Light ahead andopen sky prepared Sterl for a change in the topography of thebush. And a low hum of falling water was the voice of awaterfall. Out from under giant trees he stepped to the brink ofa precipice and to a blue sun-streaked abyss that brought him to astandstill.

The sun, gloriously red and blazing, appeared again to be inthe wrong place. Sterl had to reconcile himself that this burstof morning light came from the east. Yet no matter how badly aman was lost he dared not deny the sunrise. The abyss at his feethad the extraordinary beauty, if not the colossal dimensions, ofthe Arizona canyons he had known from boyhood. Up from his rightsounded a low, thunderous roar. By craning his neck he saw wherethe stream leaped off, turning from shining green to lacy white.It fell a thousand feet, struck a ledge of broken wall, cascadedover and through huge rocks, to leap from a second precipice,from which purple depths no murmur arose. Walls opposite whereSterl stood, rust-stained and lichened, dropped downprecipitously into shadow. On his own side the sun tipped theramparts with rose and gold, and blazed the great wall halfwaydown.

A bird, so beautiful in appearance and astounding in actionthat it halted him in his tracks. The spot was open to a littlesunlight, carpeted with fine brown needles like those from a pinetree. The bird espied Sterl, but that did not change its strangeand playful antics. It was bright with many colors, not quite solarge as an American robin or meadow-lark. This fairy creature ofthe bush skipped and hopped around so friskily that Sterl had tolook sharp and long to perceive all its lovely hue; but the mostpronounced was a golden yellow. There was brown, too, marked withwhite, and a lovely sheen of greenish-olive, like that on ahummingbird, and the under part appeared to be gray. Itsexquisite daintiness and sprightliness gave the bird some elfinquality, some spirit of the lonely bush. It seemed to Sterl thatthe lovely creature's dancing movements were a sort of playingwith leaves and twigs. It saw him, assuredly, out of bright darkeyes, and was not afraid. It might have been the incarnation ofjoy and life in that bushland. Then again he remembered Leslie'slecture on Australian wild life. It was the golden bowerbird.

At noon of the third day, Sterl felt his powers waning. Heneeded a long rest. Gathering a store of wood for several fires,he lay down in an open space near water and almost at once wentto sleep.

He was roused by a voice and a hand shaking his shoulder. Ablack visage, beaded with sweat, bent over him.

"Friday!" cried Sterl, in a husky voice, and he struggled tosit up. "You found--me?"

"Yes, boss. Black fella tinkit boss sit down quick."

"No. Boss fool!"

Friday had his wommera and spears in one hand, a small bag inthe other. "Meat," he said, and opened it for Sterl. Inside werethick strips of beef, cooked and salted, some hard damper, and aquantity of dried fruit. When had meat ever tasted so good!

"How far camp, Friday?" Sterl asked, between periods ofmastication.

"Close up." And the black made circles with his finger in themat of brown needles, to indicate how Sterl had traveled roundand round.

"Horses close up alonga water," volunteered Friday. "Blackfella findum." This was such a relief to Sterl that it assuagedhis mortification.

So at ten o'clock that night Sterl limped behind Friday intosight of a welcome campfire, where Slyter and his wife, Leslieand Red and Larry, kept a vigil that had only to be seen torealize their anxiety. The moment was more poignant that Sterlwould have anticipated. Red, the sharp-eared fox, heard themcoming, and as he saw them emerge from the gloom he let out hisstentorian, "Whoopee!" Slyter burst out in agitation thatsurprised Sterl: "It's Sterl! Bless our black man!" Leslie flewat Sterl, met him before he reached the fire, enveloped him witheager arms, crying out indistinguishable, broken words.

CHAPTER 12

The late October halt, after Sterl had come safely out of thejungle, seemed more than ordinarily marked by pleasant relationsamong the trekkers. But there was one exception. Sterl, going tothe stream for a bucket of water, encountered Ormiston and Berylsome rods away from the camp. The girl had a hand on Ormiston'sshoulder, who stood leaning against the log and facing Sterl. Shehad not seen the cowboy.

"Hazelton," spoke up Ormiston, "I'd never be afraid of beingtracked by you!"

Sterl passed on without a word, though he flashed a searchingglance at the drover. He heard Beryl ask: "Ash, whatever made yousay that?" If Ormiston replied to that query Sterl did nothear.

Back in camp Sterl related the incident to Red. The cowboyswore long and loud. "Thet's what's on the ----'s mind. He'sgonna slope sooner or later."

"Righto. But since he's secretive and close-mouthed, as weknow, why did he make that crack?"

"Pard, it was a slip."

"Yeah? There's going to be a reason for us to track him!"

"Beryl had a hand on Ormiston's shoulder," added Sterl,casually.

"Hell, thet ain't nothin'," returned the cowboy, gloomily.

"No? Well, spring it, pard!" shot back Sterl.

Red appeared bitter ashamed, but he did not avoid Sterl'sgaze. "I've seen Beryl in his arms--an' kissin' him back to beathell."

"Where?"

"By thet big tree where you jest met him. You see since theDanns throwed together with Ormiston an' Hathaway in one camp,Beryl and Ormiston have been thick as hops. I got sore an'jealous, an' I sneaked up on them at night. An' I'm gonna keep ondoin' it."

"Red, has Beryl ever kissed you?" asked Sterl, seriously.

"Want me to kiss an' tell?"

"Nonsense! This is different. Red, has she?"

"Wal, yes, a coupla times," admitted Red. "Not the devourin'kind she gave Ormiston. All the same it was enough to make meleave home. Sterl, don't blame the girl. Hell, you know girls,an' what this wild livin' does to them. Ormiston is a handsomecuss."

"Yes. But I can't forgive Beryl," returned Sterl, withpassion. "Listen, pard, I can pick a quarrel with Ormiston. Anyday. It'd be a fight. And he'd be out of the way, Lord knows,that might save the Danns."

"Righto, Sterl," rejoined Red, cool of voice and dark of brow."But shore as Gawd made little apples, if either of us boredOrmiston it'd queer us with these drovers. Let him hang himself.I'll go on spyin'. If Beryl doesn't give him away, he willhimself."

Stanley Dann had decided to break camp at dawn next day andcontinue the trek; and he called a conference at his campfire.All the invited were present except Larry, Cedric and Henley, thelatter one of Ormiston's drovers, who were on guard with the mob.Stanley Dann got up from his table with a paper in his hand, hiseagle eyes alight, his goldness, his magnificence and virility,impressively outstanding.

"Well, here we are, family and partners and drovers," hebegan, in his rich resounding voice, "at this pleasant camp, andit is an occasion to thank God, to take stock of the present, andrenew hope for the future. We are one hundred and fifty-sevendays and nearly six hundred miles on our great trek. Barring thetragic loss of our partner, Woolcott, we have been wonderfullyblessed and guided by Providence. We have lost only fourteenhorses--a remarkable showing--and two hundred head of cattle,including, of course, those we used for beef. Let me say thiscompany upholds the prestige of Australians as meat eaters!"

Dann consulted the paper in his hand, and went on: "We haveconsumed one fourth of our flour. Too much, but it cannot be putdown to extravagance or wastefulness. Tea--an abundance left.Also salt and sugar. One fifth of our stock of dried fruits isgone, and this is our worst showing. There is a ton or more oftinned goods left. In view of our good luck so far, I think itwell to have everyone present say how he feels about the trek.Now, Sister Emily, will you be the first to speak out?"

One by one all the women--Miss Dann, a spinster of forty, Mrs.Slyter of the weather-beaten face, Leslie with her wonderful eyesflashing, Beryl whose beauty graced the occasion--expressed theirhope for the future, their determination not to turn back. Thetall Hathaway had a tribute for their leader. Slyter spoke brief,eloquent words about their progress and the surety of success.Eric Dann said: "It has been far better than I believed possible.I have been wavering on my plan to stick to the old Gulftrek."

Stanley Dann let out a roar of approval and called lustilyupon Ormiston.

"Friends, I have not yet recovered from the loss of ourpartner Woolcott," he said, in a deep voice. "But still I see ourmarvelous success--so far. I may be hard put to make a decisionwhen we come to the headwaters of the Diamantina. Yet thereshould be one voice of warning. It is absolutely certain thatthis incredible good luck will not last."

Red Krehl nudged Sterl as if to confirm the thought thatformed in Sterl's mind.

"Hazelton, you, being an American trail driver, long versed inthis business of cattle and horses and men against the cruel andrugged ranges, you should have something unforgettable andinspiring to say to us novices at the game."

"I hope I have," rang out Sterl. "Stanley Dann, you are thegreat leader to make this great trek. On to the Kimberleys! Noheat, no drought, no flood, no desert--no man can stop us!"

Of all those who had spoken thus far only Sterl appeared tostrike fire from their leader. Then he called to Red:

"You--cowboy!"

"Dog-gone-it, boss," drawled Red, "I had a helluva niftyspeech, but I've clean forgot it. I've the same hunch as my pardheah. We cain't be licked. The thing's too big. It means too muchto Australia. Fork yore hosses, and ride!"

Four weeks later Sterl and Red discussing the situation asthey rode herd, were divided between a suspicion that Ormistonplotted to go on with Eric and Hathaway, if he could engineer thesplit with Stanley, in order to get possession of all theirstock, or cut off from all his partners and drove on alone tosome unknown destination. The former was Red's opinion, andlatter Sterl's.

All this time, they had been traversing an increasingly drycountry with a blazing brassy sky by day and a pitiless, starlitsky by night. Several series of two--and three-day treks withoutwater marked the approach to the Diamantina River. The cattle didnot suffer dangerously from thirst until the last arid spell.Then with two hot dry days and no prospect of relief, theadventurers faced their most serious predicament.

That second night all the drovers rode herd. Sterl hadobserved the absence of game and bird life, always an indicationof the lack of water. Friday encouraged Sterl with a hopeful,"Might be water close up." But close up for the black could havea wide range. A full moon was rising. The cattle were restless,bawling, milling; Sterl approached Red.

"Pard, what do you say to my riding ahead on a scout? If Ifind anything wet around twenty miles, I'll advise Dann to trekclear through tomorrow and tomorrow night."

"Wal, it's a hell of a good idee," declared the cowboy. "Goahaid. Thet is, if you reckon you can find yore way back!"

Red had never ceased to plague Sterl about getting lost. "Say,you could joke on your grandmother's grave!" retorted Sterl."I've a notion to bat you one!"

"I reckon we're workin' out on a plateau," said Red, changingthe subject. "Not one stream bed today. Rustle, pard!"

Sterl turned away toward the remuda to change horses. Hewanted to save King. The horses had been in need of water, butalways after dark, when the dew was wet on the grass, they hadslaked acute thirst. Sterl transferred saddle and bridle to thebig rangy sorrel, an animal he had not yet been able to tire.Then he set out, taking his direction from the SouthernCross.

Heat still radiated from the ground. But the night waspleasant. For two weeks and more the trek had been through opencountry. The heave of the land suggested a last mighty rolltoward the interminable level of the interior. Sterl rode throughbleached grass, silver in the moonlight. Stunted gum trees rearedspectral heads; there were dark clumps of mulga scrub and baremoon-blanched spaces, across which rabbits scurried. When atlength the glimmer of campfires failed to pierce the darkness,Sterl halted his horse for a moment.

Two hours of steady riding brought Sterl to the edge of anescarpment which fortunately presented no steep drop from thelevel. Declivities always meant difficulties for the traildriver, especially when they were not discovered until toolate.

The void beneath him appeared majestic in its immensity.Apparently land and sky never met. Far below, a shining ribbon ofa river catching the moonlight, made his heart leap. This couldnot be sand or a strip of glass or rock. It was water, and surelythe long-hoped-for Diamantina River. But how far? In thatrarefied atmosphere, under a soaring full moon, it might be a fewmiles away, and it could be a score. But surely it was within,reach of a twenty-four-hour trek.

At daybreak, the drovers came riding in by threes to getbreakfast. Sterl lost no time in telling Slyter the good news. Heand Red accompanied him to Dann's camp.

"Boss, I rode ahead last night. Found water," announced Sterl,bluntly.

"You did? Good-o, Hazelton," boomed Stanley Dann.

"It's a big river. Surely the Daimantina. I couldn't tell howfar. Twenty miles, maybe less."

"Twenty miles? Two days' trek!" ejaculated Eric Dann,disheartened. "We'll have a big loss."

Ormiston cursed roundly apparently venting his rage on Sterl,as if he could be blamed for a dire calamity. Sterl did not deignto notice him, and addressed their leader: "We can make it in onetrek."

Ormiston headed a furious opposition, in which, however,Stanley Dann did not concur. Sterl endeavoured to convince thedisgruntled and almost hopeless drovers, silencing all exceptOrmiston.

"You're a disorganizer," flashed Sterl, steely and cold."You're glad of anything that hinders us! You shut up, or I'llshut you up."

Ormiston took the threat sullenly.

"How should we make this long trek to water?" inquired StanleyDann.

"Take it slow all day, ease the mob along careful during thehottest hours. Then, after sunset push them. When the dew fallsthey can travel without breaking down."

"You heard Hazelton," thundered Dann. "His plan is sound.Wagons go ahead and make camp! Trek through to water!"

On Sterl's return to Styler's camp Red appeared supremelyelated. "Pard, did you see Beryl?"

"No. Was she there?"

"Sure she was. All eyes. Jest as if she never seen you before.Sterl, she'd like you if it wasn't for Ormiston. Mebbe, she doesanyhow. But she's scared of that geezer."

"Red, will that showdown with him ever come?"

"It'll come! Be shore you have eyes in the back of yorehaid."

Leslie was at her morning chore of feeding her pets. Jack, thekookaburra, was jealous of new birds and Cocky squalled from thetop of the wagon.

Sterl told her of his trip during the night and his report toDann. "You go with the wagons," he concluded.

"Umpumm. I'm good for twenty-four hours."

"But I'd rather you'd take it easy whenever possible. You gowith your Dad!"

"Are you my boss, Sterl Hazelton?" she retorted,rebelliously.

"Not yet. But considering the remote possibility of mybecoming that--and your cantankerous disposition--don't you thinkit'd be a good idea to get some practice?"

Her smooth nut-brown face slowly grew suffused with a coursingred blood, and her wide eyes fell. She was tongue-tied. Herbreast was swelling. And she fled, leaving her pets in noisyclamor.

They rode back to Dann. "Boss, something I forgot to tellyou," said Sterl. "When you reach the river be sure to drive thecattle to either side of the trek for camp, because this mob areliable to stampede when they smell water."

At sunset that day Sterl sat astride King on the rim of theplateau, not far from where he had seen the valley by moonlight.Close at hand the front of the great mob of cattle, like adust-clouded flood, was pouring wearily over the brink. As Sterlhad hoped and predicted, they had ended the day's trek withsomething to spare. Down grade, in the night, with the dewfalling, the beasts could plod and sway on until the scent ofwater energized them. And if they were at all like cattle of thewestern ranges they might stampede. Sterl had seen ten thousandbuffalo pile into a river, to enact a spectacle he had neverforgotten. If the mob and remuda had belonged solely to him hecould not have taken their safety and well-being more toheart.

The cowboys rode together down the slope as red dusk mantledthe scene. Then as night fell they drifted apart, yet withincalling distance. Friday for once had ridden on a wagon. Larrywas ahead, at the left of the mob, and Drake behind Sterl. Themoon came up to lighten the shadows.

Down grade, through thick grass, dew laden, the mob laboredand the trekkers followed. By midnight the slope had begun tolevel out. Kangaroos, wallabies, rabbits, emus were roused fromtheir beds, to scamper away. King jumped out of his tracks morethan once at the hiss of a snake. The tedium wore on Sterl. Therewas nothing to do but sit his saddle. King did not need directionor urge. He had become like a shepherd dog. Often Sterl fellasleep for a few moments. Two nights without rest or sleepreminded him of the Texas cattle trail when the rivers wereup.

At daybreak, Sterl huddled in his saddle, half alseep, hiseyes closed, his mind almost a blank. A yell from Red, however,the old Comanche war whoop, brought him erect and startled. Redwas waving his sombrero and pointing toward the river--nearby,marked by a line of timber.

"Look, pard! Leslie ridin' down on us hell-bent for election!Larry's meetin' her."

CHAPTER 13

Leslie pulled Lady Jane to a halt beside Sterl. The horse wasdripping water in little streams. Leslie was wet to her waist.Her eyes glowed dark with excitement.

"Girl, you didn't swim that river for fun?" demandedSterl.

"Dad sent--me," panted Leslie.

"We couldn't cross. River too deep--with steep banks. Dad saidwe'd have a job. Stanley Dann's orders are to hold the mob onthis side--to drove them that way--two miles up--where the banksare not so steep."

"Leslie, you should have met us five miles out, at least,"rejoined Sterl, seriously. "These cattle are thirsty. They'retired and cross. If they smell water..."

"When they smell it," interrupted Red. "Rustle, Sterl. Wegotta be quick. Come, Larry. We'll try to turn the leadersupstream."

Urging King into a gallop to the rear, Sterl, with Leslieracing beside him, yelled Dann's orders to the drovers in awarning voice.

Between the larger mob and Ormiston's there were four drovers,two on each side, far up the wide lane. The cattle still ploddedalong with heads down, as if every step would be their last.Sterl caught their odor. He rode over to the partners, with Drakeand Leslie at his heels.

"We've orders from Dann. Cattle must be bunched and turnedupstream. River deep. High banks. Get your drovers out frombetween."

Ormiston added a dark frown to his forbidding expression. "Wedon't have our mob mixing with Dann's."

"You can't help it," declared Sterl, curtly.

"That's what you say, Mr. Cowboy. We will keep them separated."

"Hathaway, you have some sense, if this man hasn't," barkedSterl. "The cattle are parched. When they smell water they can'tbe held or turned. They'll stampede!"

Roland came galloping up, red-faced, sweating, calling onOrmiston to drove his mob to the east.

"Mind your own business," shouted Ormiston.

"You will like hell!" returned Sterl. "Rollie, ride throughand warn Dann's drovers to rustle out of there. Back thisway!"

Sterl wheeled King and was away like the wind. Leslie andDrake came along. Halfway round the bigger mob, Sterl waved thedrovers on that side to ride up toward the front. They strung outafter Drake. Soon Sterl, accompanied by Leslie, came up withLarry and Red.

"Stubborn as mules!" shouted Red.

"No wonder. But we've got to push them."

"Ormiston doesn't know cattle. He said he wouldn't let his mobmix with Dann's."

"This's gonna be about as funny as death for them droversbetween!"

Sterl stood up in his stirrups to gaze across the mob."They're riding out. The last two of Ormiston's men. But thatfellow up front..."

"We cain't wait, pard," yelled Red, pulling his gun. "Leslie,keep back a little."

Then Red rode up to the herd, gun high over his head, to yelland shout. Larry took his cue and followed suit. Cedric andDrake, with the drovers farther back, let loose with guns andlungs.

The front of the great mob, like the sharp end of a wedge,roused, lunged, headed away from a direct line toward the river.That relieved Sterl exceedingly. The turn was not enough, but ithad started. Cattle, like sheep, blindly follow the leaders. Thetrampling of many hoofs, the knocking of horns, the increase inhoarse bawling, indicated the start of the milling that Sterl wasso keen to accomplish. Something like a current ran all the wayback to the rear. Then he looked ahead. They had the apex of themob quartering away from a direct line to the river. But theriver took a bend to the eastward, and looked less than two milesaway!

Suddenly from the far side of the herd sounded a tramplingroar that drowned yells and gunshots. Sterl's piercing yell was awhisper in his ears. He had heard that kind of roar. Icy chillschased up his spine. Ormiston's mob was charging straight aheadto meet the milling front of that vast wedge of cattle!

Then Sterl espied the one drover trapped in the swiftlynarrowing space. The man saw his peril, but made the mistake ofdashing to the fore, hoping to get out of the closing gap. Hiscalculation, however, did not allow for the curving front of thelarger mob, and the speed of the smaller one. He was headed off,hemmed in. A moment later there was a terrific impact--a head-oncollision of these two fronts. Sterl saw the white horse and itsrider go down in a sea of horns, heads, dust. A rattling crash ofOrmiston's mob, colliding with Dann's all down the line, drownedthe trample of hoofs. Still, only the head of Dann's mob, and thefar edge, appeared to be affected. A smashup like that did notnecessarily mean a stampede. Sterl thought derisively of thebull-headed Ormiston. If the mob stampeded, he was the one whowould suffer most. His branded cattle would be the first totumble over the river embankment. It would serve him right,thought Sterl, but what a pity so many cattle must be drowned andtrampled!

Then it came to him that Ormiston's mob, to windward, hadcaught the fatal scent. After three days of heat and dust,without a drink, they smelled the river and were off, hell-bent.Water. If they had the scent in their dry nostrils, Dann's herdwould catch it soon.

But despite Sterl's readiness for the inevitable shock, whenDann's mob leaped into swift action and an appalling thunderboomed and the ground shook as if in earthquake, he screamed withall his might and never heard his own voice. Mushrooming yellowclouds of dust rolled back over the mob, moving as one animal,covering them, swallowing them up.

Sterl's quick eyes were the first to see that a spur of theherd had shot out below him, between him and the other riders,and swung wide in a swift, enveloping sweep. Red and Larry hadgone on; but Leslie! They were cutting her off. Sterl had to getto her in quick time. With the thought, he had King racing downthe line. Lady Jane was fast, Sterl had no fear that she couldnot outrun the wildest of cattle. But being a mare of greatspirit she might act up at the crucial moment.

This was the first time that Sterl had ever extended King.Fleet? He was like the wind. Fortunately Leslie saw him coming,and then saw the spur of cattle. She did not lose her head. Quickas a flash she jerked Lady Jane away from that frightful,oncoming rush of hoofs, heads, horns. Plunging under the surpriseand pain of the spurs, Lady Jane leaped like an arrow from abow.

At this juncture King caught up with her. Sterl pointed toLeslie's stirrups. She was quick to grasp his meaning--to slipher feet almost out, and ride on her toes, so that in case Sterlsaw fit he could lift her out of the saddle. Sterl's terror lefthim. The girl could ride and she could be trusted.

Sterl urged King to the fore again, with the object of turningthe leaders of that spur to the right. The black, magnificent inaction, drove right to the front. A lean, rangy steer, red-eyedand wild, led that mutiny. Sterl drew and fired. The great steerplunged, to plow the earth. The others overran him, leaped andswerved. Larry and Red came up with flaming guns. The droversbehind were lost in dust. The three turned that spur back and inless than a quarter of a mile the mutineers had joined the mainmob. To the left, scarcely farther than that, Sterl saw thetimber belt and the shining river. It was wide, and the oppositebank looked steep and high. Farther upstream, it appeared toslope gradually. As the mob was headed quarteringly up the riverthere was some hope that a major catastrophe had been averted.All that could possibly be done by Sterl and his comrades and thedrovers sweeping from behind, had been accomplished--and it was agood job that saved thousands of cattle.

Sterl, never forgetting Leslie, gazed back to espy hertrotting Lady Jane at a goodly distance behind. Red was ridingahead toward a ridge under which the stampede was rolling. Sterl,and all the others, joined him on this vantage point.

Just under the watchers swept a mighty torrent of beef,indistinct through the streaming dust. Following that floodforward, Sterl's sight came to the front of the mob. It swept on,swallowing up the green, headed for the bend of the river!

The vanguard rolled out of sight, to reappear in splittingaround trees, to plunge over the bank in one long cascade thathit the water with a tremendous splash. The bank had a drop oftwenty feet. There ensued a threshing melee. The foremost had nochance to rise under the shock of following lines. But presentlyout of the spouting, muddy splashes heads of swimming cattleappeared. They milled around in bewilderment while the ghastlydownpour of heavy bodies continued. Some struck out for theopposite shore. The roar lessened in volume, changed into anothersound--the long-drawn bawl of frenzied cattle.

The imperturbable Red was the first to recover. He lighted acigarette.

"Not too bad! Gawd A'mighty shore is on Stanley Dann's side! Iwouldn't have given a handful of Mexican pesos for thet herd. An'la an' behold heah they air, most of them, swimmin' acrost,wadin' out."

"Men," ejaculated Drake, "a bridge of cattle saved ourmob!"

"Yes! And that bridge was Ormiston's! He wasn't going to lethis mob mix with Dann's!"

"Haw! Haw!" rolled out Red in caustic mirth, "Wal, fellers,Ormiston's cattle got the start! An' am I tickled!"

Again Sterl surveyed the river. "Let me have Larry, Red andCedric. There's a good many crazy cattle swimming downstream. Andin the middle there's an unholy mess milling around. We'll turnthem upstream. Some of them are going to drown, Drake. You seethat. Take the rest of the men and rustle up to where the cattlecan wade out."

"Fellers, I see Ormiston's outfit up there," interposed Red,pointing his cigarette. "Trailin' up his mob! I'd like to heahhim when he sees thet animal bridge of cattle wearin' hisbrand."

Presently Sterl found a ravine that opened at the edge of thewater. "Leslie, this will be work. Won't you go back tocamp?"

"Of course, if you say so. But mayn't I help? Sterl, you arealways trying to save me from--from everything. I want to 'takemy medicine,' as Red calls it."

"Righto," declared Sterl, heartily. "You've got more sensethan I have. And I've more sentiment than you."

"So you say, cowboy."

They reached the river where the ravine ended level with thewater. "Load your guns, boys," advised Sterl, suiting action towords. "Shooting in front of a steer or cow will save swimmingyour horses."

King did not need to be urged into the river, as did the otherhorses. Red called the black a duck. Sterl surveyed the widechannel where just above them thousands of cattle wereswimming.

"Red, I don't like this," he called. "It's a long swim. If ahorse gave out it'd be good night for the horse. Leslie, stickclose to me."

They headed up the river, in the face of as remarkable aconglomeration of animals as Sterl had ever seen. Yells and shotsof their riders, soon had all the stragglers headed in the rightdirection. Sterl made a hasty judgment that there were fivethousand cattle in the river. A long string were wading outabove. The danger point appeared to be less than a quarter of amile beyond--a mass of cattle twisting, plunging, in an intricatetangle.

"Sterl, look on the bank," shrieked Leslie.

Then Sterl espied Ormiston, with Hathaway and his drovers onthe shore above the yellow, trampled slope which the cattle hadcut through the bank. Below them stretched a long line of deadand dying cattle--the bridge of death. Ormiston, on foot, ragedto and fro, flinging his arms, stamping. Sterl cupped his handsaround his mouth and yelled in stentorian voice: "HEY, YOUDUMBHEAD! KILL THE DYING CATTLE!" Ormiston heard, for he roaredcurses back. Some of the drovers with Ormiston heeded Sterl'shumane suggestion, and began to shoot. Sterl made for a strip ofsandy bank, beyond the bend and on the far side. King gave a hugeheave, and then appeared to breathe normally again. Sterl rode toa point even with the upper edge of the mob, and surveyed thescene. The river was full of cattle so closely packed that steersand cows would lunge up on others, and sink them. Across, nearerthe other side, Red and his two comrades had their contingent ofstragglers headed out. On second glance Sterl saw that the dozenor more drovers strung out behind the great mob, shooting,yelling, making splashes, had turned the tide in that quarter.The rear and center areas of cattle were headed across, but couldnot make much headway owing to the eddying mass of animals inmidstream.

Sterl clucked to King, and soon he was swimming gallantly tojoin the other horses. Red, mounted on Jester, had untied hislasso. Cedric and Larry, who followed him closely, had exchangedtheir guns for ropes. When he reached the center of the millingmob, Red whirled the loop around his head, with the old,trenchant cry: "Ki-yi! Yippi-yip!" and let it fly to rope a bigsteer around the horns. Turning Jester toward the bank. Redliterally dragged that steer out of the wheeling circle. It madea break. And a break like that was a crucial thing for a herd ofstampeded cattle. Larry and Cedric followed suit. Then one steerand cow and another and another got into those openings, untilthe wheel of twisting horns and snouts broke and a stream ofcattle, like oil, flowed away from the mob. In less time than ithad taken for Red and his followers to break the milling mass,the whole mob was on the move across the river.

Sterl experienced a vast relief when he, the last of thedrovers to mount the far bank of the Diamantina and go throughthe trampled muddy belt of brush and timber, saw the great mobquietly grazing as if no untoward event had come to pass.

"This cain't be the place to ford the wagons," observed Redwhen Sterl caught up.

"Farther up," returned Sterl. "I see low banks and bars. It'lltake time, but be easy. It's afternoon already and Dann willhardly order us to cross today."

They recrossed the river without incident, to be met byLeslie. Stanley Dann called them over to where the leaders stoodgrouped. Ormiston, despite his tan, showed an unusual pallor.Sterl felt that this queer composite of fool and villain wouldhave blamed the stampede upon his partners and their drovers, ifthere had been any possible excuse.

"Men, it is our first major disaster," boomed Stanley Dann."That stampede could not have been avoided. I commend you all forheroic work--Hazelton particularly, with Krehl, and Larry andCedric. You save the main mob twice, first when you turned thehead up this way, and secondly when you got them out of thatanimated whirlpool. I never saw the like."

"Thanks, boss. Thet last was jest a little mill. All in theday's ride," said Red.

"Dann, we lost one man," added Sterl.

"Yes. Ormiston's drover, Henry Ward. He was warned. But he wasoverbold and befuddled. Poor fellow!"

"Who warned him?" queried Sterl, bluntly.

"Why, Ormiston sent a drover, he said," returned theleader.

"Ormiston did nothing of the kind," denied Sterl. "When werode around to the rear of the herd, to give your orders,Ormiston grew furious. He said he wouldn't let his mob mix withyours. I told him he couldn't help it. He told me to mind my ownbusiness. It was Drake who sent Roland to ride between your moband Ormiston's to warn the drovers to come out. Roland, back meup here."

"Yes, sir. Hazelton is right," replied Jones, frankly.

"Ormiston, this report hardly agrees with what you said,"declared Dann. "If it is true, you are responsible for Ward'sdeath."

"What do I care for these lie-mongers?" stormed Ormiston, hisbold eyes popping. "I gave you my version. Believe it ornot!"

Roland Jones thrust forward a reddening visage. "See here, Mr.Ormiston, don't you call me a liar."

"Bah, you big lout! What are you going to do about it?"

"Men, the situation is bad enough already," said Stanley Dann,calmly. "I'll not permit fighting. We've had a trying day, andwe're upset."

They all heeded the patient leader's wisdom, except Ormiston.Not improbably he saw opportunity to flay without risk tohimself, or else at times his temper was ungovernable.

"Dann, these riffraff drovers of yours haven't a pound totheir names. They can't pay for the loss of my cattle. I demandthat of you!"

"Very well. I'll be glad to make up for your loss. It was mygain. Your cattle saved mine," boomed the leader.

Red Krehl let out a sibilant hiss. Ormiston's rolling eyeslighted avariciously. Sterl interrupted his reply to Dann. Hespurred King into a jump to confront the drover.

"Ormiston, you go to hell!" said Sterl, with a stinging coldcontempt that a whole volley of epithets could never haveequaled. For once Ormiston's ready retort failed. With a gestureto his lieutenants, Bedford and Jack, he wheeled his horse androde toward camp.

"Pard, Dann's gonna ask you to make a count of the daidcattle," whispered Red. "An' you lie like a trooper."

Sterl made no reply, though he received that suggestion mostsympathetically. He turned to Leslie.

"Les, it'll be a dirty bloody mess. Don't go."

"Why not, Sterl?"

"Why? Heavens, you're a girl! Not a hard, callous,blood-spilling man, used to death!"

"Yeah?" she said, flippant on cracking ice and airing hercowboy vocabulary, "Well, I've a hunch there'll be another bloodydeath around here pronto--and I'll be tickled pink."

Stanley Dann rode the hoof-torn slant of recently plowedearth, gazing down at the mashed bloody bodies of cattle, all thegrotesque horned heads pointing to the sky, mouths open, tonguessticking out, staring dead eyes.

"Sterl, what is your count?" he asked, tersely.

"Boss, I'd rather not say," replied Sterl, with a deprecatoryspread of his hands. "I'm only fair on the count. Red has alwaysbeen the most accurate and reliable counter of stock we ever hadon our ranges."

"Very well, Red. I'm sure you could have no higherrecommendation. I'll rely upon you. How many?"

"Wal, boss, I'm shore surprised," returned Red, with an air ofperfect sincerity, "I was afeared we'd lost a damn sight more'nwe really have. Thet water was shallow all along heah. I seen thecattle pitchin' up the mud. But they're layin' only about threedeep heah. Yes, sir! We're darned lucky. I been countin' allalong, an' my tally is just three hundred an' thirteen.Preecislee. An' I'll gamble on thet."

"Is it possible?" boomed the drover, elated. "I am poor incalculation. I thought we had lsot a thousand head."

"No, indeedee, boss," returned Red, emphatically. "You take mytally. I'm kinda proud of my gift."

"Righto. It's settled. How fortunate we are, after all! I havebeen blessed with my faith in divine guidance!"

CHAPTER 14

Guard duty was split that night, half the drovers riding herdfrom dark till midnight, and the other half from then tillsunrise. It was a needless precaution, for, as Sterl told Slyter,the cattle were almost too tired to graze.

Next morning Friday greeted Sterl with an enigmatic: "Blackfella close up."

"Bad black fella, Friday?"

"Might be some. Plenty black fella."

"How do you know?" queried Sterl, curiously.

"Lubra tellum."

Sterl told Slyter, who burst out that it was about time."Except once," he went on, "we've had no trouble with abo's. Andwe expected that to be the worst of our troubles."

"All same plenty bimeby," put in Friday with his air ofmystery.

"What're the orders, Slyter?" asked Sterl. "Transport wagonsover the river."

"Wal, it'll be one sweet job. Whereabouts?" asked Red.

"Somewhat above where we droved the mob yesterday."

"Look aheah, boss. Thet's an orful place. No ford atall. Weoughta go up the river a ways. This is just a big pond. It'stowards the end of the dry season, and shore as shootin' thisriver ain't runnin'. I'll bet we could find shallow fords."

"Dann's orders, Red. And he's mad this morning."

"Mad? Good heavens! Fust time or I'll eat my sombrero. Gosh,I'm glad he's human, ain't you, Sterl? What about?"

"I'm not certain, but I think it's Ormiston."

"Slyter, does Dann really expect to get across today with thisoutfit?" asked Sterl, skeptically.

"By noon, he says!"

By a half hour after sunrise Dann had all the wagons packed.They started, with Slyter's remuda following in charge of Larryand the cowboys. Dann, who drove the leading wagon, halted on thebank of the river some distance above where the stampede hadcrossed the day before. He sent for Sterl, who found him arguingwith Eric. Ormiston stood by, taciturn and brooding.

"Hazelton," boomed the leader. "This is the place where we'regoing to cross. Eric is against my judgment. Ormiston swearshe'll drove his mob back to this side. Will you take charge?"

"Yes, sir. It can't all be done today," answered Sterl,earnestly. "But all goods must be crossed before dark because theabo's will be here by night. It's a pack job. Give me twentyriders. Five changes of horses. We'll empty the wagons and drays.Each rider will carry over what he can carry safely and keep dry.Provisions to go first."

"Men," boomed the leader, "you all heard Hazelton. Take ordersfrom him. Let's unhitch and get at it!"

"Dann, I want a word in edgewise," demanded Ormiston.

"Ashley, I heard you. No more! I forgot to tell you that Iordered your brand burned on three hundred odd of my cattle, assoon as we cross."

Red had already made for Roland's wagon, and dismounted thereto begin unloading. Sterl joined him. Leslie was putting her petsinto cages, much to their vociferous disgust.

"Sterl, I've a hunch Stanley Dann will ride roughshod over ourfriend Ormiston one of these days," said the cowboy.

"You haven't a corner on all the hunches," retorted Sterl. "Ihad that figured long ago. Beryl now is the last connectinglink."

"Bet yore life, pard. An' I'll bust thet!"

"All right. Go over to Beryl and tell her I sent you to packher and her treasures across the river. Savvy?"

"Dog-gone yore pictoors!" ejaculated Red, rapturously. "Inever thought of thet. Watch me!" And he strode away.

When again Sterl encountered Red, never had he seen thatcowboy in such a transport.

"Pard, bless yore heart. Beryl's jest about eatin' out of myhand," whispered Red, huskily. "She'd been cryin'. I reckon herDad must have hopped her. What do you think she said--'Sterl is abig help to Dad. He'd be a good sort if he wasn't hipped overthet chestnut-haired kid!' Beryl wanted to know how I'd get heracross, an' I said I'd pack her in my arms if she was afraid toride. She said thet would make her look a little coward, whichshe swore she was. An' she said she'd ride if I came along closeto her. I reckon I'll take her and Miss Dann together."

"Righto. I'll send Friday across to watch the stuff."

In short order Sterl had twenty riders, not including Leslieand himself, swimming their horses across the river with packs infront and on their shoulders. Friday grasped King's long tail andheld on, to be dragged over. On the return, Sterl met Ormistonand Hathaway in midstream, and farther on, the Danns.

It required twenty trips for each rider to unload Slyter'swagon to the extent where it would be safe to ferry it across.Then ten men lifted the half-loaded wagon-bed off the wheels,carried it down to the river and set it in the water. It floated.It was a boat. It did not leak. With the use of long ropes and ateam of horses on the far bank the start was made. There was nomishap. The heavy wheels, dragged along by ropes, gave a gooddeal more trouble. But they were soon across and up the bank. Ina few more minutes the wagon was set up and reloaded. Leslie wasas happy as her birds, and they squawked their glee.

"You were fine, kid," complimented Sterl. "That'll do for you.This hot sun will dry you pronto."

"Plenty smokes, boss," said Friday, who sat in the shadewhittling a new boomerang. Sterl saw them far off on thehorizon.

"Watchum close, Friday."

This fording supplies and belongings across the Diamantinabegan as a colorful, noisy, mirthful, splashing procession. Butby noontide the labor ceased to be fun. By midafternoon theriders were sagging in their saddles, soaked with sweat andwater, dirty, unkempt. The other drays and wagons were notcalked; they had to be fully unloaded. That was a harder job.Sunset found the drovers with most of their outfit on the rightbank of the river, but half a dozen wagons, with harness andtools, were still left behind.

As the cowboys rode herd that night, big fires burned on theother shore, and hordes of blacks murdered silence with theircorroboree over the dead cattle.

"Gosh, what a fiesta, pard," said Red. "If them cannibalsdon't eat themselves to death they'll foller us till hell freezesover, an' thet ain't gonna be soon in this heah hot country."

With all hands, and the partners doing their share, thetoilsome job of crossing was completed by midafternoon. Ormiston,reversing himself, chose to stay on Dann's side of the river. Theleader ordered one day's halt in the new camp, to rest and drythings out. He said to Sterl, "Hazelton, I know more about cattlerushes and crossing rivers, thanks to you."

Sterl wondered why Eric Dann did not remember this river,though on his former trek he had undoubtedly crossed it--surelyfarther up. He strolled out in the open late that day, to take a"look-see," as the Indians used to call it, and stretch hiscramped and bruised legs. Across the river he saw hundreds ofblacks, like a swarm of ants, noisy and wild.

Sterl was impressed by the river-bottom valley. Despite theheat and the dry season, grass was abundant and luxuriant.Waterfowl swept by in flocks, and the sandbars were dotted withwhite and blue herons. When he went to bed, which was early afterdark, he heard them flying overhead, uttering dismal croaks.

Next day the sky was black with buzzards, flocks of whichspiraled down to share the feast with the aborigines. Kangaroos,wallabies, emus, rabbits were more abundant than at any othercamp for weeks. They were tame and approached to within a fewrods of the wagons. Parrots and cockatoos colored the gum treesalong the river-banks.

At this Diamantina camp Leslie noted in her journal, "Fliessomething terrible!" And so they were. Used as Sterl had gottento the invisible little demons and the whirling dervishes, herethey drove him crazy if he did not cover his face. In the heat,that was vastly uncomfortable. But it was the trekkers'misfortune to fall afoul of a bigger and meaner fly--a bold blackgreen-winged fellow that could bite through shirts. Red had beenthe first to discover this species, to which Slyter could notgive a name. Friday said: "Bite like hellum."

Off again, roughly following the old trail of some former trekup the Diamantina. Travel was slow, but easy. Red had been rightin his opinion that the river had gone dry. Two miles above thefirst camp the trekkers could have crossed without wetting theirfeet.

Ten days along this river bed of waterholes and dry stretchestallied about a hundred miles, not good going to the cowboys, butsatisfactory to their serene leader. The grass did not fail. Insome deep cuts verdure of tropical luxuriance marked furtheradvance toward eternal summer. But when the sun grew hot and themyriads of flies appeared, the trek became a matter of grimendurance. Sterl covered his face with his scarf and let King orSorrel or Duke or Baldy graze along behind the remuda at will.Hours on end without one word spoken! Friday stalking alongcarrying his weapons, tireless on bare feet, ever watching thetelltale smoke signals on the horizon! Red, slumped in his saddleor riding sidewise, smoking innumerable cigarettes, lost in hisunthinking enchantment! The wagons rolling along, creeping likewhite-spotted snakes, far to the fore! The mob of cattle grazingon contentedly! The drovers, lost in habit now, nailed to theirsaddles, indifferent to leagues and distances!

Sterl marveled at Leslie Slyter. She rode with the drovers allthe way. So sun-browned now that the contrast made her hairgolden. She was the most wide-awake, though she sometimes tookcatnaps as they trekked on. How many times Sterl saw her faceflash in his direction! Ever she turned to him, to see if he wasthere, absorbed in her dream.

The long, hot days wore on to the solemn starry nights, packedwith dread of the unknown and the possible, separated fromunreality and dream by the howls of wild dogs and the strangewailing chant of the aborigines. The waterholes in the Diamantinafailed gradually. But the myriads of birds and hordes of beastsmultiplied because there were fewer watering places for them. Onenight, at a camp Leslie had named "Oleander," Sterl strolled withher to the bank of the river, where it was narrow and the bedfull of water. When dusk fell and the endless string of kangaroossilhouetted black against the gold of the horizon had passed by,there began a corroboree of the aborigines on the opposite bank.It was the closest these natives had been to a camp. By the lightof their bonfires Sterl and Leslie could see the wildceremony.

The cat-eyed Red came along the bank, walking as easily as ifit had been day. He propped down on a log beside them, indulgedin a little cowboy persiflage, before he came to the point. "Ibeen spyin' as usual. Hasn't been much good lately, till tonight.But I always keep sayin' it'll come some day. An' we got nothin'but time on our hands. Gosh, Leslie, what date is it, anyhow?"

"My journal says December fourth."

"Jumpin' Jehosaphat!" ejaculated Red. "Near Christmas!"

"Maybe it'll please you to know that this Christmas I canremember last Christmas--and be far happier," said Sterl.

"Please me? Wal! All I can think of now is Gawd blessLeslie!"

"Me! Why should God bless me?" inquired Leslie. Intuitivelyshe divined that she had taken the place of another woman.

Red gave her no satisfaction. Then seriously: "Sterl, I wassnoopin' about early after supper, an' I heahed Ormiston talkin'low to Bedford. Near as I can remember heah's their talk word forword. Ormiston first: 'Tom, I tell you I won't go any fartherwith Dann than the forks of this river.' An' Bedford asked, 'Whynot?' An' Ormiston said: 'Because I don't know the country acrosstoward the Warburton River. It's two hundred odd miles from thehead of the Diamantina through the mountains to my station. Ifthe rains don't come we'll lose all my cattle.' An' Bedford said:'Why not go on with Dann till we make sure of Hathaway's mob? An'also till the rains do come?'

"'I'll have his mob an' some of Dann's--you can lay to thet,'says Ormiston.

"'In thet case it's all right. Jack an' Morse have beenkickin'. They want to make sure of more cattle. They came in onthis because of a stake worthwhile--somethin' thet they could endthis bush-rangin' on.' Then Ormiston stopped him for fearsomebody was listenin'. He left, an' I seen him later with Beryl.How do you figger it?"

Sterl's speech flowed like running water. "Ormiston and hisdrovers have been rustling, in a two-bit way, until this Danntrek. Now they're playing for big stakes. Ormiston is the boss.He fooled the Danns. His drovers are all in it, aiming to leadsome of Dann's men to their side. Old stuff. You remember howcheap, easygoing cowboys used to fall. How many have we seenhanged? They murdered Woolcott, got his mob. They haveHathaway's, and will do for him, sure as I know rustlers.Ormiston has a range somewhere over the mountains east of thehead of the Diamantina. The pot will boil over up at the forks ofthis river. Ormiston means to get more cattle by hook or crookand then shake us. Damn it, the thing looms bad!"

"Pard, I should snicker to snort. We've never met its equal,let alone its beat. Bet you haven't figgered Beryl. Where's shecomin' in?"

"Thunder and blazes! I forgot Beryl,"

"Yeah. But I haven't. An' I say she's the pivot on which thisdeal turns. Ormiston's outfit haven't that hunch yet, I reckon.But we have."

"You bet. Red, that hombre will persuade Beryl to go withhim--or he'll take her anyway."

"Do you reckon he can persuade her?"

"I hate to think so--but I do."

Red's voice sank to a whisper. "Hey--I see someone comin'!" Hepeered like a nighthawk into the gloom up the riverbank. "HolyMackeli, talk about the devil! It's Beryl an' Ormiston. Let'shide. Heah, this way!"

In another moment Red had himself and comrades under the bank,where a ledge ran out a few feet, and some long plumed grassesobscured it from sight above.

A rustle of weeds above, a footfall, and then Beryl's richvoice: "Here, Ash, this is far enough. I'd like to hear thecorroboree."

"Yes, you like those damned niggers. I smell cigarette smoke!Somebody has been here," came in Ormiston's voice, guarded andlow.

"Well, they're gone. And all I smell is cooking meat."

"Hazelton has been here with that damned little baggage,"growled Ormiston.

"Hazelton is no good. Like as not he's one of those Americangunmen. A killer! Jack saw six notches cut on his revolver. Thatmeans the blighter has killed six men, at least. I'd be a fool toprovoke him further."

"Indeed you--would be, Ash," she said. "He has made himselfvaluable. Dad has come to rely upon him."

"The Yankee is a help, I'm bound to admit that. But, Beryl, Ican't stand your praising him. I see him watching you. He is asfascinated by your beauty as that redheaded churn of his. Theireyes just gloat over you. Beryl, you are so lovely! I'm mad overyou. I love you beyond reason!"

"Oh, Ash--do you, darling?" she murmured. "Ash--you!--mustnot..." she remonstrated, but it was the remonstrance of love,that invites rather than repels. That next tense moment, with itsmurmurings, must have been a dreadful ordeal for Red Krehl.Sterl's heart was heavy for his comrade.

"Ash, darling, we came away to talk seriously," said Beryl,evidently regaining composure. "I must not stay much longer. Tellme."

"Yes, we must settle it," he rejoined, in a deep low voice,without a trace of hesitation. "Beryl, I'm leaving this trek atthe forks of this river, not many days from here."

"Ashley! Not going?--Oh!"

"No. We can't get along. Your father will never cross theNever-never! He will be lost."

"We dared that risk," replied the girl. "Somehow Father hasimbued me with his wonderful faith. We'll win through."

"I doubt it. I almost know it. This interior outback growsimpossible west of the Warburton. I'm no pioneer--no empirebuilder."

"Ash, I promised to marry you. I will. But come with us to theKimberleys. Make a home there."

"No. You come with me. Stanley Dann will go on that interiortrek without his brother and Hathaway and me. Beryl, come!"

"Oh-h Ash! How I would love to! But I will not betray myfather. I will go on, even if they all desert him."

"They will, sooner or later."

"Never! Not Hazelton! Not that droll Red Krehl! Not Leslie, orher family. They will go. And I will go, Ash!"

Her voice had begun low and rich with emotion, then gatheringpower and passion, ended with the ring of a bell.

"But Beryl--you love me!" he cried huskily.

"Yes, I do. I do! But Ash, I beseech you--give up this selfishblind purpose of yours. For my sake, Ash, reconsider!"

"Darling, I will, despite my better judgment," Ormiston madehaste to reply. Presently she was whispering brokenly, won overanew, if not to complaisance then surely to belief. They movedaway from the log.

Red sat with drooping head. He heaved a long sigh.

"Pard, in the pinch heah she saved me my belief in her honor,"he said, his voice trembling.

"She did, Red, she did, and I feel like a coyote--like alow-down greaser, spying on her."

"Me, too. But my hunch was true. Sterl, Leslie, if it wasn'tfor you both, an' a hellbent somethin', I'd walk right in thisheah river!"

But Leslie was in no condition to answer. She clung to Sterl,weeping convulsively.

CHAPTER 15

On the morning of December twenty-fourth, the day beforeChristmas, Stanley Dann's trek toiled and limped into camp at theforks of the Daimantina, there to be stranded until after therainy season.

Owing to waterholes lying in deep cuts almost inaccessible tothe cattle, dragging sand and terrific heat, the last fifty milesof that trek turned out to be all but insurmountable. Smokesignals still preceded the drovers and aborigines still followedthem.

Dann selected his permanent camp site on the west side of themain river, above the junction of the several branches, whichwere steep-banked, deep, dry beds of rock and sand, withwaterholes dispersed at widely separated points. The heat wasfast absorbing the water. Animals and birds ringed the pools inincredible numbers. They would be dry in a few weeks. But belowthis junction the main waterhole was a mile-long, narrow, partlyshaded pool that would last until the next rainy season. Exceptin sandy patches, grass grew abundantly. Dann was assured of thecardinal necessities for man and beast for as long a spell asthey were compelled to wait there.

Dann picked a camp site on the left bank, in a eucalyptusgrove, standing far apart in stately aloofness. The pitching ofthis camp registered for the trekkers an immense relief and joy.Ormiston, however, refused to camp on that side of the river. Hedrove his cattle and Hathaway's which together constituted a mobof about three thousand head, across the dry stream beds. As abird flew, the distance between the two camps was scarcely aquarter of a mile.

Sterl and Red pitched their tent in a circle of pandanus treeswhose tops commingled, forming a dense canopy. The great seeds,somewhat resembling small pineapples, clustered aloft amid thefoliage. Leaves covered with a ground canvas, furnished a thickand soft carpet for the tent. Their nets promised protection frommosquitoes and flies. But nothing could save them from the heat.They worked naked to the waist. Friday built himself a bark shackback of the tent. Slyter's wagon, some fifty rods or moredistant, was sheltered by the largest gum. Near at hand Billestablished a comfortable cooking unit. The camps of the Dannswere lower down, nearer the river-bank, and most picturesquelylocated among the gums.

Not until late in the afternoon did Sterl feel free to wash upand change his wet and dirty garments. Then he turned to thenever failing black, who was always there when wanted. "Come,Friday. Let's go look-see."

They crossed the grassy flat back of camp, and climbed a lowridge. From this point Sterl expected to get in his mind's eyethe lay of this upper Diamantina land. But the blazing sunset andthe appalling grandeur of that country drove from his mind atfirst any thought of topography.

"Good camp place, Friday?" he asked.

"Plenty wood, plenty water, plenty meat. All same bad,"replied the black.

"Why all same bad?"

"Plenty black fella, plenty lubra, plenty fly. Eatum up alive.No rain long time. Big water bimeby."

"One thing at a time, Friday. Why plenty black fella bad?"

"Some black fella good. No good alonga here. Eat--steal. Morecome all time. Eat--steal. White fella like lubra. That bad."

"What black fella do about lubra?"

"Mebbe stickum white fella spear."

"Not so good. But I hope our friend Ormiston runs true totype, and gets speared," muttered Sterl, half to himself.

"Friday spearum imm bimeby."

The black had said that once before, months back. Gazing up athim, Sterl thought his native ally was not one to forget.

"Friday, what you mean, no rain long time?"

"Black fella tell all about," replied Friday, making one ofhis eloquent gestures. It seemed to include the sun, the land,the growths, the living things within its compass. "Why bad whenrain comes bimeby? Big water. All alonga. Cattle stuck."

Sterl shaded his eyes and feasted them. A sheen of goldilluminated the sky and enveloped the land. The three forks ofthe Diamantina, dry watercourses, white and glaring by day, nowwound away like rivers of golden fire. That afterglow of sunsetleft the league-wide areas of green grass faintly suffused withits hue, but the river beds of rocks and sand took on aphenomenal and supernatural intensity of color. There was adeeper tinge of gold on the canvas wagon tops, the tents; and aflock of white cockatoos, covering the branches of a dead gumtree, appeared transformed birds of paradise. Below camp to theright, where the water of the river gleamed through the trees,there was a flickering, twinkling myriad of golden facets.

"Never-never Land!" said Friday.

Red sat with his back against a tree, his hands spreadlistlessly. The cowboy was too tired to care about anything.

"Pard, I seen you up there, like an Apache scout. Prettynifty, huh?" he drawled, lazily.

"Red, I've no regrets, any more."

"Wal! Not atall?"

"Not atall, old friend."

"Thet's dog-gone good! Neither have I, Sterl. Couldn't we jestbe happy but for thet bastard?"

Leslie approached, for once not running nor even showing anyof her usual energy. She had changed her rider's ragged garb fora light cotton dress. "Do you boys know what day tomorrow is?"she asked wistfully.

Sterl knew, but he remained thoughtfully silent.

"It's Christmas. I'm going over to see the Danns. Mum isthere. Won't you come?"

"Les, I'm too dog-gone daid tired even to see Beryl, or tocare whether it's Christmas or the Fourth, days thet used to bered letters in my life."

"Me, too, Leslie. You see, we've let down. I did have thestrength to climb the hill back here. And that was all!"

When Leslie left, Sterl sat down heavily beside hiscomrade.

"Red, you remember that day in Brisbane when we spent so muchmoney?"

"Hell, yes. But it seems years ago."

"Well, I flatter myself I'm a pretty wise hombre, if I do sayit myself. I bought Christmas presents for you and myself. And aswe heard there were to be ladies with us, I took a chance andbought some for them."

"Aw, pard!" wailed Red. "I never thought of thet. What a poremuddle-haided cowboy I am!"

"Umpumm, Red, you haven't missed it. I bought enough for youto give too."

"What kind of presents?" ejaculated Red, elated.

"Candy, for one thing."

"Naw, not candy! Why, pard, you're loco. Heah we been trekkin'a thousand miles under this hot sun! Candy would melt."

"No, it's hard candy packed in tin boxes. Then I bought somepretty handkerchiefs and sewing kits. Lastly, two leather casesfull of toilet articles--you know the kind of things girls like.Imported from England, mind you! Tomorrow morning we'll unpackthe stuff and plan our surprise."

Breakfast was called at sunrise. "Dann wants us all presentafter breakfast," announced Slyter. Sterl and Red went to theirtent and reappeared, mysteriously, each carrying a canvasknapsack on his shoulder. They were the last to arrive at theDann encampment. All of the trekking party were present exceptOrmiston's drovers and several of Dann's. Stanley Dann stood up,bareheaded, to read a passage from the Bible. After that heoffered up a general prayer, commemorating the meaning ofChristmas of peace on earth and good will to man, and ended witha specific thanksgiving to God for their good fortune.

Beryl, looking lovely in a blue gown that had evidently beendonned for this occasion, was holding a little court all her ownin the shade of a tree near her wagon.

"Tip off your mother an' dad to rustle over heah pronto,"whispered Red to Leslie.

They approached Beryl. Cedric, Larry and the younger droverswere offering felicitations of the day. Ormiston, shaven and inclean garb, occupied what looked like a privileged place close toBeryl.

Suddenly Beryl espied Sterl and Red. Her eyes sparkled withdelight and anticipation when the cowboys unlimbered theirknapsacks, to set them down with a flourish.

"Folks, me an' Sterl heah air playin' Santa Claus," drawledRed, with the smile that made him boyishly good to look at. "Buthe is a modest gazabo, so I have to do the honors."

Beryl let out a shriek of delight. Leslie, blind to the issueuntil that moment, flushed with amaze and rapture. The Danns andtheir company looked on, smiling.

Then Red and Sterl reached into the knapsack with the air ofmagicians, to fish out a small box of cigars for Dann and hispartner, some brightly wrapped gifts for Miss Dann and Mrs.Slyter.

"My word!" boomed Stanley Dann. "I haven't had a good smokefor months. Well, well, to think these Yankees could outdoEnglish people in memory of Christmas!"

The donors gave Beryl and Leslie handy little sewing kitswhich were received with deep appreciation. Then came the twohandsome leather cases which evoked cries of delight.

"Out here in the Never-never!" exclaimed Beryl,incredulously.

"Sterl Hazelton," cried Leslie, with glad eyes upon him, "whenall my things are gone or worn out--Aladdin!"

"Girls, thet ain't nothin' atall," beamed Red. "Come on, pard,all together."

Then in slow deliberation, purposely tantalizing to thequivering girls, each cowboy produced two boxes, one of goodlysize, the other small, both wrapped in shiny paper and tied withcolored ribbons.

"What in the world?" cried Beryl, her eyes shining in purpleeagerness.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" burst out Leslie, reaching brown hands for herboxes. "What? Oh, what?"

"Candy!" shouted Sterl, triumphantly.

"Red Krehl! You mean sweets? Not ever!" whispered Beryl.

Evidently Leslie had been rendered mute, but she bestowed uponSterl's cheek a kiss that left no doubt of her unspokendelight.

Beryl scrambled up, holding all her presents in her arms.

"Leslie, you shall not outdo me in thanks," she cried, withspirit. "Red Krehl, come here! I would knight you if I were aqueen. I am glad somebody remembered me on Christmas Day!" And asthe whiskyard cowboy, impelled beyond his will, stumbled to hisknees before the girl, she lifted a lovely rosy face and kissedhim.

Sterl, glancing at Ormiston, saw his face grow ashy and aglare of jealous hate light his prominent eves. Then Ormistonturned on his heel and strode away, an erect, violent, forbiddingfigure.

He did not return the next day or the next. Beryl palpablychafed and worried at this evidence of his resentment, but so faras Sterl could see, her pride upheld her. His conviction was nowthat Ormiston, having arrived at the scene of his intended splitwith Dann, had an arrow to his bow besides persuasion.

A different kind of fight had begun for Stanley Dann'strekkers; a fight not against distance and time, rough land,treacherous water, but against heat and flies and, what was worstof all, the peril of idleness, of waiting, and of their effect onthe mind. Each day--between the blazing sun and the thirst ofthousands of cattle--saw the water in the long waterhole recedeinches down the sand and rock. One night from Ormiston's side ofthe river gunshots and shrill yells of aborigines startled thecampers on Dann's side. There was no corroboree that night.

Next morning a drover reported to Dann that Ormiston's men hadshot five blacks. No reason was given. Stanley Dann was overheardto express the opinion that his surly partner had sought to drivethieving natives away from camp. But Sterl, after talking withFriday, came to the conclusion that Ormiston wanted to drive theaborigines across the river. At any rate that was what hadhappened. The several hundred blacks had congregated in a groveat the lower end of the long waterhole.

By way of reparation and kindness Dann ordered crippled cattleshot and dragged down to the aborigine camp. Blacks, lubras,gins, pickaninnies deserted their camp while this restitutiontook place. But later, after Friday had visited them, theygradually approached nearer and nearer to Dann's camp. Dannargued for pursuing any course that would keep the blacksfriendly and Slyter agreed with him. Friday, Sterl thought, mighthave influenced Dann toward this attitude, but their leader, inany case, could be generous and kind. When Sterl asked Fridaywhat he had told Dann and Slyter the black replied:

"Plenty black fella good. Mebbe steal bimeby. No fightum."

"Wal, I'd rather stand for thet," asserted Red, "than rilethem into slitherin' spears around."

Beryl weakened in the end, and sent a note by one of thedrovers across the way to Ormiston, who came to see her thatevening. Thereafter he appeared at Dann's camp every evening.Beryl Dann would need a terrible lesson before she began to reactfrom her infatuation and then it might come too late.

The trekkers settled down to suffer and to wait. The secondhour after sunset usually brought a night breeze that gave alittle welcome respite from the torrid heat of the day, but thehours from daylight until an hour or more after breakfast werethe most supportable. Sterl made use of this time, often withLeslie or Friday. The middle of the day was intolerable in thesun and just endurable in the shade. The cattle, needing no watchthen, sought the shade of the trees where they lay down or stoodresting. In these hours, the ever-increasing flies made existencewell-nigh unbearable and all the trekkers kept under cover oftents and mosquito nets. The constant humming and buzzingoutside, like that of a great hive of bees, made this protectionso welcome that the stifling heat was endurable.

So the days wore on endlessly, each one hotter than the last.The small waterholes dried up and living creatures were dependentupon the lone one. No cloud appeared in the sky. At midday rockswere so hot that they blistered a naked hand, the cattle ceasedto bawl, the birds to scream, the aborigines to move about. Sterlhad always thriven on hot weather; likewise Red. They couldsleep, but they would wake wringing wet and with sweat. However,when the mercury rose to a hundred and ten degrees, even thecowboys were hard put to endure it.

When Friday was asked if the rains were ever coming he couldreply:

"Might be, bimeby!"

But the bearable hours always renewed interest in things ofthe moment and hope for the future.

Sterl never tired of the aborigines nor of his efforts toobserve and understand them. These blacks seemed far below Fridayin development. Friday could not name their tribe, but heunderstood their language well enough to interpret, and it wasthrough him that the overtures of Stanley Dann and Sterlcounteracted the fright and hostility for which Ormiston and hisdrovers were responsible.

Sterl learned that when a death occurred in a camp of theirs,they moved away at once. They went stark naked except for abreechcloth of woven grass or hair. The men were tall, largeheads covered by a mop of tangled black hair. The troops ofpot-bellied youngsters, upon being approached, at first scatteredlike a flock of frightened quail. The mature women, or gins weresuch monstrosities that Sterl had to force himself to glance atthem. For the most part the lubras were not good to look at. Afew of them, however, were prepossessing and far from averse tomaking eyes at the younger drovers.

The problem of the aboriginal was to eat, and he ateeverything from dirt to grass and seeds and fruit to all livingcreatures, including ants--and his own species. He was a hunter.He made his own weapons, very few in number, and these hecarried. Friday told Sterl that these people caught live fishunder water with their hands. Sterl saw some of them, at Dann'scamp, swim under water, drag ducks down beneath the surface. Hesaw them eat every last vestige of a bullock, meat, entrails, andeven the smashed-up bones. He found lubras and children out onthe plain, digging for roots, herbs, lizards, eggs, and one oftheir reptile luxuries, the goanna.

One morning Red accompanied Sterl and Leslie, with theinseparable Friday, on a visit to the aborigines. They came upontwo blacks, both mature men, tall and lean, who fastened ghoulisheyes upon Leslie's supple and brown bare legs, and then shiftedtheir black gaze to the cowboy's red head. One of them held amost striking posture. He stood on one long leg, leaning on hisspear, while his other leg was bent at right angles, with hisfoot flat against the inside of his thigh. Yet he stood atease.

"What'n'll is the matter with this gazabo?" inquired Red.

"Nothing. He's just resting. I see a good many blacks standlike that," replied Sterl.

The abo, evidently impressed by Red, spoke to him in hisnative jargon.

"Yeah?" drawled Red, and then added sonorously: "HolyMackeli--Kalamazoo--Ras pa tas--Mugg's Landin'--You one-laigedblack giraffe!"

Whereupon the aborigine, tremendously impressed, let out aflow of speech that in volume certainly matched Red's.

"Ahuh? Thet didn't sound so good to me. Friday, what hesay?"

Friday indicated Krehl's red head and replied: "Makeum funalonga you."

"Hell he did?" roared Red. "Hey, you! I'm from Texas, an' I'mliable to shoot thet one laig out from under you."

Upon their return to the Dann encampment Slyter called Red andSterl to him, and informed them that Stanley Dann wanted to seethem promptly.

"Now, what's up?" queried Sterl, impatiently, quick to catchSlyter's sober mood.

"I'd rather Dann told you," returned the drover. "There's beena fight, and the drovers are upset."

"Yeah? Wal, if you ask me thet ain't nothin' new these days,"drawled Red, with a bite in his tone.

Slyter accompanied them the few rods under the trees to thebright campfire, where Stanley stalked to and fro. He wasbareheaded, in his shirt sleeves, a deep-eyed giant standingerect under obvious burdens. Beryl was in the background, withher aunt and Mrs. Slyter. A group of men, just visible near oneof the tents, stood conversing in low tones.

"You sent for us, sir," spoke up Sterl, quickly.

"Yes, I regret to say. Harry Spence has been shot. The droversjust fetched him in. He died without regainingconsciousness."

"Spence? That is regrettable, sir, but it can hardly haveanything to do with us," returned Sterl. He had not thought muchof Spence, and several others of the rougher element among Dann'sdrovers.

"Only indirectly," rejoined Dann, hastily.

"Boss, who shot Spence?" interposed Red, coolly.

"Ormiston's drover, Bedford. Tom Bedford. He was badly woundedin the fight, but should recover."

"Wal, beggin' yore pardon, boss, an' if you ask me, thereain't much love lost in Spence's case, an' if Bedford croakedit'd be a damn good night's job," replied Red, in colddeliberation.

"I'm not asking for your judgments, Krehl," said the leader,tersely.

"I'm sorry, boss, but you gotta take them jest the same."

Sterl put a placating and persuasive hand on Red's shoulder.But he was glad that the cowboy had spoken out. He, too, was sickof subterfuge and concealment.

"Sir, why did you send for us?" repeated Sterl, quietly.

"Boys, it is only that I preferred to tell you myself, ratherthan have you hear it from others. I want to persuade you to seeit my way. I have come to rely upon you both. I have come to havea personal regard for you. Can I exact a promise from youboth--not to shed blood, except in some drastic necessity ofself-defense?"

"Yes, sir, you can from me," declared Sterl, instantlyrallying to his sympathy for this great and trouble-besieged man."Red, you'll promise, too, won't you?"

"Boss," said Red, "you ain't goin' to ask me to make a promiselike thet, an' keep it forever?"

"Krehl, don't misunderstand me," returned Dann, in haste. "Iwould not presume to have you deny your creed, your honor. I begthis promise only for the present, because I still hope we can gothrough this trek without more bloodshed."

"Wal, boss, as I see it, you won't," flashed Red. "It wouldn'tbe natural. You've got some low-down hombres mixed up with you onthis trek. All the same, I'll give you my promise thet I won'traise a hand against Ormiston, or anyone, except inself-defense--or to save somebody's life."

"Thank you, Krehl," replied Dann. "Now, for the detail thatwill be as offensive to you as it was to me. This morning a newcontingent of blacks arrived. It seems there were some unusuallycomely lubras among them. Ormiston propitiated them withgifts--an action Slyter and I are strongly opposed to. ButOrmiston did it, and took several to work around his camp. Spenceand Bedford quarreled over one of them. It was obvious that allthe drovers had been drinking. The two men fought, with theresult I told you. Ormiston sent the report to me. And I at onceordered him here. I took him to task. We had bitter words, thatmight have led to worse but for Beryl. She came between us; andin part, when Ormiston maligned you boys, she took his side. Shebelieves him. I do not."

"Thanks, boss. But spill it. What has Ormiston said now?"retorted Sterl, harshly.

"He ridiculed my offense at the idea of his drovers making upto the lubras. And the part applicable to you is this, in his ownwords: 'Look at your Yankee cowboys--Hazelton, posing as agentleman, and Krehl as a comedian--to please the ladies! They gofrom their soft speeches to Beryl and Leslie to the embraces ofthese nigger lubras!'"

If Stanley Dann expected the cowboys to arise in rage todisclaim against their traducer, he reckoned without his host.Nothing Ormiston might do or say could surprise them anymore.

As fate would have it Leslie had followed them over, and Berylwith the two older women, evidently wishing to intercept her, hadall come within range of Dann's stern voice. Sterl threw up hishands. What was the use?

Red did not fortify himself with knowledge and bitterness, asSterl had done. But his innate chivalry permitted of nointimation that these girls could believe such vile slander.

"Beryl, you needn't look so orful bad," he said, gently."Leastways not on my account. I jest promised your Dad I wouldn'tthrow a gun on Ormiston for what he said."

"You don't deny it, Red Krehl?" cried Beryl, passionately,beside herself.

"What you mean--I don't deny?"

"Ormiston's accusation that you cowboys go from me andLeslie--to--to those nigger lubras," rang out the outraged girl.She was pale under her tan and her big eyes strained withhorror.

Red twitched as if he were about to draw a gun. His visagelost its ruddiness then. "My deny thet? Hell no! I'm a Texan,Miss Dann. You English never heahed of Texas, let alone know whata Texan stands for in regard to women. What you've got in yourmind, Beryl Dann, what you think of me, is what's true of yourrotten lover. An' by Gawd, someday you'll go on your knees to mefor thet!"

The girl recoiled. She gasped. Her eyes dilated. But she couldnot cope with passion and jealousy and hate--those primitiveemotions that this trek had increased by leaps and bounds. Shelet Red stalk away without another word.

"Sterl!--Sterl!" burst out Leslie, wildly. "Youdeny--that--that--or I'll hate you!"

"Leslie, it is a matter of supreme indifference to me what youbelieve," returned Sterl, cold and aloof. Then he addressed theparents of the girls. "Dann, Slyter, and you, Mrs. Slyter, youall can't fail to see what your wilderness outback has done, toyour precious offspring. Next, they'll condone, in Ormiston andhis bunch, the very thing they insult us with now!"

CHAPTER 16

Leslie met Sterl next morning at breakfast as if awakeningfrom a nightmare; she appeared stunned to bewilderment that hedid not notice her. Sterl felt that she, the same as Beryl, mustlearn her bitter lesson. Until that time she would not exist forhim, so far as intimacy and friendly contact were concerned. Hewas deeply hurt, but not resentful. She was only a sentimentalyoung girl, placed in a terrible situation. Sterl felt sorry forher. Little by little his love had grown until it had almost madehim forget that he was an outlaw who, if he considered marriage,must find himself in a grave plight. Sterl had been hurt beforeby love. He could not kill this new love but he put it aside.Krehl's love affair with Beryl, however, had a fair chance tosurvive, if the girl herself proved strong enough to survive.Sterl seemed to feel something deep and latent in this Dann girl.She was blindly in love with this dark-browed bushranger. Butwhen she learned the truth about Ormiston, as must inevitablyhappen, it was Sterl's opinion that the girl would hate him morethan she had loved him.

January blazed to its end, but the rains did not come. Theymight skip a year. The heat and the flies had becomeinsupportable. Yet human life lived on, though in each and everyperson there were signs, even in himself, revealing to Sterl'skeen eyes that white people could not live there for long. Thedays were terrible; the sky a vast copper dome close to theearth; the night hot even till dawn. Work and meals wereundertaken before sunrise and after sunset. The mob of cattlegrazed slowly by night and rested by day. The flies were harderon them than the sun. Hundreds of calves were born. Stanley Dannhad now more cattle than when he had left Downsville.

Bedford, being a tough and phlegmatic man, recovered from hisserious wound. Hathaway came down with some kind of a fever whichneither Ormiston nor Dann could alleviate. Stanley Dann's sisterwas a woman along in years, unused to life in the open, anddespite what had appeared at first a certain robustness she beganto fail. It was mental, Sterl thought, more than physical. Shesimply dried up into a shadow of her former self, and met deathwith a wan and pathetic gladness.

Eric Dann presented a problem to Sterl. The man had somethingon his mind, either a cowardice he could not beat, a gnawingindecision about splitting with his brother, or something secret.Sterl had seen criminals not big enough to stand up under theadversity that tried men's souls; and it seemed to him there wasa furtive similarity between their moods and Eric's. Ormiston hadturned gaunt of visage, hollow-eyed. But for that matter, all thedrovers lost flesh, hardened, tanned almost as black as Friday,and if they ever smiled, Sterl did not see it. It was inOrmiston's eyes, however, that the difference lay. He never metSterl's scornful gaze. He ceased to eat at Dann's table, but atsunset and dusk he haunted Beryl, and kept her up late. BerylDann could not lose her grace of form or beauty of profile, butshe grew thin, and her large violet eyes had a wild look.

Leslie bore up surprisingly well. She lost but little weight.The sun burned her very dark. She grew quieter, less cheerful,more considerate and helpful. She approached Sterl endlessly withsubterfuges, innocent advances, unthinking expectations whichwere never realized and which left her pondering and sad.

Stanley Dann proved to be the great physical and spiritualleader Sterl had imagined he would be. He remained imperturbable,cheerful, confident. But he seldom talked to his brother, henever voluntarily addressed Ormiston, though he often came toSlyter's camp to smoke and talk.

Always when Sterl watched these people he ended by going backto study Friday, the aborigine, who day by day loomed greater inhis sight. Here was a man. His color mattered little. He wasalways on night guard with Sterl and Red. He had made their liveshis life. He asked nothing for his allegiance. Separated fromthem by inestimable ages, by aboriginal mystery and darkness ofmind, he yet felt for them, for their trials and sorrows andterrors.

"Bimeby rain come. All good," he said, on several nights. Andonce, as if the question of rain was not altogether the trenchantthing, he wagged his black head, and gazed at Sterl, his greatblack eyes unfathomable, "Ormiston tinkit he get cattle, MissyDann, eberyting. But no, boss Hazel, nebber!"

On Friday, February thirteenth, the limit of heat wasreached--a hundred and twenty-five in the shade. In had to be thelimit because Dann's thermometer burst as if the mercury hadboiled. Red said it was a good thing. They all had been askinghow hot it was, watching the instrument, wondering how muchhotter it would get. But now there would be no way to learn. Thenoonday sun would have burned the eyeballs sightless. Sterl andRed waded into the river a dozen times without bothering toremove their garments. The birds and beasts and reptiles Sterlencountered in his early morning walk did not trouble to move outof the way. Almost he could pet the gray old kangaroos; the wildfowl pecked at him, but did not fly.

Hathaway's death, coming one night when he was unattended,shocked everyone, even the cowboys, out of their abnormalunfeeling states. For days he had been delirious and burning upwith fever. They buried him beside Emily Dann, and erectedanother cross. Stanley Dann, in his faltering prayer, committedhis soul to rest and freedom from the plague of unsatisfiedlife.

Sterl wondered if the leader was breaking. But that verynight, when Ormiston, who had not attended the funeral, presentedhimself at Dann's camp, professing grief for the loss of hisfriend, the leader delivered himself of a significant speech.

"Ormiston," he boomed in his sonorous voice, "you need notdemean yourself to tell me that you won Hathaway's cattle atcards, or that he otherwise owed you money."

That staggered the bushranger for a moment, perhaps becauseboth the cowboys and Beryl were present. His dark gaze, scarcelyveiling malignance, would have warned a man less noble thanStanley Dann. He dropped his head and went his way.

"Dad!" exclaimed Beryl, petulantly. "Anyone would think youdoubted Hathaway owed Ash money. I knew it ages ago."

"Yes, daughter, anyone who hadn't a mind would think that,"returned her father, and left her. The cowboy sat staring intothe fire, enduring its smoke to insure a relief from the pest ofmosquitoes that had been recently added to the tribulations ofthe forks.

Sterl revolved Dann's caustic speech in his mind. Their leaderwas not so guileless after all. He was merely greater than mostmen! When would this giant stamp upon the viper?

Sometime during that night Sterl opened his eyes, wide awakeinstantly. It was pitch dark, stifling hot, still as the grave,yet in a flash his consciousness told him that he had beenawakened by something unusual. Despite the heat and his ownburning sweat, a queer little chill ran over him.

Suddenly the painful silence broke in a long low rollingrumble. Thunder! Was he dreaming? It sounded again, like thedistant roar of stampeding buffalo. Yes, it was thunder!

Sterl sat up. His heart thumped audibly. He had a dry mouthand a constriction in his throat.

"Red--Red!" he panted, huskily.

"Hell, pard. I heahed it!"

There came Friday's voice.

"Boss, bimeby rain!"

They pulled on their boots, crawled from under their mosquitonets, and out of the tent. There was starlight enough to seeFriday's tall black image, the pale wagons, the spectral trees.The air was sultry, oppressive, heavy, yet strangely different.Then a flare of lightning ran along the eastern horizon. Howexceedingly beautiful, beneficent, overwhelming! With batedbreath Sterl waited for the thunder, to assure himself, to enablehim to judge how far distant. Would it never come? That storm wasfar away.

"How far--when?" Sterl asked Friday. "Rain mebbe soon--mebbeno!"

Slyter came stamping from the direction of his wagon. Leslie'srich, glad voice rang out. Stanley Dann boomed to his brother.The drovers were calling one to another. Across the river lightsflashed at Ormiston's camp. They had all heard. They were allastir.

Slyter's thought was for his horses. Dann boomed to hisdrovers that thunder and lightning, after so long a dry spell,might stampede the mob. In short order all were mounted and onguard.

But that storm passed by to the southward. Soon, however, thedisappointed trekkers thrilled to more thunder. In due coursethat storm, too, passed by the forks, but closer, heavier,longer.

But just the same the sun rose fiery red--molten steel. Thebirds and wild fowl came in to water. The slopes and flats wereblack with kangaroos and wallabies. Again the heat blazed down;again the internal horde of whirling, humming, biting,bloodsucking flies settled down around man and beast.

After breakfast Stanley Dann called all his trekkers to hiscamp.

"Friends, countrymen, my brother, my daughter," he boomed, "myprayers have been answered. The wet season is at hand. We aresaved, and we lift up our voices in thanksgiving to Him, in Whomwe have never lost faith. When the rains cease, or when it hasrained enough to fill the rivers and creeks, we shall proceed onour trek. But with this change: we will go by the Gulf route, andon to Darwin, and from there to the Kimberleys. A yearlonger--but that is better than to divide our party, our cattle,our strength, our harmony. Ormiston, you who have been even morestubborn than my brother in refusal to cross the Never-never, youcan rejoice now that I have changed my mind."

A loud hurrah from a half dozen lusty-throated drovers brokeup the silence following Dann's address. The leader waited,naturally anticipating a response from Ormiston. But none came.The drover turned away his dark face. Beryl dropped her head asif stupefied and made for her wagon. Eric Dann, however, receivedthe news with a blank visage, then a gradually breakingexpression which Sterl interposed as consternation.

Leslie, in the stress of the hour, forgot the estrangement shehad caused between herself and Sterl and met him with eyes darklyexcited, to grasp his arm with the old familiar intimacy.

"Oh, Sterl! I'm glad--glad in a way. But I did want to crossthe Never-never. Didn't you?"

The answer that sprang to Sterl's lips was both cruel andinsulting, but somehow he could not hold back the words: "Yes,"he said caustically, "I sure hate the idea of having to spend ayear longer in the society of two shallow, mindless girls likeyou and Beryl."

Her face burned red, her eyes blazed, and there was littledoubt that but for Red's intervention she would have struck him.He went on his way, deeply disturbed by the encounter. Red caughtup with him.

"Say, pard, the kid would have smacked the daylights out ofyou but for me," he said.

"That didn't escape me, Red."

"I left her cryin'. That was a mean kind of speech you gaveher, Sterl."

"Agree with you," Sterl snapped. Then after a pause, "Did youlook at Beryl?"

"Shore. Beryl was surprised. Mebbe she's not so strong forthem noble idees of bein' true to her Dad. Mebbe she's beentalked into elopin' with Ormiston."

"Ah, I had that thought, too. I hoped I was wrong. Red, EricDann was sunk at his brother's decision. Sunk!"

"He oughta be overjoyed. If he ain't--why ain't he? He alwaysstruck me as kinda phony--weak or somethin'. Gosh, ain't it hotagain? Thet false alarm last night made us expect this gosh-awfulsun wouldn't shine no more."

"But the air feels different."

There was an infinitesimal humidity in the atmosphere thatmorning. That afternoon white clouds, like ships at sea, sailedover the ranges to the northeast. They were good to see. Beforethey crossed the zenith the heat had dissipated them. The sunsetwas ruddy, dusky, smoky. The cattle lowed. There was an uneasyactivity among the birds and kangaroos. Friday talked to the oldmen among the aborigines, and returned uncommunicative.

After supper, Sterl was reading by firelight when Red nudgedhim. In the gloaming distance--Ormiston and Beryl!

"Watch awhile, pard. It won't be long now!" said Red, gettingup to glide off like an Indian.

Out of the corner of his eve Sterl watched Leslie, and knewshe would approach him. At last she did.

"Red has followed them--Ormiston and Beryl. What's he going todo? Kill that blighter?"

Sterl did not answer.

"Eric Dann has got the willies, whatever Red means by them,"went on Leslie, restlessly, edging closer. "And he was drinkingwhisky. In this heat!"

"How do you know?"

"I saw him. I smelled it. Sterl, the rains will come?"

"Friday says bimeby. Mebbe soon. Mebbe no."

"I thought I'd die last night, hoping, waiting. It'll neverrain. We'll all dry up and blow away."

Leslie came closer, and suddenly, desperate, sat down besideSterl.

"You hateful, callous, unforgiving cowboy!" she whispered,huskily.

"Leslie, how very unflattering!" he rejoined, mildly.

"I hate you!" she burst out.

"That is only natural, Leslie. Your are a headstrongchild."

"Headstrong, yes, but I'm not even a girl any more. I'm old.I'll be like these gins, presently."

"Very well, then, you're old. What of it?"

"Oh, I don't care. Nobody cares. You don't. I--I wish I'dthrown myself away on Ormiston."

"Yeah? Is it too late?"

"Don't be a damn fool," she flashed. "It's bad enough for youto be a monster of indifference. A man of rock! I'm sick. I'mwild. I'm scared. I'm full of--of--"

"You must be full of tea, darling," interposed Sterl,lightly.

"Sterl Hazelton, don't you dare call me that--that--whenyou're making fun of me. I'm so miserable. And it's not all aboutmyself."

"Who then?"

"Beryl. She's strange. She was lovely to me for awhile. Nowshe's changed. She's--numb. Sterl, you must do something, orshe'll go away with him!"

"Les, hadn't you better go to bed?" he queried, gently.

"Yes. I'm weak as a cat and wet as water. But before I go Iwant to tell you something I heard Mum say to Dad. Mum said: 'Isee Hazelton doesn't go to the lubras any more.' And Dad replied:'I hadn't noticed. But it's none of your business, woman.' ThenMum snapped: 'Bingham Slyter, I didn't hold it against Sterl. I'ddo it myself, if I were a man! In this horrible hole, where Godonly knows what keeps us from going mad!'"

"Well, well!" ejaculated Sterl, taken aback, and flustered."Then what did your dad say?"

"He swore terribly at Mum."

Sterl relaxed into the flimsy protection of silence. All thesegood people might be forgiven for anything. It was a diabolicalmaelstrom--this trek.

"That--distressed me--Sterl," went on Leslie, falteringly."I'm as crazy as Mum, or any of them. I--I lied when I said Ihated you. It hurt me that about you--and the lubras. But Iforgive you. I--I don't care. There! I've told you. Maybe now Ican sleep."

She ran off sobbing. It was well, he reflected, that she did.A kind word, a tender touch from him at that crucial moment wouldhave brought the distracted girl into his arms. There could neverbe anything between them. He could keep the secret that had madehim a man without a country.

Sterl sat there a long time. The fire died down and Fridaycrossed a couple of sticks over the ashes. Mosquitoes began tosnarl. Red returned, dragged his feet, his gait like that of awhipped cur. A furious flame of passion waved over Sterl. Thatthis cowboy, as keen as flint, a man who had laughed and drawledin the very face of death--that he should crawl back to thefirelight, ashamed and abased, crushed at the weakness or perfidyof a girl, was too revolting to withstand. Sterl leaped upmuttering, "I won't endure it!" Then a deep low roll of thunderbrought him to himself.

CHAPTER 17

Thunder! Deep, detonating, long-rolling! Krehl approached theburned-out campfire, his head lifting like that of a listeningdeer. Again the heart-shaking rumble!

"You heah, pard?" he queried.

"You bet. Deeper, heavier tonight, Red."

Friday loomed out of nowhere, soft-stepping, black as thenight. He replenished the fire with two sticks laid crosswise,squatted down, rested his weapons, and became a statue like blackmarble. Friday could sleep in any position, at any time. Sterlhad caught him asleep standing on one leg, like a sandhillcrane.

Back inside the tent, pulling off his boots, Sterl said,"What kicked you in the middle, pard?"

Red heaved a sigh. "Somethin' wuss tonight, Sterl. I had mygun out to kill Ormiston when that first clap of thunder fetchedme to my senses."

Sterl cursed his friend lustily. It silenced Red and relievedhis own overwrought feelings. Then he stretched out on the hotblankets to rest if not to sleep. As on the night before, thisthundering forerunner of the season's storms passed by the forks,booming on, rolling on to rumble and mutter and die away in thedistance. Day broke. And when the sun rose, fire again possessedthe sky and earth.

At breakfast Larry told how three thunderstorms had passed byabout midnight; the last had gone to the west of the forks.

"We'll get socked right in the eye tonight," he said,cheerfully.

"Folks, am I gettin' balmy or is it hot sooner an' wusser thanyestiddy mawnin'?" inquired Red.

Slyter interposed to inform them that the last day of a hotspell was the hottest. The temperature this day would top onehundred and thirty degrees. If the forks had been a dusty place,with hot gales blowing, life would have been impossible.

"As long as your face is wet, you're all right," he said. "Butif it gets dry and hot, look out. Keep in the shade with a pailof water and bathe your head."

When Sterl followed Red to their tent, Friday pointed to EricDann crossing the main fork of the dry river bed towardOrmiston's camp. Sterl got his field glass from under a flap ofthe tent.

"From what I heard last night," said Red. "He's carryin' amessage from the big boss. He's gonna persuade Ormiston to drivehis herd back on this side, before the river rises. Haw! Haw!Like hell--"

"Here by this log," interrupted Sterl. "Nobody can see us." Headjusted the glass. At first glance he saw that Ormiston's campwas a busy place considering the torrid heat. Drovers naked tothe waist were carrying things from one wagon to another.Ormiston paced under a shelter of palm and pandanus leaves. Hisright-hand man, Bedford, sat on the ground mending harness. Theysaw Eric Dann plodding up the sand of the river slope, and theirremarks must surely have fitted their malevolent looks. But in amoment more the drover was again the smiling Ormiston, greetinghis visitor agreeably. They talked, and Sterl did not need tohear them to know that Eric Dann ever delivered his brother'smessage.

"Lemme have a look, you hawg," spoke up Red. He glued his eyesto the glass and remained rigid for a long time.

"Wal, thet's over, whatever it was," he said, presently. "Dannis comin' back. He's carryin' the world on his shoulders, if Iknow a sucker when I see one. He doesn't know Ormiston is goin'to double-cross him, any more than does Stanley Dann. Gosh, I canhardly wait to bore thet beady-eyed bastard! There he goes, backto thet wagon they're packin'."

His ice-blue eyes glinted as he faced Sterl. "All over but therain--an' the shootin,' pard," he rang out.

"Well, dammit, suppose we go over there and do the shootingbefore it rains," snapped Sterl.

"Now! There ain't no good motive yet thet'd go farwith--Stanley Dann. We gotta have thet. What we been waitin' forall these months? Use yore haid, pard."

"Red, oughtn't we tell Stanley?"

"Hell no! Not before, an' ruin our chance to bore that hombre.Afterward we won't have to talk. Ormiston will raid the boss'smob an' remuda, shore as yore born."

"Okay then. But where does Beryl come in?"

"Pard, thet stumps me, too. Beryl thinks Ormiston will takethe Gulf road, now thet Stanley has given in. But Ormiston isn'ttakin' it, as we know. An' I'm about shore there's no hope ofOrmiston persuadin' Beryl to elope. He ain't the kind of a manwho'd risk much for a woman. Shore you've seen how Beryl hasfailed lately. She'd be a burden. What he wants air hosses an'cattle."

"Red, you're overshooting here," declared Sterl. "Beryl'sphysical condition wouldn't deter him one single whit, if hewants her. He has to travel with wagons. She can be packed like abag of flour. If she dies on the way, what the hell?"

"Wal," cut in Red, wearily, "let's wait for the show-down.It's a cinch Ormiston will try to steal some of Dann's hosses an'cattle. Mebbe some of Slyter's too. But if he's as pore abushranger as he is everythin' else, why, hell, it'll make uslaugh!"

Stanley Dann sent orders by Cedric for all to lie quiet thatday, protected from the direct rays of the sun. Before that, thecattle had strung out in the shade of the trees along theriver-banks. Kangaroos kept to the brush. The whirling hordes offlies were out early, but they soon vanished. The sun was too hotfor them. The younger blacks stayed in or by the water; the olderones did not move from their shelters.

Sterl and Red found the inside of the tent unendurable. Almostnaked they lay under their wagon on the grass. Friday lay in theshade of a big gum tree. That was the only time Sterl ever sawhim incapacitated. He, too, although as perfect an engine toresist the elements as evolution had ever turned out, had tofight for his life.

The sun set at last. That awful odor of the blast furnaceclosed. In the west colossal thunderhead clouds loomed halfway tothe zenith. Low down over the horizon their base was a duskypurple, but as they billowed and mushroomed upward, the darkerhues changed to rose and gold, and their rounded tops were pearlwhite.

Friday appeared stalking under the gum trees. He came directlyto them.

"Howdy," he said, using the cowboy greeting Sterl had taughthim. And accompanying it was a transfiguration in the blackvisage that Sterl recognized as Friday's exceedingly raresmile.

"Boss, rain come," he said, as if he were a chief addressing amultitude of aborigines.

"Bimeby?" asked Sterl, huskily.

"Alonga soon night. Rain like hell."

A call to supper disrupted this conversation. While thecowboys forced themselves to partake of the eternal damper, meatand tea, the magnificent panorama of pillared cloud pageantlifted perceptibly higher. The bases closed the gaps between andturned to inky black. The purple deepened and encroached upon thegold, blotting it out until the sculptured, scalloped crowns losttheir pearl and white. Slyter heard the good news and ran acrossthe way to tell the Danns. Red whooped and hobbled after him,evidently to inform Beryl.

"I'm going to ride herd tonight," announced Leslie, brightly,approaching Sterl.

Her face showed the havoc of these torrid weeks less than thatof anyone else, Sterl observed, but the change was enough to givehim a pang.

"Yeah? You look like it," he rejoined, dubiously.

"How do I look?" she retorted, hastily.

"Terrible."

"So do you. If I look terrible you should see Beryl! What doyou mean by terrible?"

"Eyes hollow, lines you didn't use to have."

"Oh, Sterl! Am I pretty no longer?"

"You couldn't help being pretty, Leslie!" replied Sterl,yielding as always to the appeal which destroyed hisrelentlessness.

"Then I'm not to ride herd with you tonight?"

"I didn't say so."

"But you're my boss.

"Long ago, Leslie, before this trek had made me old and you alittle savage--then I called myself your boss. But no more!"

"What if I am a little savage?" she asked, wistfully.

Red and Slyter returned from the Dann camp, and Slyter said:"Saddle up, all hands. Stanley wants the mob driven into thatbasin out there, and surrounded."

Sterl went on with Red. The afterglow of sunset shone over theland. The vast mass of merging clouds shut out the northeast. Thetwo seemed to be in conflict.

"I seen Beryl," Red was saying, his voice deep with pain. "Shelay on her bed under the wagon. When I called she didn't answer.I stepped up on the wheel, so I could look down at her. I spokean' she whispered, 'Bury me out on--the lone prairie!' You know Iused to sing thet to her--before Ormiston...Sterl, could BerylDann look at me like thet, smile like thet, say thet to me if shemeant to run off with this black-faced rustler?"

"Red, give me something easy," replied Sterl, grimly. "Backhome I'd swear to God she couldn't. But out here, after whatwe've gone through, I say hell yes, she could! Take yourpick."

"Pard, if you was me, would you watch Beryl's wagon tonight,instead of guardin' herd?"

"No!--Red, you might kill Ormiston, and kill him too soon. Letthese Danns find out what we know. Then you can break loose an'I'll be with you. Man alive, she can't get away--Ormiston can'tget away--not with her or his stolen cattle or his life. If hetook Beryl on horseback we'd run him down. Red, old man, come toyour senses!"

"Thanks, pard. Reckon I--I was kinda queer. Mebbe theheat--Heah's the hosses."

"What'll you ride?" asked Sterl, as he, looked the remudaover. King whinnied and thudded toward him.

"Leslie's Duke. He's a big water dog. An' mebbe there'll be aflood. Them clouds all same Red River color, pard."

Mounted, the cowboys headed for the grassy basin already halfcovered with cattle. Slyter, pounding along to join the cowboys,expressed anxiety for his horses. Red said he was sure that theywould stand, unless run down by a frightened mob. The peril laywith the cattle.

Stanley Dann rode around the mob, hauling up last where Sterland Red had been joined by Larry and Roland. "Station yourselvesat regular intervals. Concentrate on the river and camp sides,"said Dann. "Probably the mob won't rush. If they do, keep out oftheir way. They won't run far. From the looks of it we are in fora real storm."

"Let's stick pretty close together," suggested Sterl toRed.

"You can't lose me, pard!"

"The air's stirring. Smells dusty!"

"But it's them low clouds thet holds the storm. Gosh, butthey're black!"

Then the first deep, detonating thunder rolled toward thewaiting drovers. The tired, heat-dulled cattle gave no sign ofuneasiness.

"Bet you they won't stampede," called Red, some yards toSterl's right.

"They're English cattle. They can't be scared, maybe,"returned Sterl, jocularly.

Thunder boomed over the battlements of the ranges north andeast. Flashes of lightning flared from behind them. Puffs ofmoving air struck Sterl in the face, hot like the breath of fire.The lacy foliage of the eucalyptus trees began to toss against asky still clear. Heavy thunderclaps turned Sterl's gaze back tothe storm. The front of it had rolled over the ranges.

"Whoopee!" yelled Red. "She's acomin', an' a humdinger!"

A hot gale struck Sterl. He turned his back, and felt that hewas shriveling up like leather in a flame. The gum trees bentaway from its force; streaks of dusty light sped along theground; the afterglow faded into a gloaming that was a movingcurtain before the wind. Leaves and grass and bits of barkwhipped by, and King's mane and tail stood straight out.

All at once Sterl's senses awoke to a startling fact. The hotfurnace blast had gone on the wind! The air was cool--damp! Red'swild yell came, splitting Sterl's ear. And with it a roar,steady, gaining, tremendous--the roar of rain.

The pall bore down upon them, steel-gray in the blazes ofwhite fire, to swallow up earth and night and lightning andthunder. He could not see a hand before his face. But how hereveled in that drenching!

It swallowed up time, too, and he almost forgot the great mobof cattle. But to think of them was futile. Sterl shut his eyes,bent his head, and thanked heaven for every drop of that endlesstorrent. Stanley Dann's faith and prayers were justified; thetrek was saved! Then a rough hand on his shoulder roused him. Heopened his eyes. The lightning flashes were far to the west, andthe thunder rolled with them. The rain was pouring down, but notin a solid sheet. He could see indistinctly.

"Pard!" yelled Red, close to his ear. "Stampede! Feel theground shakin'!"

CHAPTER 18

"Let's find the break!" shouted Red. "You ride back. I'll rideahaid."

Turned away from the pelting rain, Sterl could distinguish thedarker line of cattle against the white grass. They were notmoving on this side. He rode forward and checked King to listenagain. There was a decided roar of hoofs, but it was lessening involume.

He pulled King to a walk. Perhaps a spur of cattle had brokenout of the main mob. Then, in a lull of the heavy downpour hecaught gunshots! Turning to peer back he saw dim flashes faracross the herd. Dann's drovers on that side were trying to holdthe mob.

Presently Sterl made out the dark shape of a horseman. Ridingclose he shouted and got an answer. It was Roland.

"They're quiet here," yelled the drover. "They'll hold now. Ifthey were going to rush over there, it's strange they didn't whenthe storm was worst."

"Strange at that," replied Sterl. "Where's your nextguard?"

"Not far along. Drake. He told me Slyter was fussing about hishorses."

"Small wonder. I'll ride back to Red."

The rain still poured down, with intermittent heavier bursts.He had sent Friday back to the camp before the break of thestorm, and he did not feel sure just where he and Red had parted.He halted and on the last stop found the cattle jostling andpressing one another. The roar seemed to have grown louder. Inthe gray gloom the mob moved and swayed as if from irresistiblepressure at its center.

Sterl trotted King a hundred yards farther around the herd.Two riders emerged from the impenetrable black.

"Heah you air," shouted Red, as the three met.

"All jake down the line on this side," reported Sterl.

Larry told him that Dann's drovers on that side of the herdwere all gone.

"Cattle rarin' to slope around there," interposed Red. "Itain't safe, but we might stop a stampede."

"But those guards will be back unless..."

Red interrupted: "Like hell they will! Pard, we had itfiggered. Some of them drovers, in cahoots with Ormiston, havecut out a bunch of cattle. It wasn't no stampede. But there willbe one if we don't watch out. Let's mosey."

The three riders loped their mounts through the driving rainand lashing grass.

"Ride up an' down heah," shouted Red. "Blaze away with yoreguns. If there's a break anywhere, run for yore lives."

They separated. Sterl rode back firing, along the way they hadcome. Close to the herd he felt their unrest and heard theirbawling. Along Sterl's line of progress the restive cattlefinally settled down and stood. But in the other direction Redand Larry were encountering extreme difficulty. Sterl joined themat the crucial point. For a few moments it seemed vain to attemptblocking the cattle. But the intrepid riders, at the expense ofpractically all their ammunition, finally held the animals incheck. The excited fringe of the mob quieted down.

"Jest luck!" panted Red, as the three reined to together.

"Boys," said Larry, "I'll tell the Danns who saved their mob.New work to me, and my heart was in my throat half thetime...Where are those drovers?"

"Haw! Haw! Yes, shore, where in the hell air they? Heah!Listen... What's thet roar?"

"My God, they're on the rampage again!"

"No, boys," yelled Red. "Thet's not cattle! I know thet noise!It's the river!"

Sterl marveled that he had not been as quick as Red torecognize that steady, increasing roar. All in a flash he wasback along the Cimarron, the Purgatory, the Red, the Brazos--allthose western rivers that he had known and battled in flood.

"Fellers, thet big dry wash has been raisin' all the time.This is flood!"

"Red, we'd better pull leather out of here."

"I should smile. It's good the camp is on thet highbench...Gosh, do you heah her comin'?"

A seething, crashing, bumping roar bore down from the blacknight. The riders loped their horses toward higher ground. Theyencountered a two-foot wall of water rushing in at that end.Somewhere above the basin an overflow from a tributary had metthe main flood head on. They waded their horses through to therising slope.

Gray dawn broke. The rain had ceased except for a drizzle, butthe overcast sky predicted continuous downpour. The mob of cattlestood heads down, knee-deep in the overflow. The stream that hadhalf filled the basin had dwindled to a ribbon. Across the basinand the flat beyond, the mainstream raced full from bank to bank.Green trees and logs floated swiftly by. In the middle of theriver huge waves curled up to break back upon themselves.

"Red, give us a count," said Sterl, grimly.

"Wall, I was jest about to," replied the cowboy. "About fourthousand haid there now. Ormiston an' his bushrangers have slopedwith half of our cattle!"

"Bushrangers!" yelled Larry. "Good grief!"

"Shore, bushrangers! Let's go to camp. All the rest of thedrovers have rid in for tea, or they're drowned--or gone."

Friday met them and took Sterl's horse. The aborigine's blankvisage and his silence were ominous. Bill had a fire going, withtea brewing. No womenfolk were in sight. Over at Dann's campthere was less activity, but a group of drovers stood as ifstunned.

Slyter paced to and fro like a maniac confined in a cell. Someof Leslie's race horses were gone, including Lady Jane andJester.

"What the hell you beefin' about, boss?" queried Red, curtly."Thet ain't nothin' atall. Wait till you get the load."

Sterl, still silent, hurried to change into dry clothes,refill his belt with cartridges, and get out his rifle. He madesure that the oilskin cover was tight. Red cursed Slyter throughhis teeth. "What you think, Sterl? Thet hossmad geezer doesn'teven know about the loss of the cattle. An' damn little he'd careif he did. It's a cinch Ormiston stole those race hosses."

"Rustler!" rasped Sterl. "We've got a job. And my God, am Iready for it!"

They hurried out to the fire and ate standing, eyes alert,thinking hard. Larry came running whiskyardly on his bow-legs. Hisface was gray, and his eyes popped.

"Hey, wait a minnit, you!" ordered Red, sharply. "Get yorebreath, Slyter, come heah."

The drover, gloomy-faced and disheveled, stamped to the fire,almost belligerently.

"How many hosses missin'?" asked Red. "Five! Leslie's! Wecan't track those racers, not after this deluge. And I'll losethem. It'll about kill Leslie."

"Yore hosses were stole, Slyter."

"Who--Who?" gasped Slyter, staggered. "By thet bushranger youan' Dann have been harborin'."

Sterl broke his silence. "Keep it from Leslie, boss, if youcan. Bill, rustle me some meat and bread."

"Wal, Larry, if you can talk now come out with it," saidRed.

"Two thousand head and five drovers gone! Eric Dann gone!Beryl gone!"

"Ahuh. How about Ormiston's wagons?"

"Gone too, so Drake said. Mob not in sight."

"Come, Friday," called Sterl.

They hurried toward Dann's camp, followed by the others. Theleader turned from the group of drovers.

"Bad doing, boss," said Sterl. "What's your angle?"

"There was a rush during the storm. My drovers followed, butthey are not in sight. Eric and Beryl must have crossed toOrmiston's camp last night and been stormbound."

"How do you account for five of Slyter's thoroughbreds beinggone?"

"That is more news to me. They must have run away in thestorm."

"Mr. Dann, it is our opinion that they were stolen," returnedSterl, bluntly.

Dann took that as Sterl imagined he would have taken a blow inthe face--without the bat of an eyelash. "Stolen? Preposterous!What black would steal horses when there are cattle to eat?"

Red Krehl had listened attentively to this interview, whilehis blue eyes, clear and piercing, covered the camp. They flashedback to fix upon the leader.

"Dann, I'm orful sorry I have to hurt yore feeling's," he bitout, cool and bitter. "You been too friendly with a bushrangerwho turns out to be a slicker hombre than we savvied. Name ofOrmiston, which I reckon ain't his real name by a damn sight. Hestole Slyter's racers. He corrupted yore drovers an' raided yoremob. He made a sucker out of yore weak-minded brother. He..."

"You blasphemous Yankee lout--to whom not even bloodrelationship is sacred!" boomed the leader.

"Save yore wind, boss," snapped Red. "I'm pretty ---- riledmyself! Mebbe it might help for you to see thet your brother'swagon is gone."

It was indeed. Only his dray was there, its cover drippingwith rain. But that discovery did not by any means convinceStanley Dann.

"Dann, there's a lot to tell when I got time," went on Red. "Iheahed Ormiston say he was a bushranger. An' Jack an' thet hombreBedford were his right-hand men. I knowed they all were rustlersbefore I'd been a month on this trek. Sterl, heah, knowed it,too."

"Suspicion I don't listen to," thundered Dann. "If you hadfacts why didn't you produce them?"

"Hellsfire, Dann! No man could tell you some things! But yougotta heah this. Ormiston is gone! An' yore daughter went withhim,--an' so help me Gawd I still reckon it was by force!"

"Proofs, man proofs!" raged the giant.

"Come on out along the river," retorted Krehl. He mounted inone long step. "Come, pard, fetch the black man. Drake, Slyter,all of you get in on this."

Across the river, under the trees, Sterl espied one wagon,from the blackened and dismantled top of which thin smoke rosealoft in spite of the drizzle. Pieces of canvas lapping frombranches, boxes and bales littered around attested to a hastilyabandoned camp. Sterl did not even look for cattle.

A mile up the river Red halted his horse to wait for theothers to come up. At this point there was a break in the borderof trees. Above, a constriction in the river bed marked the roughcenter of the current.

As Sterl and the others reined in to line up back of thecowboy, he swept a fierce hand at a deep, miry trough newly cutin the bank. It extended fully a hundred yards up the river. Abig herd of cattle, densely packed, had been run along thiscourse, to go over the bank. Across the flood the opposite bankwas sloping, and the center of its sandy incline showed a deep,broad trail of tracks. A novice at the cowboy game could haveread that tale. Someone had seized a timely period during thestorm to cut out a couple of thousand head, and cross them beforethe flood rose.

"Mr. Dann," spoke up Drake, hollow-voiced. "I never trustedOrmiston and his drovers. They weren't friendly with us. They hada set plan, and it must have worked out as they plotted it."

All eyes turned to Stanley Dann. "It could have been a rush,"he boomed, "a rush in the storm! My drovers are with them."

"You shore die hard," drawled Red, halfway between admirationand contempt. "I gotta hand it to you for thet! Only lookheah--down the track aways. There's a daid hoss, an' a daiddrover. I've a hunch it's Cedric."

Red dismounted beside the prone drover. He did not recognizethe horse, but he knew that wavy, tawny hair, even though it wassodden with blood and sand.

"Pard, it's Cedric, all right, pore brave devil," said Red, ashe knelt beside the prone figure. "Herd ran him down. Trampled toa pulp, all except his haid. Look aheah!--So help meGawd!--Sterl, heah's a bullet hole!"

Sterl knelt to verify Red's diagnosis. He saw plainly the holein the back of the young drover's head: His passion burned outthe nausea caused by the ghastly remains of the fine boy. Then heespied the butt of a revolver almost concealed under Cedric'sside. He pulled it out, shook off the sand, opened the chamber.Six empty cartridge shells dropped out.

At this juncture the others, surrounding Dann, arrived.

"Aye, Cedric it is, poor boy!" burst out Dann, his sonorousvoice full of grief. "The mob rushed over him. He died onguard!"

"Dann, a blind man could see thet," drawled Red, whose habitwas to grow cooler and deadlier as a hard situation tenselyworked to its close. "It's a cinch Cedric died on guard. But hewas shot in the back of his haid--murdered--before the herd runover him."

"Dann, it's true," put in Sterl, sternly. "There's the bullethole."

"Larry, you examine thet hole," suggested Red, as he arose,drew out a scarf and wiped his gory hands. "I don't want no oneheah to take my word. Nor Sterl's."

Larry, Drake and Slyter in turn minutely studied the wound inCedric's skull, and solemnly agreed. Stanley Dann, with cordedbrow and clouded eyes, listened to them; but he maintained thatit must have been an accident, that Cedric and the other drovershad been firing to hold the cattle back, that in the blackness ofthe storm anything could have happened.

Red Krehl eyed the leader with amazing tolerance and respectfor that hard cowboy to exhibit at a hard time.

"Dann, from yore side of thet fence thet is good figgerin',"he said. "But I know Ormiston either shot Cedric or put somebodyup to it. Let's don't argue any more. We're wastin' time, an'we'll know for shore pronto."

"Men, fetch shovels and a ground-cloth," ordered Dann. "We'llbury poor Cedric here on the spot of his brave stand. Keep itfrom the women!"

A shrill aboriginal yell startled the group. Friday appearedon the highest part of the bank, gesticulating violently.

"What the hell?" muttered Red. Then he mounted a fraction of asecond behind Sterl. They raced for the black man, the droverspounding behind.

With a long arm and a spear Friday pointed across the river.Sterl located an object crawling down a slight sandy slope.

"Man! White fella! Boss's brudder!" called Friday,dramatically.

Sterl wiped his eyes with steady hand.

"Look, pard. Make sure," he said, coolly. His faculties wereswiftly settling for action.

"Friday's right," declared Red. "It's Eric Dann. Bad hurt fromthe way he moves!"

The man across the river flopped down a sandy slope, crawled,got to his knees to wave weakly.

"Ormiston has done for him," said Red.

"Red, strip King's saddle," flashed Sterl, leaping down to sitflat, and tear off spurs and boots. "I can land here, somewhereif you rope me."

"I could rope yore cigarette. Rustle."

"Hazelton, what do you intend doing?" boomed Stanley Dann.

Sterl had no time for the leader then. Leaping upon King heseized the bridle and wheeled the black up the river. At a hardgallop he covered the few hundred yards of open bank and hauledup. The flood here came swirling to the edge of the bank. Themuddy torrent appeared crisscrossed with debris, logs andbrush.

King champed his bit and snorted. He knew what he was in forand wanted to go at it. The drovers, led by Red, arrived at thisjuncture.

Stanley Dann thundered, "Hazelton, don't throw your life away.This is suicide!"

"Now!" pealed out Red Krehl, who had been watching the currentfor a favorable moment.

Sterl released his strain on the bridle and thumped King hardin the flanks. The black sprang into action and took off in threejumps. As they hit the current Sterl turned King downstream,quartering for a point far down on the opposite shore. Again andagain, the backlash of the waves crashed over the heads of horseand rider. They were strangled, submerged, tossed. Logs grazedthem, a huge piece of drift rolled over them, a great gum treebore down on them, upending now its blunt trunk and now itsroots. But just as it was about to fall, the roots caughtmomentarily on the river bottom and the stouthearted King swamon. Two hundred yards of this, and King struck the bottom. With atremendous heave and snort, he waded out.

When King emerged from the river to shake himself like a hugedog, Sterl did not at once see the wounded man. Red's piercingyell and outstretched arm gave him a clue, and presently he sawDann sprawled upon the sand. Sterl dismounted and ran to him.

Eric Dann lay flat on his back, arms wide, eyes open. Thatpart of his face not covered with dirt and blood was ashen whiteand clammy. His hair, matted with blood, failed to hide awound--probably from a blow with the barrel of a gun, Sterlreflected.

"Dann, you've been beaten up," cried Sterl, anxiously. "Haveyou been shot, too?"

"Not that--I know of," replied Dann, in faint, hoarse tones."Must have--been unconscious some time."

"Ormiston's work?"

"Yes, Bedford, too--set upon me."

"When?"

"About daylight."

Lifting the drover to his feet, Sterl found that he could notwalk even when supported. So Sterl heaved him up to straddle thehorse, and holding him there urged King up the river. The bed ofthis fork of the river widened upstream, with a correspondinglyflatter bank. Sterl turned to look across. Red sat his horse inthe middle of the open space where the cattle had run. He wavedhis lasso. Surveying the scene, Sterl knew that King could crossagain, if there was no accident. He waded the black into theshallow water up to his haunches.

"Slide off, Eric. I don't want double weight on the horse.I'll drag you."

"Can you?"

"If you drown, so will I," said Sterl. "But we'll make it. Allin a day's work."

He helped Eric to slide off feet first, then took hold of hisshirt high up in front. He had to keep Dann's head out of thewater when that was possible. Even with good fortune andmanagement it would be submerged to the suffocating limit. Thenhe watched the river for a slatch, and urged King into deepwater. Resting Dann's head on his leg he floated him along on thedownstream side of the horse. King breasted the flood, held hisblack nose high, parted the mass of debris, and striking thecurrent broadside on, sheered into the crested waves,magnificently powerful. The last of the heavy driftwood, in frontof the open space, caught him and bore him on, submerged him,almost rolled him over. Then they were in the thick of thecrashing turmoil, as wave on wave curled back to bury Sterlbeneath its yellow crest. For the first time he hauled on thebridle. King responded and swam out of the rough water. Eric Dannhung limp, like a sack, in Sterl's grasp.

A ringing yell--Red was riding Duke at the water's edge,swinging a loop of the lasso round his head. They were fifty feetfrom the shore, drifting swiftly toward the lower end of a bareplace.

"He's founderin', Sterl," yelled Red, at the top of his lungs."Beat him on! Only a little farther!"

King had spent himself. Sterl knew he never needed to beatthat horse. But he bent low and screamed, "You can make it. Onlya little farther! Oh, King!"

The gallant horse responded. A last violent spurt, a lastplunge, his head rose high--then the lasso whipped out andspread, to hiss and tighten with a crack round horse and rider.Red and the drovers dragged them ashore. Strong hands pulledSterl and his burden up on the bank. Red released Sterl from thenoose.

Dann had almost drowned. But rubbing and manipulating broughthim to. Then a drover put a black bottle to his lips.

"Boss, he's been beaten on the head--with a gun," said Sterl,panting for breath. "Told me Ormiston and Bedford did it--aboutdaylight. Then they left."

"Boss, get his story," cut in Red, cool and hard. "Let himtalk before he croaks or goes out of his haid."

"But now that his life is saved--" remonstrated theleader.

"Hells fire!" flashed the cowboy. "We're goin' after Ormiston.Hurry. Let him talk. Help us thet much."

"Eric, tell me," interposed Sterl. "It may help. When did youdrive your wagon across to Ormiston's camp?"

"Last night--at dusk--before the storm broke," whisperedDann.

"What for?"

"I wanted to be--on that side--to go with Ormiston."

"Did you know he didn't want you?"

"Not till daylight. Then I realized--what he was.Bushranger!--Ash Pell! That's his real name. Notorious Queenslandbushranger! We've heard of him. I heard Jack and Bedford call himby his name. I found out they had rushed--our mob--stolen ourhorses. I confronted him--then they hit me!"

"Did you know he had Beryl there?"

"He told me. She had come willingly.--When I came to--mysenses--they were gone. I crawled down--to the bank."

Stanley Dann swayed like a great tree uprooted.

"God forgive my ignorance--my stubbornness! God forgive me forall except my faith in man! Shall that fail because some men areevil? Oh, my little Beryl!"

"Dann, we'll fetch her back," said Sterl. "Red, see if King'sall right."

"Me go along you," said Friday, simply.

"Good.--Red, we've got some meat and bread. Dried fruit, too.They'll get wet, but no matter. Dann, how many of your droverscarry rifles on their saddles?"

"Not one of those drovers who--who deserted me--turnedbushrangers--perverted by that villain's promises."

"Red, I remember Ormiston had rifles in his wagon."

"Yes. Small bore. An' he couldn't hit a barn door!"

"Sterl, let me go," entreated Larry. "They murdered myfriend--Let me go."

"You bet," retorted Sterl. Larry might never have ridden on adeadly chase, but he had a light in his hawk eyes that wassufficient for Sterl.

Drake addressed himself to their leader. "Mr. Dann, I couldn'tlet these boys go alone. What Hazelton does we can do--ortry."

"Drake, you're on," rang out Sterl. "One more man. Rollie, areyou game? There'll be some hard riding--and a littlegunplay."

"Hazelton, I was about to ask you," returned Roland, pale andresolute.

"Here, fellows!" ejaculated Sterl, as the other drovers chimedin eagerly. "Three men are plenty. Thanks though. You're realpards. Mr. Dann, I'd advise packing your brother back tocamp."

Dann gave the order to his drover. Then he addressed thecowboys, not with his usual direct assurance.

"If you come up with Ormiston and his drovers then--there willbe violence?" went on Dann, swallowing hard. He was on strangeground here.

"For cripe's sake, boss!" burst out the cowboy, "Ormiston hasdamn near croaked yore brother! He has killed one of our droversand corrupted a lot of yours an' raided yore cattle! An' as forBeryl--I swear to you it's wuss than if she did elope with him.Hell no! There won't be any violence! We'll pay our respects,drink some tea with him, an'..." Here Red lost his voice.

"What will you do?" thundered Dann, roused by the cowboy'sstinging irony.

Sterl, having got his boots and spurs on, rose to face theirleader. He was cool as Red had been hot.

"Dann, we will hang Ormiston if possible. But kill him in anyevent! And his right-hand men! Your drovers will make a run forit--which may save them. With Beryl to care for we can't chase alot of white-livered suckers all over the place. You may expectus back with Beryl by nightfall, or tomorrow at the latest."

"My God! You petrify me, Hazelton. But you have never failedme. Nor has Krehl! Go! Bring back Beryl. I leave the decision toyou!"

He stalked away, leading his horse.

CHAPTER 19

The five white avengers, picking a relatively calm stretch,swam their horses across the river. Friday crossed by holdingonto King's tail and floating behind. Ormiston, Sterl reflected,had probably assumed that the flooded river was an insurmountablebarrier to pursuit. There came a slight change in thetemperature, the cool air moderating, and the drizzle increasingto rain. The gray overcast sky darkened. The water level hadrisen another foot. Owing to the rain, Dann's wagon had notburned up completely, but the canvas cover was partly destroyed,and some of the contents. Half of the load had evidently beencarried away. There was no sign of team or harness.

"Ormiston was kinda rarin' to go, huh?" drawled Red.

They rode out of the timber. Broad wheel tracks curved away tothe east.

"Three wagons," said Red, thinking aloud. "All loaded heavy.Ten or twelve miles a day over this ground is about all theycould do. Three drivers, which I reckon will be Ormiston, Jack,an' Bedford. They'll drive ahaid of the cattle."

"Righto, Red. Say they left camp an hour or so afterdaybreak," rejoined Sterl. "Anybody got the time?"

"Half after nine," replied Drake.

Sterl and his riders set off at a lope, with the aboriginerunning along easily. He had a marvelous stride and he coveredground as smoothly as an Indian. Red followed the wheel tracksfor a mile, until they disappeared under the trampling hoofmarksof the cattle. Presently the broad, heavy track of the herd thathad been raided across the river joined the main mob.

"One of them there little ridges ahaid will...Look heah!" Redleaped out of his saddle and bent to pick up something. It wasone of the handkerchiefs Red had given Beryl for Christmas. Whenhe carefully stowed the handkerchief away inside his leather coatSterl thought he would not have been in that bushranger's bootsfor anything in the whole world.

They rode on to where the mob track curved to the left awayfrom the first ridge. Once beyond that, the country was openbushland, grassy plains, patches of scrub, scattered gum treeswith rolling country beyond.

Sterl took note of their three Australian companions. Drakewas the only one who was not overexcited. Being a mature man, hehad probably seen some hard days. But Larry and Rollie, stalwartyoung outdoor men though they were, had certainly never shot aman in their lives. Sterl knew how they felt. Red Krehl wasalways one to be cool and provocative in the face of a fight, butnow he looked fierce and relentless.

The rain had let up to a fine mist when the posse climbedanother rocky edge. Distance, heights, lowlands preserved theirgray-green monotony, but all were magnified. And in the center ofa long valley the mob of cattle stood out strikingly clear for sodark a day. The pursuers gazed in silence, each occupied with hisown thoughts, until Red spoke:

"Four or five miles, mebbe. I figger they're pushin' theherd--not grazin' atall."

"I can't see any wagons," added Larry. "Too far."

Friday touched Sterl's arm. He extended his bundle of longspears.

"Wagons. Alonga dere," he pointed.

"Ahuh! How far, pard?" And Sterl thought surely that was theonly instance in Red Krehl's life when the Texan had called ablack man his partner.

"Close up," replied the black.

"Red, the wagons are in front of the cattle," interposedSterl.

"Jest too bad. Mister Bushranger Ormiston shore figgers thingsgood for us," returned the cowboy. Then he bent a keencalculating gaze upon the herd of cattle in its relation oflandmarks on each side. "Reckon there's plenty of cover all alongheah to the left. Come on, fellers. It's gettin' kinda hot."

They descended the ridge on its steep side.

Here Red told Friday to get up behind Sterl.

The black understood, but he shook his head.

"Come, Friday," called Sterl, and extended his hand. "Lookout!--For cripe's sake don't stick me with your spears!" Hehelped the aborigine to a place astride King behind the saddle."Hang on to me," he concluded.

Red led off, heading due west from that ridge. They crossedthe flat to find a pass between two low ridges, then turned eastagain. It was thicker bushland, through which the cowboy led in azigzag course. Five miles, more or less, of this; then he haltedto the left of another ridge.

"Reckon this heah is ahaid of the herd an' drovers. You canall wait heah while I take a look-see."

He took a slanting course up the ridge. Friday had slid offKing at once, and if his dark visage could have expresseddistaste it would have done so then.

"Me tinkit hoss no good," he said.

Sterl's grimness broke at this, but the perturbed drovers didnot even crack a smile.

"What will we do next?" asked Larry, his voice not quitenatural.

"I don't know what Red will advise. Depends on the lay of theland. But if there's any chance for a fight he'll have us in itpronto."

"We--we'll attack them?" queried Rollie. "I rather thinkso!"

Red appeared, riding back. As he reined Duke in, as wascharacteristic of him, he lighted a cigarette before hespoke.

"Jest couldn't be better. Herd about a couple miles below us,close to this side of the valley. Bunch of hosses behind. All thesix drovers ridin' behind, bunched close, as if they had lots totalk about, an' they're goin' to pass less'n a hundred yards froma patch of brush right around this corner of the ridge."

He paused, puffed clouds of smoke that obscured his lean, redface and fire-blue eyes, and presently resumed, this time coolerand sharper.

"Heah's the deal. This setup will be duck soup. Sterl an' me,with Friday, will ride ahaid, hell-bent for election, an' get infront of the wagons. Drake, you take Larry an' Rollie, ridearound this corner, then lead yore horses back to the thicketyou'll see. Keep out of sight. Crawl through the brush to theedge, wait for the herd to pass by, an' the drovers to come upeven with you, I reckon thet's about all."

"All right, Krehl. We'll do it," declared Drake, firmly."Looks a good deal luckier than I hoped for."

"You'll have to give us the time it takes for the herd an'drovers to come up. We gotta rustle. Let's don't argue. Sterl,what say?"

"Made to order for us," returned Sterl, darkly.

Larry burst out: "Let's not waste time. We'll do it,Krehl!"

This young man had never shot at more than a kangaroo. Now herealized that he was going out to shoot at his fellow men, and beshot at. He was trembling but courageous.

"Wait!" ejaculated Rollie, hoarsely. "What will we do?"

Red eyed the big drover in supreme disdain. Then he spoke witha deadly softness. "Wal, Rollie, you might wave yore scarf an'call, Woo-hoo!"

"Don't cast aspersions upon me, you cowboy blighter!" retortedRollie, angrily.

"Hellsfire, then! Come out of yore trance. This is a man hunt.These drovers you've hobnobbed with, mebbe, air murderin'traitors--cattle an' hoss thieves! I've had to help hang more'none cowboy friend that I reckoned was a clean honest chap, whenhe'd come to be a low-down rustler. Same, mebbe, between you boysan' Dann's drovers. It'll be tough. But it's gotta be done."

"Krehl, I can take orders. Stop ranting in your lingo, andgive them."

"Short an' sweet. Think of yore pard Cedric. Think of BerylDann, who's in Ormiston's hands. Cut loose with yore rifles an'kill them drovers. If you cain't down 'em pronto, fork yorehosses an' ride them down."

"Thanks. I understand you a little better," returned Rollie,gray of face.

"Sterl, I had to rake them, but I reckon now they'll give agood account of themselves," said Red, as he watched the threeAustralians ride away. "Rustle now. Get Friday up an' hang ontohim."

Unwilling or not the black had to get up behind Sterl. "Holdthose spears low, like that," shouted Sterl, and he reachedaround with his right arm to clasp Friday. "Okay, pard, see ifyou can run away from King."

The cowboy led off, and Sterl knew what he had suspected wouldbe a fact--that he and Friday were in for a ride. Another harddownpour, right in their faces, made accurate vision difficult.Red Krehl ran Duke on the open stretches, loped him through thebrush, jumped him over logs. Friday had a bear clutch on Sterl,yet the black all but fell off several times. The slapping of wetbranches and the crackling of saplings added to the pain anddiscomfort, if no more. Then Red pulled Duke to a slower gait andheaded to the right. They had come into bushland again. Red didnot halt until he got to the edge of the timber. The three wagonswere in plain sight out upon the open, the first about a miledistant, and the other two farther out, but still separated.

"Haidin' almost straight for us," soliloquized Red.

Friday fell off from behind Sterl, undoubtedly pretty muchmauled. He rubbed his lean wet legs.

"Tinkit hoss bad!" he remarked.

Then, straightening up, he took a long look at the threewagons and pointed.

"Ormiston wagon dere farder. Hoses alonga 'imm," he said.

"Thet hombre last, huh? Come on, Sterl."

Red turned back into the bush, somewhat away from the coursehe decided the first wagon driver would take. The rain lessenedagain. Perhaps two miles back from the open, Red halted.

"Far enough, I reckon, pard," he said, "now...Say, where inthe hell did Friday go to?"

"I never noticed. But he won't cramp us, Red. Don'tworry."

"All I'm worryin' about is thet he'll get to Ormiston before Ido," ground out Red. "Hurry. What's your plan?"

"I'll ride back aways. Let the first wagon go by me, onless itshould happen to be Ormiston. You wait about heah someplace. An'when thet wagon comes up introduce yoreself either to Jack orBedford...Then you better rustle back after me."

"You'll time it to meet that second wagon just about when thefirst one gets up to me?"

"I reckon. But it's all over 'cept the fireworks."

Red rode off under the dripping gums, keeping to the left ofthe expected wagon line, and soon disappeared in the gray-greenbush. Sterl chose as cover some gum saplings, close together andleafy enough to make a comparatively safe hiding place. Hedismounted, and drawing his rifle from its saddle sheath removedthe oilskin cover and put it in his pocket. Then he leaned therifle against the largest sapling, and with a quieting hand onKing peered back through the drenched bushland.

With a tense wait like this, it was almost impossible not tothink. He had, he reflected, no dislike for this job and nocompunction. He would not shoot from ambush, although he hadretaliated upon redskins by that very act. But here he wanted toface Jack or Bedford.

Naturally, however, he had concern for his comrade. Sterlwould have preferred to be with Red, for more than one reason.Beryl's life might be at stake. Because of that, Red could becapable of any rash act, even to a sacrifice of himself. Thenagain, Sterl wanted powerfully to see Ormiston meet thecowboy.

King suddenly vibrated slightly and shot up his ears. He hadheard something.

"Quiet!" whispered Sterl, and patted the wet neck. "Want tospoil the party?"

More moments passed before Sterl's alert ear caught a creakingof wheels. King threw up his head. He had been well trained, butnot to stand still and keep silent. Sterl stepped to his head andheld him. A thud of hoofs sounded through the silent bush. Atlast a sight of four horses plodding along, then a canvas-toppedwagon, then a burly driver, reins and whip in hands. It was Jack.A slight cold chill quivered over Sterl. But he thought fast. Hewould wait until the team had come almost opposite him, then stepout, confront Jack and force him to draw.

A distant gunshot rang out, spiteful, ripping asunder thebushland silence. Red's .45 Colt speaking. Almost at once aduller heavier shot.

The drover Jack hauled his four horses to a dead stop, anddropped the reins. He was in the clear, with the wagon on leveland bare ground. Sterl saw the man sweep out a hand to grasp arifle, then peer all around.

At this instant King let out a loud neigh, and the otherhorses answered. Jack's gaze fixed upon King. Quick as thought heleaped out of the wagon. As Sterl plunged to get low down behinda log the drover fired from behind the left front wheel. Thebullet whistled closer to King than it did to Sterl. Fearful thatJack might kill the horse, Sterl took a snap shot at the onlypart of the wheel he could see--the under rim and a section ofspokes. His bullet struck with a thud, to spang away into thebush. It must have stung the drover's foot, or come too close,for he leaped away to the rear end of the wagon. His boots werein plain sight down between the two right wheels. And Sterl'ssecond shot hit one of them. The drover flopped down like acrippled chicken, bawling frightfully, and crawled behind theonly gum tree near. The trunk was not broad enough wholly toprotect his body. But he knelt low, risking that. He had Sterlmarked but could not see him. Sterl tried a ruse as old as wars.He stuck up his sombrero. Jack fired, once and again. His secondshot knocked Sterl's sombrero flat. Then the drover rashly stoodup and stuck his rifle, his shoulder, and half of his head outfrom behind the tree. Sterl drew a careful bead on the onebaleful eye visible, like a hole in a mask, and fired. Jackpitched to one side of the tree and his rifle flew to theother.

Sterl worked the lever of his rifle, waited a moment, thensnatched up his sombrero and leaped on King. The excited horsewas hard to hold. Sterl rode by the wagon. A glance at the droverlying on his back, one eye blank and the other set hideously, andSterl took up the wheel tracks and raced through thebushland.

It grew more open. In less than half a mile he sighted anotherwagon, standing still, the foremost team of horses plunging.Sterl drew closer and was pulling King to a slower gait whenagain he heard gunshots, and not far away. Two revolvers ofdifferent caliber! No rifle shot! Throwing caution to the windshe struck the steel into King's flanks. As the black tore on attop speed, and reached the leading wagon, Sterl saw the droverBedford hanging head first over the right wheel. His feet hadcaught somewhere. In the middle of his broad back his gray shirtshowed a huge bloody patch. Red had shot him through from frontto back.

The third and last wagon! It had been pulled half broadsideacross the line of wheel tracks. Horses tethered to the rear wereplunging. Even at that distance and through a drizzling rain,Sterl recognized Jester.

The driver's seat was vacant. No one in sight! But anothershot cracked. The cowboy was alive! Sterl drove King down uponthe wagon with tremendous speed.

Suddenly to Sterl's right and ahead, he caught the gleam ofsomething white, something red, something black. There was a bareglade close ahead--a huge gum towering over the wagon--a lowbranch sweeping down. Through the thin foliage that white thingmoved. And a woman's scream, high-pitched, piercing, rent theair.

Sterl lay back with all his might upon the bridle. Kingplunged to slide on his haunches into the glade.

Red, his temple bloody, was lying in the middle of the barespot, raised on his left elbow, his gun extended, his postureunnatural. In a flash Sterl was out of his saddle.

The white thing was Beryl Dann, half nude, in the grasp ofOrmiston. A black blanket had slipped to her knees. Ormistoncrouched behind her, left arm around her middle. In his right hehad a gun leveled at Red. As he fired, the girl threw up his arm.She shrieked in terror, in fury. And she fought the drover like apanther. The red thing near them was Leslie's horse Sorrel,saddled and bridled. Ormiston had tried to get away on thathorse.

"Kill him--Red--Don't mind me!" panted the girl, wildly.

CHAPTER 20

Sterl leveled a cocked gun, but dared not risk firing. Only aportion of Ormiston's body projected from behind the desperatelystruggling girl.

She hung onto Ormiston's rigid arm as he lifted her in hiseffort to align his gun upon Krehl. He fired. Dust and gravelflew up into the cowboy's face. Red rolled convulsively over andover, as if struck. Sterl just barely held himself back from arash onslaught at the drover. But Red came out of that roll tolie flat with his gun forward.

"Hurry, St--erl!" shrieked the girl, frantically.

Then the drover espied Sterl, and struggled to aim at him.Sterl leaped to dive behind a rock. On his knees he thrust hisgun over the top.

He had time to see Beryl's last frenzied struggle to destroythe bushranger's aim. Then she collapsed, arms, head andshoulders hanging down, supported by Ormiston's clutching clasp.Ormiston's stooping caused him to bend his left leg, and his kneebecame exposed. Red's gun cracked. Sterl heard the bullet thudinto flesh. That shot of Red's had broken his aim. Cursingsavagely the bushranger gathered his forces for anotherattempt.

Sterl's finger quivered on the trigger, in the act ofimperiling Beryl's life to save Red's. Then behind him a strange,tussling sound checking his firing. Whizz! A dark streak flashedacross his line of vision, Chuck! Sterl's taut senses registeredthe sickening thud of something rending flesh.

Ormiston uttered a strangling, inhuman yell and sprang up asif galvanized. His gun went flying to the ground. Beryl droppedfrom his hold like an empty sack. His hands went up, clutching asa drowning man might at straws. An aborigine spear stuck out twofeet beyond his throat. Its long end still quivered. Ormiston'shand tore at it, broke the shaft square off.

"Friday!" yelled Sterl, as he leaped from behind the rock."Look, Red, look! Friday has done for him!"

Red got up, bloody-faced and grim as death. Blood flowed froma shot in his head and his left shoulder. But he showed noweakness. As he strode toward the whirling Ormiston, swiftfootfalls thudded behind Sterl, and Friday came leaping into theopen. He held a long spear low down.

"Hold on, Friday!" yelled Red, blocking the aborigine. "No gowith thet. You're gonna help me with a little necktie party!"

Sterl could not turn his sight from the spectacle of thedoomed Ormiston. He reeled and swayed like a drunken man, hishands still tearing at the spearhead. A red-tinged froth issuedfrom his mouth. He fell, to bound up again with marvelousvitality. Sterl ran over and kicked Ormiston's gun into thegrass. And again his trigger finger pressed quiveringly as thebushranger made ghastly inarticulate sounds and plunged like awounded bull.

Red's jangling footfalls sounded behind Sterl, just asOrmiston's protruding eyes fell upon Beryl. She was on her kneestrying to pluck up the blanket over her bare shoulders. He madeat her, insane to drag even her to perdition. But before Sterlcould shoot, a hissing lasso shot out. The noose fell overOrmiston's head. Red gave the rope a tremendous pull. Ormistonlunged backward, to fall face upward, his arms upflung, and thatqueer vociferation ended abruptly.

"Lend a hand, Friday," shouted the cowboy. "Don't forget howthis white trash treated you!"

The black leaped to Red's assistance. They dragged thebushranger under the spreading arm of the huge gum tree. Thecowboy paused there to gaze down at his victim.

"Rustler, you swing! Jest the same as any cattle thief in mycountry! But bad as they came, I never seen one as low down asyou!"

Red threw the free end of his lasso up over a low branch andcaught it as it fell.

"Git in an' help me, Friday! Pull, you black man who's shoreno nigger! All my life I'll love you for this day's work. Ha!There you air, Ormiston! Swing an' kick!"

Sterl wrenched his gaze from the gruesome spectacle andwheeled to Beryl. She was on her knees, the blanket slack in hernerveless hands, her big blue eyes fixed in horror.

"Beryl! Don't look!" cried Sterl, sheathing his gun andrushing to her. "Shut your eyes, Beryl. It's--all over. You'resaved. And he...It's justice, no matter..."

But he realized that she had fainted. He carried her to thewagon, laid her in the seat out of the rain and tucked theblanket around her bare feet. Her eyes fluttered open. "Okaynow?" inquired Sterl. She nodded, "Then lie here awhile until youget yourself together. No more danger." And he drew away.

A jingling step, and he turned to see Red approaching. Beyond,Friday appeared, gazing fixedly up at the limp figure in darkrelief against the gray sky.

"Close shave, pard," said Red, just a little huskily, as hewiped his bloody hands with his scarf, and glanced up to seeBeryl's pale, quiet face. Sterl indicated by a gesture that thecowboy should leave her alone.

"Gosh! I don't recall a closer shave!" ejaculated Red. "Butwasn't Beryl the game kid? She kept him from borin' me a secondtime. She fainted! I'm glad she didn't see the end of it."

"But she did, Red. She did! She saw it all, believe me!"

"Aw, thet's too bad. But, pard, did you get it? Beryl had ononly her nightgown. Thet hombre stole her from her bed. Shedidn't run off with him!"

"Yes, I savvied that, Red, and I never was any gladder in mylife... But you're all shot up. Let me see!"

"They'd have to be a hell of a lot wuss than they air to croakme now. Let me tell you. When I ran down on Bedford he saw mecomin', an' he was ready for me. I bored him, but damn if hedidn't hit me heah in this shoulder. Ormiston was trying to getaway with Beryl on the sorrel there when I run in on him. Berylwas fightin' him. But for her I'd shore have bored him before hegot in thet first shot. It knocked me flat. Better look thesebullet holes over an' tie them up. This one on my haid hurts likehell."

Examination disclosed in Red's head a groove that cut throughthe scalp, but had not touched the skull, and another in his leftshoulder, high up. The bullet had lodged just under the skin onthe far side. It would have to be cut out, but Sterl left thatoperation for camp, and bound his scarf tightly around thewound.

"We'd better leave the other one open," he said. "Hello,what's that?"

Red rose up to listen. "Fag end of a stampede, I'd say. Lookout for Beryl. I'll wrangle the horses. Come, Friday."

The black ran off under the gums to get Duke, while Sterl drewKing and the sorrel back away from the open. A bobbing line ofcattle hove in sight down through the brush, loping alongwearily.

"Wal, they might have started wild, but they're bein' chasednow," said Red. "Get the rifles heah, pard, an' if it happens tobe any of Ormiston's outfit, they'll never get nowhere."

On a front so wide that Sterl could just make out the far end,a herd of cattle came loping past, scattered and bawling, almostready to drop.

"Coupla thousand haid, shore as you're born," said Red whenthey had passed. "Thet's sort of queer. I recognized that bull.Pard, thet was the bunch raided out of Dann's last night!"

"Might be."

"Heah comes some riders. Two! Thet's Larry's hoss. An' Rollietoo. But Drake ain't with them."

From some hundred paces away the riders espied the bushrangerswinging with horrible significance, and this brought them to aquick halt. Then they rode slowly up, their eyes gleaming, theirlips tight.

"Beryl?" queried Larry, hopefully.

"She's up theah, on the seat, comin' out of a daid faint."

Larry slumped out of his saddle to sit down like a man whoselegs were wobbly. Sterl did not like the look of either of thedrovers.

"Where's Drake?"

"He wouldn't shoot barefaced from ambush," replied Larry,tragically. "Rol and I didn't know it though, till right at thelast, he ran out, yelled at Anderson and Henley. They drew theirrevolvers and he shot them both off their horses. I--I killedBuckley. Herdman and Smith had begun to shoot. It was Herdman, Ithink, who hit Drake and did for him. Rol's horse was shot fromunder him. The mob rushed, ran us back into the brush. Herdmanand Smith had to ride hard. But they got around them and headedoff to the east. We couldn't chase them until the cattle had runby. Then it was too late."

"Ahuh. Too bad about Drake. Air you shore he was daid?"

"There was no doubt of that."

"It's orful tough, Larry. I reckon Sterl an' me feel for you.But the fact is, we got off lucky."

"Jack and--Bedford?"

"They beat Ormiston to hell pretty considerable."

"There's only one thing to do now," said Sterl. "Take Berylback to camp pronto. You're all shot up, too. We've got to crossthat infernal river before dark."

Stanley Dann, the Slyters, with Heald and Monkton, and one ofDann's drovers stood on the east bank, awaited their landing,visibly laboring under extreme excitement and fear.

"My--daughter?" asked Dann, almost voiceless.

"Safe," replied Sterl, not looking at him, and leaped to theground. He waved his sombrero to Red and Larry. Then as theywaded in, Sterl untied his lasso.

"Get your rope ready," he said to Rollie.

Sterl had been aware of Leslie's presence close beside him anda little behind. One she touched him with a timid hand, as thoughto see if he were really back in the flesh. They were all talkingexcept Leslie. Finally she spoke in her deep contralto:"Sterl!...Sterl!"

Then he looked around and down upon her, meaning to be kind,trying to smile as he said: "Hello, kid!" but sheinstinctively recoiled from his face. Sterl did not marvel atthat. It had happened before to girls who, approached him after ahard job. But however could he help it? Men had to kill other men!The wonder in him was that it made any difference in his face andlook.

Sterl turned to watch the swimming horses as they entered thecurrent. Sorrel, and Leslie's other horses, hesitated but finallyfollowed. "Rollie, go below me...Everybody get back so I canswing this rope."

Red and Larry were ten feet apart, heading evenly into thecurrent. The lean noses came on abreast, and the shoulders of theriders rose into plain sight. The onlookers watched, tense andbreathless, while the horses swept down with the current, at lastto forge out of it, and come straight for the bank. A cheer ofreleased emotions rent the air. Duke, as powerful as if he hadnot already performed miracles that day, waded out in King'stracks. To make sure, Sterl roped him and hauled lustily to helphim pound up the bank. Rollie helped Larry. No one thought ofLeslie's four horses, now making for shore.

Stanley Dann crowded close, his bearded jaw wobbling, hisgreat arms outstretched. With one shaking hand, Red unfolded thedripping slicker over Beryl and let it fall away from her whiteface. If her eyes had not been wide open, she would have lookedlike a drowned girl.

Red lifted her and bent down to yield her to her father'seager arms.

"Dann, heah's yore girl--safe--an' sound," said Red, in aqueer voice Sterl had never heard before. "An' thet lets meout!"

What did the fool cowboy mean by that speech, wondered Sterl?Red had settled some debt to himself, not to anyone else.

"Ormiston?" boomed the drover.

"Wal, the last we seen of thet bushranger, he was dancin'.Yep, dancin' on thin air!" And with that, passion appeared tohave spent its forces as well as Red's strength. "Where the hellair--you--pard?" he went on, in a strangely altered tone."I--cain't--see you...Aw, I--get it...Heah's where--I cash!"

His staring blue eyes, as blank as dead furnaces, told theirown story. He swayed and fell into Sterl's arms.

CHAPTER 21

Larry helped Sterl carry Red across to Slyter's camp, and intotheir tent. For Sterl all this slow walk was fraught with icypanic. It might well be that Red had been more severely woundedthan a superficial examination had shown. How like Red Krehl tohave such a finish! The fool cowboy would have died at Beryl'sfeet, to give the vain beauty everlasting remorse and grief.

"Get hot water--Larry," he ordered. They undressed Red, rubbedhim dry, forced whisky between his teeth. Then Sterl unbound thewounds, washed them thoroughly, ruthlessly cut open the one onhis back, and extracted the heavy bullet. It had gone under hiscollarbone, to stop just beneath the surface. Sterl dressed theshoulder injury, bandaged it, and went on with steadying hands tothat bullet groove in Red's scalp. Sterl could not be fearfulover either wound. He had seen the cowboy laugh at scratches likethis. But Sterl found evidence that Red had bled freely allduring the ride back to the river. The water had washed himclean, but one of his boots was half full of diluted blood. Therelay the danger!

Sterl took a long pull at the flask Larry offered. It burnedthe coldness out of his vitals. Then he rubbed himself thoroughlyand got into dry clothes.

"I'd feel all right, if only Red..." he choked over the hope.He went on. It was almost dark and the rain still fell steadily.Under Bill's shelter, a bright blaze gleamed with shining raysthrough the rain. Bill had steaming vessels upon thegridiron.

"Eat and drink, lad," said Slyter. "We have to go on, youknow...How is Red?"

"Bad. Bled almost to death...But I hope--I--I believe he'llrecover...How did the kid take the return of her horses?"

"Sterl, you wouldn't believe it--the way that girl cried overthem...But it was a breakdown, after all this day's strain, andthe tremendous relief of your return."

"Of course! Leslie is not one to crack easily."

"My son, I very much fear Leslie is in love with you."

"Slyter, I fear that, too," replied Sterl, ponderingly, alittle bitterly. "I hope, though, that it isn't quite so bad aswhat happened to Beryl."

"My wife says it's good. We have trusted you, Hazelton."

"Thanks, my friend. That'll help some."

The return of Slyter's womenfolk put an end to that intimatetalk. Much to Sterl's relief. They threw off wet coats and stoodbefore the fire, Leslie with her back turned and her headdown.

"Leslie, how is Beryl?" asked Sterl.

"I don't know. She--she frightened me," replied the girl,strangely.

"How is your friend Red? He looked terribly the worse for thisday's work," interrupted Mrs. Slyter.

Sterl briefly told them his hopes for Red, omitting his fears.But that sharp-eyed psychic, Leslie, did not believe him. WhenSterl looked at her she averted her piercing gaze.

"Who shot him?" rang out Leslie, suddenly.

"Yes, you'll have to be told about it all, I suppose,"returned Sterl, in sober thoughtfulness. "Bedford shot Red firstin the shoulder--and then Ormiston nicked his head. Not seriouswounds for a cowboy. But Red lost so much blood!"

"I heard Red say to Mr. Dann--that about Ormiston dancing onthin air. I know...But Bedford?"

Slyter interposed: "Leslie, wait until tomorrow. Sterl is wornto a frazzle."

Sterl wanted to get part of it over with and he bluntly toldLeslie that Red had killed Bedford.

"What did you do?" queried this incorrigible young woman,unflinchingly.

"Well, I was there when it happened." That seemed to be allthe satisfaction Sterl could accord the girl at the time.

"Thanks, Sterl. Please forgive my curiosity. But I must tellyou that I asked Friday."

"Oh, no...Leslie!" exclaimed Sterl, taken aback.

"Yes. I asked him what happened to Ormiston. He said: 'Fridayspearum. Red shootum. Me alonga Red hangum neck...Ormiston kicklike hellum...Then imm die!'"

It was not so much Friday's graphic and raw words that shockedSterl as the girl's betrayal of the element.

"Retribution!" added Mrs. Slyter, in a moment. "He stole Berylfrom her bed. I'll never forgive myself for believing she ran offwith him!"

"Neither will I, Mrs. Slyter," said Sterl, in poignantregret.

"I was afraid of it," put in the girl, frankly.

"Sterl, Dann will want to see you. Let us go now, before Lesand Mum loosen up," suggested Slyter.

Glad to escape, though with a feeling for Leslie that he didnot wish to analyze, Sterl accompanied the drover through thedark and rain. They found Dann at his table under a lightedshelter. Before him lay papers, watches, guns, money and moneybelts.

"Hazelton, do I need to thank you?" asked Dann, his rich voicethick.

"No, boss. All I pray for is Red's recovery."

"Please God, that wonderful cowboy lives! Slyter, ourerstwhile partner had thousands of pounds, some of which Irecognize as belonging to Woolcott and Hathaway and put aside fortheir heirs. I appropriated from Ormiston's money what I considerfair for my loss. Do you agree that the rest should go to thecowboys, and Larry, and Roland?"

"I do, most heartily," rang out Slyter.

"Not any for me, friends," interposed Sterl. "But I'll take itfor Red. He deserves it. He uncovered this bushranger. He madeour plan today, saved Beryl--and hanged Ormiston."

"Terrible, yet--yet...I'll want your story presently. I'veheard that of Larry and Roland. Poor Drake! Too brave, too rash!You may not know that Drake was friendly with both Anderson andHenley. That may account--what a pity he had to find themunworthy--to see them seduced by a notorious bushranger--and killthem! Yet how magnificent!"

"Boss, if you don't mind, I'd like to have Ormiston's gun,"said Sterl, restrainedly.

"You're welcome to it. Now for your story, Sterl."

Sterl told it as briefly as possible. Dann took the narrativeas one who at last understood the villainy of evil men and therighteous and terrible wrath of hard avengers.

"I'm not one to rail at the dispensation of Providence," saidthe leader, at length. "How singularly fortunate we have been!I've a mind to let well enough alone, except to try to save themob that rushed to its old grazing ground across the river."

"That can be done, Dann, as soon as the river drops. But Ithink you're wise not to attempt mustering the cattle thatstampeded by us up there. Those two drovers will escape with onewagon and some of Ormiston's horses. Let them go, Dann. We havemore cattle now than we can handle. And fewer drovers!"

"Righto, Hazelton. But I'll send Larry and four men up theretomorrow, to fetch back the other two wagons. Later, we'll gatherin that mob which obligingly rushed back to us. They won't leavethat fine grazing over there."

Sterl and Slyter left the chief, to return to their camp. "Hewas hit below the belt, Hazelton," said Slyter, "but never aword! I wonder what will happen next?"

"All our troubles are not over, boss. Red would say, 'Wal, thewurst is yet to come!' By the way, how is Eric Dann?"

"He'll be around in a few days. Good night. It has been a day.Never mind guard duty while Krehl needs attention."

Friday loomed up in the dark.

"Has he been quiet, Friday?"

"All same imm like dead. But imm strong, like black fella. Nodie."

Sterl struck a match in the darkness of his tent, and lightedhis candle. Indeed Red looked like a corpse, but he was breathingand his heart beat steadily. "If he only hangs on till tomorrow!"whispered Sterl, fervently, and that was indeed a prayer. Sterlundressed, which was a luxury that had been difficult of late;and when he was stretched out he felt as if he would never moveagain. His last act was to reach for the candle and blow itout.

Stress of emotion, no doubt, had more to do with hisprostration than the sleepless night and strenuous day. He caughthimself listening for Red's breathing. But sleepy as he was, hecould not arrive at the point of oblivion. That speech of thecowboy's, when he delivered Beryl into her father's arms, hauntedSterl. It meant, he deduced, that Red had withstood love andshame and insult and humiliation and torture for willful and vainBeryl Dann; in the face of opposition and antagonism he hadkilled Ormiston to save the girl. And that had let Red out! YetRed was tenderhearted to a fault, and never had Sterl, in theirtwelve years of trail driving, seen him so terribly in lovebefore...Outworn nature conquered at last.

When Sterl awakened day had broken and the rain had ceasedtemporarily. In the gloom he saw Red lying exactly as he had seenhim hours ago. He crawled out of bed to bend over his friend, andhis acute sensibilities registered a stronger heartbeat. But nowpneumonia must be reckoned with--a disease likely to fasten upona man so wounded and exposed.

Sterl got out in time to see five horsemen across the riverriding at a brisk trot to the east--the drovers Dann had sentafter the wagons and horses, of course.

While he ate breakfast with Slyter, Mrs. Slyter approachedfrom Beryl's wagon. Her usual brightness was lacking.

"Mum, you don't look reassuring," said Slyter, anxiously. "Atmidnight, Leslie said Beryl was sleeping."

"Beryl has been shocked beyond her strength--any sensitivewoman's strength," returned Mrs. Slyter, gravely. "She'sviolently delirious. I fear she'll go insane or die."

Leslie, pale but composed, arrived in time to hear this.

"What do you think, Sterl?" she asked.

"Well, it's a cold gray dawn after two terrible nights with anawful day between. We can at least think clearly. Of course Idon't know what Beryl had to endure before we appeared on thescene, but what happened afterward was enough to tax any girl'sstrength." Here Sterl described, sparing no detail, Beryl's fightwith the bushranger, to keep him from killing Red, and thegruesome aftermath.

"Beryl was game and she went the limit," he added. "If she hadfainted when Friday speared Ormiston, it would not have been sobad for her. But she saw Ormiston plunge around, like a crazybull...She saw--all the rest. I ran to shut out that sight. Andit was only then that she fainted."

"Mercy!" gasped Mrs. Slyter.

"I'd like to have been there," declared Leslie Slyter, with anunnatural calm that was belied by the piercing glint in her hazeleyes.

"Talk sense, you wild creature!" returned her mother.

Sterl had not at all intended such a disclosure, and felt at aloss to understand why he had yielded to the impulse. If it wasto see Leslie's reaction, however, he had been strangelyjustified.

Toward what would have been sunset if there had been any sun,Sterl admitted Dann to the tent. The leader bent over the cowboy,listened to his breathing and--heart, studied his stone-coldface. Then he said: "I've played many parts in my time, includingboth Wesleyan clergyman and amateur physician. Be at peace,Sterl. He will live."

They went out, to be followed by Friday. Rain had set inagain, and the air was muggy. Sterl sighted a large wagon, whichhe recognized as Ormiston's, rolling into the timber toward theold camp across the river. Four riders were driving a bunch ofhorses down to the shore. Larry led off into the river, with thefour drovers behind urging and whipping the loose horses ahead ofthem. The flood had dropped, and neither riders nor unsaddledhorses required any help at the landing.

"Well done, Larry," said Dann, as the young drover rode up tomake his report.

"We got them all, I think," was the reply. "The--the two whogot away--took four teams, but only one wagon. They either buriedJack and Bedford or took them away. Ormiston's wagon had beenfired, but its load was so wet that it wouldn't burn...We erecteda cross over Drake's grave."

"That was well," replied Dann, as Larry hesitated. "But whatabout Ormiston?"

"They left him hanging. So did we."

There was flint in Larry's eyes and words. Stanley Dann,seldom at a loss for words, found none to say here.

That night at supper there was a release of tension as toRed's condition, but not as to Beryl's. She had fallen into alethargy that preceded the sinking spell Mrs. Slyter feared. EricDann, too, according to Slyter, was either a very sick man orpretended to be.

At daybreak, Red came out of his stupor and whispered almostinaudibly for whisky.

"You son-of-a-gun!" cried Sterl in delight, as he dove for aflask. "Easy, now, old-timer!"

Red did not heed Sterl's advice. A tinge of color showed inhis gray cheeks.

"How--long?" he asked, in a husky whisper.

"This is the third day."

"Get anythin'--back from?..."

"One wagon, Ormiston's, twenty odd horses--and this." HereSterl picked up Ormiston's bulky belt to shove it in front ofRed. "He sure was heeled, pard. Dann took out what was due him,with Woolcott's and Hathaway's money and shares for the boys. Therest is yours. Wages justly earned, the boss said."

"Hell--he did...How much?"

"I only took a peep. But plenty mazuma, pard."

"I'm gonna--get drunk. Never be sober--again."

"Is that so?"

"Gimme a cigarette."

"No. But I'll see what Mrs. Slyter advises in the way ofgrub."

Still the sky stayed drab and gloomy, shedding copious rainsat slowly widening intervals. On the fifth day there came a breakin Red's fever and a lessening of his pain. The river had fallenlow enough for the drover to pack Ormiston's supplies and wagonacross, piece by piece. And in the next day or so the cattle onthat side were to be swum across. Eric Dann was up and about,moody and strange. That day, however, showed no improvement inBeryl's condition. Red continued to mend. He was a tough as wire,young and resilient, and as soon as his depleted blood began torenew itself, his complete recovery was only a matter of days.But not even of the persistent and sentimental Leslie did he everask about Beryl.

During the last few days of this period, it still rained, butfar less frequently. The flat, dull sky broke at intervals,showing the first rifts of blue sky for over weeks. Bird lifewith its color and melody predicted a return of good weather;kangaroos and wallabies, emus and aboriginals appeared inincreasing numbers. The last, Friday asserted, were differentblack fellas from those who had crowded at the forks before theflood. The great triangle of grassland, which had its apex at thejunction of the river forks, waved away incredibly rich with newgrass. Larry and Sterl reported that the trek could be resumed,rain or shine. But the patient Dann stroked his golden beard andsaid: "We'll wait for the sun. Eric is not sure about the road.He thinks it'd be more difficult to find in wet weather."

"Then you'll keep to this Gulf road, if we find it?" queriedSterl, quietly.

"Yes, I shall not change my mind because Ormiston isgone."

"Mr. Dann," ventured Larry, with hesitation, "the creeks,waterholes, springs will be full for months."

"I am aware of that. But Eric has importuned me and I havedecided."

Dann might have been actuated to delay because that would bebetter for Beryl. She had come to herself, and only time and carewere necessary to build up the flesh and strength she hadlost.

When one night the stars came out, Dann said, "That rainbowtoday is God's promise. The wet season is over. Tomorrow the sunwill shine. We go on and on again with our trek!"

CHAPTER 22

Sunrise next morning was a glorious burst of golden light.

The joyous welcome accorded this onetime daily event seemed inproportion to that of the Laplanders after their six months ofmidnight. Even Beryl Dann, from under the uprolled cover of herwagon, gazed out with sad eyes gladdened. Breakfast was almost afestival. The drovers whistled while they hitched up the teams tothe packed wagons; they sang as they mustered the mob for thetrek.

Sterl, mounted on King, and as eager as the horse, waited withFriday for the wagons to get under way. But Slyter was detainedby Leslie's pets. At the last moment Cocky had betrayed that hisfreedom at this long camp was too much for him. Leslie had noteven clipped his wings. And when he flew up to join flock ofscreeching white cockatoos he became one too many. Laughing Jack,the tame kookaburra, also turned traitor. He sat on the branch ofa dead gum with three of his kind, bobbed up and down, ruffledhis feathers, and laughed hoarsely at the mistress who had beenso kind to him. Both had tasted the sweetness of freedom.

"I--I always lose everything I love," wailed Leslie, andmounting Lady Jane she rode out under the trees and did not lookback.

Sterl was the last to leave the forks. He was glad to go,because that was imperative, yet he felt a strong regret as herode over the grazed and trampled grass to his old position atthe left of the mob. Many cattle and horses, several wagons,fourteen dead men and one dead woman had been left behind. OnlySlyter's five drovers, not including him and Red, and four ofDann's remained to get the mob, three hundred horses and sixheavily laden wagons across the endless leagues.

The sky was deep azure, floating a few silver-white clouds.The sun appeared no relation to that molten copper disk of a fewweeks past. King's mane and smooth hide were a dead black, yetsomehow they shone. Friday, stalking beside Sterl with his spearsand wommera, naked except for his loincloth, presented anotherkind of black, a glistening ebony. The mob of cattle appeared toconsist of a hundred hues, yet there were really only very few.It was the variation of them that gave the living mosaic effect.They looked as clean and bright as if they had been freshlyscrubbed.

Compared to one of the trail driver's herds in Texas, theselong-horned, moss-backed, red-eyed devils that were the bane ofcowboys' lives, this herd of five thousand bulls and steers andcows and calves were tame, lazy, fat pets. The slow trek, thefrightening situations and the kindness of the drovers accountedfor this.

Ahead of the leisurely moving mob, the grass resembled that ofthe Great Plains in thickness and height, but in its richness ofcolor and multitude of flowers it could have no comparison. Inthe distance all around loomed purple, bush-crowned hills, and tothe north, far beyond, lilac ranges hung to the fleecy cloudslike mirages right side up. If there could be enchantment onearth, here Sterl rode amidst it. That he seemed not the only oneunder its spell he proved by glancing at his companions on thetrek. Every one of them rode alone, except Friday, who stalkedlost in his own lonely, impenetrable thought. The drovers sattheir horses and gazed, no doubt, at things that were only truein dreams. Red Krehl had forgotten his cigarette. Leslie rode farbehind, lost in, her world.

At the wattle-bordered stream beside which they camped,Stanley Dann inaugurated a new arrangement whereby everything wasconsolidated into one camp. The exhilaration of the morning hadcarried through to evening.

"Pard, it's kinda good to be alive at thet," drawled Red.

"Red, you've never fooled me about your indifference tobeautiful places any more than to girls," replied Sterl,satirically.

"Yeah? Wal, mebbe Les was right when she said once thet I woremy heart on my sleeve."

"Red Krehl," spoke up Leslie, "if you have a heart it's an oldburlap bag stuffed with grass, and what not."

Leslie had come over to where Sterl sat writing in thejournal--he had long ago relieved her of that duty--and Red wassmoking. Friday, as usual, had made a little fire.

"Gosh, am I thet bad?" rejoined Red, mildly.

"Why wouldn't you come with me to see Beryl when I asked youbefore supper?"

"Wal, I reckon I didn't want to see Beryl."

"But she begged to see you. And I was embarrassed. I lied toher."

"Shore, you always was a turrible liar."

"I was not. Red, you're so queer. You never were hard before.Why, you've stood positive cruelty from that girl! Now, she needsto be cheered, fussed over--loved."

"Would you mind shettin' up, onless you want me to go out an'commune with the kangaroos?"

"You mean the abo's, Red Krehl," returned Leslie,spitefully.

"Wal, I would at thet if there was any about."

Leslie plumped down beside Sterl and pretended to peep at thejournal, which he believed was only a ruse to get near tohim.

"I'm busy, Leslie. Way behind. Will you slope off to bed, orsomewhere?"

"No, I won't slope off to bed--or to hell, as you hint socourteously," she retorted petulantly, but she left them.

"Pard, what'd she mean by that crack about abo's?" askedRed.

"I think it was a dirty crack. But don't ever overlook this,old pard. Every dirty crack a woman makes, every terribleblunder, like Beryl's for instance, can be blamed on someman."

"Aw hell! You've said thet before. It ain't so. What did youever say or do to make Nan Halbert double-cross you, an' send usoff to this turrible Australia?"

That blunt query pierced like a blade in Sterl's heart. Thesudden opening of a healed wound flayed him. Still it drove himto be honest.

"Red, I flirted with Nan's best friend--that damned littleblack-eyed hussy who wouldn't let any man alone."

"Hell you say! You mean Flo, of course. Wal, so did I! Thetain't nothin' atall."

"Well, it was enough to make Nan furious. Then to hurt me shewent hotfoot after Ross Haight. And there she made her terribleblunder. It was my fault."

"But, you locoed two-faced Romeo, you never told me thet. Youswore Nan liked Ross best."

"I lied, Red," returned Sterl, somberly, closing thejournal.

"Wal, I'm a son of a sea cook!...If you'd told me thet backhome, Ross Haight could have gone to jail for his little gunplay.An' we wouldn't be heah!"

"For me, Red, it is better so. Only I grieve for what I ledyou into."

"Funny how things came about. But you needn't grieve too hard.I'm not sorry."

"Honest, Red?" appealed Sterl, earnestly.

"Honest to Gawd. This trek is right down my grub-line trail.'Course I've had an orful blow in the gizzard. But if I get overit, an' we get through..."

"Red, Leslie's hurt that you wouldn't go with her to seeBeryl. You used to be kind to anyone sick, even a horse."

"Mebbe I was. Mebbe I've changed a lot," rejoined Red,bitterly. "I wouldn't want to see Beryl if she was like she usedto be before thet hot spell, but let alone now, after..."

"Red! You're hard," exclaimed Sterl, sharply.

"Shore. Harder than the hinges on the gates of hell. But ifyou cain't see thet I've had aplenty to make me hard, wal, you'reas blind as a bat!"

"Red Krehl," flashed Sterl, "are you keeping something secretfrom me?"

"Hellsfire, man, you can think, cain't you?" cut out Red, withthat icy edge in his voice. "An let's change the subject."

The trek fell back into its old, leisurely, time effacingstride. One day was like another, though every league of thatlonely land had infinite variety as well as endless monotonySterl had his surfeit of loveliness. It had passed into hisbeing. At last seas of green and golden grass, islands offlowers, kangaroo-dotted plains, flamboyant bush-land, myriads ofbirds, flocks of emus, mile-wide ponds where the mob splashedacross, scattering the flocks of water fowl, winding tiny brooksand still reed-bordered streams, and always, every hour of thelong day, that illusive beckoning haunting purple mountainrange--at last Sterl Hazelton's soul was everlastingly filled tothe brim with these physical things which he divined were rewardsin themselves.

Seventeen days, to where the headwaters of the middle forksprang from the tropic verdure of the foothills. "Camp here twodays," boomed Stanley Dann. "We will rest the stock, makerepairs, and scout for this Gulf road. Eric has not found ityet." Leslie named the place Well-spring. It was felicitous,because the splendid volume of water sprang as from a well, deepunder the shadow of a bold, dark green foothill. Bill, withScotty, the other cook, prepared the best meal they could devise,in honor of Beryl Dann's first attendance at supper for manyweeks.

While they waited at their tent, Sterl had had some words withhis friend.

"Pard, you will be decent to Beryl? You have not spoken to hersince--since that mess!"

"Umpumm," drawled Red.

"Say, do you see that?" rang out Sterl, extending a bigfist.

"Shore, I ain' blind."

"You know where it used to hurt you to be hit?"

"Ahuh. My belly. An' I ain't recovered yet, either."

"That's dinkum. If you don't swear to be nice to Beryl, I'lllam into you right now. And I'm not fooling."

"Yeah? Wal, I choose the wusser of two evils. I'll speak toBeryl an' be as--as nice as I can. It's gotta be done sometime,jest for appearances. An' after all what the hell do I care?"

Then Leslie arrived; once again, after so long an interval,clad in feminine apparel, a flowered gown in which she lookedextremely pretty.

"Red, you'll--come?" she asked falteringly.

"No, Les," he said, contriving to wink at Sterl. "Umpumm, nixcome the weasel!"

That he could jest at such a moment, certainly poignant andimportant to Leslie, called to all that was spirited in her.

"You ornery, bullheaded, low-down..." she burst out, chokingover the last two words, which, like those preceding, were fromRed's vocabulary. Then as quickly as the flare-up of her temper,she broke into sobs.

"Aw now, Leslie, don't bawl, please," begged the cowboy, whocould not bear to see a girl cry. "Don't you see I'm all sprucedup? I'll go with you an' do the elegant."

"Hon-nest, Red? You're such a--a brute. You mightbe--teasing."

"No, I mean it. Thet is I'll go if you stop cryin'. Why, theidee! Spoilin' thet happy face!"

Beryl rose from her father's knees to greet her visitors. Herblue gown hung loosely upon her slender form, yet not at theexpense of grace. Every vestige of the golden tan had vanishedfrom her face, the whiteness of which accentuated the lovelinessof her violet eyes and fair hair. Her beauty struck Sterl withgreat force, and suddenly he understood both Ormiston and Krehl.Leslie ran to Beryl. "Oh, it's dinkum to see you out again!"

Beryl returned her kiss and greeting, then offered her twohands to Sterl. "Now, Mr. Cowboy, what do you think of me, up andwell--and rarin' to go?"

"Great!" responded Sterl, heartily, as he took her hands."Beryl, you just look beautiful!"

But she did not even hear that last. Red had stepped out frombehind Sterl, and Sterl saw with a pang what a terrible momentthis was for both of them.

"Beryl--I--I'm shore dog-gone glad to see you out again," saidRed, huskily, and he was both gallant and self-possessed. One ofhis long strides bridged the distance between them. Her eyesdilated and turned black.

"Red--Red!" she whispered, as she put out quivering hands.They groped, missed his, to clutch his blouse. She fell againsthim with a grasp, and fainted in his arms.

"She is not so strong as she thought," said Dann. He took herfrom Krehl and sat her gently down in the one chair. "Mrs.Slyter--Leslie!" he called.

Sterl could not withdraw his gaze from Beryl's face. Her eyeswere closed, long fair lashes on her white cheeks. He turned toRed, and forgot his concern for Beryl in the dumb misery of hisfriend. Dann's hearty voice attested to the fact that Beryl hadregained consciousness.

"I fainted," she said, weakly. "How stupid! I'm all right now.Why, Leslie, you are as white as a sheet."

"No wonder! Beryl, I thought you'd gone to join theangels."

"No such luck for me! Boys, come back. I promise you I won'tbe such a weakling again."

Sterl, with his arm through Red's, dragged the hesitant cowboyto the small circle, of which Beryl was the center. She had colorin her cheeks. The cowboys found seats. Mrs. Slyter insisted thatBeryl sip a cup of tea. Leslie hovered over her.

"Red, perhaps I fainted because sight of you brought youback--as you looked when I last saw you--how long ago?...Agesago?"

"I forget. It shore was an orful long time," drawled Red. "An'about thet faintin'--I knowed a girl once who could faint--or leton--whenever she wanted to knock the daylights out of a feller.So you see, Beryl, I been educated."

"Did that girl faint in your arms?" asked Beryl, her speakingeyes on him.

"Wal, thet was one way she had of gettin' into' em. An' onceshe got there, she'd come to orful quick."

Presently Beryl's nurses, despite her protests, led her awayto her wagon and bed. The look she gave Red as she bade him goodnight was not lost upon Sterl.

At this juncture Eric Dann entered the shelter, greeted thecowboys and drank with Stanley. He had a livid scar on hisforehead, a mark that he would carry to his grave.

Sterl took advantage of the opportunity to question him:"Dann, if I remember correctly we lost the Gulf road halfway ormore down the Diamantina from the forks?"

"Somewhere back there. It didn't concern me then because Iexpected to come across it any day," returned Eric.

"We haven't crossed it. I've kept a sharp lookout for wheeltracks. On level ground half a dozen wagons would leave a rutthat would last for years."

"Surely. We have just missed them, unless, of course, theyhave washed out."

"Did you take this route on your back track?" went onSterl.

"Part way. I don't recall just where we made short cuts."

"Some of these landmarks along here, if you ever saw them, youcouldn't forget."

"Landmarks meant very little to me."

"Hmm, it's unfortunate you did not have an instinct for suchthings," said Stanley. "You said you knew the way, Eric."

"I've told you a hundred times that I thought I did," repliedEric, impatiently.

Sterl made note of the shifty eyes and of the beads of sweatcoming out on Eric's brow, under the livid scar, and his dubiousconjectures became definite doubts. Sterl could never swallow hisrelation to Ormiston.

Red fixed his piercing eyes upon Eric. "Dann, if you don'tknow this country atall you oughta tell us damn pronto."

"But I do know it, in general. I've recognized a good manyplaces we passed at a distance from this trek. I'd like itunderstood that I'll not be put on the witness stand by youAmericans," declared Dann, with signs of nervousness andheat.

"Wal, we Americans ain't puttin' you on nothin', except yoreword," rejoined Red, coolly. Then he asked bluntly. "Have youever been through this Diamantina country?"

Dann made what appeared to be a powerful effort to controlunstable nerves. Nevertheless he did not reply to Red'squery.

"Wal, heah's one you can answer, Mr. Dann, onless..." Red didnot complete his dubious inference. "This heah range we've cometo an' have seen for so many days--there's a pass in it thetnobody could miss seein'. If yore trek or any other trek travelednorth from Cooper Creek up the Diamantina, you or they'd have togo through this pass. Ain't thet figgerin' reasonable?"

"Yes, it is, Krehl. They'd have to," replied Dann,readily.

"All right. Then what kind of country will we find on theother side of this range?"

"It will be practically the same as this."

"Thanks, Dann. We'll remember thet," returned Red,caustically. Then he addressed Sterl: "Pard, do you reckon Ioughta shet up now or relieve my mind to the boss?"

"By all means, Krehl," boomed Stanley.

"Wal, I wouldn't presume to advise you heah. I'm noAustralian. But I've known open wilderness country since I wasknee-high to a grasshopper. This heah country has been changin'.It's altogether different from the forks. Grass shorter an' notso rich, trees fewer an' smaller. An' when you cross that range,you'll find plenty trouble. Thet's my hunch, boss. Take it orleave it."

Turning on a jangling heel Red stalked away from the Dannswith a mien that left little to the imagination. Dann, so seldomperturbed, was bewildered by what was evidently a new aspect tohim.

"Incredible!" he ejaculated. "We should be still hundreds ofmiles from the watershed that ends its streams into the Gulf.Eric, you substantiate this, do you not?"

"Absolutely," answered Eric Dann. "Northeast of this range,when we pass it, we will reach the headwaters of the WarburtonRiver. That runs westward. Beyond that we will come to theheadwaters of rivers emptying into the Gulf."

"That agrees with our map. I am sure Krehl has miscalculated.What do you think, Hazelton?"

"All I say is, I'm sorry we are not trekking west."

"If we should make a blunder now--and go the wrong way..."Sterl heard the leader's voice ring and break but he made it hisbusiness to be watching Eric Dann. Either he was prejudicedagainst this man's vacillation and incompetence, or he sawthrough him with Red Krehl's lynx eyes!

CHAPTER 23

Another conference of Stanley Dann's. A few days out ofWellspring camp, they had approached a break in the foothills,apparently leading to the pass through the range. Eric Dannasserted that he was sure he had been through that notch, goingor coming, and so the mob was driven into its narrow defiles.Larry had reported dubious ground ahead; Red Krehl had climbed toa hilltop to reconnoiter. Upon his return he said to Dann in nouncertain terms, "Cain't see far. But no country to drive cattle,let alone wagons!"

"No hurry, friends," Stanley told his associates. "We'll climbto look the ground over. Krehl should know where and where not todrove a mob."

But Eric Dann leaped from his wagon-seat to confront hisbrother in a terrific fury.

"First it was Hazelton! Now it's Krehl--Krehl--KREHL! I'mtired of having my judgment overruled!"

"Eric, you've lost your temper," replied Stanley, severely."Calm yourself. These cowboys have been a help to me, not adetriment. As others--and you--have been!"

Eric Dann's visage grew purple.

"By God, I'll turn back!" he shouted.

"But that wagon and team are mine," rejoined Stanley Dann,controlling evident heat.

"I don't care. I'll take them. I've earned them on thisinfernal trek!"

Red Krehl slid off his horse.

"Bah! It's a bluff, boss. He hasn't got the nerve."

"Wait, Krehl," ordered Stanley Dann. "Eric, what is it youwant?"

"You brought me on this trek as partner and guide," hoarselyshouted Eric.

"Yes, I did."

"Then hold to that contract or I'll leave you!"

"Eric, I was not aware that I had broken it. Very well, I willhold to it--come what may," returned the leader.

"It's understood that I am the guide?"

"Yes. But you must guide us. Once more, for the last time, doyou know this country?"

"Yes, I do," rasped Eric, passionately, yet he gulped as ifsomething had stuck in his throat. "In a general way, I mean.This is an enormously vast country..."

"Yeah, an' you know it?" interrupted Red, with stingingscorn.

"Yes, I know it, you--you--" burst out the goaded drover,foaming at the mouth.

"Dann, you're a ---- liar! Go for yore gun--if you got theguts!"

"KREHL!" thundered the leader.

"Too late, boss. Stay where you air. Come on, Mr. Eric Dann,throw yore gun!"

Pale-faced instead of red now, gasping and speechless, EricDann turned to spread wide his hands, appealing to theleader.

"Let this end here!" commanded Dann.

"All right, boss, it's ended," replied Red, curtly. "But I'llbet you live to see the day you wish it'd ended my way!"

And they trekked into the hills. Days without end before whatseemed to be the pass; Sterl lost track of days. By now, Slyter,beating down the opposition of Eric Dann, had insisted that thewagons go ahead; for in places they had actually to improviseroads. Sometimes three miles a day were good going. The cattlefound little grass and took to browsing. Many of them strayed.The drovers rode herd at night in five-hour shifts. Slyter'ssecond wagon, with Roland driving, went over a steep bank. Heescaped, but the horses had to be shot. Often at night Sterl andRed could find no level place to pitch their tent. They woulddrop on the ground, cover their heads against mosquitoes andsleep like logs nevertheless. More and more, Sterl inclined tothe truth of Red's caustic forecast.

The nightmare days up a V-shaped valley which led to thedeceiving pass. And then the trek seemed halted for good. Ericand Larry and Slyter returned in defeat from their scouting. ButFriday, last to get back, galvanized their low spirits andenergies.

"Go alonga me," he said, and the black had never failed themyet.

They hitched six horses to a wagon, and with a drover on eachside, pulling with a lasso, and whipping the teams, hauled overthe "saddle" which had blocked them. It took all the rest of thatday to get the other wagons over. The mob had to be left behindin the valley until the morrow.

Riding across that saddle, Sterl groaned his disappointment atthe apparently impenetrable labyrinth of jungle and rock-ribbedconfines ahead. Ten miles or more of incredibly rough goingstretched ahead--a distance that might as well have been tentimes that--and then a gap and a blue void. And then--anotherconference.

"We will go on," declared Stanley Dann. "We can't getthrough," averred Slyter. "I've missed the--the way," added EricDann, falteringly.

No one paid any attention to him.

"Larry, Bligh, what do you say?" queried the leader.

They replied practically in unison that it looked very bad,well-nigh impassable. "Hazelton?" he boomed.

"Boss, we can't go back," said Sterl. "Krehl, what do youthink?"

"Me? Wal, I ain't thinkin' atall," drawled the cowboy.

"Don't bandy ridicule with me!" roared Stanley Dann.

"All right, boss. Excoose me. I ain't no mule-haid. I think wemust find a way out thet we cain't see from heah."

"Right! Men, look for a place where we can camp."

They camped on the right side of the saddle at the base of arugged slope. Firewood and water had to be carried up, a job Redand Sterl took upon themselves. There were no idle hands anymore. Even Beryl helped Mrs. Slyter and Bill.

"You've only begun to pick up," said Sterl to her thatevening. "Please rest."

"Sterl, I'll do my bit," replied Beryl, smiling up at him. Shemight not have realized that she was telling him she had begun tolearn a great lesson of life. How frail she looked, yet her sadface seemed lovelier than ever! She had courage--that thing Sterlrespected more than all else in man or woman. If she lived shewould come through this fire pure gold.

He went out along the saddle to look for Leslie. He met herclimbing the slope on foot, in the track of the wagons, lithe andsupple, clear-eyed as a falcon, her drover's garb ragged andsoiled.

"Howdy, Sterl. Been worrying about me?" she panted.

"No, Les. Only King and the remuda."

"King, Jester, Duke, Lady Jane, all tiptop. Sorrel is lame.Count is fagged out. Sterl, will we ever, ever get through thispass?"

"I don't know--and don't care much."

"Sterl!--that's not like you. Oh, dear boy, you're wornout!"

"Les, you and Beryl make me feel a little ashamed," repliedSterl.

"Sterl, you and Red all through this terrible year have filledmy heart, and Beryl's, and Mum's with courage to carry on. Smallwonder that you lag a little now! But don't fail me, Sterl. Anddon't let Red fail Beryl. It is he who has saved her--who ischanging her very soul...Sterl, would you mind--holding me abit--as you used to?"

But Sterl evaded that, despite the warmth she stirred in hisheart, and made excuses, and talking kindly to her he led her tocamp. Darkness fell upon silent trekkers, some going to theirbeds and others about their jobs, and all with spirits bowed butnot broken.

It took all the next morning to drove the mob over the"saddle." Friday had returned from a scout. To Stanley Dann hespread his wonderful, sinewy black hands, fingers wide. "Boss,might be cattle go alonga dere," he said, and manifestly he meantthey should separate and streak through various channels towhatever lay at the end of that green maze. So like a greatwaterfall the mob poured off the "saddle," to roll and clatterdown, to disappear almost at will in the jungle.

Then began the feverish and ceaseless labor of fourteen men tochop and build a road for six wagons through ten miles ofwilderness jungle.

It dwarfed all their former labors. After five days ofdigging, chopping, carrying rocks, packing supplies, wading inmud and water and grass, all the toilers except Stanley Dann andSlyter forgot about the cattle and horses. Every day Friday,whose duty it was to report on the mob would say: "Cattle alongdere farder," and that day when he said: "Cattle gone!" not oneof the trekkers betrayed anxiety. It was now a battle for theirlives.

In daylight, the flies were almost as fierce as at the forks,and at night the mosquitoes were so thick and bloodthirsty thatthey would have killed an unprotected man. The second cookpractically died on his feet, sticking it out with fever anddysentery, and then collapsing. Monkton was bitten by a deathadder and for days his life was despaired of.

In the middle of that jungle Eric Dann made a startlingproposal.

"We should abandon the wagons and pack out!"

Stanley Dann, soiled and sweaty and bedraggled, gazed at thisblood kin of his with great, amber eyes that had not lost theirmagnificent light.

"What about the women?" he asked.

"They can ride horseback. I asked Beryl. She said she could,"returned Eric, eagerly.

"We are two thousand miles from anywhere. Beryl woulddie."

"If she gave out--we could carry her!" exclaimed thisextraordinary man.

The giant shook his shaggy golden head, wearily, as if it wasuseless to listen to his brother.

"We can't get through," bawled Eric Dann, his voice rising. "Iclimbed up to see. We're not halfway! Man, would you sacrifice usall for your worthless daughter?"

Red Krehl leaped upon Dann and felled him. He would havekicked the man, too, but for a sharp cry. Beryl and Leslie hadheard and seen. But it could not silence him.

"Dann, I'm gonna kill this brother of yores yet," bitterlypredicted the cowboy.

"Red, don't kill Uncle Eric. Not for me!" cried Beryl,passionately. "I'm not worth it. I was a fool. I was vain,brazen, mad! But Uncle Eric only knows the half. I planned withAsh Ormiston--that he should seem to steal me from my bed. Hemeant to kill anyone who opposed him--especially to kill UncleEric, with whom he had plotted. I agreed to go with him, to saveUncle Eric's life, to save Dad from ruin, if not worse. ButOrmiston betrayed me. He stole Dad's cattle. He would havemurdered Uncle Eric but for me. He--He..."

She broke down then. Leslie led her away from the stunnedgroup of men. Eric Dann slunk away under the trees. Of allpresent, Sterl thought, his friend Red seemed the most staggeredby Beryl's revelation. It was not in his case, as in that of theothers, that Beryl's participation in Ormiston's plot had come tolight. Red had known that! He had kept it secret even from Sterl.But now he knew why the girl had betrayed him and her father andall of them.

After what seemed a long silence Stanley Dann said: "Men, weare being sorely tried, but let us not lose our faith in God andin each other. Krehl, I thank you, but I disagree, with mydaughter. She is worth--all she declared she was not."

"Wal, boss, if you ask me, I kinda reckon so myself," returnedRed Krehl, ponderingly.

"All of you back to work. We are goin' through!" boomed theleader.

Sterl bent for his shovel and whispered to his friend: "Pard,now my job is to keep you from being shot in the back!"

Before many more hours passed that break in their toil, withits resurgence of lulled passions, was forgotten in sheerphysical exhaustion.

But at last, and when the trekkers were sunk to their lowestebb, Friday found a gateway for them out into the open. Theyfaced vastly different country from that which Eric Dann hadpictured to them. A few miles below a gentle green slope, outupon a velvet green down, Stanley Dann's mob of cattle grazed ina great colorful patch. Beyond them spread endless other downsdotted with clumps of pandanuses and palms, streaked by blackfringes of trees, bisected from league to league by shiningthreads of water, and bordered by limitless purple horizon. Theywere all so overjoyed to get clear of that awful jungle that noone of them asked audibly where they were. Only Sterl thought ofwhat Eric Dann had sworn--that the country beyond the range wouldbe the same as that at the headwaters of the Diamantina.

CHAPTER 24

Days of leisurely and comfortable going now, over level downswith grass and water abundant but firewood so scarce thatwhenever they found any deadwood Bill collected it for the nextcamp. But one jarring fact--in a week's trekking they reached apoint opposite the flattening out of that range whose crossinghad cost them so many supplies, so much toil and life. By aweek's detour, they could have gone round it. Six weeks more thanlost!

Late one afternoon, the black, ragged line that had graduallygrown for days turned out to be a good-sized river. It flowednorth. It presented a problem, not only to cross, but because thewater, flowing the wrong way, upset their calculations. TheWarburton, for which Dann thought he was trekking, would haveflowed due west. According to the leader's rude map, when theycrossed it they would be headed north to a point between theNever-never Land and the Gulf and would cross the headwaters ofall the streams flowing into the Gulf. At Dann's conference, thefirst for a long time, Eric Dann asserted positively. "This isthe Flinders River. Probably we are two or three hundred milesfrom the Gulf."

"Flinders River? Gulf?" echoed Stanley, aghast. "That meanssalt water, crocodiles and cannibal abo's!"

"Gosh!" ejaculated Red Krehl. "Boss, of course, hunches meannothin' atall to you. But let's follow mine an' rustle back ontodry land."

Any suggestion of the cowboy's was to Eric Dann like a redflag to a bull.

"Stanley, it's along the fringe of the Never-never that badblacks are to be encountered," he said, impressively.

"How do you know that?" demanded the leader intensely.

"I know it," returned Eric, stubbornly. "What is yourobjective?"

"Southeast of Port Darwin," answered the brother, glibly,"there are fertile ranges. We can choose to stop there, if youlike, and send in to Darwin for supplies. I think you will decidefor this site instead of the Kimberleys."

"Yes, true enough," mused the leader. "We have thatinformation from more than one reliable source. I could alwaysmove on to the Kimberleys. Eric, you have made mistakes--thislast one, terrible! But in your heart are you speakinghonestly?"

Before that stern and just leader, the hawk-eyed cowboys, andthe dubious Slyter with his drovers, Eric Dann solemnly assertedhis truth. What--Sterl wondered--was his game?

The river, which Leslie called the Muddy, appeared to be freshwater, though it had a weedy taste, and the middle channel had tobe swum. Neither accident nor injury marked the crossing of thewagons and the herd, though it took four days of persistentlabor.

Leslie and Beryl, with Friday, had been left for the last.Stanley Dann sent the cowboys Larry and Rollie back for them.

"Where's a horse for me to ride?" demanded Beryl, as thebedraggled riders waded their horses out to the bank.

"Boss's order is for us to pack you over," replied Larry,uneasily.

To Sterl's surprise, and certainly to Red's, Beryl acquiescedwithout further remark.

"Red, I'd feel safer with you on Duke. He's so big," saidBeryl, casually. "Besides you have carried me already."

Sterl leaped off to help Beryl up in front of Red. Red put hisleft arm around her, and Beryl put her right arm around his neck.Anyway Sterl looked at the position it was an embrace, reluctanton Red's part, subtly willing on Beryl's. She laid her head backand looked up at him.

"Red, it won't take long," said Sterl, in cheery significance.But he did not mean to trip across.

"I don't care how long it takes--if only..." murmured Beryl,with a hint of her old audacity.

Red's reaction was as natural as his sincerity was hidden."Slope along, Duke," he drawled. "Pick out that deep hole, fallin, an' never come up!"

Red entered the river with Larry close on one side and Rollieon the other. Leslie waited for Sterl, who watched the trio aheadfor a moment before he started. Then he became aware of Leslie'spoignant joy at sight of Beryl in the cowboy's arms.

"Oh, Sterl! Isn't love wonderful?" she sighed, dreamily.

"It must be. I can't speak from personal experience, asevidently you can. But real love must be wonderful."

"That's true, you devil!" flashed Leslie, disrupted from hersweet trance, and rode ahead of him, splashing the water in greatsheets.

Sterl idled along, reflecting sadly that this little byplayhad been the first pleasantry, the first lessening of the rawtension, for many a week.

Dann's caravan covered in five days some fifty miles of greendowns, not one long or short stretch differing noticeably fromany other. Its beauty palled, its sameness irritated the nerves;its monotony grew unbearable.

But on that fifth day darker and apparently, higher groundbroke the level horizon. Two more days' travel proved that itconsisted of low ridges and round areas covered with dense butscrubby timber. No blue foothills, however, loomed above thewandering black line of scrub. And the day came when Sterl,gazing backward, could no longer see the shadowy, purple ranges.They kept on to the northwest, traveling by compass.

"Slyter," said Sterl, at Blue Grass camp, "if we are trekkingthrough this country to get to the headwaters of theWarburton--it's all right. But if we're trekking deeper intothese downs..."

"Red says if we follow this four-flusher Eric Dann muchfarther we'll be lost."

"We're the same as lost now, Sterl. But I won't nag Stanleyany more. He's set. We're going through, he swears. Says toremember the bad times before--how we always came out."

Days and days and days! And dark cool dewy nights, when thestars blazed white, the bitterns boomed from the reed-borderedlakes and streams, and the owls hooted dismally in the pandanusscrub! The moon soared in the sky, blanching the endless downs.Solitude reigned. Sterl fought a feeling that they had reachedthe end of the world. Insupportably slowly the trek went on intothis forbidding land of grass.

They came at length into a stranger, blacker, wildercountry.

The dense growth of bush denoted a river--a river somewherebeyond the dark fringe of giant ash trees and bloodwoods andenormous trees with multiple trunks grotesque and gnarled. Theycamped where a huge wide-spreading banyan afforded a thick greencanopy for the whole caravan. A boiling spring of sweet water ranaway from the bank of bushland, forming a little stream thatmeandered away toward a pale lake, black and white withwaterfowl. Kookaburras flew under the trees, perched on branchesto watch the intruders, but they were silent. And that strangefeature alone affected the morbid trekkers. The sun slanted inwhat appeared the wrong direction. Sterl was completely turnedaround. Red wearily said he did not give a damn and that hewished what was going to happen would come pronto.

Friday appeared at suppertime. There was that in his mien toinduce awe. All the trekkers mutely interrogated him; then theleader asked, "What ho, Friday?"

"Plenty bad black fella along dere. Big ribber. Plenty croc.Plenty salt."

They were crushed. Stanley Dann sat with his elbows on hisknees, his broad hands over his golden beard. The corded veinsstood out upon his bronzed brow.

"Lost!" he ejaculated, in a hollow voice. "Hundreds of milesout of our way."

"Salt water!" burst out Slyter, appalled.

"It must be the Flinders River," croaked Eric Dann.

"Wha-at?" roared the giant. "According to you we crossed theFlinders weeks back!"

"But afterward I remembered it was not. This is the Flinders.Near its source. Once across we will find higher ground."

He seemed so fired with inspired certainty that most of hislisteners, grasping at straws, felt a renewal of hope. But Redand Sterl eyed him with suspicion.

The sun rose on the wrong side.

"Spread along the river to find a place to cross," orderedStanley Dann to his drovers.

Below camp some distance, Sterl, Red and Larry found anopening in the bush where the mob could be driven to the river,and where a road could be opened for the wagons.

"Look dere," called Friday, who strode beside Sterl, and hepointed to smoke signals rising beyond the break in the bush."Imm black fella know."

They rode through the opening, with Friday in the lead,scaring the tiger snakes out of his path with his long spear, andpresently emerged upon the low bank of a wide river. Slopes ofyellow mud ran a hundred yards out to meet the turgid channel ofabout the same width, and the opposite slope ran up to thebush.

"Tide running out. Swift too," observed Larry.

"Gosh, you mean this heah is tidewater?" queried Red.

"It must be. Friday said it was salt water."

"Friday, go alonga see how deep mud," said Sterl.

Ankle-deep the black waded some rods out, and then began tosink in deeper and deeper until he was over his knees.

"Even with the tide in full the mob would have to wade a bit,at least close to shore," observed Larry, seriously. "And thewagons. What a job to cross them here!"

"Righto. But it can be done," averred Red.

"We'd cut poles and brush to make a road. Thet channelbuffaloes me, though. What say, Sterl?"

"Boys, without the menace of crocodiles, which Fridaymentioned, we'd have a killing job here. Larry, how big do theseGulf crocodiles grow?"

"Up to twenty-five feet, I've heard. They can break a man'sleg with one whack of their tails."

"Red, how will we get the girls across?"

"Aw, thet's a slicker. I was thinkin' about it. If we only hada boat! Mebbe we could build a raft. In a pinch we might use thebed of our wagon. But I wonder--should we go across?"

They rode back to camp. The other drovers who had ranged stillfarther up the river reported no practical crossing.

"Boss, there's a ford below. But it looks awful tough," saidSterl.

"Mr. Dann, cain't we get out of tacklin' this heah river?"queried Red, anxiously.

"Krehl," returned the chief, patiently, "as we cannot go backwe must cross."

"Hell no! We can go back aways, an' thet'd save an orful job,a lot of cattle, an' somebody's life shore as Gawd made littleapples! Dann, yore a cattleman as big as all this heah outdoors.But a dry land drover."

But Eric Dann's abnormal and malignant obsession againprotruded its hydra head.

"Krehl is afraid," he shouted, hoarsely. "Once and for all, Idemand to be heard! No foreigner is going to upset my plans--tomake me ridiculous."

"Brother," rejoined the leader, "I ask you once more--do youknow what you're doing when you advise us to cross thisriver?"

"Yes, I know. I know too that Krehl is afraid. Ask himyourself. I'll ask him! See here, cowboy, are you man enough toconfess the truth--that you are afraid?"

Red Krehl gave the drover a long, uncomprehending gaze. Dannwas indeed a new one for the Texan. Then he spoke: "Hell yes. Ishore am afraid of this river, the crocs an' the abo's. But Ireckon I oughta be more afraid of you, Mr. Dann. Because you're aqueer mixture of fool, liar an' crook."

Sterl restrained himself until this argument ended, then headdressed the leader.

"Dann, I want you to know--and to remember--that I stronglyadvise against the attempt to cross this river here."

"Sorry, Hazelton. But we cross!"

But the river and the tide had something to say about that,and when they were right, as near as the drovers thought theycould be, then the cattle had the last word. This mob had beenextraordinarily docile and easily managed, as the cowboys knewcattle. Many of the calves and cows that had distinguishing marksor habits that brought them into the daily notice, had becomeveritable pets. Toward the end of that day, however, theymanifested evidences of a contrary disposition. Aboutmidafternoon Friday reported that they stopped grazing and becameuneasy. Slyter went out to observe for himself. Upon his returnhe announced: "For some reason or other they dislike thisplace."

"Then, we may be in for a night of it. I wouldn't care to tryto stop a rush in this bush."

"Might be smellum crocs," said Friday.

Flying foxes had appeared during the afternoon, great,wide-winged, grotesque bats, swishing out of the brush over thecattle, and their number increased toward sunset.

"Shore, it's them dinged bats thet have the herd buffaloed,an' they're gonna get us, too," said Red Krehl.

Here was one camp where a fire did not flame brightly,cheerily. The wood burned as if it were wet, and the smoke wasacrid. Night settled down black, with the stars obscured by thefoliage on three sides.

Supper had been eaten and five drovers had ridden out on guardwhen all left in camp were startled by a weird, droning sound offin the bush, apparently across the river.

"Black fella corroboree. Imm no good," said Friday, his longblack arm aloft.

Suddenly--a trampling roar of hoofs. The cowboys were as quickto leap up as Larry and Rollie. Slyter came thudding from hiswagon. Eric Dann lifted a pale and haggard face. "A rush!" criedStanley Dann.

"Aw, I knowed it," said Red, grimly. "Come, Sterl. Let'srustle our hosses."

"Wait, you cowboys," ordered Dann. "Some of us must guardcamp. Larry, Roland. Call Benson and join the drovers outthere."

Slyter made off with the hurrying drovers, shouting somethingabout his horses. Friday, at the edge of the circle of light,turned to the others and yelled, "Tinkit mob run alongahere!"

"My God!" boomed Stanley Dann.

"Stand ready all! If the mob comes this way, take to thetrees!"

The increasing roar, the quaking ground, held all thoselisteners fraught with suspense and panic for an endlessmoment.

"Stampede'll miss us!" yelled Red Krehl. Then Friday stoopedto make violent motions with his right arm, indicating that theherd was rushing in the direction of the river. Gun-shots bangedfaintly above the din.

"All right! We're safe!" yelled Sterl, and then felt himselfsag under the release of tension. It had been a few moments ofterrible uncertainty.

Then a crashing augmented the trampling roar. The stampede,now evidently pointed up the river, had run into the bush. Thenoise lasted for minutes before it began to lessen in volume.

"Providence saved us again," rang out Stanley Dann, in immenserelief. "But this rush will be bad for the mob."

"Dog-gone bad for the drovers, too, I'd say," declaredRed.

"You may well think so. But usually a mob does not rush long.I am hopeful."

"They might stampede into the river," interposed Sterl.

Eric Dann sat down again and bent his gaze upon the ruddy fireembers. It was necessary to sit close to the heat and smoke to beeven reasonably safe from mosquitoes. Eric Dann, however, satback in the shadow. Not improbably he had too much on his mind tofeel bites. Presently Slyter returned to camp.

"Horses all right," he was saying to Dann as they approachedthe fire. "The rush was bad. But half the mob were notaffected."

"That was strange. Usually, cattle follow the leaders, likesheep. Uncanny sort of a place."

"Righto. I jolly well wish we were out of it. Hello, Mum. Youand Les should be in bed."

"I see ourselves, with the mob threatening to run us down. AndStanley calling us to climb trees!" retorted his good wife. "Butwe'll go now."

"Beryl, that would be a good idea for you," said herfather.

"I'm afraid to go to bed," replied the girl, petulantly.

"Me too," added Leslie. "These sneaky, furry bats give me thecreeps. I just found one in our wagon. Ugh!"

"Well, as long as Sterl and Red have to sit up, I suppose it'sall right for you girls. But it's not a very cheerful place forcourting."

Beryl let out a scornful little laugh. "Courting! Whom onearth with?"

"Sometime back it was royalty condescending. Now it's how themighty have fallen!" returned Mrs. Slyter, subtly, and leftthem.

"Leslie, whatever did your mother mean by that crypticspeech?" asked Beryl, annoyed.

"Oh, Mum's got softening of the brain," returned Leslie, andshe dropped down on the log very close to Sterl. Red, who satacross the fire from them, looked up at Beryl, who wasstanding.

"Say, all you women have softenin' of the brain," hedrawled.

"Yeah?" queried Leslie.

"Is that so, Mr. Krehl?" added Beryl.

"Yes, it's so. Take that crack of Leslie's mother, forinstance. Les's Ma an' you girls air of one mind, I reckon. Theidee is to collar a man, any man temporarily, till you meet upwith one you aim to corral for keeps."

"That is true, Red. Disgustingly true," admitted Beryl,suddenly frank and earnest. "But Les and I are not to blame forbeing born women."

"I reckon not, Beryl," returned Red, conciliated by hersincerity.

"Go on, Red. You were going to say something," went onBeryl.

"I was," rejoined the cowboy. "It seemed to me kind offarfetched an' silly--thet sentimental yearnin' of yores, if itwas thet. Heah we air lost in this Gawd-forsaken land. Aw, I knowEric there swears we ain't lost, but thet doesn't fool me, an'this hole is as spooky an' nasty a place as I ever camped. It'smore. It's a darned dangerous one. We jest escaped somethin'tough. An' thet's why I jest wondered at you womenfolks, feelin'thet soft, sweet mushy sentiment in the face of hell."

"Red Krehl, that's the wonder of it--that we can feel and needsuch things at such a time," returned Beryl, eloquently. "I leftsuch things behind, to come with my father. I could have gone tolive in Sydney. But I came with Dad. And you've seen something ofwhat I've suffered. This hard experience has not wholly destroyedmy sensitivities, my former habits. I can see why Sterl thinkswe're going bush. I can see that we'll turn into abo's, if we'restuck here forever. But just now, I'm a dual nature. By day I'mcourageous, by night I'm cowardly. I can't sleep. I'm afraid ofnoises. I lie with the cold chills creeping over me. I can'tforget what--what has already happened to me. Red Krehl, you saidyou wonder at me. But I say it's a wonder you cannot see how I'dwelcome any kindness, any attention, any affection, to keep mefrom thinking!"

It was a long speech, though quickly spoken, one that Sterltook to his heart in shame and self-reproach. He was intenselycurious to see how Red would take it, and somehow he had faith inthe cowboy's greatness of soul.

"Come heah, girl," said Red, gently, and held out his hand.Beryl stepped to him and leaned, as if compelled. He drew her toa place beside him on the narrow pack, and he put his arm aroundher to draw her close. "I'm sorry I made all them hard cracksabout this place. Only I'm glad, 'cause I understand you better.But Beryl, I reckon you can't figger me out. When all was goin'fine back on this trek you gave me some pretty bad times. So,even if I wanted to be sweet an' soft about you, which I shoredon't after the way you treated me, I couldn't be on account ofwhat this damn trek has done to me. I've saved yore life a couplatimes, an' I reckon I'll have to do thet a heap more. If I wasn'ta hard-ridin, hard-shootin' cowboy, a killer, grim an' mean, Icouldn't do thet much for you. Thet ought to make you see meclear."

"Oh, Red," Beryl cried, poignantly, "I don't want you anydifferent!"

The thud of hoofs disrupted this scene, and Larry rode up.Friday came running to throw brush upon the blaze.

"Larry, you're all bloody!" exclaimed Sterl.

"No, Just ran--into a snag," panted the drover. "Let me--sitdown."

Dann arrived to bend over Larry. "Bad scalp cut. Girls, fetchwater and linen. Larry, are you all right?"

"Yes, sir--except played out."

"Where are the other drovers?"

"Back with what--was left of the mob. That rush got--away,sir."

"How many?"

"Benson said one-third of the mob. They rushed into the bush.They were a crazy lot of cattle. They crashed through thebush--some into the river. So we yelled to come together--thenrode back. That mob will work out of the bush by morning."

Meanwhile Dann had unwound the scarf from Larry's head andbegan to dress the wound. Slyter told the girls to go to bed, andthis time they obeyed. Red was sent off to take Larry's placewith the drovers and Sterl ordered to stay in camp.

When toward dawn Red and Rollie came in, relieved by two ofDann's drovers, Sterl lay down beside Red. The sun was up whenFriday called them.

"Where black fella, Friday?"

"Alonga dere. No good. Hidum about. Watchum white man."

"Sterl, these abo's up heah 'pear to be a different breed. Allsame Comanche Injuns," said Red.

They found the drovers straggling in. Benson reportedtwo-thirds of the mob intact. Their ragged garb, scratched hands,bruised faces gave evidence of their strenuous effort to headthat rush.

"We stopped it, five miles west," reported Bligh, wearily."They're out in the open, not many on their feet. Dehorned,crippled, snagged--a sorry mess!"

Friday appeared, carrying a kangaroo that he had speared.

"Plenty roo," he said. "Ribber full up. Plenty croc."

"Friday, see any blacks?" asked Sterl.

"Black fella imm conga bush. Bimeby."

"Men, eat and drink all you can hold," said Stanley Dann."We'll leave those cattle that started the rush last night untilthe last. If they scatter, we'll abandon them. Our mob has beentoo large. We'll break camp now. Move all the wagons and horsesto the open break in the bush below. Then drove the main mobcloser. Two guards on and off for two hours. We'll ford the riverwith the wagons, divide our party and camp on both sides untilthe last job, which will be to drove the mob across."

It was a bold and masterly plan, Sterl conceded. The executionremained to be an inspiration of genius and a heroic job. Theymounted and rode away.

The river! The drovers, even their leader, had only to gowithin sight of that reed-bordered, mud-sloped yellow swirlingtide to be confronted by seeming impossibilities.

"Friday, where are the crocodiles?" boomed Dann.

"Alonga dere," replied the black, his spear indicating theriver and the margins of reeds.

"Slyter, do they hide in the grass?"

"Yes, indeed. These big crocs live on animals. This water isbrackish. Kangaroos, wild, cattle, brumbies would drink it. I'vebeen told how the crocs lie in wait and with one lash of theirtails knock a large animal or an aborigine into the water."

"They may not be plentiful. But all of you use your eyes. Haveyour guns ready. Slyter, you will drive your wagon in first. Senda drover ahead to test the bottom. Make haste, while the tide isin."

They all watched Heald wade his sturdy horse into the river.After perhaps a hundred steps, he returned to say: "Mud bottom.Soft. But not quicksand. If you keep your horse moving you canmake it."

"What will a heavy wagon do?" queried Slyter, dubiously.

"It'll stick, but not sink," declared Dann. "We have heavyropes and strong horses. We can pull out." In a moment moreSlyter, accompanied by Dann and six drovers, had driven his bigteams into the river.

Slyter had not got quite so far out as Heald had waded whenthe wheels stuck. Two drovers leaped out of their saddles tounhitch the teams. Bligh and Hood dragged the teams out. Rollie,with a bag in front of him and a cracking stockwhip in hand, keptabreast of the teams. Soon they were swimming. Four droversfollowed carrying packs. Slyter stood up in his wagon, rifle inhand, watching vigilantly.

"Crocs over dere all alonga," cried Friday, pointing.

Sterl saw the reeds shake and part. "Grab your rifle, Red," heshouted.

Suddenly on the opposite bank there was a loud rush in thereeds, then a zoom, as a huge reptile leaped off the bank andslid upon the narrow strip of mud. But it was not quick enough toescape Red's shot.

Sterl heard the bullet thud, and then the huge reptile floppedup and flashed into convulsions. Sterl let out a yell as he drewa bead upon it and pulled the trigger. The distance was nothingto a marksman. His bullet, too, found its mark.

Another! Four shots left that reptile rolling in the mud. Itsback seemed broken.

"Dere, alonga dere!" shrilled Friday, pointing below.

Slyter was shooting at another one, smaller and nimbler. Butthere was another rush and zoom as a big one catapulted off thebank to meet a hail of lead. Crippled and slow, he crawled intothe river.

Stanley Dann's horse appeared, wading out. The drovers draggedand yelled at the teams, while Rollie cracked his long whip frombehind. They got across at last and climbed the bank to depositthe packs and find a place to land the wagon. Then they piledinto the river pell-mell, keeping close together, some of themwith drawn guns held high.

Slyter yelled, "Make all the commotion possible."

They crossed in short order and, loading heavily, turned backin haste, crossed again. Suddenly Friday screeched out somethingaboriginal. Then Slyter roared unintelligibly, and began to pumplead into the water. A thumping splash followed, then a viciouschurning of the surface, yellow and red mixing.

"I got him!" shouted Slyter, peering down. "Right on top ofme--longer than the wagon! Never saw him till he came up!"

When the drovers arrived at the wagon again, Stanley Danncalled out lustily: "Boys, that was splendid work. I heard yourbig bullets hit. It's not so bad having Yankee gunmen withus!"

During nine more trips, while the cowboys, with Slyter, Larryand the black kept vigil from several points, nothing untowardhappened. Dann, with three of the drovers, then remained on thefar side with the teams backed out into the shallow water, whilethe other three, dragging tackle and ropes, swam their horsesback to make fast to the wagon.

Bligh slid off his horse, and waist-deep groped about with hisfeet to find the wagon tongue. To watch him thus exposed made thecold sweat ooze out all over Sterl. Bligh found it, and wentclear under to lift it up. In a moment more the heavy tackle wasfast. He yelled and waved to Dann. The two teams sagged down anddug in; the drovers in front of the wagon laid hold of the thickrope. Slyter lifted his arms on high, swung his rifle, and addedhis yell to that of the others. A moment of strain andsplash--then the empty wagon lurched, moved, half floated. Slyterstood up on the driver's seat, balancing himself, still peeringinto the water for crocodiles. The two teams and the six singlehorses did not slow up until the wheels touched bottom. In a veryfew moments the wagon was safely up on the bank. Despite thecrocodiles the achievement augured well for the success of theoperation.

CHAPTER 25

All this time the tide was slowly going out. The channel splitwide bare stretches of mud. Sterl observed that a big crocodilewhich he had thought surely killed had disappeared from the bankopposite. The one Slyter had shot lay on its back, clawlike feetabove the shallow water.

Some of Dann's party cut poles and brush to lay lengthwise onthe mud over the plowed-up tracks of wheels and horses. Bill setabout erecting a canvas shelter to work under; Sterl, Red andFriday hurried at camp tasks the crossing had halted. PresentlySlyter and Dann's drovers, all except Roland, who had been lefton the far side of the river, arrived muddy and wet, noisy andtriumphant, back in camp.

"Volunteer wanted to drive the small dray," called theleader.

They all wanted that job. Dann chose Benson, the eldest. Sixmen cut brushy trees while two riders snaked these down to theriver. Dann and Slyter built the corduroy road. Eric Dann lent ahand, like one in a trance. Friday pointed to aborigine smokesignals far back in the bush, and shook his shaggy head.

Many energetic hands made short work of the road on the campside of the river. It was significant that Slyter covered hisdead crocodile with brush. Then Benson drove the one-team off thebank. The brush road upheld both horses and wheels as long asthey moved. But it stuck in the channel and, before it crossed,the drovers had to unload it and carry its contents to the farbank. By this time the afternoon was far spent, and Bill hadsupper ready. Benson volunteered to pack supper across to Rolandand Bligh, left on guard, and remain over there with them.

The drovers, bedraggled, slimy from the river mud, ate likewolves, but were too tired to talk. Sterl and Red went out onduty with the mob.

Again the night was silent, except for the bark of dingoes andthe silken swish of flying foxes. But the mob appeared to be freefrom the fears of the night before. Sterl and Red kept together,and after a few hours, one of them watched while the other slept.But Sterl, in his wakeful intervals, could not rid himself ofmisgivings. His mind conjured up fateful events for which thereseemed no reason.

At last the dawn came, from gray to daylight, and then aruddiness in the east. He awakened Red from his hard bed on thegrass. They rounded up the remuda, and changed their mounts forKing and Duke.

"Red, it's dirty business to risk Leslie's horses in thatriver," said Sterl, as they rode campward.

"Wal, I was thinkin' thet same. We won't do it, 'cept to crossthem. We'll fork two of these draft hosses. But, Holy Mackeli,they cain't keep one of them crocs away! I swear, pard, I neverhad my gizzard freeze like it does at thet thought."

"Nerve and luck, Red!"

"Them drovers shore had it yestiddy." Breakfast was over atsunrise, Friday approached the fire to get his fare.

"Crocs alonga eberywhere," he announced.

That silenced the trekkers like a clap of thunder. Slyter, thecowboys, and the drovers followed the striding Dann out to viewthe stream. A dead steer floated by in mid-channel, gripped byseveral crocodiles. Downstream a cow or steer had stranded in theshallow water. Around it ugly snouts and notched tails showedabove the muddy water. Upstream on the far side a third cow,stuck in the mud, was surrounded by the reptiles.

Larry explained, "Night before last a number of cattle rushedinto the river. We heard them bawling and plunging."

Slyter said, "Blood scent in the river will have every crocfor miles down upon us."

"It may not be so bad as it looks," replied the leader withhis usual optimism. "Let's cross Bill's dray at once. Tell Billto keep out food and tea for today and tomorrow. One of you toput tucker on the dray for the boys across there. A kettle of hottea! Who'll drive Bill's dray?"

Red Krehl elected himself for that job. But Dann preferred tohave the cowboy on shore, rifle in hand, and selected Heald. Hedrove in until the water came almost to the platform of thewagon. Then the procedure of the day before was carried out witheven more celerity. It struck Sterl that in their hurry thedrovers were forgetting about the crocodiles, which might havebeen just as well. The big job done the drovers took time out fora cup of tea. That inevitable rite amused Sterl.

"Ormiston's wagon next," shouted Stanley Dann. "That dutyfalls to Eric."

The drovers hitched two teams to this wagon, while others, atthe leader's order, unpacked half of its contents. Flour inspecial burlap sacks and other food supplies came to light.

At the take-off the leading team balked, and upon being urgedand whipped they plunged, and Eric laid on the stockwhip. Nodoubt a scent of the dead crocodiles came to them. Stanley Dannboomed orders that Eric did not hear or could not obey. About ahundred steps out was as far as either of the other vehicles hadbeen driven. But Eric drove until the teams balked, with theleaders submerged to their shoulders. This was extremely bad,because it was evident that they were sinking in the mud. Half adozen drovers urged plunging horses to the rescue.

At that critical moment Friday let out a wild yell. Sterl sawa dead steer, surrounded by crocodiles, drifting down upon theteams.

"Back, Heald! Back, Hood!" shouted Sterl, at the top of hislungs. "Crocs!"

Snorting, lunging, the horses wheeled and sent mountains ofwater flying. They reached the shore just as the dead steerdrifted upon the teams and lodged. Stanley Dann was yelling forhis brother to climb back over the wagon and leap for his life.Eric might have heard, but his gaze was glued to the melee underhim.

The dead steer drifted in between the two teams to lodgeagainst the wagon tongue, and the great reptiles attacked thehorses. The snap of huge jaws, the crack of teeth, could be heardamid the roar of water and the clamor of the drovers.

Eric pulled his gun and shot. Not improbably he hit the horsesinstead of the crocodiles. The left front horse reared high witha crocodile hanging to its nose. Sterl sent a bullet into itshead, but it did not let go. It pulled the horse under. The rightfront horse was in the clutches of two crocodiles. The riflecracked. Sterl shot to kill a horse if he missed a crocodile. Thesecond team had been attacked by half a dozen of theleviathans.

And at that awful moment for Eric Dann, horses and wagon werepulled into deep water. The wagon sank above its bed and floated.Eric leaped to the driver's seat and held on. As he turned tothose on shore his visage appeared scarcely human. The wagondrifted down the river.

"Fellers, fork yore hosses!" yelled Red. Leaping on Duke, hisrifle aloft, he raced into the bush downstream. Sterl was quickto follow, and he heard the thud and crash of the drovers at hisheels. When he broke out into the clear, a low bank affordedaccess to the river, which made a bend there. He came out at theedge of the mud. Red had Duke wading out. The wagon had lodged inshallow water. A horrible fight was going on there. Beyond itseveral other crocodiles were tearing at a horse that had beencut adrift. Eric Dann still clung to the driver's seat.

Stanley Dann and his followers arrived. For once, the leader'sbooming voice was silent at a crisis.

Red threw aside his rifle. He held his revolver in his lefthand and his lariat in his right. At that moment, a lean,black-jawed crocodile stuck his snout and shoulders out of thewater, and, reaching over the wagonbed, snapped at Eric. Hemissed by more than two feet.

The horses had ceased to struggle. What with the tugging andfloundering of the crocodiles the wagon appeared about to tiltover. It would all be over with Eric Dann if the reptiles did nottear the horses free.

Red sent his grand horse plunging into the water. Duke's earsstood up, his piercing snorts made the other horses neigh wildly.Red was taking a chance that the crocodiles would be too busy tosee him. When Duke was up to his flanks and the curdled, foamymaelstrom scarcely a lasso's length distant, Red yelledpiercingly, "Stand up, Eric!"

The man heard, and tried to obey. But he must have beenparalyzed with horror.

"Stick our yore laig--yore arm!" shrieked Red, in a fury, andhe shot the outside crocodile, sliding into view.

But Eric was beyond helping himself. Again that ugly brutelunged out and up, his corrugated jaws wide, and as they snappedthey missed by only a few inches.

Then the lasso shot out, and the noose cracked over Eric'shead and shoulders. Red whirled the big horse and spurred himshoreward. Eric was jerked off the wagon, over the very backs ofthe threshing crocodiles. Red dragged him free, through theshallow water, up on the mud. He leaped off, to run and loosenthe noose. Eric's head had been dragged through the mud. Stanleyand two drovers lifted the half-dead man, and carried him ashore.Sterl sat on his horse with his throat constricted. He had notcared much about Eric Dann, but the mad risk that intrepid cowboyhad run!...

"He ain't--hurt none," Red panted, coiling the muddy rope. "Iwas afraid --I'd get the noose--'round his neck. But it was adamn narrow shave! Pard, that's one hoss--in a million. By Gawd,I was scared he--wouldn't do it. But he did--he did!"

They laid Eric Dann on the bank to let him recover. Sterldismounted, and every time a head or a body lunged up he met itwith a bullet. But the angle was bad. Most of the bullets glancedsingingly across the river. One by one the horses were torn loosefrom the traces, and dragged away, until they disappeared underthe deep water.

The heavy wagon had remained upright, with the back end andwheels submerged. The tide was falling.

"Miraculous, any way you look at it!" exclaimed Stanley Dann."Red Krehl, as if my debt to you had not been great enough!"

"Hell, boss. We've all been around yestiddy an' today, whenthings came off," drawled the cowboy.

At low tide Ormiston's wagon was hauled out and back to camp.The girls clamored for the story. Red laughed at them, but Sterltold it, not wholly without elaboration. He wanted to see BerylDann's eyes betray her quick and profound emotions.

"For my uncle! Red--when he hated you!"

"Beryl, all in a day's ride," drawled Red. "Now if you wasonly like Duke!"

"Red, I am not a horse. I am a woman," she rejoined with noresponse to his humor.

"Shore, I know thet. I mean a hoss, if he's great like Dukean' cottons to a feller why he'll do anythin' for you." Red alsohad turned serious. "Beryl, I'd die for him, an' shore he'd diefor me."

"I'd like you to feel that way for me, Red Krehl," shereturned, vibrantly. "I would die for you!"

"Wal, yore wants, like yore eyes an' yore heart, air too bigfor you, Beryl."

Leslie let go of Duke's neck to face Red.

"Red, I give Duke to you. And you can return Jester to me,"she said.

"Wal! Dog-gone-it, Les, you hit me below the belt!"

"It'll make my happy. And Beryl too." Stanley Dann broke inupon them with his booming order:

"Cut more poles. We'll relay the road and cross my wagonbefore this day is done."

While his drovers worked like beavers, he had Beryl's bed andbaggage unloaded. Stanley drove his big wagon across. Fridaysighted crocodiles, but none came near. Load and wagon werecrossed in record time, after which six drovers carried Beryl'sbelongings across in two trips.

The sun set red and evilly. The trekkers ate, and tried to beoblivious of the abo signals, the uncanny bats, the howls of thedingoes and the unseen menace that hovered over this somber camp.Stanley Dann roused them all in the gray of dawn. It was wet andchill. Dingoes bayed dismally in the bush. The cowboys found twoof Dann's drovers mustering horses for the day. The cowboysbridled Duke, King and Lady Jane, and drove the rest of Leslie'shorses into camp. Stanley Dann's hearty voice, his spirit, thedrab gray dawn lighting ruddily, the hot breakfast--all seemed towork against the gripping, somber spell.

"Men, this is our important day," boomed the leader. "Roland'swagon first. Unload all the heavy articles. Pack these bags ofdried fruit Ormiston had--unknown to me. Slyter, will you driveRoland's wagon?"

"Yes," replied Slyter. "Mum, you ride with me."

"With Beryl and Leslie that will be a load!" said Dann.

"Dad, I won't cross in the wagon," spoke up his daughterdecidedly.

Leslie interposed to say, "I'm riding Lady Jane."

The leader gazed at these pioneer daughters with greatluminous eyes, and made no further comment. He hurried theunpacking, and the hitching of two big draft horses to Roland'swagon. The sun came up gloriously bright. When Slyter mounted thehigh wagon seat, shouts from across the river told him that thedrovers over there were ready. Roland straddled one of the leadhorses of the teams. The tide was on the make, wanting a foot inheight and a dozen yards up the mud bank to fill the riverbed.

"Friday! Everybody watch the river for crocs," ordered theleader.

Leslie sat her horse, pale and resolute. She knew the peril.At this juncture Beryl emerged from the tent, slim in her rider'sgarb. She carried a small black bag.

"Red, will you carry me across?" she asked, simply. Her darklydilated eyes betrayed her terror.

"Shore, Beryl, but why for?" drawled the cowboy.

"I'd feel safer--and--and--"

"Wal, dog-gone! There. Put yore foot on my stirrup. Up youcome! No, I cain't hold you that way, Beryl. You've gotta forkDuke. Slip down in front of me. Sterl, how about slopin'?"

"Friday grins good-o," replied Sterl, grimly. "Les, keep aboveme close. Larry, keep upstream from Red. Idea is to movepronto!"

They plunged in, passed Slyter's teams and the drovers,reached the deeper water, breasted the channel.

"Fellers, get ready for gunplay!" shouted the hawk-eyed Red."Shet yore eyes, Beryl!"

Across the river from the reedy bank above Roland's positioncame a crackling rush, a waving of reeds, then a zoom, as a bigcrocodile took to the water. The guns of Roland's group banged;mud splattered all around the reptile.

Farther upstream, muddy-backed crocodiles, as huge as logs,piled into the river. The drovers were clamoring in fright andexcitement. Slyter had driven his teams in up to their flanks.One drover was unfastening the traces, while two others wereready to drag the teams into the channel. Sterl spared only aglance for them. Roland and his men came pounding through theshallow water. Halfway across--two-thirds! Bligh's horse waslunging into the channel above Larry, carrying the tackle andrope for the wagon.

Suddenly, almost in line with them, an open-jawed,yellow-fanged monster spread the reeds, and zoomed off the bank.Red, Sterl, Larry, Roland, were shooting. But the crocodile cameon, got over his depth, and disappeared.

"Watch for the wake!" called Red. "Thet feller is mean. Heahhe comes! See them little knobs. That's his haid!"

Sterl espied them. He regretted having left his rifle in thewagon.

"Drop behind me, Leslie," he called. "Don't weaken. We'll getby him."

Sterl did not fire because he did not want to drive the bruteunder water again. Evidently Red had the same thought. He headedDuke quarteringly away from the long ripple, and leaned farforward, gun extended. His left arm held the drooping girl. Atthe right instant he spurred Duke. Just then Duke struck bottom,and lunged. The crocodile was less than six feet distant when Redturned his gun loose. The bullets splashed and thudded, but theydid not glance. With a tremendous swirl the reptile lurchedpartly out of the water, a ghastly spectacle. Sterl sent twoleaden slugs into it. Falling back, the monster began to rollover and over, his ten-foot tail beating the water into foam.

Red waded Duke past the teams and waiting drovers, out ontothe bank. The drovers cheered. Ster, with Leslie behind him,followed Red up to the new camp. Red slid off and laid his gun onthe grass. Beryl swayed, her eyes tight shut.

"Beryl, come out of it," shouted Red. Her arms fellweakly.

"I won't--faint! I won't," she cried with passion still leftin her weak voice.

"Who said you would?" drawled Red, as he helped her off.

Leslie dismounted and came to Beryl. They clung together--agesture more eloquent than any words.

"Come, pard. Let's slope out there," called Red.

When they rode out on the mud flat again Sterl was amazed tosee Friday dragging what evidently was the monster crocodile intoshallow water. A long spear sticking in the reptile spoke foritself. A splashing melee distracted Sterl. The two teams werestraining on the ropes, plowing through the mud. Between them andthe wagon the drovers were yelling and hauling. Sterl observedthat this wagon, the one in which he had calked the seams,floated almost flat. Mrs. Slyter stood behind her husband hangingon the seat while he made ready for the waiting teams. Once thewagon was in shallow water they unfastened the ropes and tackles,hitched the two teams and gave Slyter the word to drive out.

Sterl and Red followed the muddy procession up the bank.

Friday said to Sterl and Slyter, "Tinkit more better boss waitalonga sun. Crocs bad!"

"We can't stop Dann now," Slyter said, grimly. "Come, allwho're going back."

"Wal, if you ask me we oughta load our guns," drawled Red.

CHAPTER 26

Five drovers crossed the river with Sterl and Red. Dann metthem like a general greeting a victorious army.

"We've time to drove Slyter's horses across, and carry theseloose supplies," he said. "Tomorrow we will muster the cattlethat rushed and drove the mob."

When next morning the drovers had the big herd lengthened outto perhaps half a mile, at a signal from Dann they opened firewith their guns and charged. The fifty-yard wide belt of cattleheaded for the river and piled over the low bank. Across theriver crocodiles basked in the sun, their odor thick on the air.The leading cattle took fright and balked. Then it was too late.The pushing, bawling lines behind forced them. Some of them werebogged, to be trampled under. But almost miraculously the mobwere driven into the mud before they could attempt a rushback.

The point of least resistance lay to the fore. The leaders hadto gravitate that way. From the opposite bank crocodiles sliddown and shot across the mud into the shallow water. Releasedfrom a wall in front, the mass behind piled frantically into theriver. As if by a miracle, thousands of horned heads breasted thechannel. In several spot swirling, churning battles ensued,almost at once to be overridden by swimming cattle. As the frontline struck bottom, the stench of the crocodiles and theirfurious attack precipitated a rush that was obscured in flyingspray.

"Come on, pard!" yelled Red, from below. "We wanta be closebehind that stampede or the crocs will get us!"

All the other drovers were in the mud, some at the heels ofthe mob, others shooting crippled and smashed cattle. The horseherd, driven in the wake of the mob, excited by the roar, madefrantic efforts to get ahead. When they found bottom again, andplunged on into shallow water, Sterl looked up.

A sea of bobbing backs sloped up to a fringe of bobbing horns.The long belt of cattle was moving with amazing speed. Sterlgazed back. Mired cattle dotted the river. Squirming crocodilesattested to the trampling they had received. Only one horse wasdown, and it had appeared to be struggling to rise.

"Laig broke!" yelled Red, close to Sterl's ear. "Saddled too!By Gawd, pard, that's Eric Dann's hoss! An' if he ain't lyin'there on the mud, my eyes air pore!"

Stanley Dann reached the prostrate man and horse ahead ofBligh and Heald. Sterl and Red got there as the drovers weredismounting, to sink ankle-deep in the mud.

"It's Eric!" boomed the leader, as he leaned over."Dead--or--no! He's still alive."

"Horse's front legs broken," reported Bligh, tensely.

"Shoot it! And help me--two of you."

They lifted him across Bligh's saddle. How limp he hung! Whata slimy, broken wreck of a man!

"Hazelton, you and Krehl and Heald follow the mob," orderedthe leader, harshly. "That rush will end soon."

From the height of the bank Sterl looked over bushland andgreen downs which led to higher and denser bush. In theforeground, the mob of cattle had halted.

"All the stampede is out of them," said Red.

"Crocodile stampede. New one on us, Red," rejoined Sterl.

"Cost Dann and Slyter plenty. Hundreds of cattle down, daidan' dyin'. Sterl, about Dann's drovers--after this last shuffle,what's the deal gonna be?"

"You mean if Eric Dann holds up the trek?"

"I shore mean that little thing."

"Damn serious, pard."

"Serious? If Bligh an' Hood an' the others stick it out, I'dsay it'll be a damn sight more than any Americans would do. 'Cepta couple of dumb-haid, lovesick suckers like us!"

When the cowboys arrived, the cattle had begun to lie down,too exhausted even to bawl. The horses had scattered off to theleft toward camp. Sterl and Red helped muster them and drove themwithin sight of the wagons.

"What held up Stanley Dann?" inquired Bligh, as the droverscollected again. Bligh was a young man, under thirty, gray-eyedand still-faced, a man on whom the other drovers leaned.

"Eric's injured. Legs broken I think," replied Sterl.

Bligh exchanged apprehensive glances with his intimates. Heturned back to Sterl: "If the boss's brother is unable to travel,it'll precipitate a most serious situation."

"We appreciate that. Let's hope it's not so bad he cannot bemoved in a wagon."

"Yes. You hope so, but you don't believe it," said Bligh,brusquely.

"Righto."

"Hazelton, we think you and Krehl are wonderful drovers, andwhat is more, right good cobbers," said Bligh, feelingly.

"Thanks, Bligh," returned Sterl, heartily. "Red and I surereturn the compliment."

"For us this trek seems to have run into a forlorn hope."

"Well, Bligh, I'm bound to agree with you. But it's not a lostcause yet."

The drover shook his shaggy head, and ran skinned, dirtyfingers through his scant beard. "Friends, it's different withyou cowboys, on account of the girls--if you'll excuse my sayingso."

Neither Beryl nor Leslie put in an appearance at supper. Dannseemed for once an unapproachable figure. Slyter conversed in lowtones with his wife, and once Sterl saw him throw up his hands ina singular gesture for him. Red stayed in the tent. The sevenyoung drovers remained in a group at the other side of camp,where Bligh appeared to be haranguing them.

Suddenly Bligh, leading Derrick, Hood and Heald, rose andstarted toward Stanley Dann's shelter. Pale despite their tan,resolute despite their fear! It did not seem a coincidence thatBeryl and Leslie appeared from nowhere; that Slyter came out, hishair ruffled, his gaze fixed; that Red emerged from his tent, hislean hawklike head poised; that Friday hove in sight, lending tothe scene the stark reality of the aborigine.

Under Dann's shelter it was still light. Mrs. Slyter stoodbeside the stretcher where Eric Dann lay, his head and shoulderspropped up on pillows, fully conscious and ghastly pale. His legswere covered with a blanket. Stanley Dann sat with bowed head.The drovers halted just outside of the shelter. Bligh took afurther step.

"Mr. Dann, is it true Eric is injured?" burst out Bligh, as ifforced.

Dann rose to his full height to stare at his visitors. Hestalked out then like a man who faced death.

"Bligh, I grieve to inform you that he is," he said.

"We are--very sorry for him--and you," rejoined Blighhuskily.

"I'm sure of that, Bligh."

"Will it be possible to move him? In a wagon, you know, tocarry on our trek?"

"No! Even with proper setting of the bones he may be a cripplefor life. To move him now--over rough ground--would beinhuman."

"What do you intend to do?"

"Stay here until he is mended enough to travel."

"That would take weeks, sir. Perhaps more..."

"Yes. Weeks. There is no alternative."

Bligh made a gesture of inexpressible regret. He choked. Hecleared his throat. "Mr. Dann, we--we feared this very thing...Wetalked it over. We can't we won't--go on with this wild-goosetrek. You started all right. Then Ormiston and your brother...Nosense in crying over spilled milk! We've stuck to the breakingpoint. We four have decided to trek back home."

"Bligh--you too!" boomed the leader. Sterl saw him change asif he had shriveled up inside.

"Yes, me!" rang out Bligh. "You ask too much of young men. Webuilt our hopes on your promises. Hood has a wife and child.Derrick is sick of this...We are going home."

"Bligh, I have exacted too much of you all," returned Dann."I'm sorry. If I had it to do over again...You are welcome to go,and God speed you...Take two teams for Ormiston's wagon. It ishalf full of food supplies. Bill will give you a box of tea. Andif you can muster the cattle that rushed up the river--you arewelcome to them."

"Boss--that is big and fine--of you," returned Bligh,haltingly. "Honestly, sir..."

"Don't thank me, Bligh. I am in your debt."

Eric Dann called piercingly from under the shelter."Bligh--tell him-- tell him!"

"No Eric," returned Bligh, sorrowfully. "I've nothing totell."

"Tell me what?" boomed the leader, like an angry lion aroused."Bligh, what have you to tell me?"

"Nothing, sir. Eric is out of his head."

"No, I'm not," yelled Eric, and his attempt to push himselfhigher on the stretcher ended in a shriek of pain. But he did situp, and Mrs. Slyter supported him.

"Eric, what could Bligh tell me?" queried Stanley Dann,hoarsely.

There ensued a silence that seemed insupportable to Sterl.Every moment added to the torment of coming terrible disclosures.Eric Dann must have been wrenched by physical pain and mentalanguish to a point beyond resistance. "Stanley--we are lost!" hegroaned.

"Lost?" echoed the giant, blankly.

"Yes--yes. Lost!" cried Eric wildly. "We've been lost all theway! I didn't know this bushland...I've never been on a trekthrough outback Queensland!"

"Merciful heaven!" boomed the leader, his great arms goingaloft. "Your plans? Your assurances? Your map!"

"Lies! All lies!" wailed Eric Dann. "I never was inland--fromthe coast. I met Ormiston. He talked cattle. He inflamed me abouta fabulous range in the Northern Territory--west of the Gulf.Gave me the map we've trekked by. I planned with him to persuadeyou to muster a great mob of cattle...I didn't know that he wasthe bushranger Pell. That map is false. I couldn't confess--Icouldn't--I kept on blindly...We're lost--Bligh knows that.Ormiston could not corrupt him. Yet he wouldn't betray me to you.We're lost--irretrievably lost. And I'm damned--to hell!"

Stanley Dann expelled a great breath and sat down on a pack asif his legs had been chopped from under him.

"Lost! Yea, God has forsaken me," he whispered.

Bligh was the first to move after a stricken silence. "Mr.Dann, you've got to hear that I didn't know all Ericconfessed."

"Bligh, that is easy to believe, thank heaven," said Stanley,presently, his voice gaining timbre. "We'll thresh it all outright now...Somebody light a fire to dispel this hateful gloom.Let me think a moment." And he paced somberly to and fro outsidethe shelter. Presently Stanley Dann faced them and the light;once more himself.

"Listen, all of you," he began, and again his voice had thatwonderful deep roll. "I cannot desert my brother. Whoever doesstay here with me must carry on with the trek when we are able tocontinue. I have exacted too much of you all. I grieve that Ihave been wrong, self-centered, dominating. Beryl, my daughter,will you stay?"

"Dad, I'll stay!" There was no hesitation in Beryl's reply,and to Sterl she seemed at last of her father's blood and spirit."Don't despair, Dad. We shall not all betray you!"

A beautiful light warmed his grave visage as he turned toLeslie. "Child, you have been forced into womanhood. I doubt ifyour parents should influence your decision here."

"I would not go back to marry a royal duke!" repliedLeslie.

"Mrs. Slyter, your girl has indeed grown up on this trek,"went on Dann. "But she will need a mother. Will you stay?"

"Need you ask, Stanley? I don't believe whatever lies in storefor us could be so bad as what we've lived through," rejoined thewoman, calmly.

"Slyter?"

"Stanley, I started the race and I'll make the goodfight."

"Hazelton!" demanded Dann, without a trace of doubt. Hisexclamation was not a query.

"I am keen to go on," answered Sterl. "Krehl!"

The cowboy was lighting a cigarette, a little clumsily,because Beryl was hanging onto his arm. He puffed a cloud ofsmoke which hid his face.

"Wal, boss," he drawled, "it's shore a great privilege you'vegiven me. Jest a chance to know an' fight for a man!"

Larry, Rollie, and Benson, almost in unison, hastened to alignthemselves under Red's banner.

Bill, the cook, stepped forward and unhesitatingly spoke:"Boss, I've had enough. I'm getting old. I'll go home withBligh."

"Bingham, put it up to our black man Friday," said Dann.

Slyter spoke briefly in that jargon which the blackunderstood.

Friday leaned on his long spear and regarded the speakers withhis huge, unfathomable eyes. Then he swerved them to Sterl andRed, to Beryl, to Leslie, and tapped his broad black breast witha slender black hand: "Imm no fadder, no mudder, no brudder, nogin, no lubra," he said, in slow, laborious dignity. "Tinkit gobush alonga white fella cowboy pards!"

At another time Sterl would have shouted his gladness, buthere he only hugged the black man. And Red clapped him on theback.

Suddenly a heavy gunshot boomed hollowly under the shelter,paralysing speech and action. The odor of burnt powder permeatedthe air. There followed a queer, faint tapping sound--ashuddering quiver of hand or foot of a man in his death throes.Sterl had heard that too often to be deceived. Stanley Dann brokeout of his rigidity to wave a shaking hand, "Goin--somebody--see!" he whispered.

Benson and Bligh went slowly and hesitatingly under theshelter. Sterl saw them over Eric Dann on the stretcher. Theystraightened up. Bligh drew a blanket up over the man's face.That pale blot vanished under the dark covering. The droversstalked out. Bligh accosted the leader in hushed voice: "Preparefor a shock, sir."

Benson added gruffly: "He blew out his brains!"

Red Krehl was the first to speak, as he drew Beryl away fromthat dark shelter. "Pard," he ejaculated, "he's paid! By Gawd,he's shot himself-- only good thing he's done on this trek!Squares him with me!"

CHAPTER 27

No man ever again looked upon the face of Eric Dann. The agonyof his last moment after the confession of the deceit whichplunged his brother and the drovers into tragic catastrophe wascloaked in the blanket thrown over him. An hour after the deedwhich was great in proportion to his weakness, he lay in hisgrave. Sterl helped dig it by the light of a torch which Fridayheld.

They were called to a late supper. Bill, actuated by a strangesentiment at variance with his abandonment of the trek, excelledhimself on this last meal. The leader did not attend it.

No orders to guard the mob were issued that night. But Sterlheard Bligh tell his men they would share their last watch. Thegirls, wide-eyed and sleepless, haunted the bright fire. They didnot want to be alone. Sterl and Red sought their own tent.

"Hard lines, pard," said Red, with a sigh, as he lay down."It's turrible to worry over the other people. But mebbe thissteel trap on our gizzards will loosen now that Eric at last madea clean job of it. You never can tell about what a man willdo...An' as for a woman--didn't yore heart jest flop over whenBeryl answered for her dad?"

"Red, it sure did!"

"Bingham, we break camp at once," said Stanley Dann as he metSlyter at breakfast. "What do you say to trekking west along thisriver?"

"I say good-o," replied the drover. "Why not divide the loadon the second dray? There's room on the wagons. That dray is wornout. Leave it here."

"I agree," returned the leader. Already the tremendousincentive of starting a new trek, in the right direction, hadseized upon them all.

"My wife can drive my wagon. So can Leslie, where it's notoverrough. We'll be shy of drovers, Stanley."

"Plenty bad black fella close up," Friday broke in.

Rollie tramped up to report that the mob was still resting,but that the larger herd of horses had been scattered.

"We found one horse speared and cut up. Abo work," addedRollie.

"Could these savages prefer horseflesh to beef?" queried Dann,incredulous.

"Some tribes do, I've been told. Bligh heard blacks early thismorning," asserted Slyter. "We cannot get away any too soonnow."

Bligh and his three dissenters drove a string of horses acrossthe river. Bill, the cook, had slipped down the bank, under coverof the brush, to straddle one of those horses. He did not saygood-by nor look back but followed the drovers down the path, andinto the river.

"Queer deal that," spoke up the ever vigilant Red, who sat bythe fire oiling his rifle. "Bligh was sweet on Beryl at first.You'd reckon he'd say good-by an' good luck to her, if not theold man."

"Red, I'll bet you two-bits Bligh comes back."

"Gosh, I hope he does. I jest feel sorry for him, as I shoredo for the other geezers who got turribly stuck on BerylDann..."

"Uh--oh!" warned Sterl, too late.

Beryl had passed Red, to hear the last of his scornful remarkto Sterl.

"You're sorry for whom, Red Krehl?"

"Beryl, I was sorry for Bligh," drawled Red, coolly. "Me an'Sterl air gamblin' on his sayin' good-by to you. I'm bettin' thetif he's smart he won't try. Sterl bets he will."

"And if Bligh's smart why won't he try to say good-by to me?"retorted Beryl.

"Wal, he'll get froze for his pains."

"He will indeed--the coward! And now what about the othergeezers who're stuck on Beryl Dann?"

"Aw, just natoorally I feel sorry for them."

"Why--Why! You-all-of-a-sudden noble person!" she flashed,furiously.

"Wal, Miss Dann, it so happens thet I'm one of themunfortunate geezers who got turribly stuck on you," returned thecowboy.

All in one moment, Beryl was transformed from a desperatelyhurt woman, passionately furious, to one amazed, bluntly told thetruth that she had yearned for and ever doubted, robbed at onceof all her blaze, to be left pale as pearl.

"Mr. Krehl, it's a pity--you never told me," she cried."Perhaps the geezer who's so terrible stuck on me might havefound out he's not really so unfortunate, after all."

"Come out of it, kids," whispered Sterl. "Here comes Bligh,and I win the bet."

The young drover faced Sterl to remove his sombrero and bow.Water dripped off him from the waist down.

"Beryl, I dislike to go--like this," he said huskily. "Butwhen I came on this trek I had hopes--of--of--of--you know what.I pray your Dad gets safely through--and I wish you happiness. Ifit is as we--we all guess, then the best man has won!"

"Oh, Bob, how sweet of you!" cried Beryl, radiantly, and allthe pride and scorn of her were as if they had never been. "I'msorry for all-- that you must go...Kiss me good-by!" And givinghim her hands she leaned to him and lifted a scarlet face. Blighkissed her heartily, but not on the lips. Then releasing her heturned to Sterl and Red.

"Hazelton, Krehl, it's been dinkum to know you," he said,extending his hand. "Good-by and good luck." Then Bligh espiedDann coming from his wagon, and strode to intercept him. At thatinstant Red leaped like a panther. "Injuns!" he yelled."Duck!"

Sterl ducked, his swift gaze taking the direction of Red'sleveling rifle. He was in time to see a naked savage on the ridgein the very action of throwing a spear. Then Red's rifle cracked.The abo fell back out of sight on the ridge.

Sterl heard, too, almost simultaneously, the chucking thud ofa spear entering flesh. Wheeling he saw the long shaft quiveringin the middle of Bligh's broad back.

"Get down behind something!" yelled Sterl, at the top of hislungs. And he ran for the rifle against a wagon wheel.

"Plenty black fella--close up," panted Friday, and pointed tothe low rise of brushy ground just back of camp.

Red's rifle cracked again. There was a hideous screech ofagony. Dann and Slyter had taken refuge behind Slyter's wagon. Adrover was hurrying the women inside it. "Lie down!" Slytercommanded. "Stanley, here's one of my rifles...Watch sharp! Alongthat bit of bush!"

Yells of alarm from the drovers across the river drew fromDann a booming order: "Stay over there! Ride! Abo attack!"

Sterl swept his glance around in search of Red. It passed overBligh, who was lying on his side, in a last convulsivewrithing.

"Pard," shouted Red, from behind the dray a dozen steps away,"they sneaked on us from the left. They'll work back that way an'I seen Larry an' Ben riding' hell-bent for the river bank. We'llheah them open the ball pronto..."

Red's rifle spoke ringingly. "Ha! These abo's ain't so carefulas redskins."

"Where's Rollie?"

"To my right heah, back of the log. But he's only got hissix-gun. Pard, put yore hat on somethin' an' stick it up, allsame old times."

The ruse drew whistling spears. One struck the wagon seat; theother pierced Sterl's hat and jerked it away.

Again Red shot. "I got that bird, pard. Seen him throw. Aw,no, these blacks cain't throw a spear atall!"

Then the drovers across the river entered the engagement, andLarry and Benson began to shoot.

"They must be slopin', pard, but I cain't see any," calledRed.

The firing ceased. One of the drovers across the river hailedDann: "They broke and ran. A hundred or so."

"Which way?"

"Back over the downs."

"You drovers get on!" yelled Dann. "Clear out! Bligh's donefor!"

Friday appeared, darting from tree to tree, and disappeared.Red came running to join Sterl. "All over most before itstarted," he said. "Did you bore one, pard?"

"I'm afraid not. But I made one yell."

"Wal, I made up for thet. They was great tall fellers, Sterl,an' not black atall. Kinda a cross between brown an' yaller."

Presently Friday strode back into camp, his arms full ofspears and wommeras. The cowboys met him, and Slyter and Dannfollowed in haste. Rollie was next to arrive.

"Black fella run alonga dere," said Friday. "All afraid guns.Come back bimeby."

Red gazed down at the dead drover. "My gawd, ain't thet tough?Jest a second quicker an' I'd saved him! I saw somethin' out thecorner of my eye. Too late!"

"Bligh stepped in front of me in time to save my life," rolledDann, tragically. "That black was after me! Friday, will thoseabo's track us?" queried Dann.

"Might be. Pretty cheeky."

"Pack! Hazelton, you and Krehl go with Larry and Benson. Drovethe mob up the river. We'll follow behind the horses. Slyter, youand Friday help me bury this poor fellow."

Riding out with the drovers, the cowboys had a look at thedead aborigines. The savage who had murdered Bligh lay in thegrass on the open ridge where Red had espied him. The abo did notresemble Friday in any particular. He was taller, more slender,more marvelously formed. The color appeared to be a cast betweenbrown and red. His visage was brutish and wild, scarcely human.Red was wrathful over the fine horse the abo's had slaughteredand cut up. "Hossmeat eaters! When there was live beef an' daidbeef for the takin'!"

The mob had moved upriver of its own volition. The droverscaught up in short order. The ground on this side of the rivermade better going than that on the other. The surface was hardand level, the grass luxuriant, and clumps of brushland widenedaway to the north. The sky was black with circling, droppingbirds of prey. The large gum trees were white with birds. Aheadof the mob, kangaroos dotted the rippling downs.

Friday, trotting along beside Sterl's horse, spears andwommera in hand, often gazed back over his shoulder. It was notpossible to believe they had seen the last of this strange andwarlike tribe of aborigines. According to Slyter, a daylightattack was extremely rare. The earliest dawn hour had always beenthe most favorable for the blacks to attack and perhaps the worstfor the drovers, since tired guards are likely to fallasleep.

Toward sundown Slyter left his wife to drive his wagon andmounting a horse rode ahead, obviously to pick a camp site.Besides grass, water and firewood, there was now imperative needof a camp which the aborigines could not approach under cover.Sunset had come when Slyter finally called a halt. Three gumtrees marked the spot. Off toward the river a hundred rods grew adense copse fringed by isolated bushes. The rest was level,grassy downs.

"From now on everyone does two men's work," boomed Dann. "Mrs.Slyter and the girls take charge of rations and cooking. We menwill supply firewood, and wash dishes."

"It's important to sleep away from the fire and the wagons,"asserted Slyter. "Keep a fire burning all night. Blacks oftenspear men while they are asleep."

"Old stuff for me an' Sterl, boss," drawled Red. "We're usedto sleepin' with one eye open. An' heah--why we can heah agrasshopper scratch his nose!"

But none of the trekkers laughed any more, nor smiled.

The cowboys helped Dann and Slyter carry ground cloths,blankets and nets over to the fringe of brush near the copse.That appeared to be an impenetrable thorny brake, a favorableplace, thought Sterl. Beds were laid under the brush. The threewomen were to sleep between Dann and Slyter. The greedymosquitoes had become a secondary trial.

The men returned to the fire.

"It will be bright moonlight presently," Dann said. "That's inour favor, Benson, take Larry and Roland on guard. I needn't tellyou to be vigilant. Stay off your horses unless there's a rush,or something unusual. Come in after midnight to wake Hazelton andKrehl."

"Hazelton, where will you sleep?" asked Benson.

"What do you say, Red?" returned Sterl.

"Somewhere pretty close to these trees, on the side away fromthe open. We'll heah you when you call."

When a gentle hand fell on his shoulder and Friday's voicefollowed, Sterl felt that he had not had his eyes closed longerthan a moment.

"All well, Friday?" he asked.

"Eberytink good. But bimeby bad," replied the black.

Red had sat up putting on the coat he has used for a pillow.Everything was wet with dew. The moon had soared beyond thezenith and blazed down with supernatural whiteness. The downsresembled a snowy range. A ghastly stillness reigned over thewilderness. Even the mosquitoes had gone.

At the campfire the three drovers whom they were to relievesat drinking tea.

"How was tricks, Ben?" asked Red.

"Mob bedded down. Horses quiet. Not a move. Not a sound."

The mob was like a checkerboard on the silvery downs. Theypassed the two herds of horses, the larger of which, Dann's, weregrouped between the cattle and the camp.

Red chose a position near a single tree on that side fromwhich they could see both the mob and the remuda. They remainedon foot. Friday made off into the ghostly brightness, returned tosquat under the tree. His silence seemed encouraging.

"Let's take turns dozin'," suggested Red, and proceeded to putthat idea into execution.

Sterl marked a gradual slanting of the moon and a diminishingof the radiance. He fell into half slumber. When he awakened themoon was far down and weird. The hour before dawn was close athand.

"Pard, there's no change in the herd, but Dann's horses haveworked off a bit, an' Slyter's air almost in camp," said Red.

"Ssh!" hissed the black. If he had heard anything he did notindicate what or whence. Rifles in hands, the cowboys stoodmotionlessly in the shadows of the tree. Several times Fridaylaid his ear to the ground, an action remarkably similar to thatof Indian scouts they had worked with. The gray gloom made thecampfire fade into a ghostly flicker.

"Smellum black fella!" whispered Friday suddenly. Like ahound, his keenest sense was in his nose. An aboriginal himself,he smelled the approach of his species on the downs.

"What do?" whispered Sterl, hoarsely, leaning to Friday'sear.

"Tinkit more better alonga here."

"Pard, I cain't smell a damn thing," whispered Red.

"I'm glad I cain't. If we could--these abo's would beclose...Red, it's far worse to stand than a Comanche stalk."

"Sssh!" The black added a hand to his caution. Again thecowboys became statues.

"Obber dere," whispered Friday. And to Sterl's great relief hepointed away from camp. But though Sterl strained his ears to theextent of pain he could not hear a sound.

Suddenly the speaking and sinister silence broke to a thud ofhoofs. Sterl jerked up as if galvanized.

"Skeered hoss. But not bad. Reckon he got a scent, likeFriday," whispered Red.

Another little run of hoofs on soft ground!

"I heahed a hoss wicker," whispered Red, intensely. Fridayheld up his hand. Events were about to break, and Sterl greetedthe fact with a release of tension.

Whang! On the still air sped a strange sound, familiar, thoughSterl could not identify it. Instantly there followed thepeculiar thud of missile entering flesh! It could not have been abullet, for no report followed. Hard on that sound came theshrill, horrid unearthly scream of a horse in mortal agony. Apounding of hoofs--and a heavy body thudding the ground. The herdtook fright, snorting and whistling.

"You savvy wommera?" asked Friday, in a whisper.

"I shore did. An' you bet I shivered in my boots," repliedRed.

Then the strange sound, almost a twang, became clear toSterl's mind.

"Black fella spearum hoss," added Friday.

Red broke into curses. "They're cuttin' up one of ourhosses...I can heah the rip of hide! Let's sneak over an' shootthe gizzards out of them!"

CHAPTER 28

Sterl gave grim acquiescence to Red's bold suggestion. ButFriday whispered: "More better black fella go alonga bushcorroboree."

"Pard, he talks sense," said Red. "It's better we let theabo's gorge themselves on horse meat, than for us to run thelittlest risk."

"Righto, Red. But it galls me," rejoined Sterl, and lapsedinto silence again. New, faint sounds reached their ears--whatmust have been a rending of bones. Splashing sounds succeeded;then the keenest listening was in vain. At daylight Red said hewould ride out and see what signs the marauding abo's might haveleft. Sterl returned to camp.

All the men were up and Slyter was helping his wife getbreakfast. His eyes questioned Sterl in mute anxiety. But uponhearing Sterl's report he was far from mute. Dann, too, groundhis teeth.

"We could spare a bullock, but a good horse--"

"Boss," said Red, as he rode into camp, "I found where themabo's had killed an' butchered yore boss. Nary hide nor hair norhoof left! Must have been a hundred abo's in the outfit!"

For ten nights that band of aboriginals, reinforced at everycamp, hung on the tracks of the trekkers. Nothing was ever seenof them but their haunting smoke magic. The silence, the mystery,the inevitable attack on the horses in the gray dawn, woreincreasingly upon the drovers. The savages never killed a beef.The horrible fear they impressed upon the pursued was that whenthey tired of horseflesh they would try to obtain human flesh.For Slyter averred that they were cannibals. Friday, when anyonementioned this dire possibility, looked blank.

Now the trekkers approached the end of the downs. The riverhad diminished to a creek. Day by day the patches and fringes ofbush had encroached more upon the green, shining monotony. Vagueblue tracery of higher ground hung over the horizon. Thewaterfowl, except for cranes and egrets, had given way to avariable and colorful parrot life.

"Makes no difference if we do pass the happy huntin' ground ofthis breed of abo's," said Red, one night. "We'll only run intomore. This heah bunch has got me buffaloed. You cain't see them.A coupla more hosses butchered will put me on the warpath, bossor no boss! I figger that killin' some of them would stop theirdoggin' us. Thet used to be the case with the plainsredskins."

As the bush encroached more upon the downs, corroborees wereheld nightly by the aborigines. The wild revels and the weirdchantings murdered sleep for the trekkers. Always over themhovered the evil portent of what the cannibals had been known todo in the remote Australian wilderness.

One gray morning dawned with bad news for the Slyters.Leslie's thoroughbred, a gray roan stallion of great promise,which the girl called Lord Chester, was missing from the band.Red ran across the spot where he had been killed and butchered.Upon their return to camp, Leslie was waiting in distress.

"Les, we cain't find him," confessed Red. "An' I jest reckonhe's gone the way of so many of Dann's hosses." She broke downand wept bitterly.

"Say, cain't you take yore medicine?" queried Red, alwaysprone to hide his softer side under a cloak of bitterness orscorn. "This heah trek ain't no circus parade. What's anotherhoss, even if he is one of yore thoroughbreds?"

"Red Krehl!" she cried in passionate amaze at his apparentcallousness. "I've lost horses--But Chester!--It's too much--Iloved him--almost as I do--Jane."

"Shore you did. I felt thet way once over a hoss. It's tough.But don't be a baby."

"Baby? I'm no baby, Red Krehl! It's Dann and Dad--and you--allof you who've lost your nerve! If you and Sterl--and Larry andRol--if you had any man in you--you'd kill these abo's!"

The girl's passion, her rich voice stinging with scorn,appeared to lash the cowboy.

"By gosh, Leslie," he replied. "I shore deserved thet. Noexcuse for me, or any of us, onless we're jest plain worn to afrazzle."

"Red Krehl, what do you mean by that speech?" demandedBeryl.

"Never mind what I meant. Leslie hit me one below thebelt."

"That is no reason for you to concoct some blood reprisal ofrevenge. Leslie is a grand girl. She has proved that to me. Butshe's like you--a savage. She forgets."

"Yeah? Forgets what?" drawled the cowboy.

"That her loss was only a horse. If you and Sterl and Larryand Rollie should be killed or badly wounded--our trek isdoomed."

"Beryl," returned Red, "you're smarter than any of us. ButLeslie's ravin' is more sense that yore intelligence. It's a hardnut to crack..."

A hundred times that day Sterl saw Red turn in his saddle tolook for the smoke signals of the aboriginals rising above thebush horizon to the north. Toward noon of that day they vanished.But that night in camp, when Larry, Rollie and Benson were aboutto go on guard, Friday held up his hand. "Corroboree!" Theylistened. From the darkness wailed a chant as of lost souls.

"How far away, Friday?" asked Red, tersely.

"Close up."

"How many?"

"Plenty black fella. No gin. No lubra."

Red swept a blue-fire glance all around to see that he wouldnot be overheard by the women. "Fellers, it's a hunch. Grab yorerifles an' extra cartridges. We'll give these abo's a mess oflead."

Friday led the way beyond camp. As they neared the bush thechant swelled to a pitch indicating many voices. Soon, dark,dancing forms grotesquely crossed the firelight. Friday led azigzag way through the bush and brush.

They were halted by a stream or pond.

"About as far as we can get," whispered Red. "Let's take apeep. Careful now!"

Silently the five rose from behind the fringe of brush, topeer over the top. Sterl was surprised to see a wide stretch ofwater, mirroring three fires and fantastic figures of abo'sdancing in strange gyrations. The distance was about a hundredyards.

"Plenty black fella," whispered Friday, in tense excitement."Big corroboree! Full debbil along hoss meat! Bimeby bad!"

"I should snicker to snort," whispered Red. "Mebbe he meansthet horseflesh has gone stale. They want long-pig! Let's frameit thet way."

"It's a cinch they'll roast us next!" said Sterl.

"All right," whispered Red, tensely. "Make shore of yore firstshot. Then empty yore rifles pronto, reload, an' slope. PardSterl, forget yore Injun-lovin' weakness, an' shoot like youcould if one of us was in there roastin' on the coals."

They cocked and raised their rifles. Sterl drew down upon adense group of dark figures, huddled together, swaying inunison.

"One--two--three--shoot!" hissed Red.

The rifles cracked. Pandemonium broke loose. The abo's knockedagainst each other in their mad rush. And a merciless fire pouredinto them. When Sterl paused to reload he peered through thesmoke. Red was still shooting. From the circle of light, glidingblack forms vanished. But around the fires lay prone abo's andmany writhing, and shrieking.

"Slope--fellers," ordered Red, huskily, and then turned awayon the run. At length the cowboys halted from exhaustion.

"Reckon we're out of--reach of--them spears," he gasped. "Iain't used --to runnin'--Wal, did it work?"

"Work? It was a--massacre," declared Benson, in hoarse, brokenaccents.

"Let's rustle--for camp," added Red. "They'll all be--scaredstiff."

His premonition had ample vindication. When Red called out,they all appeared from under the wagon.

"What the hell?" boomed Dann, as he stalked out, rifle inhand.

"Were you attacked?" queried Slyter, sharply.

Beryl ran straight into Red, to throw her arms around him,then sink limply upon his breast. She was beyond thinking of whather actions betrayed.

"Boss," he said, "we went after them. It jest had to bedone."

"Well--what happened?" demanded the leader, his breathwhistling.

"We blasted hell out of them," declared Benson. "And it was agood thing."

"Hazelton, are you dumb?" queried Slyter, testily.

"Wholesale murder, boss," replied Sterl. "But justifiable.Friday intimated that we might be roasting next on theirspits."

"Oh, Red!" cried Beryl. "I thought you had--broken yourpromise--that you might be--"

"Umpumm, Beryl," returned Red, visibly moved, as he releasedhimself and steadied her on her feet. "We was shore crazy, buttook no chances. Beryl, you an' Leslie can feel shore thet bunchof abo's won't hound us again."

Red's prediction turned out to be true. There were no moreraids on the horses--no more smoke signals on the horizon. Butdays had to pass before the drovers believed in theirdeliverance.

They trekked off the down into mulga and spinifex country,covered with good grass, fairly well watered and dotted withdwarf gums and fig and pandanus trees. The ground was graduallyrising. They came next into a region of anthills. Many a field ofthese queer earthen habitations had they passed through. But thisone gave unparalleled and remarkable evidence of the fecundityand energy of the wood--and leaf-eating ants. Gray and yellow inthe sunlight, they were of every size, up to the height of threetall men. At night they shone ghostly in the starlight. Sterlfound that every dead log he cut into was only a shell--that theinterior had been eaten away. And from every dead branch or treepoured forth an army of ants, furious at the invasion of theirhomes.

At last Sterl understood the reason for Australia'smagnificent eucalyptus trees. In the ages past, nature haddeveloped the gum tree with its many variations, all secretingeucalyptus oil, as defensive a characteristic as the spines on acactus.

Then they camped on a range of low hills, with a water-coursewhich gave them an easy grade. Followed to its source, thatstream led to a divide. Water here ran toward the west. That wassuch a tremendous circumstance, so significant in its power tostir almost dead hopes, that Dann called a halt to rest, torecuperate, to make much needed repairs.

"It is that unknown country beyond outback Australia!"exclaimed Slyter.

Friday made a slow gesture which seemed symbolic of theinfinite. Indeed this abyss resembled the void of the sky. Theearly morning was hot, clear, windless. Beneath and beyond himrolled what seemed a thousand leagues of green-patched,white-striped slope, leading down, down to a nothingness thatseemed to flaunt a changeless inhospitality in the face of man.It was the other half of the world. It dreamed and brooded underthe hot sun. On and on forever it spread and sloped and wavedaway into infinitude.

"Never-never Land!" gasped Slyter.

"White fella go alonga dere nebber come back!" said Friday.

Turning away from that spectacle, the men returned down thehill. At camp Slyter reported simply and truthfully that the trekhad passed on to the border of the Never-never Land. No need torepeat the aborigine's warning.

"Good-o!" boomed Stanley Dann. "The Promised Land at last!Roll along, you trekkers!"

Midsummer caught Dann's trek out in the arid interior. Theyknew it was midsummer by the heat and drought, but in no otherways for Dann and Sterl had long since tired of recording labor,misery, fight and death.

They had followed a stream bed for weeks Here and there, milesapart, they found clear pools in rocky places. The bleached grasshad grown scant, but it was nutritious. If the cattle could drinkevery day or two they would survive. But many of the weak droppedby the wayside. Cows with newly born calves had been driven fromthe waterholes; and when the calves failed the mothers refused toleave them. Some mornings the trek would be held up because ofstrayed horses. Some were lost. Dann would not spare the time totrack them. The heat was growing intense.

The trek had become almost chaotic when the drovers reached azone where rock formations held a succession of pools of clearwater including one that amounted to a pond.

"Manna in the wilderness!" sang out Stanley Dann, joyfully."We will camp here until the rains come again!"

To the girls that meant survival. To the drovers it wasexceedingly joyous news. The water was a saving factor, just inthe nick of time. For everywhere were evidences of a longcessation of rain in these parts. In good seasons the stream musthave been a fair little river, and during flood time it hadspread all over the flat. Birds and animals had apparentlydeserted the locality. The grass was bleached white; plants hadbeen burned sere by the sun; trees appeared to be withering.

Dann said philosophically to Slyter: "We have water enough andmeat and salt enough to exist here for five years." That showedhis trend of thought. Sterl heard Slyter reply that the supply ofwater would not last half as long as that. "We'll have to build astrong brush roof over that pond, in case the dust storms begin,"he added.

The most welcome feature of this camp was the cessation ofhaste. For days and weeks and months the drovers had been workingbeyond their strength. Here they could make up for that. Thehorses and cattle, after a long dry trek, would not leave thissweet water. Very little guarding would they need.

Sterl and Red, helped by Friday, leisurely set about selectinga site, pitching their tent; making things comfortable for a longstay. Working at these tasks took up the whole first day.Everyone else had been busy likewise. At supper Sterl gazedaround to appreciate a homelike camp. But if, or when, it grewwindy in this open desert, he imagined, they would have more toendure than even the scorching heat of the camp al the forks.

Mrs. Slyter laid out the same old food and drink, but almostunrecognizable because of her skill in cooking and serving. Asfor Beryl and Leslie, Red summed it up: "Wal, doggone it, Ireckon a cowboy could stand a grubline forever with two suchpretty waitresses...Heah you air, girls, thin as bean poles an'burned brown as autumn leaves."

"We're not as thin as bean poles!" asserted Leslie. Thisepithet of Red's was not wholly true--yet how slim and frailBeryl was, and how slender the once sturdy Leslie!

The womenfolk, having served the supper, joined the drovers atthe table. After Larry and Rollie cleared away and washed thedishes. The drovers sat and smoked awhile, conversingdesultorily.

"No flies or mosquitoes here," said Dann.

"Flies will come bye and bye," replied Slyter.

"There'll be a good few calves dropped here."

"And colts foaled, too. But we have lost so many!"

"Boss, where do you figger we air?" asked Red.

"Somewhere out in the Never-never Land. Five hundred milesoutback, more or less."

"Dann, I'll catch up with my journal now," interposed Sterl."I can recall main events, but not dates."

"Small matter now. Keep on with your journal, if you choose.But I--I don't care to recall things. No one would ever believewe endured so much. And I would not want to discourage futuredrovers."

Red puffed a cloud of smoke to hide his face, while hedrawled: "Girls, you're gonna be old maids shore as shore can be,if we ever get out alive."

"You bet we are, Red Krehl, if help for such calamity everdepended on Yankee blighters we know," cried Leslie, withspirit.

Beryl's response was surprising and significant. "We are oldmaids now, Leslie dear," she murmured, dreamily. "I remember howI used to wonder about that. And to--to pine for a husband...Butit doesn't seem to matter now."

"But it would be well if we could!"

Stanley Dann said: "God gave us thoughts and vocal powers butwe use them, often, uselessly and foolishly. You young peopleexpress too many silly ideas...You girls are not going to be oldmaids, nor are you cowboys ever going to be old bachelors. We aregoing through."

"Shore we air, boss," flashed Red. "But if we all couldforget--an' face this hell like you--an' also be silly an' funnyonce in awhile, we'd go through a damn sight better!"

Dann slapped his knee with a great broad hand. "Righto! Ideserve the rebuke--I am too obsessed--too self-centered. But Ido appreciate what I owe you all. Relax, if you can. Forget! Playjokes. Have fun! Make love, God bless you!"

As Dann stamped away, Sterl remarked that there was gray inthe gold over his temples--that his frame was not so upright andmagnificent as it had once been. And that saddened Sterl. How allthe dead must haunt him!

The abrupt change from excessive labor, from sleeplessness andfear to rest, ease, and a sense of safety, reacted on all thetrekkers. They had one brief spell of exquisite tranquillitybefore the void shut down on them with its limitless horizonlines, its invisible confines, its heat by day, its appallingsolitude by night, its sense that this raw nature had to befought.

Nothing happened, however, that for the time being justifiedsuch fortification of soul and body. If the sun grewimperceptibly hotter, that could be gauged only by the touch ofbare flesh upon metal. The scarcity of living creatures of thewild grew to be an absolute barrenness, as far as the trekkersknew. A gum tree blossomed all scarlet one morning, and the girlsannounced that to be Christmas Day. Sterl and Red found the lastof the gifts they had brought on the trek. At supperpresentations followed. The result was not in Sterl's or Red'scalculations. From vociferous delight Beryl fell to hystericalweeping, which even Red could not assuage. And Leslie ate so muchof the stale candy that she grew ill.

One day Friday sighted smoke signals on the horizon. "Blackfella close up!" he said.

At once the camp was plunged into despair. Dann orderedfortifications thrown up on two sides. Then Friday called theleader's attention to a strange procession filing in from thedesert. Human beings that did not appear human! They came on,halted, edged closer and closer, halted again, paralyzed withfear yet driven by a stronger impulse. First came a score or lessof males, excessively thin, gaunt, black as ebony and practicallynaked. They all carried spears, but appeared the opposite offormidable. The gins were monstrosities. There were only a fewlubras, scarcely less hideous than the gins. A troop of nakedchildren hung back behind them, wild as wild beasts, ragged ofhead, pot-bellied.

Friday advanced to meet them. Sterl heard his voice, as wellas low replies. But sign language predominated in that briefconference. The black came running back.

"Black fella starbbin deff," he announced. "Plenty sit downdie. Tinkit good feedum."

"Oh, good indeed, Friday," boomed Dann, gladly. "Go tell themwhite men friends."

"By jove!" ejaculated Slyter. "Poor starved wretches! We havecrippled cattle that it will be just as well to slaughter."

Benson had butchered a steer that day, only a haunch had beenbrought to camp. The rest hung on a branch of a tree a little wayfrom camp down the river course. Head, entrails, hide and legsstill lay on the rocks, ready to be burned or buried. Danninstructed Friday to lead the aborigines to the meat. They gavethe camp a wide, fearful berth. Slyter brought a small bag ofsalt. Larry and Rollie built a line of fires. Sterl and Red, withthe girls, went close enough to see distinctly. The abo's watchedthe drovers with ravenous eyes. Larry pointed to a knife andcleaver on a log. All of them expected a corroboree. But thistribe of abo's had passed beyond ceremony. They did not, however,act like a pack of wolves. One tall black, possibly a leader,began to hack up the beef into pieces and pass them out. Theabo's sat down to devour the beef, raw. When presently the blacksattacked the entrails, Beryl and Leslie fled.

When darkness fell the little campfires flickered under thetrees, and dark forms crossed them, but there was no sound, nochant. Next day discovered the fact that the abo's had devouredthe entire carcass, and lay around under the trees asleep. Moreabo's arrived that morning as famished as the first ones.

Friday had some information to impart that night. Theseaborigines had for two years of drought been a vanishing race.The birds and beasts, the snakes and lizards, had all departedbeyond the hills to a lake where this weak tribe dared not gobecause they would be eaten by giant men of their own color.Friday said that the old abo's expected the rains to come after aseason of wind and dust storms.

The drovers took that last information with dismay, andappealed to their black man for some grain of hope.

"Blow dust like hellum bimeby!" he ejaculated, solemnly.

Days passed, growing uncomfortably hot during the noon hours,when the trekkers kept to their shelters.

The aborigines turned out to be good people. Day after day themen went out to hunt game, and the gins to dig weeds and roots.Dann supplied them with meat and the scraps from the camp table.Presently it became manifest they had recovered and werefaring well. The suspicion of the drovers that they might rewardgood deeds with evil thefts had so far been wholly unjustified.They never came into the encampment.

One night the sharp-eyed Leslie called attention to a dimcircle around the moon. Next morning the sun arose overcast, witha peculiar red haze.

A light wind, the very first at that camp which had been namedRock Pools by Leslie, sprang up to fan the hot faces of theanxious watchers, and presently came laden with fine invisibleparticles and a dry, pungent odor of dust.

CHAPTER 29

"Any of you folks ever been in a dust or sandstorm?" asked RedKrehl, at breakfast.

The general experience in that line had been negative, andinformation meager. "Bushwhackers have told me that dust stormsin the outback were uncomfortable," vouchsafed Slyter.

"Wal, I'd say they'd be hell on wheels. This heah country isopen, flat an' dry for a thousand miles."

"Are they frequent on your western ranges?" queried Dann.

From the cowboys there followed a long dissertation, withanecdotes, on the dust and sandstorms which, in season, were thebane of cattle drives in their own American Southwest.

"Boys, I've never heard that we had anything similar to yourstorms here in Australia," said Dann, when they had finished.

"Wal, boss, I'll bet you two-bits--one bob--you have wuss thanours," drawled Red.

"Very well. We are forewarned. By all means let us fortifyourselves. We have already roofed the rock pool. What else?"

Without more ado Sterl and Red put into execution a plan theyhad previously decided upon. They emptied their tent andrepitched it on the lee side of Slyter's big wagon. Then whilethey were covering the wheels as a windbreak, Beryl and Leslieapproached, very curious.

"Red, why this noble look on your sweaty brow?" askedBeryl.

"Don't be funny, Beryl Dann. This heah is one hell of asacrifice. Dig up all yore belongin's an' yore beds, an' put themin this tent."

"Why?" queried Beryl, incredulously.

"'Cause you're gonna bunk in heah an' stay in heah till thiscomin' dust storm is over."

"Yeah? Who says so?"

"I do. An', young woman, when I'm mad I'm quite capable ofusin' force."

"I'll just love that. But it's one of your bluffs."

Beryl stood before Red in her slim boy's garb, hands on herhips, her fair head to one side, her purple eyes full of defianceand something else, fascinating as it was unfathomable.

"I'll muss yore nice clothes all up," insisted Red. "But theygotta go in this tent an' so do you."

"Red Krehl, you are a tyrant. I'm trained to be meek andsubmissive, but I'm not your slave yet!"

"You bet you're not an' you never will be," said Red, hotinstead of cool. "You meek an' submissive?--My Gawd!"

"Red, I could be both," she returned, sweetly.

"Yeah? Wal, it jest wouldn't be natural. Beryl, listen heah."Red evidently had reacted to this situation with an inspiration."I'm doin' this for yore sake. Yore face, Beryl--thet lovely goldskin of yores, smooth as satin, an' jest lovely. A dry dust stormwill shrivel it up into wrinkles! You girls will have to stay inheah while the dust blows. All day long! At night it usuallyquiets down--at least where I come from...Please now, Beryl."

"All for my good looks!" murmured Beryl, with great, dubiouseyes upon him. "Red, I'm afraid I don't care so much about themas I used to."

"But I care," rejoined Red.

"Then I'll obey you," she said. "You are very sweet to me. AndI'm a cat!"

The cowboys helped the girls move their beds, blankets, andheavy pieces into the tent. For their own protection, they packedtheir belongings under the wagon, then folded and tied canvas allaround it, and weighted down the edges. They advised the droversto do likewise which advice was followed. Sterl, going to therock pool for water, saw that the abo's were erecting littlewindbreaks and shelters.

There seemed to be fine invisible fire embers in a wind thathad perceptibly strengthened. Transparent smoke appeared to berising up over the sun. A dry, acrid odor, a fragrance ofeucalyptus and a pungence of dust, seemed to stick in thenostrils.

"There she comes, pard, rollin' along," drawled the Texan,pointing northeast, over the low ground where the bleached streambed meandered.

At first, Sterl saw a rolling, tumbling, mushrooming cloud,rather white than gray in color, moving toward them over theland. With incredible speed it blotted out the sun, spread gloomover the earth, bore down in convolutions. Like smoke expelledwith tremendous force the front bellied and bulged and billowed,whirling upon itself and threw out great rounded masses of whitestreaked by yellow, like colossal roses.

They ran back to camp, aware of thick streams of dust racingahead of them. They wet two sheets and fastened one over the doorof the girls' tent.

"Air you in there, girls?" shouted Red.

"Yes, our lords and masters, we're here. What's thatroar?" replied Beryl.

"It's a storm, an' a humdinger. Don't forget when the dustseeps in bad to breathe through wet silk handkerchiefs. If youhaven't handkerchiefs use some of them folderol silk things ofBeryl's thet I seen once."

"Well! You hear that, Leslie? Red Krehl, I'll wager you haveseen a good deal that you shouldn't have."

"Shore, Beryl. Turrible bad for me, too. Adios now, for I haveno idee how long."

Sterl's last glimpse, as he crawled under the wagon, was thestriated, bulging front of the dust cloud, almost upon them.

"And now to wait it out," he said, with a sigh as he lay downon his bed. "We have a lot to be thankful for. Suppose we wereout in it?"

"Suppose thet mob rushes? There wouldn't be no sense in goin'out to stop them."

They settled down to endure. It was pretty hot inside. Afterawhile invisible dust penetrated the pores and cracks in thecanvas. Red had covered his face with a wet scarf, and Sterlfollowed suit. After sunset the wind lulled. The cowboys wentout. An opaque gloom cloaked the scene. The dust was settling.The drovers were astir; the Slyters getting supper.

By evening the air had cleared a good deal and cooled off.After supper, Sterl and Red went out with the drovers to look forthe horses and cattle. They had not strayed, but Dann orderedguard duty that night in three shifts. When they returned, Fridaysat by the fire with a meat bone in one hand and a piece ofdamper in the other.

"How long storm last?" asked Red.

"Old black fella say bery long."

"Friday, I wish the hell you'd be wrong once in awhile,"complained Red.

"Bimeby," said the black.

Sterl kept a smooth-barked piece of eucalyptus in his tent,and for every day that the dust blew and the heat grew moreintense he cut a notch. And then one day he forgot, and anotherhe did not care, and after that he thought it was no use to keeptrack of anything because everybody was going to besmothered.

Yet they still carried on. Just when one of the trekkers wasgoing to give up trying to breathe the wind would lull for anight. Every morsel they ate gritted on the teeth. The droversnightly circled the mob and horses; and butchered a bullock nowand then for themselves and the abo's. Fortunately their drinkingwater remained pure and cool, which was the one factor that keptthem from utter despair.

Leslie, being the youngest, and singularly resistant inspirit, stood the ordeal longest before beginning to go downhill.But Beryl seemed to be dying. On clear nights they carried herout of the tent, and laid her on a stretcher. At last only Redcould get her to eat. Sterl considered it marvelous that she hadnot passed away long ago. But how tenaciously she had clung tolove and life! Red had become silent, grim, in his grief overBeryl.

One night, after a scorching day that had been onlyintermittently windy, the air cleared enough to let a wanspectral moon shine down upon the camp. There was a difference inthe atmosphere which Sterl imagined to be only another lyingmirage of his brain. Friday pointed up at the strange moon withits almost indistinguishable ring, and said: "Bimeby!"

In the pale moonlight Beryl lay on her stretcher, a shadow ofher old self, her dark little face lighted by luminous lovelyeyes that must have seen into the infinite. She was conscious.Dann, in his indestructible faith, knelt beside her to pray. Redsat at her head while the others moved to and fro silently, likeghosts.

"Red--don't take it--so hard," whispered Beryl, almostinaudibly.

"Beryl--don't give up--don't fade away!" implored Red,huskily.

"Red--you'd never--marry me--because of..."

"No! But not because of thet...I'm not good enough to wipeyore feet!"

"You are as great--as my Dad."

Sterl led the weeping Leslie away. He could endure no morehimself. Red would keep vigil beside Beryl until she breathed herlast. He had no feeling left when he put the clinging Leslie fromhim and slunk back to his prison under the wagon, to crawl inlike an animal that hid in the thicket to die. And he fellasleep.

He awoke in the night. The moan of wind, the rustle of leaves,the swish of branches were strangely absent. The stillness, theblackness, were like death.

Then he heard a faint almost imperceptible pattering upon thecanvas. Oh! That lying trick of his fantasy! That phantom memoryof trail nights on the home ranges, when he lay snug under canvasto hear the patter of sleet, or snow, or rain! He had dreamed ofit, here in this accursed Never-never Land!

But he heard the jingle of spurs outside, and the soft pad ofFriday's bare feet.

"Pard!--Pard! Wake--up!"

That was Red's voice, broken, sobbing.

"I'm awake, old-timer," replied Sterl.

"It's rainin'--pard!--Beryl's gonna live!"

For nineteen days it rained--at first, steadily. Before halfthat time was over the dry stream bed was a little river runningswiftly. After the steadiest downpour had ceased, the rainscontinued part of every day and every night. On the morning ofthe twentieth day since the dust storm, the drovers arose togreet the sun again, and a gloriously changed land.

"On with the trek!" boomed Stanley Dann.

He gave the aborigines a bullock, and steel implements thatcould be spared. When the trek moved out of Rock Pools theseblack people, no longer scarecrows, lined up stolidly to watchthe white men pass out of their lives. But it was impossible notto believe them grateful.

The grass waved green and abundant, knee-high to a horse;flowers born of the rain bloomed everywhere; gum trees burst intoscarlet flame, and the wattles turned gold; kangaroos and emusappeared in troops upon the plain. Water lay in league-widelakes, with the luxuriant grass standing fresh and succulent outof it. Streams ran bankfull and clear, with flowers and flagsbending over the water.

The Never-never Land stretched out on all sides, boundlessly.It was level brushland, barren in dry seasons, rich now after therains. Eternal spring might have dwelt there.

CHAPTER 30

Only the black man Friday could tell how the trekkers everreached the oasis from the camp where Beryl came so near dying inthe dust storm and his limited vocabulary did not permit ofdetailed description.

"Many moons," repeated the black perplexedly. "Come alongadere." And he pointed east and drew a line on the ground, verylong, very irregular.

"No black fella, no kangaroo, no goanna. This fella country nogood. Plenty sun. Hot like hell. White fella tinkit he die. Bossan' Redhead fightum. Cattle no drink, fall down. Plenty hossesgo. White fella sit down. No water. Friday find water. One daytwo day along dis. Imm waterbag. Go back. Makeum come."

That was a long dissertation for the black. Sterl pieced ittogether and filled in the interstices. His mind seemed to be alabyrinthine maze of vague pictures and sensations made up of hotsun and arid wastes, of wheels rolling, rolling, rolling on, ofcamps all the same, of ghostly mirages, the infernal monotony ofdistances, and finally fading faces, fading voices, fadingimages, a horrible burning thirst and a mania for water.

He had come to his senses in a stream of clear, cool runningwater. Gray stone ledges towered to the blue sky. There weregreen grass, full-foliaged trees blossoming gold, and birds innoisy flocks. Once more the melodious cur-ra-wong of the magpiepealed in his dulled ears.

"God and our black man have delivered us once more. Let uspray instead of think what has passed," said Stanley Dann,through thick, split lips from which the blood ran. All seemedsaid in that.

As great a miracle as the lucky star that had guided thetrekkers here was their recovery through sweet fresh cool water.Even its music seemed healing. It gurgled and bubbled from underthe ledges to unite and form a goodly stream that sang awaythrough the trees to the west. That was the birth of a riverwhich ran toward the Indian Ocean. For Sterl, and surely all ofthem, it was the rebirth of hope, of life, of the sense ofbeauty. On the second morning Leslie staggered up to gaze about,thin as a wafer. She cried: "Oh, how lovely! Paradise Oasis!"

Beryl could not walk unaided, but she shared Leslie's joy. Howfrail a body now housed this chastened soul! Hammocks were strungfor them in the shade, and they lay back on pillows,wide-eyed.

Wild berries and fruit, fresh meat and fish, bread from thelast sack of flour, added their wholesome nourishment to themagic of the sweet crystal water.

"Let me stay here forever," pleaded Beryl. And Leslie added:"Oh, Sterl, let us never leave!"

One morning Friday sought out Sterl. "Boss, come alongame."

"What see, Friday?" queried Sterl.

The black tapped his broad breast with his virile hand. "Blackfella tinkit see Kimberleys!"

"My--God!" gasped Sterl, suddenly pierced through withvibrating thrills. "Take me!"

They scaled a gray escarpment. Far across a warm and colorfulplain an upflung range rolled and billowed along the westernhorizon.

Turning toward camp and looking down, Sterl cupped his handsand loosed a stentorian yell that pealed in echo from hill tohill. He waved his sombrero. The girls waved something white inreturn. Then Sterl ran down the hill, distancing the barefootedblack.

Leslie ran to meet him, her heart in her eyes. But Sterl savedhis speech for that gaunt, golden-bearded leader. The moment wasso great that he heard his voice as a whisper.

"Sir--I report--I sighted--the Kimberleys!"

Ten days down the stream from that unforgettable ParadiseOasis the trek came out of a brushland into more open plainswhere rocks and trees and washes were remarkable for theirscarcity. The trekkers had been reduced to a ration of meat andsalt with one cup of tea, and one of stewed fruit each day. Theythrove and gathered strength upon it, but Sterl felt certain thatthe reaction came as much from the looming purple range,beckoning them on. Twenty-two hundred strong, the mob hadimproved since they struck good water, and every day calves wereborn, as well as colts. No smoke signals on the horizon!

One day Sterl rested a lame foot by leaving his saddle forSlyter's driver seat. Slyter's good wife lay alseep back underthe canvas, her worn face betraying the trouble that her will andspirit had hidden while she was awake. Sterl talked to Slyterabout the Kimberleys, the finding of suitable stations, thesettling, all of which led up to what was in his mind--thefuture.

"Slyter, would it interest you to learn something about me?"asked Sterl.

"Indeed it would, if you wish to tell," returned thedrover.

"Thanks boss. It's only that I'd feel freer--and happier ifyou knew," rejoined Sterl, and told Slyter why he and Red hadcome to Australia.

"And we'll never go back," he concluded.

"After this awful trek, you can't still like Australia!"

"I'm mad about it, Slyter!"

"You tell me your story because of Leslie?"

"Yes, mostly. But if there had been no Leslie, probably I'dhave told you anyhow."

"She loves you."

"Yes. And I love her, too. Only I have never told herthat--nor the story you've just heard."

"Sterl, I could ask little more of the future than to give mydaughter to such a man as you, or Krehl. We have been through thefire together...As for you, young man, Australia will take you toits heart, and the past will be as if it had never been."

"I'm happy and fortunate to be able to cast my lot withyou!"

"Righto! And here comes sharp-eyed Leslie. Sterl, I think I'llget off and straddle a horse for awhile. You drive and talk toLeslie."

Almost before the heavy-footed drover was on the ground,Leslie was out of her saddle to throw him her bridle reins.

"How jolly!" she cried in gay voice, as she leaped to a seatbeside Sterl. "Months, isn't it, Sterl, since I rode beside youlike this?"

"Years, I think."

"Oh, that long agony!--But I'm forgetting it. Sterl, whatwere you talking to Dad about? Both of you so serious!"

"I was telling him what made me an outcast--drove me toAustralia."

"Outcast? Oh, Sterl! I always wondered. Red, too, was sostrange. But I don't care what you've ever been in the past. It'swhat you are that--that made me..."

When she choked up, Sterl repeated the story of his life andits fatality.

"How terrible! Sterl, was--was Nan very pretty? Did you loveher very much?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Love is a terrible thing!"

"Les, that gives me an idee, as Red says. Let's get the bestof this old terrible love."

"Sterl, it can't be done. I know."

"Les, it can. Listen. You get hold of Red the very firstchance--tonight in camp. Tell him that Beryl is dying of love ofhim--that she dreams of him--babbles in her sleep--that she can'tlive without him...And anything more you can make up!"

"Sterl Hazelton, I wouldn't have to lie. That is allabsolutely true," returned Leslie.

"You don't say? That bad? Then all the better. Leslie, I'lltell Beryl what a state Red is in over her."

"Is it true? Does Red care that much?" queried Leslie.

"Yes. I don't think it's possible to exaggerate Red's love forthat girl. But he feels he is a no-good cowboy, as he callsit."

"You bet I'll help!" she flashed. "But--but who is goingto--to tell you--about me?"

"Oh, that? Well, darling, if you think it's necessary you cantell me yourself."

She fell against him, quivering, her eyelids closed. Hewrapped his arm round her and drew her close. At this junctureMrs. Slyter's voice came to them wildly.

"I've been listening to some very interestingconversation."

"Oh--Mum!" faltered Leslie, aghast, starting up.

But Sterl held her all the closer. Presently he said: "Well,then--Mum-- we have your blessing, or you would have interruptedlong ago."

Sterl had contrived to get Red and the girls for a walk alongthe stream, and there at a murmuring waterfall, he led Beryl awayfrom their companions.

"I'm terribly fond of you, Beryl."

"I am of you, too, Sterl. But you--and Red will be leaving usto become wanderers again--seeking adventure. I wish I were aman."

"Who told you we'd be doing that?"

"Red."

They paused beside a rock, upon which Sterl lifted Beryl to aseat, and he leaned against it to face her.

"So that geezer has been hurting you again? Dog-gone him!Beryl, I'm going to double-cross him, give him away."

"You mean betray him?--Don't Sterl!"

"Ummpumm. We're not--leaving," he said. "I wouldn't leaveLeslie and..."

"Oh, Sterl! Then--then--"

"Yes, then! And Red would never leave me. For why?"

Here Sterl related for the third time that day the story ofhis exile.

"How very wonderful of Red! Sterl, this Aussie lass will makeup for all you've lost."

"Beryl, I'd be happier than I ever was if you and Red..."

"If only he could see!" she interrupted, passionately. "Ifonly he could forgive and forget Ormiston--whatI--what--he..."

Sterl grasped her slim shoulders and drew her down until herface was close.

"Hush! Don't say that--don't ever think of that again!" hesaid, sternly. "That is absolutely the only obstacle between you.The jealous fool in his bad hours thinks you regret...I won't sayit, Beryl Dann. And for Red's sake and yours and ours, Les's andmine, forget. Forget! Because Red Krehl worships you. Don'tgrieve another single hour. Don't believe in his indifference.Break down his armor. Oh, child, a woman can, you know. Why--whyBeryl..."

She slid off the rock into his arms, blind, weeping, tornasunder, her slender hands clutching him. "No--more," she sobbed."You break--my heart--with joy. I--I had--despaired. Twice Ihave--nearly died. I knew--the next time...But this--this willsave me."

Day after day the purple range loomed closer. The scouts sawat last that the stream they had followed for so long waspresently going to join a river. That green and gold linedisappeared round the northern end of the range. And the next daythe leader of the drovers, for once actuated by haste, made forthe junction. Blue smoke rose about the big trees. It must comefrom aboriginals, but it was not hostile.

"Boss, I ben tinkit no black fella," said Friday to Sterl.Sterl rode ahead to tell Dann.

"Aye, my boy, I guessed that," he cried. "We have fought thegood fight. With His guidance! Look around you, Sterl--richest,finest land I ever saw! Ha! A road--a ford!" and Dann pointed. Hehad indeed come to a road that sloped down under the giant treesto the shallow stream. His followers all saw, but none couldbelieve his eyes.

Three white men came out into the open, halting to stare. Theypointed. They gesticulated. They saw Dann's wagons, the women onthe drivers' seats, the mounted drovers, the big band of horses,the great mob and ran to meet the trekkers. Dann halted his fourhorses, and Slyter stopped beside him. The mounted drovers linedup, a lean ragged crew, with Leslie conspicuous among them,unmistakably a girl, bronzed and beautiful.

"Good day, cobbers!" called Dann.

"Who may you be?" replied one of the three, a stalwart manwith clean-shaven, rugged face and keen, intelligent eyes.

"Are those mountains the Kimberleys?" asked Dann,intensely.

"Yes. The eastern Kimberleys. Drover, you can't be StanleyDann?"

"It really seems I can't be. But I am!" declared Dann.

"Great Scott! Dann was lost two years and more ago, accordingto reports at Darwin. It has taken you two years and five monthsto get here!"

"But death visited and dogged our trek, alas!" said Dann. "Wetrekked almost to the Gulf and then across the Never-never Land.And we lost several drovers, five thousand head of cattle, and ahundred horses on the way."

"My word! What great news for western Australia! I see youhave a mob of cattle left. I'm glad to be the first to tell yougood news."

"Good news?" boomed Dann, in echo.

"Well, rather. Dann, cattle are worth unheard-of prices.Horses the same. Reason is that gold has been discovered in theKimberleys!"

"GOLD!"

"Yes, gold! There's been a rush-in for months. Mines south ofhere. Trekkers coming in from Perth and Fremantle. Settlers byship to Darwin and Wyndham. I have been freighting supplies in tothe gold fields. My name is Horton."

"Do you hear, all?" boomed Dann. "The beginning of the empireI envisioned."

"We all hear, Stanley, and our hearts are full," repliedSlyter.

"What river is this?" queried Dann, shaking off hisbedazzlement, to point to the shining water through thetrees.

"That is the Ord. You have come down the Elivre," repliedHorton. "Dennison Plains are in sight to the south. The finestcountry, the finest grazing for stock in the world!"

"Aye, friend. It looks so. But this road? Where does it leadand how far?"

"Follows the Ord to the seaport. Wyndham, a good few milesless than two hundred. You are in the nick of time, Dann. Thegovernment will sell this land to you so cheap it isunbelievable!"

"Ha! This land?" called Dann, his voice rolling, "Dann'sStation! This will be our range!"

"Stanley, we must send at once for supplies," said Slyter,rousing.

"Horton, do we look like starving trekkers?"

"Indeed you do. I never saw such a peak-faced, ragamuffin lotof drovers. Or ladies so charming despite all!"

"They have lived for days now wholly on meat."

"Forgive me, Dann, for not thinking of that! Sam, run and boilthe billy. Dann, I can let you have tea, fruit, sugar, tinnedmilk..."

"Enough, man! Do not overwhelm us! Slyter, what shall we donext--that is, after that cup of tea?"

"Stanley, we should thank heaven, pitch camp, and plan to sendboth wagons to Wyndham for supplies."

"Wal, air you gonna ask us to get down an' come in?" drawledRed. "I reckon I can stand tea."

"American!" called out Horton, with twinkling eyes.

"Savvied again. The name is Krehl. An' heah's my pard,Hazelton."

After supper, Beryl and Leslie went into conference over theinnumerable things they wanted bought. Sterl and Red sat beside abox and racked their brains to think of necessities to purchasefrom town.

"Strange, Red, just think!" ejaculated Sterl. "We don't reallyneed anything. We have lost the sense of need."

"Yeah! How about toothbrushes, powder, soap, towels, iodine,glycerine, combs, shears to cut hair--an' socks?"

"On account of the girls we must get over all these savagehabits, I suppose...Have you made up your mind about Beryl?"Sterl asked, averting his eyes.

"Pard, she cares more about me than I deserve--than I ever hada girl care for me before. An' lately, I don't know how longlong. She's been different. All that misery gone! She's forgotOrmiston an' every damn bit of thet--thet...An's she's beenhappy. Jest the sweetest, softest, lovingest, most unselfishcreature under the sun! An' I'd be loco if I didn't see it'sbecause of me--that she takes it for granted..."

"I should think you'd be the happiest man in the world,"declared Sterl, feelingly. "I am."

"I reckon I'd be too, if I'd jest give up."

"Red! Then right this minute--do it!"

"Holy Mackeli! Don't knock me down. All right, old pard, Iknuckle. I show yellow! But there's a queer twist in my mind. Shealways got the best of me. If I could jest think up one more wayto get the best of her before, or mebbe better when I tell herhow I want her--then I'd match you for who's the luckiest an'happiest man." He changed the subject abruptly. "Have you lookedover this range? Grandest I ever seen! Wal, think! I've got moremoney in my kick than I ever earned in my life. An' you had asmall fortune when I see yore belt last."

"I have it all, packed in my bag."

"Good! Wal, bright prospect, huh?"

By the eighth day, on which Benson and Roland were expected toreturn with the wagons and supplies, Sterl and Red had progressedwell with their cabin building. The site was the Ord River sideof the wooded point, high up on a grassy, flower-spangled bank,shaded by great trees from the morning sun, and facing theKimberleys.

The cabin was to have thatched roof and walls, for whichFriday scouted out a wide-leaved palm, perhaps a species ofpandanus. Slyter designed the framework, which consisted of longround poles carefully fitted. Larry, who was a good carpenter,often lent a helping hand. The girls, enthusiastic over itsbeauty, visited the site several times a day. Red, who was nowunusually mild and sweet, made one characteristic remark.

"Say, anybody would think you girls expected to live over heahwith us fellers!"

That sally precipitated blushes, a rout, and from a littledistance, very audible giggles.

"Red, that was a dig," remonstrated Sterl. "You are a meancuss. If you would only take a tumble to yourself the girls couldcome over here to live."

"Hell! I've shore tumbled. What do you want for two-bits?Canary birds? An' why don't you figger out thet trick for me toplay on Beryl? I cain't last much longer. Why, when she comesnear me I go plumb loco."

"Whoopee! That's talking! I've got the deal planned!"

"Yeah?"

"It's clever. Even Dann thought so. He agreed. And he wastickled!"

"You double-crossin' two-faced Arizonie geezer!" ejaculatedRed. "You told Dann before you told me?"

"Sure. I had to get his consent. Listen, pard..."

Excited cries broke in upon their colloquy. The girls appearedoff at the edge of the grove. Leslie cupped her hands to her lipsand shrieked: "Boys, wagon's back! Come!"

They raced like boys, to draw up abreast and panting beforetwo bulging, canvas-covered wagons, and their excitedcomrades.

"Mr. Dann," Benson was saying. "Ten days going and coming.Fair to middling road. One wagon loaded with food supplies, milk,sugar, vegetables, fruit, everything. Other full of personalarticles... Four freight wagons following us with lumber,galvanized roofing, tools, utensils, hardware, harness,mattresses, staples--the biggest order ever filled inWyndham!"

While the big wagons were being unpacked, while the cowboyswhooped and the girls squealed, a steady, voluminous stream ofquestions poured into the bewildered ears of Benson and Roland,who had been to town, to a seaport, who had heard news of theworld, and of the old home.

Gold had indeed been discovered in the south and west of theKimberleys. Ships and prospectors, sheepmen and drovers, trekkersand adventurers were coming north from Perth and Fremantle andpoints far to the south. Ships plied regularly to Darwin. StanleyDann's trek across the Never-never Land was the wonder of twobusy seaports.

There were letters for all the company except Sterl and Red.Somehow that silenced the drawling Red and struck a pang toSterl's heart. Stanley Dann read aloud in his booming voice acommunication from Heald. He had got out safely with his comradesand the mob of cattle Dann had given them. They worked out towardthe coast into fine grazing country where he and his partnersestablished a station. Ormiston's three escaping bushrangers hadbeen murdered by aborigines. A rumor that Dann's trekkers hadperished on the Never-never had preceded Heald's return toQueensland. But he never credited it and chanced a letter. Thegovernment had offered to sell hundred-mile-square tracts of landin the outback for what seemed little money.

"Gosh! A hundred-mile-square ranch!" drawled Red. "I reckon Igotta buy myself a couple of them."

They settled themselves in the pleasant shade. Mrs. Slyter andLeslie served tea. Beryl sat pensive and abstracted. On thatauspicious morning, when all had been gay, Red had not deigned togive her even a smile. What a capital actor Dann was! To all saveSterl and Red he appeared only the great leader, glad andbeaming.

Presently Dann produced a little black book, worn of back andyellow of leaf. He opened it meditatively.

"Beryl, will you please come here," he said, casually. "Inthis new and unsettled country I think I may be useful in otherways besides being a cattleman. I shall need practice to acquirea seemly dignity, and a clarity of voice."

He continued to mull over the yellow pages. Sterl saw the bigfingers quiver ever so slightly. Beryl, used to her father'smoods, came obediently to stand before him.

"What, Dad?" she inquired, curiously.

"Sterl, come here and stand up with Beryl," he called. "No,let Krehl come. He might be more fitting."

Red strolled forward, his spurs jingling, his demeanour ascool and nonchalant as it ever had been.

"I've observed you holding my daughter's hand a good few timeson this trek," Dann said, mildly. "Please take her hand now."

As Red reached for Beryl's hand she looked up at him with awondering smile and her color deepened. Then Dann stood up tolift his head and expose his bronze-gold face, which appeared aprofound mask, except for the golden lightning in his ambereyes.

"What's the idea, boss?" drawled Red.

"Yes, Dad, what is--all this?" faltered Beryl, confused.

"Listen, child and you Krehl," replied Dann. "This should befun for you, and surely for the others. Please watch me.Criticize my ministerial manner and voice. Trekking does notimprove even the civilized and necessary graces. Well, here weare..."

And in a swift resonant voice he ran over the opening passagesof the marriage service. Then, more slowly and impressively, headdressed Red.

"James Krehl, do you take this woman to be your lawful weddedwife... to have and to hold...to love and to cherish...untildeath do you part?"

"I do!" replied Red, ringingly.

The leader turned to his daughter. "Beryl Dann, do you takethis man to your lawful wedded husband...to have and to hold...tolove, cherish and obey until death do you part?"

"I--I--I do!" gasped Beryl, faintly.

Dann added sonorously: "I pronounce you man and wife. Whom Godhas joined together let no man put asunder!"

Beryl stared up at him, visibly a prey to conflicting tides ofemotions. It had been a play, of course, but the mere recital ofthe vows, the counterfeit solemnity, had torn her serenityasunder. When her father embraced her, thick-voiced and loving,she appeared further bewildered.

"Daddy, what a--a strange thing--for you to practice that--onme!"

"Beryl, it is the most beautiful thing of the ages...Krehl, Icongratulate you with all my heart. I feel that she is safe atlast."

Sterl dragged the astounded and backward Leslie up to thecouple. "Red, old pard, put it there!" he cried, wringing Red'sfree hand. "Beryl, let me be the first to kiss the bride!" Lesliecould only stare, her lips wide.

"But--but it was only a play!" flashed Beryl. Then Red kissedher lips with a passion of tenderness and violencecommingled.

"Wal, wife, it was about time," drawled Red.

That word unstrung Beryl. "Wife?" she echoed, almostinaudibly. "Red! You--you married me--really? Father! Have I beenmade a--fool of?" cried Beryl, tragically.

"My daughter, compose yourself," returned Dann. "We thought tohave a little fun at your expense. I am still an ordainedclergyman. But you are Mrs. Krehl! I'll have marriagecertificates somewhere in my luggage!"

She swayed back to Red. She could not stand without support.She lifted frail brown hands that could not cling to Red'ssleeves.

"Red!--You never asked me!"

"Wal, honey, the fact was I didn't have the nerve. So Sterlan' I went to yore Dad an' fixed it up. Beryl, he's one grandguy." He snatched the swaying girl to his breast. Her eyelids hadfallen.

"Beryl!" he shouted, in fear and remorse. "Don't you darefaint! Not heah an' now of all times in our lives! I did it thetway because I've always been dyin' of love for you. Sincethet--thet orful time I've been shore you cared for me, but Inever risked you outwittin' me. I swore I'd fool you once an' goon my knees to you the rest of my life!"

Suddenly she was shot through and through with revivifiedlife. She did not see any others there. And when she lifted herlips to Red's, it was something--the look of both of themthen--that dimmed Sterl's eyes.

"Come, Sterl and Leslie," boomed Dann. "I require morepractice. Here, before me, and join hands. Our bride and groomthere may stand as witnesses." And almost before Sterl wassensible of anything except the shy and bedazzled girl besidehim, clutching his hand, he was married!

Friday wrung Sterl's hand. No intelligence could haveexaggerated what shone in his eyes.

"Me stotum alonga you an' missy. Me be good black fella. Nohome, no fadder, no mudder, no brudder, no lubra. Imm stay alongayou, boss."

Sterl and Red walked by the river alone.

"Pard, it's done," said Red. "We're Australians. Who wouldever have thunk it? But it's great. All this for two no-goodgunslingin' cowboys!"

"Red, it is almost too wonderful to be true!"

It was as Stanley Dann had said of them all: "We have foughtthe good fight." In that moment Sterl saw with marvelous clarity.It had taken a far country and an incomparable adventure withhardy souls to make men out of two wild cowboys.

THE END

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