by Carol Norton
*CHAPTER XIII*
*OFF FOR THE HOLIDAYS!*
"Boyhood is the natural time for abundant play and laughter, withoutwhich rarely does high health touch young cheeks with its rose-bloom, orknit bones strongly for the fighting and the toiling that awaitsthem."--JOSEPH H. FLETCHER.
"Now then, Norah, look slippy with breakfast! It's half-past six, an'Sandy's to be here at seven. Said he'd leave the station at five withthe spare horse for me."
"Begorrah! at the rate breakfast's cookin' it'll be midnight before it'sready. 'Tis the bastliest wood that niwer was."
"Time the fish was fryin', Norah."
"Fish, bedad! For two pins ye wuddent have anny fish. The thrubbleOi've had wid thim! Phwat for did youse lave thim in the bag all night?If ye'd put thim out on the dish, ye spalpeen, Oi'd have seen thim andclaned thim long ba-fore Oi wint to bed. 'Sted of which it's tuk me twomorchial hours to scale the brutes, they was that dry and hard. BeSaint Pathrick, they scales was loike porky-pine's pricklies!"
"Sorry, Norah; my fault as usual," remarked Joe good-humouredly."Father called out to turn the horse from the lucerne just as I reachedthe back door. So I threw the bag down on the steps to chase the moke,an' clean forgot 'em when I came back."
"Well, Oi'll forgive ye wanst more, which makes about a milliontousandth toime; but, moind ye, 'tis----"
"All serene, Norah! Oh, I say, Norry, I'd nearly forgotten it! PaddyLacey asked me yesterday to tell you that they want you to go to theHibernian picnic on Boxing Day. They've chartered the _Firefly_, an'are goin' down to the Bar."
"God's truth! 'tis only gammoning me ye are, Masther Joe. It's a youngthrick ye be, indade, with yure Hayburnion picnacs."
"It's as true as true, Norah. No make-up this time. An' oh! I say,d'you know what Jimmy Flynn tole Tom Hawkins?"
"Nawthin' good, bedad!"
"Ain't it! Well, opinions differ. At any rate he was goin' to set aline on Friday night, an' as he was roundin' the point he hearssomewheres ahead of him a noise between a smack an' a crack. Then comesa bit of a squeal, an' a woman's voice sings out: 'Don't, stop it!'Then there was another smack-crack, an' just as he got round the cornerhe sees a couple, for all the world like you and Paddy, sittin' on alog. No, 'twas Paddy that was on the log, an' you were on Paddy's----"
"Ye loi-in spalpeen! Oi'll pull yure tongue from betune yure teeth,"screamed Norah, as, blushing furiously, she chased the nimble Joe out ofthe kitchen right into the arms of Sandy M'Intyre, as he was coming upthe back doorstep.
"Hello, Sandy!"
"Hello, Joe! What's row inside? Norah givin' you the rounds of thekitchen as usual, eh?"
"Only jiggin' her about Paddy Lacey, an' got her _paddy_ up a bit.You're up to time, Sandy, ole man. By jing! I see you've brought Curlewin. Am I to ride him? My word! it is good of your governor to let me.I thought you'd a brought the piebald."
"So I intended, but he was limpin' when he was run into the stockyard;so father says, 'Take Curlew.'"
Curlew was Mr. M'Intyre's favourite horse, and Joe was highly honouredin being allowed to ride this mettlesome but lovely paced steed.
Just then breakfast appeared. After a substantial meal Joe brought outhis father's valise and strapped it to the saddle.
"All ready, Sandy? Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, father. Good-bye,girls!"
And so, with kisses and cautions from the family, the boys mounted theirsteeds and cantered down the street to the punt, on their way toBullaroi, as Mr. M'Intyre's station was called.
Across the river the boys were joined by Tom Hawkins, who was toaccompany them. Tom, who was mounted on a brisk pony, greeted them witha cheery cry as the punt reached the shore. A jollier trio of youngAustralians could not be found than this chattering, capering band, whoon that brilliant morning raced along the bush track.
Plans of fun and frolic were projected during the ride, includingastounding adventures that would have taken half a year to carry out.In anticipation the lads were already having tip-top fun. Tom's riotousimagination, especially, made the spoils of the gun, the rod, and thechase to assume brobdingnagian proportions.
In due course they pulled up at the slip-rails marking the Bullaroiboundary line. Thence to the white gate seen in the distance, and whichfronted the homestead, a mad race ensued. In this Curlew was first, therest nowhere. Indeed, Curlew became so excited by the gallop and theshrill shoutings of the riders that Joe, who had made no attempt to pullhim till the horse was almost on the gate, found it impossible to stophis steed, which was full of running. Before the boy fully realised it,Curlew was soaring through the air, clearing the gate by at least acouple of feet. Joe, parting from the "pigskin," was sailing throughspace on his own account, leaving a foot or two between his sit-down andthe saddle seat.
Joe, though a fair rider, was not a practised steeple-chaser. He wasnot a horseman, as were Sandy and Tom, who were to the manner born.Little wonder, then, that his heart rose with the horse and his rider,and for some brief moments palpitated furiously in his mouth. Thatmysterious and natural law of the universe called gravitation was onhand, however, and saved the situation.
Curlew's hoofs struck the ground on the descending curve as lightly as acat. Joe's legs, which in this aerial flight had assumed the shape ofan inverted V, came plop into the saddle at the right moment. But hisbody was thrown forward, his hands clutching frantically at the horse'sneck and mane. In this condition, unable to recover his equilibrium,with but the loss of his hat, the rider is carried over the interveningdistance to the stables, amid loud laughter from the station people, whohad been attracted by the shouting of the boys.
Sandy cleared the gate in pursuit of Joe, but failed to catch him. Tomwas obliged to haul up and open the gates, as the jump was too high forhis pony. Thus the rider of Curlew came in a winner, and all threedismounted amid laughter and teasings.
"Weel, Joseph, my lad," said Mr. M'Intyre, who possessed a pawky humour,"Johnny Gilpin couldna hae done the trick better. You kep' up wi'Curlew, anyway. I thocht he was goin' to leave ye behind. Ma certieit's deeficult to say which is the winner, you or the horse. We'll juistca' it neck an' neck."
"Take no heed to him, Joe," said Mrs. M'Intyre. She saw through thelad's apparent good-humour a sense of humiliation at his unhorsemanlikeentry. "You did well to stick to him, not knowing his intention. Butcome away in, boys; ye'll be ready for something to eat after that ride.We're right glad to see you. Sandy was so excited last night at theprospect of your coming that I am sure he didn't sleep a wink. Why, hehad the horses saddled at dawn, and was off without a bite if I hadn'tstopped him and made him drink a cup of coffee."
The day was a busy one on the station. Every one was engaged infinishing off jobs and cleaning up. For during Christmas week, anduntil after New Year's Day, only that which was absolutely necessary inthe way of work was expected.
During the previous week drafting and mustering had been the allabsorbing work on the run. That finished, and a mob of "fats"despatched overland to Maitland to catch the Christmas market, the lastfew days were occupied in culling "boilers" and in branding calves. Onthis particular day all the available hands were engaged in tidying up;the whitewash bucket being in great request.
Willy and Jacky, the aboriginal boys, together with an Irishlad,--Norah's brother, in fact,--were enrolled as whitewash artists.Their special work consisted in converting dingy looking hen-roosts,dog-kennels, pigsties, milking sheds, and the like into a brilliantwhite. Meanwhile two of the men, with rough brooms made of stiffbrushes, were sweeping the ground within a fair radius of the house.
Inside, the housework was prosecuted with great vigour. Two gins wereset to work with the scrubbing brush; while in the kitchen, where Mrs.Mac and the two elder daughters were domiciled, Christmas cooking wenton apace. There was, indeed, such a weighing of flour and raisins, sucha slicing of candied peel, such a dressing of flesh and fowl as to make
Ah Fat, the cook, fairly amazed, and to wonder how in the name ofConfucius the oven was to stand the cooking strain that was beingbrought upon it. While from the kitchen an odoriferous perfume waswafted across the yard, assaulting all noses, and breeding highanticipation, most pleasurable from the standpoint of creature comforts.
Mr. M'Intyre, no patron of idleness either in man or boy, took the ladsearly in the day into the harness room, and set them to the task ofcleaning the saddle and harness ware. Saddles, girths, bridles, varioussets of light and heavy harness, required attention. All leather was tobe well cleaned and oiled, stirrups and bits to be burnished, and brokenstraps to be repaired.
The pals threw themselves, _con amore_, into the work. It was hard tosay which moved the more briskly, tongues or hands. The afternoon waswell advanced before the last piece of steel and electro silver waspolished, the last girth and surcingle refitted, and the whole placed ontheir respective brackets. This task finished, the boys felt that theyhad earned the promised reward--a glorious swim. Within a couple ofhours of sunset the whole of the outside work was accomplished, and, forthe time being, each employe was a free agent.
The homestead faced a large affluent of the river, which was known asCrocodile Creek. Why the creek was so named was a sort of a mystery.No species of the saurian tribe was ever known to infest its waters.The name may have been given to it through some fancied resemblance inits course to the aforesaid reptile.
Crocodile Creek formed a fine frontage to Bullaroi run, being distantfrom the homestead about a quarter of a mile. Immediately opposite, thecreek widened out into a fine sheet of water some three miles long, andvarying in width from one hundred to one hundred and fifty yards. Therewas a particular spot which stood about seven or eight feet above thewater. Here Mr. M'Intyre had a spring-board constructed. The water wasfully twelve feet deep at the jump off, and, added to other advantages,formed an ideal spot for bathing purposes.
Having finished their allotted tasks, the lads came bounding out of theharness-room and across the yard to the house, shouting, as theycapered, "Who's for a swim?" The stockmen certainly looked, and nodoubt felt, that the one thing above all others necessary for their easeand comfort after the stable and the house-yard cleaning operations wasa plunge into the cool, sweet waters of the creek. If they weresemi-black by reason of their employment, it was no less true that theblack boys, Willy and Jacky, were semi-white.
Dennis Kineavy, the Irish lad, was the "broth of a bhoy," and all threewere cram full of impishness. No sooner were the finishing touches ofwhitewash decoration given, than Denny, sneaking up behind Willy andJacky, who stood off a little from the hen-roost admiring their artistichandicraft--with capacious brush well charged with the sediment of hisbucket--smote them in quick succession across the bare shoulders andbreech, and then, with an Irish yell, darted round the stable.
Surprised for the moment, but nothing loath, the black boys snatchedtheir buckets, wielded their brushes, and, shouting their nativewar-cry, dashed off in hot pursuit; Denny dodged them successfully for awhile, but was at length outflanked, and then ensued a battle royalwhich only ceased when the supplies of ammunition (whitewash) wereexhausted.
It was at the tail-end of the fray that Sandy and his mates came racingalong with the cry of, "Swim O! Swim O!"
Boys and men, black and white, were all ready and willing, nay, eager,for a jolly bogey.[#] There was a rush by the whites for towels; then,in quick procession, the motley band made for the water.
[#] "Bogey," native name for bathe.
After a plunge and a short swim to get rid of the dust and muck, animpromptu carnival was arranged. First of all came the long dive. Thismeant a run along the spring-board and a dive straight out. The diverin each case, when reaching the surface, had to tread water, keeping asnearly as possible to the spot of emergence.
Tom Hawkins led off, the others followed in order at twenty seconds'interval. The blacks, by reason of their native abilities in thisdirection, were made to do the dive with arms interlocked, Siamese twinfashion. The darkies were the whippers-in of this diving procession.Tom, who led off, faltered in his stride when leaving the spring-board.He rose to the surface at about thirty feet from the bank. Joe, whofollowed, dived a good ten feet farther out than Tom. Sandy, however,when he shot up through the water, was fully fifty feet from the shore.Both of the stockmen beat Joe, but were behind Sandy.
Then came the blacks, side by side. With an even, measured, and springystride they raced down the board, which was wide enough to admit of thismanoeuvre. They took the water without a splash, like a pair of frogs,leaving scarce a ripple. It was naturally thought that by being coupledin this way matters would be evened. It was the general opinion thatthey would fail to reach Sandy's limit, and probably not get beyondJoe's. The boys eagerly awaited their reappearance, watching the waterclosely for some sign. After what appeared to be an interminable periodthey were startled by a double cooee, and, lo! the twins, so to speak,had risen at least twenty feet beyond Sandy, or seventy feet from theshore.
Somersault diving followed the long distance trial. In thia Harry thestockman, who had been a circus rider and acrobat in his youthful days,outshone all the others.
Then came the exciting game of "catch the devil." Willy was chosendevil. It was his business to dive off the spring-board and run thegauntlet, the others being scattered in the water. To catch theaboriginal seemed a comparatively easy matter, all things considered.He was, however, a superb swimmer and trickster, diving and dodging likea cormorant. A dozen times surrounded, he marvellously eluded hispursuers. The game was at its height, and there was no knowing how longthe "devil" would remain at large, when the station bell rang out alusty summons to supper.
This brought the carnival to an instant conclusion. And now each swimmerscrambled for the shore, and soon the whole company, with clean bodiesand healthy appetites, were hieing along the track. When the boysreached home they found a new arrival in the person of a youngEnglishman. This gentleman was out on a business tour, and, beinganxious to see something of station life, was recommended to Mr.M'Intyre by a mutual friend. Mrs. M'Intyre's hospitality was proverbial,and Neville, for such was the "new chum's" name, was heartily madewelcome.
The day had been a long one, and, supper ended, the boys were quiteresigned to go to bed, or at least to the bedroom. The noisestherefrom, after their retirement, were very suggestive of prime larks,and continued long after lights were out. The pals were domiciled, totheir great delight, in a big spare room, which contained a double bedand a single one. Joe and Tom shared the former, while Sandy camped onthe latter, which was, indeed, his stretcher brought in for theoccasion.
Silence reigned supreme at length within, and without was broken only bythe hoarse croaking of the frogs, an occasional call from a night owl,and the weird wail of the curlew.