gun?'

'YOWI (yes). Wombo plenty frightened long-a ole husband belonging to
me.' And Oola dropped and knocked her head upon the ground, wailing the
ear-piercing death-wail of the Australian native women.

'Oola, you must stop howling!' said Bridget, alive to the seriousness
of the situation. 'Has Wombo shot your husband with our gun?'

'YOWI, Mithis. That feller husband altogether BONG' (dead).

From Oola's broken revelations Bridget pieced the story. It appeared
that the tribe had followed in hot pursuit of the fugitives, and,
knowing his peril, Wombo had sneaked up to the head-station in the
darkness, possessed himself of an effectual weapon, and fled away with
the gun. The offended blacks had discovered the guilty pair on the
outskirts of Breeza Downs, and Oola's husband, with a company of
braves, had attacked their gunya. Then--to quote Oola--'that feller
husband throw spear at Wombo--hit Oola long-a COBRA (head) with NULLA
NULLA. Him close-up carry off Oola. My word! Wombo catch him PHO PHO.
Plenty quick husband belonging to me TUMBLE DOWN.' And Oola wailed anew.

'Where's Wombo now?' Bridget asked.

'Blackfeller YAN (run) along-a pollis-man. Pollis-man close-up black's
camp. That feller Harris catch 'im Wombo--fetch um long-a Tunumburra
gaol. Mine think it stop to-night Moongarr. Close-up station now.'

Lady Bridget at once saw through the affair. Here was Harris taking a
legitimized revenge on Wombo, and doubtless also on herself. Clearly,
he had been patrolling the Breeza Downs boundaries in search of
Unionist incendiaries, and seizing Wombo instead, had acted promptly
without waiting for a warrant or consulting McKeith. Wombo would be
charged at the township with theft of the gun and murder of Oola's
husband. To a certainty he would be hanged if the matter ran its
ordinary course. That it should not do, Bridget declared within
herself--if she could by any possibility prevent it.

The half-caste woman and the white lady went swiftly through the gidia
scrub towards the head-station. At the gully crossing, Maule, on his
way back from the tailing-mob, overtook them, and dismounting, walked
with Lady Bridget to the house. She forgot then all the scene of last
evening, told him the black's story, begged him to help her in the
rescue of Wombo.

He reflected for a minute or two.

'We're up against Harris,' he said, 'and Harris has a grudge against
all of us. But Harris feels some respect for my knowledge of