The Gold Hunter's Adventures Or, Life In Australia Volume 2 ( Of 2 ), William H. Thomes [best story books to read .txt] 📗

Down With A Roguish Twinkle. We Started To Our Feet,

When, Lo! Precisely Where We Stood Was The Edge Of The Shadow, Cast In

The Form Of A Cross, With The Upper Part Resting Towards Us.

 

Mr. Brown Seized The Pickaxe And Struck It Into The Ground, And As He

Did So I Thought That I Heard A Low Groan. I Could Not Tell In What

Direction It Came From, Yet I Would Have Sworn That It Originated On The

Island. I Glanced At The Face Of My Companion, But He Was Too Intent

Upon The Business Before Him To Notice My Look, Or To Pay Any Attention

To The Sound That Had Disturbed My Composure.

 

"There Is One Thing I Wish To Caution You About," My Companion Said,

Pausing In His Work; "Don't Speak While We Are Digging, Or The Gold Will

Vanish From Our Sight Like Magic. You Understand."

 

I Nodded In The Affirmative, Although I Had No Faith In His Advice, Or

In The Necessity Of Maintaining Silence. I Considered That The Devil And

His Imps Would Not Care About Interesting Themselves In A Matter Which

Could Do Them No Good, And Might Hurt Their Friends.

 

Mr. Brown Glanced Around The Island, Saw That Every Thing Was Quiet, And

Then Recommenced His Labor With Energy And Determination.

 

About The Second Blow That He Struck Was Answered By A Groan So

Unearthly That I Began To Entertain Serious Ideas Regarding The

Propriety Of Joining A Church, Or Attempting A Prayer Of Some Sort. My

Companion Did Not Seem To Notice The Interruption, And I Remembered His

Instruction Not To Speak, So I Did Not Intrude My Thoughts In Relation

To The Matter Upon Him.

 

A Dozen Blows With The Pickaxe Removed The Dead Grass, And Exposed A

Soil Such As Two Thirds Of Australia Is Composed Of, A Light Sand, Soft,

And Not Suitable For Agricultural Purposes.

 

Mr. Brown Made A Motion For Me To Use The Shovel, And I Was About To Do

So, But A Groan, Louder And More Unearthly Than The Original Ones,

Prevented Me.

 

"What, In The Devil's Name, Is That?" Demanded My Friend, Looking Around

The Island With Some Symptoms Of Alarm And Curiosity, Forgetting, In His

Eagerness For Information, That Speaking Aloud Was Strictly Prohibited

While Digging For The Gold.

 

"Perhaps One Of Your Ghosts That You Have Talked So Much About, Or It

May Be The Spirit Of Bill Swinton, Desirous Of Claiming A Share In The

Booty."

 

"I Don't Think That," My Friend Said, After A Short Pause; "After All

The Trouble I Had With Him--Furnishing The Candles To Die By, And

Allowing Him Luxuries Of The Most Costly Description, I Don't Think That

He Would Be So Mean."

 

"Then Let Us Solve Our Doubts By Making Search Over The Island," I

Replied, Drawing My Revolver, Determined To Shoot At Whatever I Saw, Let

It Be Man Or Beast, Devil Or Ghost.

 

"No, No--Don't Do That; We Should He Decoyed Into A Bog By An _Ignis

Fatuus_, And Smothered Without Mercy. Let Us Stay Where We Are, And Dig

Until We See Sights That Make Us Abandon The Project."

 

I Agreed To Be Guided By Mr. Brown's Advice, And Once More We Began To

Toil Amid The Rocks And Dead Grass.

 

About This Time The Moon, Which Had Shone With Wonderful Brightness

While We Were Digging, Became Obscured By White Clouds From The

Westward, So That Objects On The Island Were More Indistinct, And Even

The Trees On The Main Land, Under Which We Had Left Our Horses, Were No

Longer Discernable.

 

I Thought, As I Threw Out The Earth From The Hole Which We Had Already

Made, That The Ground Had Been Dug Up Before, And I Felt Encouraged To

Continue My Labors, In Hopes That We Should Soon Reach The Treasure

Which We Considered Belonged To Us By Bequest.

 

All Thoughts Of Ghosts And Spirits Were Fast Passing Away In The

Excitement Of My Occupation, When Suddenly Mr. Brown Dropped His Pickaxe

And Uttered An Exclamation.

 

"Did You Hear That?" He Cried, Pointing In The Direction From Whence He

Supposed The Sound Proceeded.

 

"No," I Answered, Beginning To Feel A Little Of His Own Alarm.

 

"If This D----D Island Isn't Haunted, I Wouldn't Say So," My Companion

Continued.

 

"Remember The Compact Which You Proposed, That We Were Not To Exchange A

Word During Our Occupation."

 

"The Devil Take The Compact, And Me, Too, If I Can Help Speaking When I

Hear Such Unearthly Noises."

 

Hardly Were The Words Out Of His Mouth When From The Earth Arose A Form

That Seemed At Least Ten Feet High. It Was Clothed In White, And From

Its Head Projected Two Monstrous Horns, Which Were Pointed Towards Us In

A Threatening Manner. I Could Discern No Features, But A Huge Mass Of

White Bones Were Visible Where The Face Should Have Been, And I Thought

That I Could Hear Them Rattle As The Beast, Devil, Or Ghost Shook Its

Head In An Ominous Manner, And Advanced Towards Us.

 

"I Can't Stand This?" Cried Mr. Brown, In A Trembling Whisper, And Away

He Went, With The Speed Of A Greyhound, Towards The Bridge That

Connected The Island With The Main Land.

 

I Did Not Think That Words Were Desirable Or Becoming On My Part, As I

Did Not Have Charge Of The Expedition, So No Sooner Had Mr. Brown Turned

To Run Than I Followed Him.

 

Fear Lent Me Wings, And I Bounded Over The Rocks Like A Deer Pursued By

Hunters, But In Despite Of My Utmost Endeavors I Found That I Was

Unable To Compete With My Friend, Who Ran As Though Trained For Ten

Mile Stretches Upon A Race Course.

 

Once I Looked Back To See If We Were Followed, But The White Visitant

Appeared Content With Driving Us Off, For No Pursuit Was Made.

 

I Had Half An Idea Of Stopping, But Another Groan, More Unnatural And

Ghostly Than Any That I Had Heard, Determined Me, And I Recommenced My

Flight With But Faint Hope Of Overtaking Mr. Brown, Who, I Perceived,

Was Already On The Peninsula, Bounding Along With A Recklessness That

Would Have Made Him Shudder At Any Other Time. I Attempted To Utter A

Warning Cry, But The Effort Was A Failure, And Just As I Reached The

Bridge I Saw That My Worst Fears Were Realized, For My Friend Caught His

Feet In The Long, Dried Grass, Lost His Balance, And Fell Heavily.

 

I Quickly Gained The Spot, And Saw, To My Horror, That My Companion Had

Fallen Upon The Soft, Black Mud Which Extended For Many Acres On Each

Side Of The Island, And That He Was Slowly Sinking, In Spite Of His

Frantic Efforts To Reach The Bridge, Which Was About Six Feet From His

Outstretched Arms.

 

"Save Me!" He Cried, In Despairing Accents, And Just Then The Moon, As

Though In Mockery Of His Request, Shone Out Brighter Than Ever.

 

He Made An Almost Superhuman Effort To Sustain Himself, And Keep From

Sinking, But I Saw, With Horror, That He Was Settling Slowly And Surely,

And That All His Struggles Only Hastened His End.

 

"Can You Do Nothing For Me?" He Shrieked. "For God's Sake, Don't Let Me

Die Such A Horrid Death As This. Try And Save Me."

 

I Thought Of A Dozen Different Ways To Assist Him, But None Of Them Were

Practicable, And I Was Obliged To Conjure Up Others.

 

"Can You Reach My Hand?" I Asked, Stretching It Towards Him, First

Taking The Precaution Of Twisting My Left Hand In A Clump Of Dried

Grass, So That I, Too, Should Not Be Dragged Into The Bog.

 

The Poor Fellow Made A Frantic Effort To Do So, But He Could Not Reach

Within Six Inches.

 

"Lean A Little More Towards Me," He Shrieked, But I Did Not Dare To, For

I Should Have Shared His Fate, And Both Of Us Would Have Smothered, And

Our Friends Would Never Have Learned Our Fate.

 

My Companion Uttered A Groan, And For A Moment Was Silent. During The

Brief Period, I Heard, With Awful Distinctness, The Sound Of The

Pickaxe, As It Was Struck Against The Rocks Upon The Island, Worked, I

Had No Doubt, By Supernatural Hands.

 

 

 

Volume 2 Chapter 67 (The Island Ghost.--Narrow Escape Of Mr. Brown) Pg 138

I Would Sooner Have Faced The Most Savage Gang Of Bushrangers In

Australia Than That Fearful Sound, Yet I Was So Anxious To Save My

Friend That, Frightened As I Really Was, I Did Not Run, Or Even Make A

Motion To That Effect. The Drowning Man, With Face Upturned, And Eyes

That Watched My Every Motion, At Length Heard The Dull, Heavy Blows Of

The Pick, And He Seemed To Comprehend That They Were Intended As

Warnings Of His End. He No Longer Struggled Like A Brave Man Wrestling

With Death, But Seemed To Grow More Calm As The Slime And Mud Closed

Around Him, And His Body Settled.

 

"How Can I Save You?" I Asked; "I Cannot Think That We Are To Part So

Suddenly; I Would Give All My Wealth For A Rope Six Feet Long."

 

"If You Had One Of The Horses' Bridles Here," Suggested Mr. Brown, But

Before I Could Start To Get One, He Continued, "Don't Leave Me, For I

Should Be Smothered Before You Could Get Back; See, The Water Is Up Even

With My Chin."

 

I Had Noticed The Same Thing Before He Alluded To It, And I Dreaded To

Remain And Hear His Last Struggles For Breath.

 

"I Have A Mother Somewhere On The Coast Of England; The Last That I

Heard Of Her She Was At Falmouth. Will You Write And Collect What Money

I Have Saved, And Send It To Her? I Know That You Will, And A Dying Man

Thanks You."

 

While The Poor Fellow Was Speaking, A Thought Entered My Head That He

Might Yet Be Saved, But There Was No Time To Lose If I Intended To Put

Into Operation My Plan For His Relief. I Hastily Tore Off My Belt Which

I Wore Around My Waist, And Which Contained My Revolver And Knife, And

Then Stripped Off My Trousers, (The Ladies Will Please Not To

Blush--There Was No Habitation Within Three Miles Of Us,) Made Of Stout

Woollen Cloth, Which I Had Bought In Melbourne For The Purpose Of Riding

Through The Brush On Horseback.

 

In An Instant My Friend Appeared To Comprehend My Plan; He Raised His

Right Hand From The Mud And Reached Towards Me As Far As Possible, And

Then, With A Struggle To Keep His Head Above The Water,

Murmured--"Quick, For God's Sake, Quick!"

 

"Keep Up Your Courage," I Shouted, Throwing One Leg Of The Garment

Volume 2 Chapter 67 (The Island Ghost.--Narrow Escape Of Mr. Brown) Pg 139

Towards Him, While I Retained The Other.

 

To My Great Joy I Saw That He Grasped It In His Right Hand, And Exerted

All His Strength To Extricate Himself From His Perilous Condition. Had I

Not Have Been Prepared For His Struggles, And Braced My Feet Firmly, I

Should Have Been Dragged Into The Bog.

 

"Gently!" I Cried, Fearful That My Friend, In His Exertions, Would Rend

The Cloth.

 

My Words Were Thrown Away, However, For When Did A Man, Struggling For

Life, Ever Listen To Reason? For A Few Seconds The Suction Was So Great

That I Could Only Prevent