Part 25 (1/2)
Even the w.i.l.l.y-w.i.l.l.ys had lain down to watch the silent struggle, and Dan, finding himself left entirely without occupation, ”feared he would be taking to booklearning soon if something didn't happen!” ”Never knew the showers so late,” he growled; and the homestead was inclined to agree that it was the ”dead-finish”; but remembering that even then our Fizzer was battling through that last stage of the Dry, we were silent, and Dan remembering also, devoted himself to the ”missus,” she being also a person of leisure now the w.i.l.l.y-w.i.l.l.ys were at rest.
For hours we pitched near the restful green of the melon-beds, and as we pitched the Maluka ran fencing wires through two sides of the garden fence, while Tiddle'ums and Bett-Bett, hovering about him, adapted themselves to the new order of things, finding the line the goats had to stop at no longer imaginary. And as the fence grew, Dan lent a hand here and there, the rejected and the staff indulged in glorious was.h.i.+ng-days among the lilies of the Reach; Cheon haunted the vegetable patch like a disconsolate ghost; while Billy Muck, the rainmaker, hovered bat-like over his melons, lending a hand also with the fence when called upon. As Cheon mourned, his garden also mourned, but when the melons began to mourn, at the Maluka's suggestion, Billy visited the Reach with two buckets, and his usual following of dogs, and after a two-mile walk gave the melons a drink.
Next day Billy Muck pressed old Jimmy into the service and, the Reach being visited twice, the melons received eight buckets of water Then Cheon tried every wile he knew to secure four buckets for his garden.
”Only four,” he pleaded, lavish in his bribes. But Billy and Jimmy had ”knocked up longa a carry water,” and Cheon watched them settle down to smoke, on the verge of tears. Then a traveller coming in with the news that heavy ram had fallen in Darwin--news gleaned from the gossiping wire--Cheon was filled with jealous fury at the good fortune of Darwin, and taunted Billy with rain-making taunts. ”If he were a rain-maker,” he taunted, ”he would make a little when he wanted it, instead of walking miles with buckets,” and the taunts rankling in Billy's royal soul, he retired to the camp to see about it.
”Hope he does the trick,” the traveller said, busy unpacking his team.
”Could do with a good bath fairly soon.” But Dan cautioned him to ”have a care,” settling down in the shade to watch proceedings. ”These early showers are a bit tricky,” he explained, ”can't tell how long they'll last. Heard of a chap once who reckoned it was good enough for a bath, but by the time he'd got himself nicely soaped the shower was travelling on ten miles a minute, and there wasn't another drop of rain for a fortnight, which wasn't too pleasant for the p.r.i.c.kly heat.”
The homestead rubbed its back in sympathy against the nearest upright, and Dan added that ”of course the soap kept the mosquitoes dodged a bit,”
which was something to be thankful for. ”There generally is something to be thankful for, if you only reckon it out,” he a.s.sured all. But the traveller, reduced to a sweltering p.r.i.c.kliness by his exertions, wasn't ”noticing much at present,” as he rubbed his back in his misery against the saddle of the horse he was unpacking. Then his horse, s.h.i.+fting its position, trod on his foot; and as he hopped round, nursing his stinging toes, Dan found an ill.u.s.tration for his argument. ”Some chaps,” he said, ”'ud be thankful to have toes to be trod on”; and ducking to avoid a coming missile, he added cheerfully, ”But there's even an advantage about having wooden legs at times. Heard once of a chap that reckoned 'em just the thing. Trod on a death-adder unexpected-like in his camp, and when the death-adder whizzed round to strike it, just struck wood, and the chap enjoyed his supper as usual that night. That chap had a wooden leg,” he added, unnecessarily explicit; and then his argument being nicely rounded off, he lent a hand with the pack-bags.
The traveller filled in Dan's evening, and Neaves' mate coming through next day, gave the Quarters a fresh start and then just before that sundown we felt the first breath of victory from the monsoon--just a few cool, gusty puffs of wind, that was all, and we ran out to enjoy them, only to scurry back into shelter, for our first shower was with us. In pelting fury it rushed upon us out of the northwest, and rus.h.i.+ng upon us, swept over us and away from us into the south-east, leaping from horizon to horizon in the triumph of victory.
As a matter of course, it left a sweltering awfulness behind it, but it was a promise of better things; and even as Dan was inquiring with a chuckle ”whether that chap in the Quarters had got a bath out of it,” a second pelting fury rushed over us, filling Cheon's heart with joy, and Billy with importance. Unfortunately it did not fill the water-b.u.t.ts with water, but already the garden was holding up its head, and Billy was claiming that he had scored a win.
”Well?” he said, waylaying Cheon in the garden, ”Well, me rainmaker?
Eh?” and Cheon's superst.i.tious heart bowed down before such evidence.
A ten-minutes' deluge half an hour later licked up every grain of dust, filled the water-b.u.t.ts to overflowing, brought the insect pest to life as by magic, left a shallow pool in the heart of the billabong, and added considerably to Billy's importance. Had not Brown of the Bulls come in during that ten-minutes' deluge, Cheon would probably have fallen to offering sacrifices to Billy. As it was, he could only load him with plum-cake, before turning his attention to the welcoming of Brown of the Bulls.
”What was the boss drover's fancy in the way of cooking?” he inquired of the missus, bent on his usual form of welcome, and the boss drover, a great burly Queenslander, with a voice as burly as his frame, answered for himself with a laughing ”Vegetables! and as many as you think I've room for.” Then, as Cheon gravely measured his inches with his eye, a burly chuckle shook the boss drover's great frame as he repeated: ”Just as many as you think I can hold,” adding in half apology: ”been away from women and vegetables for fifteen months.”
”That's nothing,” we told him, quoting the man from Beyanst, but hopeful to find the woman placed first. Then acting on a hint from Cheon, we took him to the banana clump.
During the evening another five-minutes' deluge gladdened our hearts, as the ”lavender” bugs and other sweet pests of the Territory insect pest saddened our bodies.
Soon after breakfast-time Happy d.i.c.k was across ”To see how you've fared,” he said, and then, to the diversion of Brown of the Bulls, Cheon and Happy d.i.c.k rejoiced together over the br.i.m.m.i.n.g water-b.u.t.ts, and mourned because the billabong had not done better, regretting the while that the showers were so ”patchy.”
Then while Happy d.i.c.k was a.s.suring us that ”both Warlochs were bankers,”
the Sanguine Scot rode in through the slip-rails at the North track, waving his hat in greeting and with Bertie and Bertie's Nellie tailing along behind him.
”Back again!” Mac called, light-hearted as a schoolboy just escaped from drudgery, while Bertie's Nellie, as a matter of course, was overcome with ecstatic giggles.
With Mac and the showers with us, we felt there was little left to wish for, and told Brown of the Bulls that he might now prepare to enjoy himself, and with a chuckle of antic.i.p.ation Brown ”hoped” the entertainment would prove ”up to samples already met with,” as he could ”do with a little enjoyment for a change.”
CHAPTER XXII
As a matter of course, Bertie's Nellie quietly gathered the reins of management into her own hands, and as a matter of course, Jimmy's Nellie indulged in ear-splitting continuous protest, and Brown of the, Bulls expressed himself as satisfied, so far, with the entertaining powers of the homestead.
As a matter of course, we left the servant problem to work out its own solution, and, also as a matter of course, the Sanguine Scot was full of plans for the future but particularly bubbling over with the news that he had secured Tam-o'-Shanter for a partner in the brumby venture.
”He'll be along in a few days,” he explained, confident that he was ”in luck this time all right,” and remembering Tam among the horses at the Katherine, we congratulated him.
As a matter of course, our conversation was all of brumbies, and Mac was also convinced that ”when you reckoned everything up there was a good thing in it.”
”Of course it'll take a bit of jumping round,” he agreed. But the Wet was to be devoted to the building of a strong holding-yard, a ”trap,” and a ”wing,” so as to be able to get going directly the Wet lifted; and knowing the run well, and the extent of the brumby mobs on it, Mac then and there set to work to calculate the ”sized mob” that could be ”got together after the Wet,” listening with interest to the account of our brumby encounters out east.