Part 56 (1/2)

”I shall come, too,” said Alice: ”that is,” added she, looking shyly at Sam, ”if you would be kind enough to take care of me, and let Mr.

Halbert and Jim do the riding. But I'm afraid I shall be sadly in your way.”

”If you don't go,” said Sam, ”I shall stay at home: now then!”

At this minute, the housekeeper came in bearing jugs and gla.s.ses.

”Eleanor,” said Jim, ”is Jerry round?”

”Yes, sir; he's coiled somewhere in the woodhouse,” said she.

”Just rouse him out and send him in.”

”Who is this Jerry who coils in woodhouses?” said Halbert.

”A tame black belonging to us. He is great at all sorts of hunting; I want to see if he can find us a flying doe for to-morrow.”

Jerry entered, and advanced with perfect self-possession towards the fire. He was a tall savage, with a big black beard, and wavy hair like a Cornishman. He was dressed in an old pair of dandy riding breeches of Jim's, which reached a short way below the knees, fitting closely, and a blue check s.h.i.+rt rolled up above the elbow showing his lean wiry forearm, seamed and scarred with spear wounds and bruises. He addressed n.o.body, but kept his eyes wandering all over the room; at length he said, looking at the ceiling,--

”Cobbon thirsty this fellow: you got a drop of brandy?”

”Jerry,” said Jim, having produced the brandy, ”you make a light kangaroo.”

”All about plenty kangaroo,” said Jerry.

”Yowi; but mine want it big one flying doe.”

”Ah-h-h! Mine make a light flying doe along a stockyard this morning; close by, along a fent, you see!”

”That'll do,” says Jim. ”We'll be up round the old stockyard after breakfast to-morrow. You, Jerry, come with us.”

It was a fresh breezy autumn morning in April, when the four sallied forth, about nine o'clock, for their hunt. The old stockyard stood in the bush, a hundred yards from the corner of the big paddock fence, and among low rolling ranges and gullies, thickly timbered with gum, cherry, and sheoak: a thousand parrots flew swiftly in flocks, whistling and screaming from tree to tree, while wattled-birds and numerous other honeyeaters cl.u.s.tered on the flowering basksias. The spurwinged plover and the curlew ran swiftly among the gra.s.s, and on a tall dead tree white c.o.c.katoos and blue cranes watched the intruders curiously.

Alice and Sam rode together soberly, and before them were Halbert and Jim, just up, ready for the chase. Before them, again, was the active blackfellow, holding the dogs in a leash,--two tall hounds, bred of foxhound and greyhound, with a dash of colley.

A mob of kangaroos crosses their path, but they are all small; so the dogs, though struggling fiercely, are still held tight by Jerry: now he crosses a little ridge before them and looks down into the gully beyond, holding up his hand.

The two young men gather up their reins and settle themselves in their seats. ”Now, Halbert,” says Jim, ”sit fast and mind the trees.”

They ride up to the blackfellow; through the low wattles, they can see what is in the gully before them, though the dogs cannot.

”Baal, flying doe this one,” says Jerry in a whisper. ”Old man this fellow, cobbon matong, mine think it.”

A great six-foot kangaroo was standing about two hundred yards from them, staring stupidly about him.

”Let go, Jerry,” said Jim. The dogs released; sprang forward, and, in an instant, saw their quarry, which, with a loud puff of alarm, bounded away up the opposite slope at full speed, taking twenty feet at each spring.

Halbert and Jim dashed off after the dogs, who had got a good start of them, and were laying themselves out to their work right gallantly; Sam's dog, Fly, slightly leading. Both dogs were close on the game, and Halbert said,--

”We are going to have a short run, I'm afraid.”

”Talk about that twenty minutes hence,” said Jim, settling to his work.