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Chapter VII
The Forest Rangers

It was, as Jock Abler had prophesied, rough going; in places it was desperate. Now had Ron all his need of bushcraft to keep himself from stumbling, and again and again he felt thankful that he was sure-footed. As for Jock, that marvellous man—already a hero in Ron's eyes—never missed a step, never faltered for an instant as he led the way along the narrow ridge of dry ground between the raupo and toe-toe of the swamp.

And as he went he cheered his little party with words of comfort and encouragement.

"Feeling better, Mistress Johnston?" he would ask, and, never giving her a chance to reply, he would say cheerily: "That's good! We'll have you in Roro in no time!"

But as he himself had said, it was a weary way to Roro, and Tom Johnston was fairly whimpering with fatigue when they came at last to the end of the swamplands and struck into the scrub, only a short mile or so of which now separated them from the settlement.

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They had hard work to cover that last mile, but eventually they emerged into a paddock and saw looming before them the dim shape of a house.

"Yon lives a family of my acquaintance," said Jock. "Beyond that is the doctor's. Well make towards there—— But stop!" he added, throwing a suspicious glance at the house before them. "There are no lights about. Either it's later than I make it, or else there is trouble abroad here."

They consulted with each other in low tones. The absence of any lights in the settlement augured no happy conclusion to their journey.

"You go forward, lad," said Jock finally. "You're quicker than I am, and a better scout. I'll bide here minding Mistress Johnston and the boy, and wait for word from you. We daren't carry the poor body into further perils."

"I'll leave you my gun, then," said Ron. "Give me your knife in exchange. If I run into anything that looks queer I'll give the danger whistle, and if you hear that, get back into the scrub. I'll look after myself."

Jock passed over the knife, and Ron set off, crawling across the paddock. When he came near the house he drew himself into a clump of punga ferns and listened intently. Hearing no sound, he stole up to the door and knocked.

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His heart beat rapidly as he waited for some response. There was something eerie about this dark house, he felt, something foreboding in the fact that no answer came to repeated knocking. He decided to go onward and try the house Jock had said to be the doctor's.

But he got no answer there, nor at the next place he tried.

"P'r'aps every one has run away to Turanganui," he thought. "I'll try one more—that big place up on the hill."

He made up the hill, picking his way through a shrubbery that was evidently part of the garden attached to the house, and came out on a path which led upward in a gentle curve.

Suddenly a voice calling: "Halt! Who goes there?" caused his heart to bound excitedly, and he answered quickly:

"Friend! I am Ronald Cameron, from up the swamp road!"

"Come here, and let's have a look at you!" invited the voice, and Ron thankfully went up to the top of the path to be looked at.

The immediate result of the inspection was that ere long he was admitted to the house, and was deep in conversation with a tall, soldierly-looking man, who informed Ron that he was Captain page 89Barry. And the boy, who had many times heard of Captain Barry, a well-known soldier-settler, and of his exploits in the native wars, looked with admiration and respect at the valiant soldier while he told him of Mrs Johnston's plight.

"Mrs Johnston wounded—in the scrub below—her husband and two of the boys killed!" Captain Barry repeated; and, turning abruptly to a man who stood beside him, he ordered: "Evans, get a couple of good men and go along with this boy, and bring her in as quickly as you can!" To Ron, he added: "I should like to know more of this when you get back."

In a few moments the men appeared, and soon the party was making its way across the paddocks, Ron telling them, as they went, of his and Jock's experiences. He also asked for news of Isbel, and his fears for her were renewed when the men replied that they did not think she was among the fugitives who had reached Roro.

"Didn't you come up from the crossroads?" Evans asked him.

"No, we came across the swamp by a path Jock Abler knew," replied Ron.

"And it's just as well that you did!" the man informed him. "We had a lively little scrap here a couple of hours back. A band of Hauhaus came page 90along, thinking to surprise us. But Captain Barry had word of the rising yesterday, so we had everything ready to give them a warm reception. Instead of the settlers being scattered they were brought in, every man, woman, and child among them, and crammed into three of the biggest houses, and Captain Barry planted a big ambush by the road. So when the Hauhaus came along we gave them the scare of their lives, and they went back towards Turanganui leaving a few dead men behind them!"

"That was fine," Ron said listlessly. For all that he was a boy, and gloried in tales of fighting, his heart was heavy with apprehension and sorrow.

Was it possible that Isbel could have missed running into that very band? Hardly, he thought, for from what Evans had told him, the Turanganui-Roro road was completely in the hands of the Hauhaus.

When the party reached the first house at which he had knocked Ron whistled once, and a few moments thereafter he and the men were standing by Jock and his charges.

"Be gentle, friends," advised Jock, as two of the men raised the stretcher. To Ron he said: "What news of your sister?"

"None!" answered Ron hopelessly; and out of page 91sympathy for the boy Jock said nothing further throughout the journey up to the house on the hill.

Arrived there, tender hands were speedily laid on Mrs Johnston. Mrs Barry herself was waiting to care for her, while the doctor had been summoned from the near-by house in which he and his family had taken refuge. All eagerly awaited his verdict.

When it was delivered there was a subdued cheer from the men, and Jock and Ron were warmly congratulated upon their work in succouring the poor woman.

"Another hour," the doctor said, "and I could have done nothing for her. As it is, she will live!"

"But the price!" thought Ron desperately. "The price!"

In the room that Captain Barry, as the appointed leader of the fugitives, occupied, the whole story of the Hauhau raid on "The Poplars" was recounted, and Ron told his own experiences and what of Isbel's doings he knew. When he came to the finding of the message on the table of the whare he broke down, and covered his face with his hands.

"Poor lad," said Captain Barry softly; and, looking round at the pitying faces of the men about him, he exclaimed: "I want six volunteers from this house, six from Loburn's, and another six page 92from Pratt's. Three separate parties are required to go out in search of the bravest little girl I have ever heard of; and they will start at once!"

There was not a man there who did not cry to be allowed to go. But Captain Barry chose only six, remarking that the others must remain in order to guard the women and children who were within the house. Half an hour after messages had been sent to the other houses the three parties set forth on their quest.

Both Jock and Ron begged leave to accompany them, but this Captain Barry refused. He told them that they were in sore need of rest, and he personally saw to it that they were provided with mattresses and rugs, and given a quiet corner in which to sleep.

"No one knows what to-morrow may bring forth," he said in conclusion. "I may need every available man. I have sent a runner to Turanganui for news, but he has not returned; so I can't yet say whether this business is merely a local Hauhau rising, or whether all the Maoris will take up arms against us. It is well known that Te Kooti wields enormous influence among the tribes. The few natives who live about this settlement have made themselves scarce, so we must prepare to face the worst. From what you page 93and others have told me, there must be several parties at work already. Well, it has been an evil day for the whites, but it will be a worse for that old villain Te Kooti when we catch him. Poor Johnston! He was my lifelong friend, and my comrade in many fights!"

He shook hands with the two friends, and left the room abruptly.

"Yon's a good man," said Jock, staring after him. "A good man to follow. I'm his man if there's any fighting to be done."

"Do you think he would take me too?" asked Ron.

The bushman shook his head. "You're too young, lad."

"Was I too young to save your life as you said I did last night, Jock?" asked the boy bitterly. "Or too young to stand by you to help save Mrs Johnston, when I might have gone after my own sister? Too young——" He could say no more. In bitter disappointment he threw himself down on his mattress.

"Now, now," said Jock. "I did you wrong, lad. See, I admit it. Jock Abler has never found a finer comrade. Come, cheer up, and I'll talk to yon Captain in the morning. We'll find work for you between us!"

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But Ron did not answer. Weary and heart-sick, he lay on his mattress, and long after Jock was snoring peacefully he still tossed from side to side. And when at last he slept it was uneasy slumber, and beset with horrid dreams.

With the first grey light of the dawn he was aroused by the man Evans, who told him that Captain Barry wished to see him.

Could it possibly be news of Isbel? His heart-beats quickened as he rushed to Captain Barry's room.

The leader nodded reassuringly in answer to the mute question in Ron's eyes. His was not the nature to waste words. He handed the boy a piece of paper. And thereon Ron read, printed in rough lettering:

Isbel Cameron is safe. Send help to Johnston's.

Beneath the words there was the rudely drawn sketch of a weka.

Captain Barry watched the boy closely as he read the message. Then, as Ron looked up, eyes sparkling and mouth smiling, he said:

"I see you know who sent that message."

"Oh, yes," Ron answered, and he was just about to say: "It comes from Hori te Whiti—he has always signed any messages to me in that way," page 95when a sudden thought struck him, and he stammered: "It is from a Maori friend of ours. He warned me in the first place that Te Kooti might come down from the Urewera country." But his heart was singing songs of joy, and he was saying to himself: "Hori has found Isbel. Thank God! Hori has found her. She is safe, safe, safe!"

"You evidently do not want to tell me the sender's name," remarked Captain Barry, smiling. "Well, doubtless you have a good reason, and I shall not pry into your secrets."

"May I ask how the message came?" asked Ron.

"In a most peculiar manner," Captain Barry answered. "One of the members of the foremost party that went out last night got away too far in advance of the others. Before he knew what had happened he felt himself clutched round the throat, while that paper was thrust into his hand. The whole affair happened so quickly that when he recovered his breath he found that whoever it was that had seized him had disappeared. I did not know what to make of it all; but your recognition of the sender of the message makes the matter a little bit clearer. I fancy that the Maori, whoever he is, is fighting for Te Kooti, and did not care to risk letting anyone know him again. Is that your idea?"

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"I did think of it sir," admitted Ron frankly. "I know all his people are keen on Te Kooti."

"Well, let us be thankful that your anxiety is at an end," declared Captain Barry, with satisfaction. "I could wish that other fugitives at Roro could receive such good news of lost relatives. There were only too many, who like the Johnstons, received no warning at all. Now, tell me, how do you like being in a blockhouse?"

"Not very much," answered Ron promptly; and then summoning up all his courage, he ventured: "Will you let me go with you when you go out after the Hauhaus, sir?"

"What?" said Captain Barry in startled tones. "But you are only a boy. No, Ronald, the pursuit of Te Kooti will be men's work!"

Then Ron pleaded his case, and he pleaded it well. He considered that this was no time for the display of any modesty. So he told the soldier of his knowledge of the bush, of his skill in tracking, of his familiarity with Maori ways and the Maori language. And when he had finished, he said: "Ask Jock Abler—he will tell you whether I am speaking the truth!"

Jock, summoned to the room, after one keen glance at the two faces saw what was afoot.

"This lad, Abler," said Captain Barry, "tells me page 97that he knows the bush and the Maoris, is a good scout, and is not afraid of anything. Can you induce me to believe all this?"

"I believe it myself," said Jock sturdily.

"He says that he is cool-headed," added the soldier.

"He saved my life by being so, two nights back," answered Jock. "And he saved his own and his brother's and his sister's as well!"

"You will persuade me, in spite of myself!" laughed Captain Barry.

"I hope so, sir," Jock replied solemnly. "And when I tell you of what he did yesterday, I think to persuade you altogether. Yesterday morn, Captain, I put to yon lad a choice from the making of which many an older man would have shrunk. I asked him to choose between going after his only sister and a babe, and staying to help bring into safety Mistress Johnston. And the lad looked his duty in the eye and never flinched. Search the country as you may, you'll not find a finer man, nor one more fitted to fight that demon Te Kooti than Ronald Cameron!" and the bushman smote the table with his fist to enforce his argument.

"Enough!" said Captain Barry. "I am more than persuaded. Ronald, you shall have your wish. To-day, if you will, I will enrol you in the page 98company of the Forest Rangers I intend raising, though what your father, when he hears of it all, will say to me, I dare not think! And you, Abler," he added, turning to Jock, "I think you had better come along with the lad and take care of him!"

"That I will, and my thanks, sir," answered Jock. "I'm fair dying to get a crack at the murdering fiends!"

The soldier shook hands with them both. "There will be work for you, perhaps, by dawn to-morrow. I intend trying to clear the road to Turanganui." And with a few complimentary words he dismissed them.

"Jock, you old humbug," cried the delighted Ron, as the door closed on them. "Why did you make me so unhappy last night?"

The bushman grinned. "You are only a lad to me, Ron, and I'll tell you so to your face; but I'll not hear anyone else in the world say that you aren't as much of a man as any between here and the North Cape. And Jock Abler's your comrade through thick and thin!"

Captain Barry was right. There was work to be done. At dawn on the following morning he left a guard over his blockhouses, as he called them, and marched forth with forty men, among whom were Jock and Ron, along the road toward Turanganui.

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Their march was a peaceful one. Not a sign of a native did they see, except the bodies of those Hauhaus who had perished in the ambush two nights before. A sharp look-out was maintained all the way, for the road wound between low, scrub-covered hills. Extra caution was observed as they neared the point where the swamp road ran into the main highway.

Then, sudden and sharp in their ears, sounded a volley of musketry. They quickened their pace. And, rounding the last bend that disclosed the junction of the two roads they met with an astounding sight.

Down the road, evidently to meet a party of men who were approaching from the direction of Turanganui, flew a young girl, carrying a little boy, while behind her charged a band of Hauhaus, brandishing tomahawks and uttering ferocious yells.

For a moment the Roro men held their breaths. No one dared fire for fear of hitting the girl. And so waiting, they saw her reach safety, saw the oncoming men form a protective square about her and await the savage onslaught, bayonets fixed.

Captain Barry shouted: "Forward, Forest Rangers! Take them in the rear!"

And the Rangers charged madly after the Hauhaus.