CHAPTER TWELVE.
A BLACK PERIL.
At the end of six days, though a long way from being a horseman, Nic hadreached a pitch when he could mount without fear, and enjoy thoroughly atrot, canter, or gallop; and his father used laughingly to say that nowhe would not be ashamed to show him to his mother and sisters.
"It's a long, slow, monotonous journey, Nic," said the doctor, at theend of that sixth day; "but I don't think we've been idle."
"Idle? oh no, father," said Nic; "and I've enjoyed it thoroughly."
"In spite of the rough way of living?"
"I haven't thought of that," replied Nic. "It has all been so fresh andinteresting, and there has been so much to see."
"Well, you have been well introduced to the country, my boy, and youhave mastered riding--a strong part of a settler's education, for youwill have to help me hunt up the sheep and cattle, and save me many along round. Feel ready to see your mother and sisters?"
"Ready? I'm longing to see them, father. Are we getting near?"
"Yes; all being well, we shall sleep under our own roof to-morrow night,and have the waggon-load of stores and treasures under cover."
That last night in the waggon was the most uncomfortable Nic had passed.It was hot; there was a chest beneath him which had suddenly developeda hard edge and an awkward corner; the dogs, too, were uneasy, andbarked a good deal at the moon. Then some kind of animal in the pluralnumber seemed to be holding a meeting up among the branches of the hugetree under which they encamped, for there were endless squealings andskirmishes about, which woke the boy again and again, to lie and listen,and think about his new home in the great Australian wilderness, of hismother and sisters, whether they were much changed, and ending, justbefore dozing off again, by wondering what they would think of him.
It was, then, with a feeling of no little satisfaction that he wokeagain to hear the magpie piping, and hurriedly scrambled out, fullyconvinced that he was up first that morning, but found, as usual, thatthe fire was already burning brightly, and that some one had been on thewatch, not one of which had he been allowed to keep.
This time it was the man Leather whom Nic joined, towel in hand, on hisway for his regular morning swim.
"Morning! You're first, then?"
The man gave him a nod, and by the light of the fire his face lookedsurly.
"Has my father been out yet?"
"Sleep in the front of the waggon."
Nic felt disposed to go on, but he was in such high spirits that he wasobliged to say a few words more.
"We shall be at the Bluff to-night."
"Oh?" said the man indifferently.
"Well, ain't you glad to get home?"
"No: I'm only a servant."
"But it's your home for the present."
The man threw a few more sticks on the fire, and said nothing.
"I say, Leather, what sort of a place is it?"
"Station's like other stations."
"Yes, but is it pretty--beautiful?"
"No."
"What? My father said it was a grand place with a glorious view."
"It's built of wood and thatched with bark, and you can see a long way."
"But the mountains?"
"There are mountains; so there are for miles."
"But the river?"
"There is a creek, but this time of the year it is mostly water-holes."
"But it's a beautiful place to live in?"
"Is it?" said the man coldly.
"Oh, I say, you want your breakfast!" said Nic laughingly.
"No; I am not hungry."
"Then what's the matter with you, Leather?"
"Nothing."
"Ah, well, I must go and have my dip."
The man gave him a sour look, and Nic ran on, passing the horses grazingtogether, which were ready to look up and whinny a welcome.
"There," cried, the boy, as he gave each a friendly patting and strokedtheir cold wet noses; "you're ever so much better companions than oldLeather. Now then, finish your breakfast: to-night you will sleep inyour warm stable."
The announcement made, of course, no impression upon the horses, whichlowered their heads again directly, and went on cropping the succulentcoarse grass, while Nic went on to the side of the pool, and began toundress, when his attention was taken by a sudden splash; and as hestood wondering he could dimly see something swimming about toward theother side.
"Must be a big water rat," muttered Nic, commencing to undress; and,confident that there was nothing likely to injure him, he plunged in,had his swim, crept out, rubbed, and was going on with his dressingagain behind a clump of wattle scrub, when the splash excited hiscuriosity again, and turning his head cautiously, he peered down at thepool over which the pale grey light was now growing brighter.
For the first few moments he could see nothing; then a sinuous line ofdisturbed water showed him where something was swimming.
"'Tis a rat," he said to himself, "and those are ducks just on beyondit. No, it isn't a rat: it's one of those things with the duck's billthat father was talking about. I'll dress quickly and fetch the gun. Imight get two or three ducks for supper."
The next moment he thought he would run as hard as he could to thewaggon, and avoid being speared, but he did not stir, only stood in astooping position staring wildly at' a black figure stealing along amongthe trees on the other side of the pool; and hardly had he realised thisfact before another black appeared walking in the track of the first,and then' another and another.
Nic felt paralysed. They might be dangerous, for they were all carryingspears, and were stealing up to the water in the most cautious way.
The next minute he could see at least a dozen, and lowering his headcautiously he dropped upon his knees well out of sight, and finisheddressing before softly turning his head again to watch.
The blacks were gone; and, though relieved, the boy was puzzled, for hecould not make out how they could have left, as there was the opencountry just beyond the water-hole, and hardly a bush that could form ahiding-place.
He could not have been deceived. Those must have been blacks, a strongparty of them; and it was evident that they had not been seen up at thecamp by Leather, or he would have warned him of their presence.
"Would he?" thought Nic. "He's a disagreeable, surly fellow, and Idon't wonder, at Brookes bullying him so much. What shall I do?Perhaps after all they're gone. Oh!"
That last was a low, deep expiration of the breath, for Nic was havinghis first lesson in the clever cunning of the blackfellows. They werenot gone, but clustered together just on the other side of thewater-hole, some sixty yards away, right in sight as he peered betweenthe thick branches of the wattle.
Nic felt fascinated for the moment, and was ready to ask himself whetherit was real or a trick of his imagination. For there across the waterlay about and stuck up in all kinds of gnarled and grotesque shapes whatseemed to be a large clump of burned-down and blackened tree stumps;broken branches sent off awkward snag-like pieces, others presentedbosses and excrescences; and but for the fact that he had seen the partyof blacks creeping up, Nic never could have imagined that they werereally there, thrown into these strange imitations of what was likely tobe found upon the bank of a water-hole.
But there they were, either acting their part to deceive the wild fowlinto coming near enough to be speared or knocked down, or trying to hidethemselves from the encamping party.
Yes, dim as the light was, there could be no deception, for Nic at lastmade out the glint of an eye. It certainly was not a piece of gumgleaming in the dewy morning, but the eye of one of the blacks. Then itwas gone.
What should he do? They were so clever that Nic knew it would be thehardest of hard work for a white to beat them with their own weapons;but the boy knew that he must act, and at once.
Dropping silently down, he lay on his breast thinking for a few moments,making his plans.
It was quite three hundred yards to
the tree where the fire had beenmade--a long way for him to go if he were seen, for the naked blackswould be swifter of foot than he. His only course was to crawl frombush to bush; and feeling that for the present he was out of sight,sheltered by the patch of wattle, he began to crawl slowly and assilently as he could toward the waggon.
Nic had never before realised how difficult it was to proceed over wetherbage after the fashion of a caterpillar. But this was the only wayfor him to get along, and he did his best, moving slowly forward where asavage would have gone on at a little run.
As he crept along it was with a strange quivering of the muscles of hisback and loins, a curious kind of shrinking, in expectation moment bymoment of the blacks having crept round the end of the water-poolthrough the dry bed of the river up the side to send a spear flying intohim.
But it did not come; and at last, perspiring profusely, he passed adetached bush, curved round so as to place it between him and theblacks, and then paused to glance back.
He could not see them; but, to his horror, he found that the bush wasnot in a line between him and the water-hole, and he had to creep back.
Worse still, he realised now how the ground sloped upward, so that atany moment he might be in full view, and he paused, hesitating aboutgoing any farther, when only a few yards beyond he saw that there was ahollow into which he could roll, and in it creep along to the first bigtrees.
Nic felt that he was risking being seen by his impetuosity, butexcitement urged him on, and the next moment he was in the littledepression, most probably a dry rivulet bed, which ran down toward thewater-hole. But whatever it was it gave him shelter till he could reachthe big trees, in and out of whose trunks he threaded his way, well outof sight now, and ran panting up to the fire as his father was angrilysaying to Leather:
"Surely you must have seen the black last night."
"Not him, sir," said Brookes; "he won't see nothing that he don't want.I left 'em together, and he ought to know where he is."
"Well, he has gone," said the doctor sternly; "and hullo, Nic, have youseen a snake?"
"Quick! father, the guns!" panted the boy. "Blacks! the blacks!"
"You mean our blackfellow?"
"No, father, twenty of them, just on the other side of the water-hole,hiding."
"All of you," said the doctor, in a low, firm voice, "into the waggon."Then the boy heard him mutter, as he held him tightly by the arm: "Goodheavens! can they have been to the Bluff?"
First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales Page 12