We of the Never Never

J >> Jeanie Mrs. Aeneas Gunn >> We of the Never Never

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

A woman with a swag sounds homeless enough to Australian ears,
but Dan, with his habit of looking deep into the heart of things,
"didn't exactly see where the homelessness came in."

We had finished supper, and the Maluka stretching himself luxuriously
in the firelight, made a nest in the warm leaves for me to settle
down in. "You're right, Dan," he said, after a short silence,
"when I come to think of it; I don't exactly see myself where
the homelessness comes in. A bite and a sup and a faithful dog,
and a guidwife by a glowing hearth, and what more is needed to make
a home. Eh, Tiddle'ums?"

Tiddle'ums having for some time given the whole of her heart to
the Maluka, nestled closer to him aud Dan gave an appreciative
chuckle, and pulled Sool'em's ears. The conversation promised
to suit him exactly.

"Never got farther than the dog myself," he said. "Did I Sool'em,
old girl? "But Sool'em becoming effusive there was a pause until
she could be persuaded that "nobody wanted none of her licking
tricks." As she subsided Dan went on with his thoughts uninterrupted:
"I've seen others at the guidwife business, though, and it didn't
seem too bad, but I never struck it in a camp before. There was
Mrs. Bob now. You've heard me tell of her? I don't know how it was,
but while she was out at the "Downs" things seemed different.
She never interfered and we went on just the same, but everything
seemed different somehow."

The Maluka suggested that perhaps he had "got farther than the
dog" without knowing it, and the idea appearing to Dan, he "reckoned
it must have been that." But his whimsical mood had slipped away,
as it usually did when his thoughts strayed to Mrs. Bob; and he went
on earnestly, "She was the right sort if ever there was one. I know
'em, and she was one of 'em. When you were all right you told her
yarns, and she'd enjoy 'em more'n you would yourself, which is saying
something; but when you were off the track a bit you told her
other things, and she'd heave you on again. See her with the sick
travellers!" And then he stopped unexpectedly as his voice became
thick and husky.

Camp-fire conversations have a trick of coming to an abrupt end
without embarrassing any one. As Dau sat looking into the fire,
with his thoughts far away in the past, the Maluka began to croon
contentedly at "Home, Sweet Home," and, curled up in the warm,
sweet nest of leaves, I listened to the crooning, and, watching the
varying expression of Dan's face, wondered if Mrs. Bob had any
idea of the bright memories she had left behind her in the bush.
Then as the Maluka crooned on, everything but the crooning
became vague and indistinct, and, beginning also to see into the
heart of things, I learned that when a woman finds love and
comradeship out-bush, little else is needed to make even the
glowing circle of a camp fire her home-circle.

Without any warning the Maluka's mood changed, " There is nae luck
aboot her house, there is nae luck at a'," he shouted lustily,
and Dan, waking from his reverie with a start, rose to the tempting
bait.

"No LUCK about HER house!" he said. "It was Mrs. Bob that had no
luck. She struck a good, comfortable, well-furnished house first
go off, and never got an ounce of educating. She was chained to
that house as surely as ever a dog was chained to its kennel. But
it'll never come to that with the missus. Something's bound to
happen to Johnny, just to keep her from ever having a house. Poor
Johnny, though," he added, warming up to the subject. "It's hard
luck for him. He's a decent little chap. We'll miss him"; and he
shook his head sorrowfully, and looked round for applause.

The Maluka said it seemed a pity that Johnny had been allowed to go
to his fate; but Dan was in his best form.

"It wouldn't have made any difference," he said tragically.
"He'd have got fever if he'd stayed on, or a tree would have fallen
on him. He's doomed if the missus keeps him to his contract."

"Oh, well! He'll die in a good cause," I said cheerfully
and Dan's gravity deserted him.

"You're the dead finish!" he chuckled, and without further ceremony,
beyond the taking off his boots, rolled into his mosquito net
for the night.

We heard nothing further from him until that strange rustling
hour of the night that hour half-way between midnight and dawn,
when all nature stirs in its sleep, and murmurs drowsily in answer
to some mysterious call.

Nearly all bushmen who sleep with the warm earth for a bed will
tell of this strange wakening moment, of that faint touch of
half-consciousness, that whispering stir, strangely enough, only
perceptible to the sleeping children of the bush one of the
mysteries of nature that no man can fathom, one of the delicate
threads with which the Wizard of Never-Never weaves his spells.
"Is all well my children?" comes the cry from the watchman of
the night; and with a gentle stirring the answer floats back "All is
well."

Softly the pine forest rustled with the call and the answer; and as
the camp roused to its dim half-consciousness, Dan murmured sleepily,
"Sool'em, old girl" then after a vigorous rustling among the leaves
(Sool'em's tail returning thanks for the attention), everything
slipped back into unconsciousness until the dawn. As the first
grey streak of dawn filtered through the pines, a long-drawn out
cry of"Day-li-ght" Dan's camp reveille rolled out of his net,
and Dan rolled out after it, with even less ceremony than he had
rolled in.

On our way back to the homestead, Dan suggesting that the "missus
might like to have a look at the dining-room, "we turned into
the towering timber that borders the Reach, and for the next
two hours rode on through soft, luxurious shade; and all the while
the fathomless spring-fed Reach lay sleeping on our left.

The Reach always slept; for nearly twelve miles it lay, a swaying
garland of heliotrope and purple waterlilies, gleaming through
a graceful fringe of palms and rushes and scented shrubs, touched
here and there with shafts of sunlight, and murmuring and rustling
with an attendant host of gorgeous butterflies and flitting
birds and insects.

Dan looked on the scene with approving eyes. "Not a bad place to ride
through, is it?" he said. But gradually as we rode on a vague
depression settled down upon us, and when Dan finally decided he
"could do with a bit more sunshine," we followed him into
the blistering noontide glare with almost a sigh of relief.

It is always so. These wondrous waterways have little part in that
mystical holding power of the Never-Nexer. They are only pleasant
places to ride through and leave behind; for their purring slumberous
beauty is vaguely suggestive of the beauty of a sleeping tiger:
a sleeping tiger with deadly fangs and talons hidden under a wonder
of soft allurement; and when exiles in the towns sit and dream
their dreams are all of stretches of scorched grass and quivering
sun-flecked shade.

In the honest sunlight Dan's spirits rose, and as I investigated
various byways he asked "where the sense came in tying-up a dog
that was doing no harm running loose." "It waren't as though she'd
taken to chivying cattle," he added, as, a mob of inquisitive steers
trotting after us, I hurried Roper in among the riders; and then
he wondered "how she'll shape at her first muster."

Ihe rest of the morning he filled in with tales of cattle-musters
tales of stampedes and of cattle rushing over camps and "mincing
chaps into saw-dust " until I was secretly pleased that the coming
muster was for horses.

But Jack's reprieve was to last a little longer. When all was
ready for the muster, word came in that outside blacks were in all
along the river, and the Maluka deciding that the risks were too
great for the missus in long-grass country, the plans were altered,
and I was left at the homestead in the Dandy's care.

"It's a ill wind that blows nobody any good," the Maluka said,
drawing attention to Jack's sudden interest in the proceedings.

Apart from sterling worth of character, the Daudy was all contrast
to the Quiet Stockman: quick, alert, and sociable, and brimming over
with quiet tact and thoughtfulness, and the Maluka knew I was
in good hands. But the Dandy had his work to attend to; and after
watching till the bush had swallowed up the last of the pack-team,
I went to the wood-heap for company and consolation. Had the Darwin
ladies seen me then, they would have been justified in saying,
"I told you so."

There was plenty of company at the wood-heap, but the consolation
was doubtful in character. Goggle-Eye and three other old black
fellows were gossiping there, and after a peculiar grin of welcome,
they expressed great fear lest the homestead should be attacked
by "outside" blacks during the Maluka's absence. "Might it,"
they said, and offered to sleep in the garden near me, as no doubt
"missus would be frightened fellow" to sleep alone.

"Me big mob frightened fellow longa wild black fellow," Goggle-Eye
said, rather overdoing the part; and the other old rascals giggled
nervously, and said "My word!" But sly, watchful glances made me
sure they were only probing to find if fear had kept the missus
at the homestead. Of course, if it had, a little harmless bullying
for tobacco could be safely indulged in when the Dandy was busy
at the yards.

Fortunately, Dan's system of education provided for all emergencies;
and remembering his counsel to "die rather than own to a black
fellow that you were frightened of anything," I refused their offer
of protection, and declared so emphatically that there was nothing
in heaven or earth that I was afraid to tackle single-handed,
that I almost believed it myself.

There was no doubt they believed it, for they murmured in admiration
"My word! Missus big mob cheeky fellow all right." But in their
admiration they forgot that they were supposed to be quaking
with fear themselves, and took no precautions against the pretended
attack. "Putting themselves away properly," the Dandy said
when I told him about it.

"It was a try-on all right," he added. "Evidence was against you,
but they struck an unexpected snag. You'll have to keep it up,
though"; and deciding "there was nothing in the yarn," the Dandy
slept in the Quarters, and I in the House, leaving the doors
and windows open as usual.

When this was reported at dawn by Billy Muck, who had taken no
part in the intimidation scheme, a wholesome awe crept into
the old men's admiration; for a black fellow is fairly logical
in these matters.

To him, the man who crouches behind barred doors is a coward,
and may be attacked without much risk, while he who relies only
on his own strength appears as a Goliath defying the armies of
a nation, and is best left alone, lest he develop into a Samson
annihilating Philistines. Fortunately for my reputation, only
the Dandy knew that we considered open doors easier to get out of
than closed ones, and that my revolver was to be fired to call him
from the Quarters if anything alarming occurred.

"You'll have to live up to your reputation now," the Dandy said,
and, brave in the knowledge that he was within cooee, I ordered
the old men about most unmercifully, leaving little doubt in
their minds that "missus was big mob cheeky fellow."

They were most deferential all day, and at sundown I completed
my revenge by offering these rulers of a nation the insult of
a woman's protection. "If you are still afraid of the wild blacks,
you may sleep near me to-night," I said, and apologised for
not having made the offer for the night before.

"You've got 'em on toast," the Dandy chuckled as the offer was
refused with a certain amount of dignity.

The lubras secretly enjoyed the discomfiture of their lords
and masters, and taking me into their confidence, made it very plain
that a lubra's life at times is anything but a happy one;
particularly if "me boy all day krowl (growl)." As for the lords
and masters themselves, the insult rankled so that they spent
the next few days telling great and valiant tales of marvellous
personal daring, hoping to wipe the stain of cowardice from their
characters. Fortunately for themselves, Billy Muck and Jimmy
had heen absent from the wood-heap, and, therefore, not having
committed themselves on the subject of wild blacks, bragged excessively.
Had they been present, knowing the old fellows well, I venture
to think there would have been no intimidation scheme floated.

As the Dandy put it, "altogether the time passed pleasantly,"
and when the Maluka returned we were all on the best of terms,
having reached the phase of friendship when pet names are permissible.
The missus had hecome "Gadgerrie" to the old men and certain
privileged lubras. What it means I do not know, excepting that
it seemed to imply fellowship. Perhaps it meant "old pal" or "mate,"
or, judging from the tone of voice that accompanied it, "old girl,"
but more probably, like "Maluka," untranslatable. The Maluka was
always "Maluka" to the old men, and to some of us who imitated them.

Dan came in the day after the Maluka, and, hearing of our "affairs,"
took all the credit of it to himself.

"Just shows what a bit of educating'll do," he said. "The Dandy
would have had a gay old time of it if I hadn't put you up to their
capers"; and I had humbly to acknowledge the truth of all he said.

"I don't say you're not promising well," he added, satisfied with
my humility. "If Johnny'll only stay away long enough, we'll
have you educated up to doing without a house."

Within a week it seemed as though Johnny was aiding and
abetting Dan in his scheme of education; for he sent in word
that his "cross-cut saw," or something equally important, had
doubled up on him," and he was going back to Katherine to
"see about it straight off."

CHAPTER IX

Before the mustered horses were drafted out, every one at the homestead,
blacks, whites, and Chinese, went up to the stockyard to "have
a look at them."

Dan was in one of his superior moods. "Let's see if she knows
anything about horses, " he said condescendingly, as the Quiet
Stockman opened the mob up a little to show the animals to better
advantage. "Show us your fancy in this lot, missus." "Certainly,"
I said, affecting particular knowledge of the subject, and Jack
wheeled with a quick, questioning look, suddenly aware that,
after all, a woman MIGHT be only a fellow-man; and as I glanced
from one beautiful animal to another he watched keenly, half expectant
and half incredulous.

It did not take long to choose. ln the foreground stood a magnificent
brown colt, that caught and held the attention, as it watched
every movement with ears shot forward, and nostrils quivering;
and as I pointed it out Jack's boyish face lit up with surprise
and pleasure.

"Talk of luck!" Dan cried, as usual withholding the benefit of
the doubt. "You've picked Jack's fancy."

But it was Jack himself who surprised every one, for, forgetting
his monosyllables, he said with an indescribable ring of fellowship
in his voice, "She's picked out the best in the whole mob,"
and turned back to his world amoug the horses with his usual
self-possession.

Dan's eyes opened wide. "Whatever's come to Jack?" he said;
but seemed puzzled at the Maluka's answer that he was "only getting
educated." The truth is, that every man has his vulnerable point,
and Jack's was horses.

When the mob had been put through the yards, all the unbroken
horses were given into the Quiet Stockmas's care, and for the next
week or two the stockyard became the only place of real interest;
for the homestead, waiting for the Wet to lift, had settled down
to store lists, fencing, and stud books.

It was not the horses alone that were of interest at the yards;
the calm, fearless, self-reliant man who was handling them was
infinitely more so. Nothing daunted or disheartened him; and in
those hours spent on the stockyard fence, in the shade of a
spreading tree, I learnt to know the Quiet Stockman for the man he
was.

If any one would know the inner character of a fellow man, let
him put him to horse-breaking, and he will soon know the best or
the worst of him. Let him watch him handling a wild, unbroken
colt, and if he is steadfast of purpose, just, brave, and
true-hearted, it will all be revealed; but if he lacks self-restraint,
or is cowardly, shifty, or mean-spirited, he will do well to avoid
the test, for the horse will betray him.

Jack's horse-breaking was a battle for supremacy of mind over mind,
not mind over matter a long course of careful training and schooling,
in which nothing was broken, but all bent to the control of a master.
To him no two horses were alike; carefully he studied their
temperaments, treating each horse according to its nature using
the whip freely with some, and with others not at all; coercing,
coaxing, or humouring, as his judgment directed. Working always
for intelligent obedience, not cowed stupidity, he appeared at times
to be almost reasoning with the brute mind, as he helped it to solve
the problems of its schooling; penetrating dull stupidity with
patient reiteration, or wearing down stubborn opposition with steady,
unwavering persistence, and always rewarding ultimate obedience
with gentle kindness and freedom.

Step by step, the training proceeded. Submission first, then an
establishment of perfect trust and confidence between horse and
man, without which nothing worth having could be attained.

After that, in orderly succession the rest followed: toleration
of handling, reining, mouthing, leading on foot, and on horseback
and in due time saddling and mounting. One thing at a time
and nothing new until the old was so perfected that when all was
ready for the mounting from a spectacular point of view the mounting
was generally disappointing. Just a little rearing and curvetting,
then a quiet, trusting acceptance of this new order of things.

Half a dozen horses were in hand at once, and, as with children
at school, some quickly got ahead of the others, and every day
the interest grew keener and keener in the individual character
of the horses. At the end of a week Jack announced that he was
"going to catch the brown colt," next day. "It'll be worth seeing,"
he said; and from the Quiet Stockman that was looked upon as a
very pressing invitation.

From the day of the draughting he had ceased altogether to avoid
me, and in the days that followed had gradually realised that
a horse could be more to a woman than a means of locomotion;
and now no longer drew the line at conversations.

When we went up to the yards in the morning, the brown colt was
in a small yard by itself, and Jack was waiting at the gate,
ready for its "catching."

With a laugh at the wild rush with which the colt avoided him,
he shut himself into the yard with it, and moved quietly about,
sometimes towards it and sometimes from it; at times standing
still and looking it over, and at other times throwing a rope or
sack carelessly down, waiting until his presence had become
familiar, and the colt had learned that there was nothing to fear
from it.

There was a curious calmness in the man's movements, a fearless
repose that utterly ignored the wild rushes, and as a natural
result they soon ceased; and within just a minute or two
the beautiful creature was standing still, watching in quivering
wonder.

Gradually a double rope began to play in the air with ever-increasing
circles, awakening anew the colt's fears; and as these in turn
subsided, without any apparent effort a long running noose flickered
out from the circling rope, and, falling over the strong young head,
lay still on the arching neck.

The leap forward was terrific; but the rope brought the colt up
with a jerk; and in the instant's pause that followed the Quiet
Stockman braced himself for the mad rearing plunges that were coming.
There was literally only an instant's pause, and then with a
clatter of hoofs the plungings began, and were met with muscles
of iron, and jaw set like a vice, as the man, with heels dug into
the ground dragged back on the rope, yielding as much as his
judgment allowed--enough to ease the shocks, but not an inch
by compulsion.

Twice the rearing, terrified creature circled round him and then
the rope began to shorten to a more workable length. There was
no haste, no fiurry. Surely and steadily the rope shortened (but
the horse went to the man not the man to the horse; that was to
come later). With the shortening of the rope the compelling power
of the man's will forced itself into the brute mind, and, bending
to that will, the wild leaps and plungings took on a vague suggestion
of obedience--a going WITH the rope, not against it; that was all.
An erratic going, perhaps, but enough to tell that the horse had
acknowledged a master. That was all Jack asked for at first, and,
satisfied, he relaxed his muscles, and as the rope slackened
the horse turned and faced him; and the marvel was how quickly
it was all over.

But something was to follow, that once seen could never be
forgotten the advance of the man to the horse.

With barely perceptible movement, the man's hands stole along
the rope at a snail's pace. Never hurrying never stopping,
they did on, the colt watching them as though mesmerised.
When within reach of the dilated nostrils, they paused and waited,
and slowly the sensitive head came forward snuffing, more in
bewilderment than fear at this new wonder, and as the dark
twitching muzzle brushed the hands, the head drew sharply back,
only to return again in a moment with greater confidence.

Three or four times the quivering nostrils came back to the hands
before they stirred, then one lifted slowly and lay on the muzzle,
warm and strong and comforting, while the other, creeping up
the rope, slipped on to the glossy neck, and the catching was over.

For a little while there was some gentle patting and fondling,
to a murmuring accompaniment of words the horse standing still
with twitching ears the while. Then came the test of the victory--
the test of the man's power and the creature's intelligence.
The horse was to go to the man, at the man's bidding alone, without
force or coercion. "The better they are the sooner you learn 'em
that," was one of Jack's pet theories, while his proudest boast--
his only boast--perhaps was that he'd "never been beaten on that yet."

"They have to come sooner or later if you stick at 'em,' he had said,
when I marvelled at first to see the great creatures come obediently
to the click of his tongue or fingers. So far in all his wide
experience the latest had been the third day. That, however, was
rare; more frequently it was a matter of hours, sometimes barely
an hour, while now and then--incredulous as it may seem to the layman--
only minutes.

Ten minutes before Jack put the brown colt to the test it had been
a wild, terrified, plunging creature, and yet, as he stepped back
to try its intelligence and submussion, his face was confident
and expectant.

Moving slowly backwards, he held out one hand the hand that had
proved all kindness and comfort and, snapping a finger and thumb,
clicked his tongue im a murmur of invitation.

The brown ears shot forward to attention at the sound, and as
the head reached out to investigate, the snapping fin,ers repeated
the invitation, and without hesitation the magnificent creature
went forward obediently until the hand was once more resting on
the dark muzzle.

The tmsting beauty of the surrender seemed to break some spell
that had held us silent since the beginning of the catching. "Oh,
Jack! Isn't he a beauty ?" I cried unconsciously putting my
admiration into a question.

But Jack no longer objected to questions. He turned towards us
with soft, shining eyes. "There's not many like him," he said,
pulling at one of the flexible ears. "You could learn him anything."
It seemed so, for after trying to solve the problem of the roller and
bit with his tongue when it was put into his mouth, he accepted
the mystery with quiet, intelligent trust; and as soon as he was
freed from it, almost courted further fondling. He would let no one
but Jack near him, though. When we entered the yard the ears
went back and the whites of the eyes showed. "No one but me for
a while," Jack said, with a strange ring of ownership in his
voice, telling that it is a good thing to have a horse that is yours,
and yours only.

Within a week "Brownie" was mounted, and ridden down to the House
for final inspection, before "going bush' to learn the art of
rounding up cattle. "He'll let you touch him now," Jack said;
and after a snuffing inquiry at my hands the beautiful creature
submitted to their caresses.

Dan looked at him with approving eyes. "To think she had the
luck to choose him too, out of all that crowd," he said.

"We always call it instinct, I think," the Maluka said teasingly,
twitting me on one of my pet theories, and the Dandy politely
suggested "It might be knowledge.'"

Then the Quiet Stockman gave his opinion, making it very clear
that he no longer felt that women had nothing in common winth
men. "It never is anything but instinct," he said, with quiet
decision in his voice. "No one ever learns horses.''

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19