Part 15 (1/2)
BY
J. S. PONDER
”I say, Dora, can't we get up some special excitement for sister Maggie, seeing she is to be here for Christmas? I fancy she will, in her home inexperience, expect a rather jolly time spending Christmas in this forsaken spot. I am afraid that my letters home, in which I coloured things up a bit, are to blame for that,” my husband added ruefully.
”What can we do, Jack?” I asked. ”I can invite the Dunbars, the Connors and the Sutherlands over for a dance, and you can arrange for a kangaroo-hunt the following day. That is the usual thing when special visitors come, isn't it?”
”Yes,” he moodily replied, ”that about exhausts our programme. Nothing very exciting in that. I say, how would it do to take the fangs out of a couple of black snakes and put them in her bedroom, so as to give her the material of a thrilling adventure to narrate when she goes back to England?”
”That would never do,” I protested, ”you might frighten her out of her wits. Remember she is not strong, and spare her everything except very innocent adventures. Besides, snakes are such loathsome beasts.”
”How would it do, then, to give a big Christmas feast to the blacks?” he hazarded.
”Do you think she would like that?” I asked doubtfully. ”Remember how awfully dirty and savage-looking they are.”
”Oh, we would try and get them to clean up a bit, and come somewhat presentable,” he cheerfully replied. ”And, Dora,” he continued, ”I think the idea is a good one. Sister Maggie is the Hon. Secretary or something of the Missionary Society connected with her Church, and in the thick of all the 'soup and blanket clubs' of the district. She will just revel at the chance of administering to the needs of genuine savages.”
”If you think so, you had better try and get the feast up,” I resignedly replied; ”but I do wish our savages were a little less filthy.”
Such was the origin of our Christmas feast to the blacks last year, of which I am about to tell you.
My husband, John MacKenzie, was the manager and part proprietor of a large sheep-station in the Murchison district of Western Australia, and sister Maggie was his favourite sister. A severe attack of pneumonia had left her so weak that the doctors advised a sea voyage to Australia, to recuperate her strength--a proposition which she hailed with delight, as it would give her the opportunity of seeing her brother in his West Australian home. My husband, of course, was delighted at the prospect of seeing her again, while I too welcomed the idea of meeting my Scottish sister-in-law, with whom I had much charming correspondence, but had never met face to face.
As the above conversation shows, my husband's chief care was to make his sister's visit bright and enjoyable--no easy task in the lonely back-blocks where our station was, and where the dreary loneliness and deadly monotony of the West Australian bush reaches its climax. Miles upon miles of uninteresting plains, covered with the usual gums and undergrowth, surrounded us on all sides; beautiful, indeed, in early spring, when the wealth of West Australian wild flowers--unsurpa.s.sed for loveliness by those of any other country--enriched the land, but at other times painfully unattractive and monotonous.
Except kangaroos, snakes, and lizards, animal life was a-wanting. Bird and insect life, too, was hardly to be seen, and owing to the absence of rivers and lakes, aquatic life was unknown.
The silent loneliness of the bush is so oppressive and depressing that men new to such conditions have gone mad under it when living alone, and others almost lose their power of intelligent speech.
Such were hardly the most cheerful surroundings for a young convalescent girl, and so I fully shared Jack's anxiety as to how to provide healthy excitement during his sister's stay.
Preparations for the blacks' Christmas feast were at once proceeded with. A camp of aboriginals living by a small lakelet eighteen miles off was visited, and the natives there were informed of a great feast that was to be given thirty days later, and were told to tell other blacks to come too, with their wives and piccaninnies.
[Sidenote: A large order]
Orders were sent to the nearest town, fifty-three miles off, for six cases of oranges, a gross of gingerbeer, and all the dolls, penknives and tin trumpets in stock; also (for Jack got wildly extravagant over his project) for fifty cotton s.h.i.+rts, and as many pink dresses of the readymade kind that are sold in Australian stores. These all came about a fortnight before Christmas, and at the same time our expected visitor arrived.
She at once got wildly enthusiastic when my husband told her of his plan, and threw herself into the preparations with refres.h.i.+ng energy.
She and I, and the native servants we had, toiled early and late, working like galley-slaves making bread-stuffs for the feast. Knowing whom I had to provide for, I confined myself to making that Australian standby--damper, and simple cakes, but Maggie produced a wonderfully elaborate and rich bun for their delectation, which she called a ”Selkirk bannock,” and which I privately thought far too good for them.
Well, the day came. Such a Christmas as you can only see and feel in Australia; the sky cloudless, the atmosphere breezeless, the temperature one hundred and seven degrees in the shade. With it came the aboriginals in great number, accompanied, as they always are, by crowds of repulsive-looking mongrel dogs.
Maggie was greatly excited, and not a little indignant, at seeing many of the gins carrying their dogs in their arms, and letting their infants toddle along on trembling legs hardly strong enough to support their little bodies, and much astonished when, on her proposing to send all their dogs away, I told her that this would result in the failure of the intended feast, as they would sooner forsake their children than their mongrels, and if the dogs were driven away, every native would indignantly accompany them.
Maggie, with a sigh and a curious look on her face that told of the disillusioning of sundry preconceived English ideas regarding the n.o.ble savages, turned to look at Jack, and her lips soon twitched with merriment as she listened to him masterfully arranging the day's campaign.
[Sidenote: A Magnificent Bribe]