CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
A DAY'S FISHING.
Nic felt uncomfortable. There was something fascinating about being incompany with a man who knew so much of the wild nature of his country;but then the man was a convict--he had been warned against him--and acompanion that the doctor would not approve. But still, somehow orother, the boy was constantly finding himself in Leather's company, forthe man was as much drawn to Nic as he was to the convict.
The consequence was that they were often together out in the wilderparts of the doctor's great estate.
One day, after a hint from his father, consequent upon his saying thathe was going to explore the gully by the waterfall, he had taken the oldfishing-rod and line from where it hung upon two hooks in the kitchen--arod the doctor had used in old trout and salmon-fishing days, and hadbrought over on the chance of wanting, but had never found time to use.
"That gully is very beautiful higher up, Nic, and I have seen plenty offish in the deep parts, gliding about among the tree roots and oldtrunks that have been washed down in the floods and got wedged in. Ishould certainly take the rod. The men tell me they are capital eating,but I have never tried."
"We had a dish one day, father, when you were out," said Janet.
"How did you get them?" asked the doctor.
"Samson brought them in--a basketful," cried Hilda.
"Then you had better ask old Sam what he baited with, and take your baitaccordingly."
"Yes, father," said the boy.
"Take the biggest basket, Nic," said Hilda mischievously.
"Ah, you think I shan't catch any," said her brother, nodding his head;"but you'll see."
The rod was dusty, but good and strong, and in the bag the doctorpointed out there were plenty of good new hooks and lines; so leavingthem ready, Nic went down the garden to where he expected to find oldSam.
Sure enough there he was hoeing away, and he stopped and wiped hisperspiring face upon his arm as the boy came up.
"That's right, sir," he cried. "Glad to see you here. I want you totake a bit more hinterest in my garden. See they taters: ain't theygetting on? Look at my peas and beans too. I calls they a sight, I do.Make some o' they gardeners in Old England skretch their wigs and wishthey could grow things like 'em."
"Beautiful, Sam; but--"
"There's cauliflowers too, sir: ain't they splendid?"
"Couldn't be better, Sam; but--"
"Try my peas, sir." _Pop_! "There's a pod. Dozen fine uns, just as ifthey was a row o' green teeth laughing at you."
"Deliciously tender, Sam; but--"
"It's the sun, Master Nic; it's the sun," said the old man, who was toomuch wrapped up in his subject to heed the boy's remarks. "Sun's ascarce article at home, but here you gets it all day long, and it's theclouds is scarce. Why, you know summer at home, where the skies seemall like so much sopping wet flannel being squeezed; and not a sign o'sunshine for six weeks. What's to grow then?"
"Nothing, I suppose, Sam; but--"
"Of course you wants the water, sir. More sun you gets more water youwants, and that's why I tiddles it all along through the garden from upabove yonder, just ketching it above where it comes over the waterfall."
"Yes, waterfall, Sam," cried Nic heartily. "I say, didn't you catch alot of fish up there somewhere and bring home one day when my father wasout?"
"To be sure I did," said the old man, now beginning to lend an ear.
"That's right. I want to catch some too."
"You'd ketch 'em then, my lad. There's lots on 'em."
"Tell me how you caught them. What did you use for bait?"
"Shovel," said the old man, grinning.
"What?"
"And peckaxe."
"I don't understand you."
"Why, it's plain enough, sir. It was when I was turning a hole into asort o' ressywar to supply the garden--irrigglygate it, the master said,but I calls it watering."
"But I was talking about the fish, Sam."
"I know, sir; so was I. `How did you ketch 'em?' says you. `Shovel,'says I. I was making a place beyond the waterfall, and they swimmed ina hole there, where they'd got and couldn't get out again. So I makes adyke with the peck and turns the water off and then ladles the fish outwith the shovel. Two basketsful there was. One I took indoors for theladies, and t'other we ate; and Brooky put away so many they made himqueer for some days. But they didn't hurt me."
"But I wanted to fish for them with a rod and line."
"Oh-h-oh!" cried the old man. "You won't get many that-a-way. P'r'apsit would be best for you though. It's nation hard work pecking anddigging, making dams and gullies among the rocks when the sun's hot."
"But I want some bait."
"Ay, you'll want some bait. We used to ketch eels at home with a bigwum. There's lots here--whackers, some on 'em. Shall I get you a few?"
"Yes, do, please."
"So I will, Master Nic--barrowload if you like. You get me an oldcanister. There'll be some nice fat uns down aside where I grows mycowcumbers. Ah! I never thought, when I got digging 'em out o' theside of the cowcumber beds at home, I should ever get making on 'em outhere, t'other side o' the world."
Nic fetched a bag instead of a canister, and soon after stood ready tostart.
"You go same way as I took yer that night, Master Nic, and then workyour way up for a hour or so, and all under they tree-ferns you'll findpools and pools with lots o' fish in 'em; but I don't know how you'regoing to get on with that long thin clothes-prop of a thing. But,there, you're a gen'leman, and I s'pose you knows best."
"Well, I shall try with it, Sam," said Nic, laughing.
"Ay, sir, do, and good luck to you. Now I'll get back to my hoeing."
Nic shouldered his rod, and with his basket in his hand he left thegarden, went round by the wooden building set apart for the men, andthen struck across the open ground for the gully, where he soon cameupon the tree-bridge he had crossed that moonlight night in company withold Sam; and he could not help hesitating for a few moments as he lookeddown into the narrow, dark rift, along which the water was rushing farbelow, while the noise of the waterfall was hollow, reverberating, andstrange.
Nic took a long breath, and looked at the tree, which had been felled sothat it tumbled right across the rift, and then worked with an adze soas to make a level surface about as wide as an ordinary plank, the lowerbranches being left on at the sides of the trunk and beneath.
He drew another deep breath, and noted that if he fell, unless he caughtat one of these hanging branches, checked himself and managed to climbback, he must drop all that tremendous depth into the black-looking poolof water below.
He drew a third deep breath, and thought that if he had known what theplace was like, old Sam would never have got him across, that firstnight of his coming.
Then he took another long, deeper breath than ever, and said to himself:
"If that were a plank laid flat upon the ground I could hop along itupon one leg, so it is only cowardice to hesitate."
The next minute he was across, and walking along the other side of theferny gully, to stop by the waterfall and admire the beauty of theglassy water as it glided over the rocks and fell down into the thickmist, which rose like a cloud toward the overhanging mosses and ferns.
But though the place was attractive enough to have kept him there forhours, and he wondered why he had not come to have a good look at itsooner, he felt that if he meant to catch any fish that day he must bestirring.
There was a well-trodden path along by the river, which beyond thewaterfall ran on in a continuation of the gully but here the wallsopened out rapidly, till a few hundred yards above it became a lovelylittle sunny valley, with rocky masses piled near the bed of the littleriver, made beautiful by the abundant growth. The ferns were muchbigger than any he had yet seen, and the path wound in and out in many azigzag, now toward the sloping sides of the ravine, now toward thesparkling, torrent-like stream, over whi
ch drooped many a bough, as iffor the sunshine to rain through in a silver shower upon the waterbeneath, which flashed gloriously where the bright rays fell.
"I don't wonder at father choosing this place," thought Nic. "It growsmore beautiful every way one goes."
He must have wandered and climbed in and out for a couple of milesbefore he grasped why it was that the path was so well beaten. A moistspot in a shady part, where the river was just upon his right, showedthis, for the narrow track was printed all over by the hoofs of sheep,and he knew now that the footpath was their work, made when in hotweather they had selected the moist shades for grazing; while at a turna few hundred yards farther on he had an indorsement of his surmise, forthe slopes of the valley had grown less abrupt, and as far as he couldsee one side was dotted with creamy-white fleeces.
And now in the more level ground the torrent had become a swift, brightstream, bubbling and rippling here, swirling round in eddies there, andagain becoming dark and deep-looking.
He gazed down into the transparent water, but his research was notrewarded by the sight of dark, gliding forms with sinuous, waving tails.Still, though no scaly prizes offered themselves for capture, therewere plenty of other objects to attract him. Every now and then somebeautiful butterfly flitted across the water, and twice had he paused togaze with pleasant vexation at a lovely streak of wavy blue, as akingfisher darted from its perch to fly up the stream.
"Well, I do call this tiresome," he cried, taking his fishing-rod fromone shoulder to change it to the other. "If this had been my gun, youwouldn't have shown yourselves."
This was addressed to a little flock of small green birds which flewwhistling and chattering more than chirping up the slope toward thelevel land above.
"I dare say those are the little green parrots Leather talked about."
Twice more he had capital chances to obtain specimens,--one being atsome half-dozen birds, which seemed to be all pink except their snowyheads; the next time at a couple more in a tree. These did not fly tillhe was close enough to see that they were bright with bronze and greenand red.
"Why, they must be pigeons," he said, as they darted off. "Well, Isuppose one may see birds of any colour now."
At last!
He had reached an ideal spot, where one side of the river was dammed bya tangled mass of tree trunks which must have been brought down by someflood, to get jammed, and then gradually be stripped by the action ofthe water, till only the stems and larger branches were left; while onhis side there was a dark, tempting-looking pool of water, which heapproached cautiously, after laying down his rod, and then crawlingtoward it, gradually looked over the sharp, rocky edge of the river intothe sunlit depths, to see dark bodies in slow motion some feet belowsailing here and there to capture the tit-bits brought down by thestream.
Nic's eyes glistened as he drew back as cautiously as he had approached.
"This looks like real fishing," he said to himself, as he thought of theunsatisfactory sport he had had at home at the various ponds in theneighbourhood of the Friary, when a farmer gave them leave to go."Wouldn't some of the boys like to be here. I shouldn't be surprised ifthis place has never been fished before. My word! they ought to bite."
Such uneducated fish certainly ought to have bitten; but though Nicapproached the side again cautiously, keeping well back out of sight,and after carefully covering his hook with a worm, dropped it without asplash in a likely place, and then in a more likely one, and again andagain into other spots which seemed each of them more likely than thelast, not a bite did he get!
He was patient, too. He put on fresh baits, tried all over the pool,dropped in his worm so that it might be washed from the stream into thestill, dark water, and sink among the fish.
Still there was not the sign of a bite.
"They must all have gone away," thought Nic, just as there was a burstof sharp screams from a flock of cockatoos, which, like the other birds,seemed wilder here in the moist shades than he had found them high up onthe park-like downs near the great mountain gorge.
He crept upon his chest cautiously once more to get his eyes just overthe sharp rock edge of the pool, to look down into the depths, fullyconvinced that he would not see a fish; but to his surprise there wasquite a shoal of a goodly size slowly sailing about, and after a fewmoments he was able to make out that they were close by the bait, whichlay at the bottom, moving slowly, while one of the largest fish wascertainly looking at it.
"Bother!" muttered Nic, as he looked round about and thought of oldSam's style of fishing. "Well, one can't catch these with a shovel anda pickaxe. No one could bale out this pool."
"Having bad luck, sir?" said a deep voice; and Nic started up to findLeather standing close behind.
First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales Page 21