We of the Never Never
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Jeanie Mrs. Aeneas Gunn >> We of the Never Never
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Six waggons, and about six months' hard travelling, in and out,
to provide a year's stores for three cattle stations and two
telegraph stations. It is not surprising that the freight per ton
was what it was--twenty-two pounds per ton for the Elsey, and
upwards of forty pounds for "inside." It is this freight that makes
the grocery bill such a big item on stations out-bush, where
several tons of storces are considered by no means a large order.
Close on the heels of the Fizzer came other travellers, with
the news that the horse teams had got going "and the Macs had
"pulled out" to the Four Mile. "Your trunks'll be along in no
time now, missus," one of them said. "They've got 'em all aboard."
The Dandy did some rapid calculations: "Ten miles a day on good
roads," he said: "one hundred and seventy miles. Tens into that
seventeen days. Give 'em a week over for unforeseen emergencies,
and call it four weeks." lt sounded quite cheerful and near
at hand, but a belated thunderstorm or two, and consequent bogs,
nearly doubled the four weeks.
Almost every day we heard news of the teams from the now constant
stream of travellers; and by the time the timber was all sawn
and carted to the house to fulfil the many promises there,
they were at the Katherine.
But if the teams were at the Katherine, so were the teamsters,
and so was the Pub; and when teamsters and a pub get together it
generally takes time to separate them, when that pub is the last
for over a thousand miles. One pub at the Katherine and another
at Oodnadatta and between them over a thousand miles of bush,
and desert and dust, and heat, and thirst. That, from a teamster's
point of view, is the Overland Route from Oodnadatta to the Katherine.
A pub had little attraction for the Sanguine Scot, and provided
he could steer the other Macs safely past the one at the Katherine,
there would be no delay there with the trunks; but the year's stores
were on the horse teams and the station, having learnt bitter
experience from the past, now sent in its own waggon for the bulk
of the stores, as soon as they were known to be at the Katherine;
and so the Dandy set off at once.
"You'll see me within a fortnight, bar accidents" he called back,
as the waggon lurched forward towards the slip-rails; and the pub
also having little attraction for the Dandy, we decided to expect
him, "bar accidents." For that matter, a pub had little attraction
for any of the Elsey men, the Quiet Stockman being a total
abstainer, and Dan knowing "how to behave himself," although he
owned to having "got a bit merry once or twice."
The Dandy out of sight, Johnny went back to his work, which
happened to be hammering the curves out of sheets of corrugated
iron.
"Now we shan't be long," he shouted, hammering vigorously, and when
I objected to the awful din, he reminded me, with a grin, that
it was "all in the good cause." When "smoothed out," as Johnny
phrased it, the iron was to be used for capping the piles that
the house was built upon, "to make them little white ants stay
at home."
"We'll smooth all your troubles out, if you give us time," he
shouted, returning to the hammering after his explanation with
even greater energy. But by dinnertime some one had waddled into
our lives who was to smooth most of the difficulties out of it, to
his own, and our complete satisfaction.
Just as Sam announced dinner a cloud of dust creeping along
the horizon attracted our attention.
"Foot travellers!" Dan decided; but something emerged out of the dust,
as it passed through the sliprails, that looked very like a huge
mould of white jelly on horse-back.
Directly it sighted us it rolled off the horse, whether intentionally
or unintentionally we could not say, and leaving the beast to the care
of chance, unfolded two short legs from somewhere and waddled
towards us--a fat, jovial Chinese John Falstaff.
"Good day, boss! Good day, missus! Good day, all about," he said
in cheerful salute, as he trundled towards us like a ship's barrel
in full sail. "Me new cook, me--" and then Sam appeared and towed
him into port.
"Well, I'm blest!" Dan exclaimed, staring after him. "What HAVE
we struck?"
But Johnny knew, as did most Territorians. "You've struck Cheon,
that's all," he said. "Talk of luck! He's the jolliest old
josser going."
The "jolliest old josser" seemed difficult to repress; for already
he had eluded Sam, and, reappearing in the kitchen doorway, waddled
across the thoroughfare towards us.
"Me new cook!" he repeated, going on from where he had left off.
"Me Cheon!" and then, in queer pidgin-English, he solemnly
rolled out a few of his many qualifications:
"Me savey all about," he chanted. "Me savey cook 'im, and gard'in',
and milk 'im, and chuckie, and fishin' and shootin' wild duck."
On and on he chanted through a varied list of accomplishments,
ending up with an application for the position of cook. "Me sit down?
Eh boss?" he asked, moon-faced and serious.
"Please yourself!" the Maluka laughed, and with a flash of
white teeth and an infectious chuckle Cheon laughed and nodded
back; then, still chuckling, he waddled away to the kitchen and
took possession there, while we went to our respective dinners,
little guessing that the truest-hearted, most faithful,
most loyal old "josser" had waddled into our lives.
CHAPTER XI
Cheon rose at cock-crow ("fowl-sing-out," he preferred to call it),
and began his duties by scornfully refusing Sam's bland offer of
instruction in the " ways of the homestead.
"Me savey all about," he said, with a majestic wave of his hands,
after expressing supreme contempt for Sam's caste and ways; so Sam
applied for his cheque, shook hands all round, and withdrew smilingly.
Sam's account being satisfactorily squared," Cheon's name was then
formally entered in the station books as cook and gardener, at
twenty-five shillings a week. That was the only vacancy he ever
filled in the books; but in our life at the homestead he filled almost
every vacancy that required filling, and there were many.
There was nothing he could not and did not do for our good,
and it was well that he refused to be instructed in anybody's ways,
for his own were delightfully disobedient and unexpected and
entertaining. Not only had we "struck the jolliest old josser going,"
but a born ruler and organiser into the bargain. He knew best what
was good for us, and told us so, and, meekly bending to his will,
our orders became mere suggestions to be entertained and carried
out if approved of by Cheon, or dismissed as "silly-fellow" with
a Podsnapian wave of his arm if they in no way appealed to him.
Full of wrath for Sam's ways, and bubbling over with trundling
energy, he calmly appropriated the whole staff, as well as Jimmy,
Billy Muck, and the rejected, and within a week had put backbone
into everything that lacked it, from the water-butts to old Jimmy.
The first two days were spent in a whirlwind of dust and rubbish,
turned out from unguessed-at recesses, and Cheon's jovial humour
suiting his helpers to a nicety, the rubbish was dealt with amid
shouts of delight and enjoyment; until Jimmy, losing his head
in his lightness of heart, dug Cheon in the ribs, and, waving
a stick over his head, yelled in mock fierceness: "Me wild-fellow,
black fellow. Me myall-fellow."
Then Cheon came out in a new role. Without a moment's hesitation
his arms and legs appeared to fly out all together in Jimmy's
direction, completely doubling him up.
"Me myall-fellow, too," Cheon said calmly, master of himself
and the situation. Then, chuckling at Jimmy's discomfiture,
he went on with his work, while his helpers stared open-eyed
with amazement; an infuriated Chinese catherine-wheel being
something new in the experience ot a black fellow. It was a
wholesome lesson, though, and no one took liberties with Cheon
again.
The rubbish disposed of, leaking water-butts, and the ruins
of collapsed water-butts, were carried to the billabong, swelled
in the water, hammered and hooped back into steadfast, reliable
water-butts, and trundled along to their places in a merry, joyous
procession.
With Cheon's hand on the helm, cream rose on the milk from
somewhere. The meat no longer turned sour. An expert fisherman
was discovered among the helpers--one Bob by name. Cheon's
shot-gun appeared to have a magnetic attraction for wild duck.
A garden sprang up as by magic, grasshoppers being literally chased
off the vegetables. The only thing we lacked was butter; and after
a week of order and cleanliness and dazzlingly varied menus, we
wondered how we had ever existed without them.
It was no use trying to wriggle from under Cheon's foot once he
put it down. At the slightest neglect of duty, lubras or boys were
marshalled and kept relentlessly to their work until he was
satisfied; and woe betide the lubras who had neglected to wash
hands, and pail and cow, before sitting down to their milking.
The very fowls that laid out-bush gained nothing by their subtlety.
At the faintest sound of a cackle, a dosing lubra was roused by the
point of Cheon's toe, as he shouted excitedly above her: " Fowl
sing out! That way! Catch 'im egg! Go on!" pointing out the
direction with much pantomime; and as the egg-basket filled to
overflowing, he either chuckled with glee or expressed further
contempt for Sam's ways.
But his especial wrath was reserved for the fowl-roosts over his
sleeping quarters. "What's 'er matter! Fowl sit down close up
kitchen! " he growled in furious gutturals, whenever his eyes
rested on them; and as soon as time permitted he mounted
to the roof and, boiling over with righteous indignation,
hurled the offending roosts into space.
New roosts were then nailed to the branches of a spreading
coolibar tree, a hundred yards or so to the north of the buildings,
the trunk encircled with zinc to prevent snakes or wild cats from
climbing into the roosts; a movable ladder staircase made, to be
used by the fowls at bedtime, and removed as soon as they were
settled for the night, lest the cats or snakes should make
unlawful use of it (Cheon always foresaw every contingency);
and finally, "boys" and lubras were marshalled to wean the
fowls from their old love.
But the weaning took time, and proved most entertaining;
and while the fowls were being taught by bitter experience to
bend to Cheon's will, the homestead pealed with shoutings and
laughter.
Every evening the fun commenced about sundown, and the entire
community assembled to watch it; for it was worth watching--
fowls dodged, and scurried, and squawked, as the staff and the rejected,
under Cheon's directions, chivied and danced and screamed between
them and their desire, the lubras cheering to the echo every time
one of the birds gave in, and stalked, cackling and indignant,
up the ladder into the branches of the coolibar; or pursuing
runaways that had outwitted them, in shrieking, pell-mell disorder,
while Cheon, fat and perspiring, either shouted orders and cheered
lustily, bounded wrathfully alter both runaways and lubras,
or collapsed, doubled up with uncontrollable laughter, at the squawk
of amazement from fowls which, having gained their old haunt,
had found Jimmy there waiting to receive them. As for ourselves,
I doubt if we ever enjoyed anything better. A simple thing, perhaps,
to amuse grown-up white folk--a fat, perspiring Chinaman, and eight
or ten lubras chivying fowls; but it is this enjoyment of simple
things that makes life in the Never- Never all it is.
Busy as he was, Cheon found time to take the missus also under
his ample wing, and protect her from everything--even herself.
"Him too muchee little fellow," he said to the Maluka, to explain
his attitude towards his mistress; and the Maluka, chuckling,
shamefully encouraged him in his ways.
Every suggestion the missus made was received with an amused:
"No good that way, missus! Me savey all about." Her methods
with lubras were openly disapproved, and her gardening ridiculed
to all comers: "White woman no good, savey gard'n," he reiterated,
but was fated to apologise handsomely in that direction later on.
Still, in other things the white woman was honoured as became
her position as never Sam had honoured her. Without any
discrimination, Sam had summoned all at meal-times with a
booming teamster's bell, thus placing the gentry on a level with the
Quarters; but as Cheon pointed out, what could be expected of one
of Sam's ways and caste? It was all very well to ring a peremptory
bell for the Quarters--its caste expected to receive and obey
orders; but gentry should be graciously notified that all was
ready, when it suited their pleasure to eat; and from the day
of Sam's departure, the House was honoured with a sing-song:
"Din-ner! Boss! Mis-sus!" at midday, with changes rung at
"Bress-fass" or "Suppar"; and no written menu being at its service,
Cheon supplied a chanted one, so that before we sat down to
the first course we should know all others that were to come.
The only disadvantage we could associate with his coming was
that by some means Jimmy's Nellie had got on to the staff. No one
seemed to know when or how it had happened, but she was there,
firmly established working better than any one else, and Dan was
demanding payment of his bets.
Cheon would not hear of her dismissal. She was his "right
hand," he declared; and so I interviewed Nellie and stated my
objections in cold, brutal English, only to hate myself the next
moment; for poor Nellie, with a world of longing in her eyes,
professed herself more than willing to wear "good fellow clothes"
if she could get any.
"Missus got big mob," she suggested as a hint; and, although
that was a matter of opinion and comparison, in remorse I
recklessly gave her my only bath wrapper, and for weeks went to
the bath in a mackintosh.
Nellie was also willing to use as much carbolic soap as the
station could afford; but as the smoking and spitting proved more
difficult to cope with, and I had discovered that I could do all
the "housework " in less time than it took to superintend it,
I made Cheon a present of the entire staff, only keeping a lien
on it for the washing and scrubbing. The lubras, however,
refused to be taken off my visitor's list and Cheon insisting
on them waiting on the missus while she was attending
to the housework, no one gained or lost by the transfer.
Cheon had a scheme all his own for dealing with the servant
question: the Maluka should buy a little Chinese maiden to wait
on the missus. Cheon knew of one in Darwin, going cheap, for ten
pounds, his--COUSIN's child. "A real bargain!" he assured the Maluka,
finding him lacking in enthusiasm; " docile, sweet, and attentive,
and "yes, Cheon was sure of that" devoted to the missus," and
also a splendid pecuniary investment (Cheon always had an eye
on the dollars). Being only ten years of age, for six years
she could serve the missus, and would then bring at least eighty
pounds in the Chinese matrimonial market in Darwin--Chinese wives
being scarce there. If she grew up moon-faced, and thus "good-looking,"
there semed no end to the wealth she would bring us.
It took time to convince Cheon of the abolition of slavery throughout
the Empire, and even when convinced, he was for buying the treasure
and saying nothing about it to the Governor. It was not likely
he would come in person to the Elsey, he argued, and, unless told,
would know nothing about it.
But another fat, roundabout, roly-poly of humanity was to settle
the servant question finally, within a day or two. "Larrikin"
had been visiting foreign parts at Wandin, towards the west,
and returning with a new wife, stolen from one "Jacky Big-Foot,"
presented her to the missus.
"Him Rosy!" he said, thus introducing his booty and without further
ceremony Rosy requested permission to "sit down" on the staff.
Like Cheon she carried her qualifications on the tip of her tongue:
"Me savey scrub 'im, and sweep 'im, and wash 'im, and blue 'im,
and starch 'im," she said glibly, with a flash of white teeth
against a babyish pink tongue. She was wearing a freshly washed
bright blue dress, hanging loosely from her shoulders, and looked
so prettily jolly, clean, capable, and curly-headed, that I
immediately made her housemaid and Head of the Staff.
"Great Scott!" the Maluka groaned, "that makes four of them
at it! "But Rosy had appealed to me and I pointed out that it was
a chance not to be missed and that she was worth the other three
all put together. "Life will be a perennial picnic," I said,
"with Rosy and Cheon at the head of affairs "; and for once
I prophesied correctly.
Rosy, having been brought up among white folk, proved an adept
little housemaid and Cheon looked with extreme favour upon her,
and held her up as a bright and shining example to Jimmy's Nellie.
But the person Cheon most approved of at the homestead was Johnny;
for not only had Johnny helped him in many of his wild efforts
at carpentry, but was he not working in the good cause?
"What's 'er matter, missus only got one room? "Cheon had said,
angry with circumstances, and daily and hourly he urged Johnny
to work quicker.
"What's the matter indeed!" Johnny echoed, mimicking his furious
gutturals, and sawing, planing, and hammering, with untiring energy,
pointed out that he was doing his best to give her more.
Finding the progress slow with only one man at work, Cheon suggested
the Maluka might lend a hand in his spare time (station books
being considered recreation); and when Dan came in with a mob
of cattle from the Reach country, he hinted that cattle could wait,
and that Dan could employ his time better.
But Dan also was out of patience with circumstances, and growled out
that "they'd waited quite long enough as it was," for the work
of the station was at a deadlock for want of stores. They had been
sadly taxed by the needs of travellers, and we were down to our
last half-bag of flour and sugar, and a terrifyingly small quantity
of tea; soap, jams, fruits, kerosene, and all such had long been
things of the past. The only food we had in quantities was meat,
vegetables, and milk. Where we would have been without Cheon
no one can tell.
To crown all, we had just heard that the Dandy was delayed in a bog
with a broken shaft, but he eventually arrived in time to save
the situation, but not before we were quite out of tea. He had
little to complain of in the way of welcome when his great piled-up
waggon lumbered into the homestead avenue and drew up in front
of the store.
The horse teams were close behind, the Dandy said, but Mac was
"having a gay time" in the sandy country, and sent in a message
to remind the missus that she was still in the Land of Wait-awhile.
The reminder was quite unnecessary.
There was also a message from Mine Host. "I'm sending a few
cuttings for the missus," it read. Cuttings he called them,
but the back of the waggon looked like a nurseryman's van;
for all a-growing and a-blowing and waiting to be planted out,
stood a row of flowering, well-grown plants in tins: crimson
hibiscus, creepers, oleanders, and all sorts. A man is best
known by his actions, and Mine Host best understood
by his kindly thoughtfulness.
The store was soon full to overflowing, and so was our one
room, for everything ordered for the house had arrived--rolls
of calico heavy and unbleached, mosquito netting, blue matting
for the floors, washstand wvare, cups and saucers, and dozens
of smaller necessities piled in every corner of the room.
"There won't be many idle hands round these parts for a while,"
a traveller said, looking round the congested room, and he was
right, for having no sewing machine, a gigantic hand-sewing
contract was to be faced. The ceilngs of both rooms were to be
calico, and a dozen or so of seams were to be oversewn for tbat,
the strips of matting were to be joined together and bound into
squares, and after that a herculean task undertaken: the making
of a huge mosquito-netted dining-room, large enough to enclose
the table and chairs, so as to ensure our meals in comfort--
for the flies, like the poor, were to be with us always.
This net was to be nearly ten feet square and twelve high, with a
calico roof of its own drawn taut to the ceiling of the room,
and walls of mosquito netting, weighted at the foot with a deep
fold of calico, and falling from ceiling to floor, with a wide
double overlapping curtain for a doorway. Imagine an immense
four-poster bed-net, ten by ten by twelve, swung taut within
a larger room, and a fair idea of the dining-net will have been
formed. A room within a room, and within the inner room we hoped
to find a paradise at mealtime in comparison to the purgatory
of the last few months.
But the sewing did not end at that. The lubras' methods of washing
had proved most disastrous to my meagre wardrobe; and the resources
of the homestead were taxed to the utmost to provide sufficient
patching material to keep the missus even decently clothed.
"Wait for the waggons," the Maluka sang cheerily every time he
found me hunting in the store (unbleached calico or mosquito
netting being unsuitable for patching).
Cheon openly disapproved of this state of affairs, and was inclined
to blame the Maluka. A good husband usually provides his wife
with sufficient clothing, he insinuated; but when he heard
that further supplies were on the bullock waggons, he apologised,
and as he waddled about kept one ear cocked to catch the first sound
of the bullock bells. "Bullocky jump four miles," he informed us;
from which we inferred that the sound of the bells would travel
four miles. Cheon's English generaUy required paraphrasing.
Almost every day some fresh garment collapsed, and I bitterly
regretted my recklessness in giving Jimmy's Nellie the bath
wrapper. Fortunately a holland dress was behaving beautifully. "A
staunch little beast," the Maluka called it. That, however, had to
be washed, every alternate day; and, fearing possible contingencies,
I was beginning a dress of unbleached calico, when the Maluka,
busy among the stores, came on a roll of bright pink galatea ordered
for lubras' dresses, and brought it to the house in triumph.
Harsh, crudely pink, galatea! Yet it was received as joyfully as
ever a woman received a Paris gown; for although necessity may
be the mother of invention, she more often brings thankful hearts
into this world.
A hank of coarse, bristling white braid was also unearthed
from among the stores, and within three days the galatea had
become a sturdy white-braided blouse and skirt, that promised
to rival the "staunch little beast" in staunch-heartedness.
By the time it was finished, Johnny and the Dandy had all the
flooring boards down in the dining-room, and before the last nail
was in, Cheon and the Maluka had carried in every available stick
of furniture, and spread it about the room to the greatest possible
advantage. The walls were still unfinished, and doors and window
frames gaped; but what did that matter? The missus had a dining-room,
and as she presided at her supper-table in vivid pink and the pride
of possession, Cheon looked as though he would have liked to shake
hands with every one at once, but particularly with Johnny.
"Looks A1," the Ma1uka said, alluding to the stiff, aggressive
frock, and took me "bush" with him, wearing the blouse, and a holland
riding skirt that had also proved itself a true, staunch friend.
Dan, the Quiet Stockman, and the Dandy, had already gone "bush"
in different directions; for with the coming of the year's stores,
horse-breaking, house-building, trunks and waggons had all stepped
into their proper places--a very secondary one--and cattle had come
to the front and would stay there, as far as the men were concerned
until next Wet.
Cattle, and cattle only, would be the work of the "Dry." Dan
and the Quiet Stockman, with a dozen or so of cattle "boys" to help
them, had the year's musterings and brandings to get through;
the Dandy would be wherever he was most needed; yard-building,
yard-repairing, carting stores or lending a hand with mustering
when necessity arose, while the Maluka would be everywhere at once,
in organisation if not in body.
Where runs are huge, and fenceless, and freely watered the year's
mustering and branding is no simple task Our cattle were scattered
through a couple of thousand square miles of scrub and open timbered
country, and therefore each section of the run had to be gone over
again and again; each mob, when mustered, travelled to the nearest
yard and branded.
Every available day of the Dry was needed for the work; but there
is one thing in the Never-Never that refuses to take a secondary--
place the mailman; and at the end of a week we all found, once
again, that we had business at the homestead; for six weeks had
slipped away since our last mail-day, and the Fizzer was due
once more.
CHAPTER XII
The Fizzer was due at sundown, and for the Fizzer to be due meant
that the Fizzer would arrive, and by six o'clock we had all got
cricks in our necks, with trying to go about as usual, and yet keep
an expectant eye on the north track.
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