She soothed him and said, 'The white men are gone to Barker's Creek and they will kill Dalton and his gang.'

'It is good,' said King Charlie. 'We will go too.'

Sal thought for a moment, and it occurred to her that King Charlie and his tribe might be of use to them. She knew these blacks, the best of the whole tribe, could fight, and were hardy, tough men. They would do anything King Charlie told them, for they were wont to obey.

'It is far and you are weary,' she said. 'Where is the tribe?'

'Woolloola,' he said, and pointed with his hand.

Sal knew Woolloola was the name given to one of their camping grounds; there were no houses there, it was not a township, merely a black fellows' camp.

'They take the gang to-morrow early,' she said. 'You will not be in time.'

'The fight will be long. We shall be in time,' was the reply.

'Follow me,' she said.

She got an old lantern and, lighting the candle, went out into the paddock. Standing still she took his arm and pointed to a mound of newly-turned earth.

'The black gin from Barker's Creek who gave me warning lies there. Abe Dalton shot her through the head. Thus was she repaid for trying to save me.'

She felt him tremble, and he raised his hand and shook it as though brandishing a spear.

'She shall be avenged!' he muttered. 'Blood shall be spilled for her.

The tribe will avenge her and King Charlie will lead them on. Come!'

The old black walked before her with a peculiar dignity that would have been amusing had it been a.s.sumed, but it was not, it came natural even to this savage.

'Give me food and I will go,' he said.

'You are weary; rest.'

'I am no longer weary. She shall be avenged.'

He left her, and Sal knew he might prove a friend in need to the white men who were attacking Dalton's gang.

King Charlie, although a great age, was still active, and walked many miles a day. Leg weary he seldom was, but long fasting and starvation caused him bodily weakness. In a case such as this he was stirred on by thoughts of vengeance on Dalton and his gang, who had so bitterly wronged him. He went swiftly and surely in a direct line for his Woolloola camp, and arrived there before Sergeant Machinson and party reached the outskirts of Barker's Creek.

King Charlie harangued the tribe and roused them from their accustomed apathy. It was long since they had been in conflict with white men, but they were nothing loath to try their strength with such natural enemies as Dalton and his men. They knew every member of the gang, from bitter experience, and were not likely to make mistakes in the conflict.

They were quickly on the march, and travelled rapidly, leaving their women wailing behind.

The party from Wanabeen had no conception of what had happened, and they were only to find out later on, much to their surprise and that of Dalton's men.

On their arrival in the dense country round the Creek it soon became evident there was to be no surprising of Barker's Creek or a bloodless victory.

As they were consulting the best plan to adopt, a shot was heard, evidently a signal from one of Dalton's men who had by some means discovered their whereabouts.

'They must have had spies out in different parts of the country,' said Jim Dennis. 'We are in for a warm time, depend upon it. I don't see why you or Dr Tom ought to risk your lives over this job,' he added, looking at Mr Dauntsey and then at the doctor.

'Look here, Jim Dennis, I'm not in the habit of turning my back on the enemy, and it's a trifle mean of you to suggest such a thing.'

'No one doubts your courage, doc,' said Jim; 'but you ought to take care of yourself, because your professional services may be required.'

'And the doctor's duty is in the thick of the fight, where all the blood is being spilt. What do you say, Mr Dauntsey?'

'I am going to take my part and you will take yours, so there is an end of it; but Dennis meant well in what he said. If anyone ought to be kept out of harm's way it is Willie,' answered the magistrate.

'He will not run any risk. Will you, my lad?' said his father, anxiously.

'No, dad; but if there is a chance of potting one of the gang I'll try how I can shoot,' he replied.

It was growing light, and in half an hour there would be sunshine and no chance of further concealment.

They had decided to spread out in a circle, and make for the centre of the Creek at a signal to be given by Sergeant Machinson.

They separated, Willie keeping near his father.

It was impossible to see whether anyone was concealed in the bushes, and they had to keep on the alert in case shots were fired.

They had not long to wait, for in a few moments the crack of rifles was heard in the bush. A bullet whizzed past Jim Dennis, and he called out to Willie to follow him and galloped on some distance.

'Why does not Machinson give the signal?' he thought. 'It is not much good hanging around here to be shot at; I want to get at close quarters.'

A shrill whistle sounded, and Jim Dennis charged straight through the bush, followed by his son.

A shot from Jim's revolver was followed by a heavy fall, and he shouted,--

'Winged him, Willie; he's down. Come on!'

In a few minutes the little party were inside Barker's Creek, and they then saw Abe Dalton's plan of defence.

From Dalton's house, and the others near it, came a regular hail of bullets, and a mounted policeman threw up his arms and dropped out of his saddle like a stone.

One of his comrades dismounted, placed him across his horse, then sprang up behind and followed the others, Sergeant Machinson calling out,--

'Back! back for your lives! We have no chance in the open.'

It was a wise order, for there was nothing in standing to be shot at by men who were so well sheltered.

They halted in the bush out of rifle shot distance, and Dr Tom attended to the wounded man.

After a brief examination he said,--

'He'll pull round if there is no inward bleeding. He has been hit in the chest.'

'Your work has commenced early, doctor, bad luck to it,' said Jim Dennis. 'We'll make them pay for this later on. My advice is, fire them out.'