Charlie to the Rescue by R. M. Ballantyne (great book club books txt) đ
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
Book online «Charlie to the Rescue by R. M. Ballantyne (great book club books txt) đ». Author R. M. Ballantyne
âAnâ wiâ that, Mr Brooke, he fetched the bottle in front of him such a crack wiâ his fist as sent it all to smash against the opposite wall.
ââWell done, Screw!â cried the boy at the bar, laughinâ; âhave another bottle?â
âPoor Screw smiled in a sheepish way, for the rile was out of him by that time, anâ, says he, âWell, I donât mind if I do. A shot like that deserves another!â
âAh me!â continued the scout, âit do take the manhood out of a fellow, that drink. Even when his indignationâs roused and he tries to shake it off, he canât do it.â
âWell do I know that, Ben. It is only God who can help a man in such a case.â
The scout gravely shook his head. âSeems to me, Mr Brooke, that thereâs a screw loose some wheres in our theology, for Iâve heard parsons as well as you say thatâas if the Almighty condescended to help us only when weâre in bad straits. Now, though Iâm but a scout and pretend to no book larninâ, it comes in strong upon me that if God made us anâ measures our movements, anâ gives us every beat oâ the pulse, anâ counts the very hairs of our heads, we stand in need of His help in every case and at all times; that we canât save ourselves from mischief under any circumstances, great or small, without Him.â
âI have thought of that too, sometimes,â said Charlie, sitting down on the rock beside his companion, and looking at him in some perplexity, âbut does not the view you take savour somewhat of fatalism, and seek to free us from responsibility in regard to what we do?â
âIt donât seem so to me,â replied the scout, âIâm not speakinâ, you see, so much of doinâ as of escapinâ. No doubt we are perfectly free to will, but it donât follow that we are free to act. Iâm quite free to will to cut my leg off or to let it stay on; anâ if I carry out my will anâ do it, why, Iâm quite free there tooâanâ also responsible. But I ainât free to sew it on again however much I may will to do soâleastwise if I do it wonât stick. The consekinces oâ my deed I must bear, but who will deny that the Almighty could grow on another leg if He chose? Why, some creeters He does allow to get rid of a limb or two, anâ grow new ones! So, you see, Iâm responsible for my deeds, but, at the same time, I must look to God for escape from the consekinces, if He sees fit to let me escape. A man, beinâ free, may drink himself into a drunkard, but heâs not free to cure himself. He canât do it. The demon Crave has got him by the throat, forces him to open his mouth, and pours the fiery poison down. The thing that he is free to do is to will. He may, if he chooses, call upon God the Saviour to help him; anâ my own belief is that no man ever made such a call in vain.â
âHow, if that be so, are we to account for the failure of those who try, honestly strive, struggle, and agonise, yet obviously fail?â
âItâs not for the like oâ me, Mr Brooke, to expound the outs anâ ins oâ all mysteries. Yet I will pâint out that you, what they call, beg the question, when you say that such people âhonestlyâ strive. If a man tries to unlock a door with all his might and main, heart and soul, honestly tries, by turninâ the key the wrong way, heâll strive till doomsday without openinâ the door! Itâs my opinion that a man may get into difficulties of his own free-will. He can get out of them only by applyinâ to his Maker.â
During the latter part of this conversation the hunters had risen and were making their way through the trackless woods, when the scout stopped suddenly and gazed for a few seconds intently at the ground. Then he kneeled and began to examine the spot with great care. âA footprint here,â he said, âthat tells of recent visitors.â
âFriends, Ben, or foes?â asked our hero, also going on his knees to examine the marks. âWell, now, I see only a pressed blade or two of grass, but nothing the least like a footprint. It puzzles me more than I can tell how you scouts seem so sure about invisible marks.â
âTruly, if they was invisible you would have reason for surprise, but my wonder is that you donât see them. Any child in wood-craft might read them. See, here is the edge oâ the right futt making a faint impression where the ground is softâanâ the heel; surely ye see the heel!â
âA small hollow I do see, but as to its being a heel-print I could not pronounce on that. Has it been made lately, think you?â
âAy, last night or this morning at latest; and it was made by the futt of Jake the Flint. I know it well, for Iâve had to track him more than once anâ would spot it among a thousand.â
âIf Jake is in the neighbourhood, wouldnât it be well to return to the cave? He and some of his gang might attack it in our absence.â
âNo fear oâ that,â replied the scout, rising from his inspection, âthe futt pâints away from the cave. I should say that the Flint has bin there durinâ the night, anâ found that we kepâ too sharp a look-out to be caught sleepinâ. Where he went to arter that no one can tell, but we can hoof it anâ see. Like enough he went to spy us out alone, anâ then returned to his comrades.â
So saying, the scout âhoofed itâ through the woods at a pace that tested Charlie Brookeâs powers of endurance, exceptionally good though they were. After a march of about four miles in comparative silence they were conducted by the footprints to an open space in the midst of dense thicket where the fresh ashes of a camp fire indicated that a party had spent some time.
âJust so. They came to see what was up and what could be done, found that nothinâ partiklar was up anâ nothinâ at all could be done, so off they go, mounted, to fish in other waters. Just as well for us.â
âBut not so well for the fish in the other waters,â remarked Charlie.
âTrue, but we canât help that. Come, we may as well return now.â
While Charlie and the scout were thus following the trail, Buck Tom, lying in the cave, became suddenly much worse. It seemed as if some string in his system had suddenly snapped and let the poor human wreck run down.
âCome here, Leather,â he gasped faintly.
Poor Shank, who never left him, and who was preparing food for him at the time, was at his side in a moment, and bent anxiously over him.
âDâyou want anything?â he asked.
âNothing, Shank. Whereâs Dick?â
âOutside; cutting some firewood.â
âDonât call him. Iâm glad we are alone,â said the outlaw, seizing his friendâs hand with a feeble, tremulous grasp. âIâm dying, Shank, dear boy. You forgive me?â
âForgive you, Ralph! Ayâlong, long ago Iââ He could not finish the sentence.
âI know you did, Shank,â returned the dying man, with a faint smile. âHow it will fare with me hereafter I know not. Iâve but one word to say when I get there, and that isâguilty! IâI loved your sister, Shank. Ayâyou never guessed it. I only tell you now that I may send her a message. Tell her that the words she once said to me about a Saviour have never left me. They are like a light in the darkness now. God bless youâShankâandâMay.â
With a throbbing heart and listening ear Shank waited for more; but no more came. The hand he still held was lifeless, and the spirit of the outlaw had entered within the veil of that mysterious Hereafter.
It was growing dark when Brooke and the scout reached the cave that evening and found that Buck Tom was dead; but they had barely time to realise the fact when their attention was diverted by the sudden arrival of a large band of horsemenâcowboys and othersâthe leader of whom seemed to be the cow-boy Crux.
Hunky Ben and his friends had, of course, made rapid preparations to receive them as foes, if need were; but on recognising who composed the cavalcade, they went out to meet them.
âHallo! Hunky,â shouted Crux, as he rode up and leaped off his steed, âhave they been here?â
âWho dâye mean?â demanded the scout.
âWhy, Jake the Flint, to be sure, anâ his murderinâ gang. Havenât ye heard the news?â
âNot I. Who dâye think would take the trouble to come up here with noos?â
âTheyâve got clear off, boys,â said Crux, in a voice of great disappointment. âSo we must off saddle, anâ camp where we are for the night.â
While the rest of the party dismounted and dispersed to look for a suitable camping-ground, Crux explained the reason of their unexpected appearance.
After the Flint and his companions had left their mountain fastness, as before described, they had appeared in different parts of the country and committed various depredations; some of their robberies having been accompanied with bloodshed and violence of a nature which so exasperated the people that an organised band had at length been gathered to go in pursuit of the daring outlaw. But Jake was somewhat Napoleonic in his character, swift in his movements, and sudden in his attacks; so that, while his exasperated foes were searching for him in one direction, news would be brought of his having committed some daring and bloody deed far off in
Comments (0)