Hawker the elder, as I said, casting one glance at the body of his son, whom he knew not, and another at Captain Desborough, who was just rising from the ground after his fall, set spurs to his noble chestnut1 horse, and, pushing through the contracted barriers of slate2 which closed up the southern end of the amphitheatre where they had been surprised, made for the broader and rapidly rising valley which stretched beyond.
He soon reached the rocky gate, where the vast ridge3 of schist, alternating with the limestone4, and running north and south in high serrated ridges5, was cut through by a deep fissure6, formed by the never idle waters of a little creek7, that in the course of ages had mined away the softer portions of the slate, and made a practicable pass toward the mountains.
He picked his way with difficulty through the tumbled boulders8 that lay in the chasm9; and then there was a cool brisk wind on his forehead, and a glare in his eyes. The chill breath of the west wind from the mountain — the glare of the snow that filled up the upper end of the valley, rising in level ridges towards the sky-line.
He had been this path before; and if he had gone it a hundred times again, he would only have cursed it for a rough, desperate road, the only hope of a desperate man. Not for him to notice the thousand lessons that the Lord had spread before him in the wilderness10! Not for him to notice how the vegetation changed when the limestone was passed, and the white quartz11 reefs began to seam the slaty12 sides of the valley like rivers of silver! Not for him to see how, as he went up and on, the hardy13 Dicksoniae, still nestled in stunted14 tufts among the more sheltered side gullies, long after her tenderer sister, the queenly Alsophylla had been left behind. He only knew that he was a hunted wild beast, and that his lair15 was beyond the snow.
The creek flashed pleasantly among the broken slate, full and turbid16 under the mid-day sun. After midnight, when its fountains are sealed again by the frosty breath of night, that creek will be reduced to a trickling17 rill. His horse’s feet brushed through the delicate asplenium, the Venus’-hair of Australia; the sarsaparilla still hung in scant18 purple tufts on the golden wattle, and the scarlet19 correa lurked20 among the broken quartz.
Upwards21 and onwards. In front, endless cycles agone, a lava22 stream from some crater23 we know not had burst over the slate, with fearful clang and fierce explosion, forming a broad roadway of broken basalt up to a plateau twelve hundred feet or more above us, and not so steep but that a horse might be led up it. Let us go up with him, not cursing heaven and earth, as he did, but noticing how, as we ascend24, the scarlet wreaths of the Kennedia and the crimson25 Grevillea give place to the golden Grevillea and the red Epacris; then comes the white Epacris, and then the grass trees, getting smaller and scantier26 as we go, till the little blue Gentian, blossoming boldly among the slippery crags, tells us that we have nearly reached the limits of vegetation.
He turned when he reached this spot, and looked around him. To the west a broad rolling down of snow, rising gradually; to the east, a noble prospect27 of forest and plain, hill and gully, with old Snowy winding28 on in broad bright curves towards the sea. He looked over all the beauty and undeveloped wealth of Gipp’s Land, which shall yet, please God, in fulness of time, be one of the brightest jewels in the King of England’s crown, but with eyes that saw not. He turned towards the snow, and mounting his horse, which he had led up the cliff, held steadily29 westward30.
His plans were well laid. Across the mountain, north of Lake Omeo, not far from the mighty31 cleft32 in which the infant Murray spends his youth, were two huts, erected33 years before by some settler, and abandoned. They had been used by a gang of bushrangers, who had been attacked by the police, and dispersed34. Nevertheless, they had been since inhabited by the men we know of, who landed in the boat from Van Diemen’s Land, in consequence of Hawker himself having found a pass through the ranges, open for nine months in the year. So that, when the police were searching Gipp’s Land for these men, they, with the exception of two or three, were snugly35 ensconced on the other water-shed, waiting till the storm should blow over. In these huts Hawker intended to lie by for a short time, living on such provisions as were left, until he could make his way northward36, on the outskirts37 of the settlements, and escape.
There was no pursuit, he thought: how could there be? Who knew of this route but himself and his mates? hardly likely any of them would betray him. No creature was moving in the valley he had just ascended38; but the sun was beginning to slope towards the west, and he must onwards.
Onwards, across the slippery snow. At first a few tree-stems, blighted39 and withered40, were visible right and left, proving that at some time during their existence, these bald downs had either a less elevation41 or a warmer climate than now. Then these even disappeared, and all around was one white blinding glare. To the right, the snow-fields rolled up into the shapeless lofty mass called Mount Tambo, behind which the hill they now call Kosciusko — as some say, the highest ground in the country — began to take a crimson tint42 from the declining sun. Far to the south, black and gaunt among the whitened hills, towered the rounded hump of Buffaloe, while the peaks of Buller and Aberdeen showed like dim blue clouds on the furthest horizon.
Snow, and nothing but snow. Sometimes plunging43 shoulder deep into some treacherous44 hollow, sometimes guiding the tired horse across the surface frozen over unknown depths. He had been drinking hard for some days, and, now the excitement of action had gone off, was fearfully nervous. The snow-glint had dizzied his head, too, and he began to see strange shapes forming themselves in the shade of each hollow, and start at each stumble of his horse.
A swift-flying shadow upon the snow, and a rush of wings overhead. An eagle. The lordly scavenger46 is following him, impatient for him to drop and become a prey47. Soar up, old bird, and bide48 thy time; on yonder precipice49 thou shalt have good chance of a meal.
Twilight50, and then night, and yet the snow but half past. There is a rock in a hollow, where grow a few scanty51 tufts of grass which the poor horse may eat. Here he will camp, fireless, foodless, and walk up and down the livelong night, for sleep might be death. Though he is not in thoroughly52 Alpine53 regions, yet still, at this time of the year, the snow is deep and the frost is keen. It were as well to keep awake.
As he paced up and down beneath the sheltering rock, when night had closed in, and the frosty stars were twinkling in the cold blue firmament54, strange ghosts and fancies came crowding on him thick and fast. Down the long vista55 of a misspent, ruined life, he saw people long since forgotten trooping up towards him. His father tottered56 sternly on, as with a fixed57 purpose before him; his gipsy-mother, Madge, strode forward pitiless; and poor ruined Ellen, holding her child to her heart, joined the others, and held up her withered hand as if in mockery. But then there came a face between him and all the other figures which his distempered brain had summoned, and blotted58 them out; the face of a young man, bearing a strange likeness59 to himself; the face of the last human creature he had seen; the face of the boy that he had shot down among the fern.
Why should this face grow before him wherever he turned, so that he could not look on rock or sky without seeing it? Why should it glare at him through a blood-red haze60 when he shut his eyes to keep it out, not in sorrow, not in anger, but even as he had seen it last, expressing only terror and pain, as the lad rolled off his horse, and lay a black heap among the flowers? Up and away! anything is better than this. Let us stumble away across the snow, through the mirk night once more, rather than be driven mad by this pale boy’s face.
Morning, and the pale ghosts have departed. Long shadows of horse and man are thrown before him now, as the slope dips away to the westward, and he knows that his journey is well-nigh over.
It was late, afternoon, before, having left the snow some hours, he began to lead his horse down a wooded precipice, through vegetation which grew more luxuriant every yard he descended61. The glen, whose bottom he was trying to reach, was a black profound gulf62, with perpendicular63, or rather over-hanging walls, on every side, save where he was scrambling64 down. Here indeed it was possible for a horse to keep his footing among the belts of trees, that, alternating with precipitous granite65 cliff, formed the upper end of one of the most tremendous glens in the world — the Gates of the Murray.
He was barely one-third of the way down this mountain wall, when the poor tired horse lost his footing and fell over the edge, touching66 neither tree nor stone for five hundred feet, while George Hawker was left terrified, hardly daring to peer into the dim abyss, where the poor beast was gone.
But it was little matter. The hut he was making for was barely four miles off now, and there was meat, drink, and safety. Perhaps there might be company, he hoped there might — some of the gang might have escaped. A dog would be some sort of friend, anything sooner than such another night as last night.
His pistols were gone with the saddle, and he was unarmed. He reached the base of the cliff in safety, and forced his way through the tangled67 scrub that fringed the infant river, towards the lower end of the pass. Here the granite walls, overhanging, bend forward above to meet one another, almost forming an arch, the height of which, from the river-bed, is computed68 to be nearly, if not quite, three thousand feet. Through this awful gate he forced his way, overawed and utterly69 dispirited, and reached the gully where his refuge lay, just as the sun was setting.
There was a slight track, partly formed by stray cattle which led up it, and casting his eyes upon this, he saw the marks of a horse’s feet. “Some one of the gang got home before me,” he said. “I’m right glad of that, anything better than such another night.”
He turned a sharp angle in the path, just where it ran round an abrupt70 cliff. He saw a horseman within ten yards of him with his face towards him. Captain Desborough, holding a pistol at his head.
“Surrender, George Hawker!” said Desborough. “Or, by the living Lord! you are a dead man.”
Hungry, cold, desperate, unarmed; he saw that he was undone71, and that hope was dead. The Captain had an easier prey than he had anticipated. Hawker threw up his arms, and ere he could fully45 appreciate his situation, he was chained fast to Desborough’s saddle, only to be loosed, he knew, by the gallows72.
Without a word on either side they began their terrible journey. Desborough riding, and Hawker manacled by his right wrist to the saddle. Fully a mile was passed before the latter asked, sullenly73 —
“Where are you going to take me to-night?”
“To Dickenson’s,” replied Desborough. “You must step out you know. It will be for your own good, for I must get there to-night.”
Two or three miles further were got over, when Hawker said abruptly74 —
“Look here, Captain, I want to talk to you.”
“You had better not,” said Desborough. “I don’t want to have any communication with you, and every word you say will go against you.”
“Bah!” said Hawker. “I must swing. I know that. I shan’t make any defence. Why, the devils out of hell would come into court against me if I did. But I want to ask you a question or two. You haven’t got the character of being a brutal75 fellow, like O——. It can’t hurt you to answer me one or two things, and ease my mind a bit.”
“God help you, unhappy man;” said Desborough. “I will answer any questions you ask.”
“Well, then, see here,” said Hawker, hesitating. “I want to know — I want to know first, how you got round before me?”
“Is that all?” said Desborough. “Well, I came round over Broad-saddle, and got a fresh horse at the Parson’s.”
“Ah!” said Hawker. “That young fellow I shot down when you were after me, is he dead?”
“By this time,” said Desborough. “He was just dying when I came away.”
“Would you mind stopping for a moment, Captain? Now tell me, who was he?”
“Mr. Charles Hawker, son of Mrs. Hawker, of Toonarbin.”
He gave such a yell that Desborough shrunk from him appalled76 — a cry as of a wounded tiger — and struggled so wildly with his handcuffs that the blood poured from his wrists. Let us close this scene. Desborough told me afterwards that that wild, fierce, despairing cry, rang in his ears for many years afterwards, and would never be forgotten till those ears were closed with the dust of the grave.
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1
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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2
slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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3
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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limestone
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| n.石灰石 | |
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ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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fissure
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| n.裂缝；裂伤 | |
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7
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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8
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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chasm
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| n.深坑，断层，裂口，大分岐，利害冲突 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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quartz
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| n.石英 | |
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12
slaty
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| 石板一样的，石板色的 | |
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13
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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14
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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15
lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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16
turbid
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| adj.混浊的，泥水的，浓的 | |
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17
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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18
scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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19
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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21
upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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lava
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| n.熔岩，火山岩 | |
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crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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24
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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25
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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scantier
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| adj.（大小或数量）不足的，勉强够的( scanty的比较级 ) | |
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27
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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28
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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29
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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cleft
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| n.裂缝；adj.裂开的 | |
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33
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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34
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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38
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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40
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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41
elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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42
tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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43
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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44
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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45
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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46
scavenger
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| n.以腐尸为食的动物，清扫工 | |
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47
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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48
bide
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| v.忍耐；等候；住 | |
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49
precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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50
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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51
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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52
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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53
alpine
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| adj.高山的；n.高山植物 | |
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54
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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55
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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56
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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57
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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58
blotted
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| 涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 )； （用吸墨纸）吸干 | |
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59
likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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61
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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62
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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64
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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65
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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66
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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67
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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68
computed
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| adj.[医]计算的，使用计算机的v.计算，估算( compute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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70
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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72
gallows
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| n.绞刑架，绞台 | |
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73
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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