Mates at Billabong

by Mary Grant Bruce

  CHAPTER XIV

  CUNJEE v. MULGOA

  I remember What it was to be young, and glad, and strong, By a creek that rippled the whole day long. M. FORREST.

  There was no doubt whatever that the heat was, as Jim had prophesied,"a caution." Pretty little Mrs. Anderson, walking down to the cricketground at Cunjee, between Jim and Cecil, inwardly wondered what hadmade her come out of her cool, shaded house to encounter so scorching asun--with nothing ahead but a bush cricket match. However, Cunjee was nomore lively than other townships of its class, and even a match wassomething. Besides, her husband was playing, and the Billabongcontingent, who did not seem to mind the heat at all, had arrived fullof most infectious high spirits, filling her house with a cheerfulatmosphere of youth and jollity. Norah had at once succumbed to thecharms of the baby, and as the baby seemed similarly impressed withNorah, it had been hard to remove him from her arms even for purposesof nourishment for either. She had quite seriously proposed to take himto the match, and had been a little grieved when his mother hastilyvetoed the proposition. As mother of three babies, Mrs. Anderson knewprecisely their worth at an entertainment--particularly on a hot day.

  Even Cecil was more than usually inclined to be--if not happy, at leastless bored; although he had begun the day badly, and considered himselfscarcely on speaking terms with Jim. This attitude was somewhatdifficult to sustain, because Jim himself ignored it cheerfully, andaddressed to his cousin whatever remarks came into his head--which Cecilprivately considered a demeanour showing the worst of taste.

  Bobs had been the "unhappy cause of all this discord." The bay pony wasalways an object of envy to Cecil, and in his heart he was determinedto ride him before leaving Billabong. Particularly he coveted him forthe ride into Cunjee. It was bad enough, he considered, to be condemnedto Brown Betty in the paddocks, but she was certainly not stylishenough to please him when it came to a township expedition. So he hadsauntered out when the horses were being saddled, and delicately hintedto Jim that he might ride Bobs.

  Jim, wrestling with Garryowen's girth, had found it the easiest way outof the difficulty to avoid hearing the hint--which he considered "likeCecil's cheek," and as nothing short of Norah's own command would haveinduced him to accede to it, silence seemed the better plan. Cecil hadwaited a moment until his head came up from under the saddle flap, andrepeated his remark.

  "Afraid not," said Jim, driven to bay, and speaking shortly to coverhis annoyance. "Norah's going to ride him herself." He led Garryowenoff to tie him under the shade of the pepper trees, and did not returnto saddle Bobs until Cecil had retreated to the house, looking veryblack.

  This little incident--which Jim had not thought is necessary to reportto Norah--had slightly marred the harmony of the early morning. ButJim's unfailing good humour make it hard to keep up a grievance, and ifBetty were not exactly stylish, her paces were good enough to make herrider enjoy the trip into Cunjee, especially as Wally and Norah were inthe best of spirits and kept things going with a will. Then had comelunch at the Andersons', an occasion which called all Cecil's reservepowers into play. Mrs. Anderson was pretty and smart, and he assumedhis best society manner in talking to her, monopolized most of theconversation and flattered himself on making a distinct impression onhis country hostess. Possibly he would have been pained had he heardMrs. Anderson's remark to her husband while putting on her hat afterlunch.

  "Did you ever see such a contrast, Jack?" she asked--"that conceitedboy, and those nice Grammar School youngsters--they're so jolly andunaffected!" To which the doctor had responded that if he had his wayhe'd boil Cecil, and it was time she had that veil fixed--and had ledher forth, protesting that "half the pins weren't in!"

  Cecil, however, knew nothing of these comments, and was very wellsatisfied with himself as they walked slowly along the lane leading tothe cricket ground. Jim, on the other side of Mrs. Anderson, tall andhandsome in his flannels, with his white hat pulled over his eyes,discoursed cheerfully of school matches, and promised them somethingworth seeing if young Wally got going with the bat--conversation whichdid not interest Cecil, who turned it as speedily as might be tomatters more to his taste, whereat Jim grew silent, listening with asmile hovering on his well-cut mouth to society doing in the city, toldwith a view to impressing his hearers with a sense of the narrator'sown important share therein. Once Mrs. Anderson met Jim's eye in abrief glance, and reflected the smile momentarily. Behind them, Norah,Wally, and the little doctor kept up a flow of chatter which Wallydescribed as "quite idiotic and awfully comfortable!" The party arrivedat the cricket ground on very good terms with itself.

  The ground boasted no pavilion save a shed used for the preparation ofafternoon tea--a building of which the extreme heat made it almostpossible to boil the kettle without lighting a fire! Naturally, no oneused it for purposes of watching the play, but there was a row ofwattle trees along one side of the ground, and seats placed in theirshade made an excellent natural grand stand. Here the non-playersbetook themselves, while the doctor and the two boys went off to thespot where already most of the other players were gathered--a lean-tounder a huge gum-tree, used as a dressing-room by most of thecombatants, a number of whom arrived on horseback from long distances.The Billabong boys had changed at the hotel, after putting up theirhorses, and before repairing to the Andersons', so that they had nodressing to do--which was more than fortunate for them, since thelean-to was so thick with men, boys, valises, discarded garments,leggings and boots, that it resembled a hive in a strong state ofdisorganization.

  Finally, the men were ready; a somewhat motley crowd--not more thanseven or eight in flannels, while the remainder were in ordinary dress,with occasionally riding breeches and leggings to be seen, and not afew football jerseys. The Mulgoa men, on being mustered, were found tobe a man short, while Cunjee had one to the good. So Murty O'Toole, tohis intense disgust, was solemnly handed over to Mulgoa. Then Dr.Anderson, who captained Cunjee, won the toss, and Murty took the fieldalong with his new allies, amid heartless jeers from Mr. Boone, smokingcomfortably under a tree, who desired to know should he fetch Mr.O'Toole an umbrella?

  The story in detail of a cricket match is generally of particularinterest to those who have been there; and as, unfortunately, thenumber of spectators of the famous battle between Cunjee and Mulgoa waslimited, little would be served by an exhaustive description of eachover bowled on that day of relentless heat. Cunjee shaped badly fromthe start. Their two most noted batsmen, a young blacksmith and thepost-master, fell victims, without getting into double figures, to thecrafty bowling of the Mulgoa captain, Dan Billings--who drove a coach inhis spare moments, and had as nice an understanding of how to make aball break on a fast wicket as of flicking the off leader on the earwith the cracker of his four-in-hand whip. Dr. Anderson scored a coupleof fours, and then went out "leg before." He remarked, returning to the"pavilion" sorrowfully, that when one was as round and fat as he, itwas difficult to keep out of the way of three little sticks! Then DaveBoone and Wally made a stand that roused the perspiring spectators tosomething like enthusiasm, for Mr. Boone was a mighty "slogger," andWally had a neat and graceful style that sent the Cunjee supportersinto the seventh heaven. Between them the score mounted rapidly, andthe men of Mulgoa breathed a sigh of relief when at length Dave skied aball from Billings, which descended into the ample hands of MurtyO'Toole, who was quite undecided whether to treat his catch as atriumph or a calamity. There was no doubt, however, on the part of hiscolleagues for the day, who thumped him wildly on the back and yelledagain with joy. Mr. Boone retired with a score of forty-five and a widegrin.

  Then Jim joined Wally, and kept his end up while his chum put on theruns. Nothing came amiss to Wally that day--slow balls, fast balls,"yorkers," "googlies"--the science of Mulgoa went to earth before thethin brown schoolboy with the merry face. Jim, however, was never atease, though he managed to remain in a good while; and eventuallyDickenson, a wiry little Mulgoa man, found his middle stump with aswift ball--to
the intense dismay of Norah, to whom it seemed that thesky had fallen. Cecil smiled serenely.

  "I had an idea Jim fancied himself as a bat!" said he.

  "Jim never fancies himself at anything!" said Jim's sister,indignantly. "Anyway, he's a bowler far more than a bat."

  "Ah, it's possibly not his 'day out.' What a pity!" Cecil murmured.

  "Well, we can't always be on our best form, I suppose," said Mrs.Anderson, pacifically. "And, at any rate, Norah, your friend is doingsplendidly. Wasn't that a lovely stroke?"

  Alas! it soon was apparent that Cunjee was not going to support itsally. One after another the wickets went down, and the batsmen returnedfrom the field "with mournful steps and slow." Wally, seeing hischances diminishing, took liberties with the bowling, and hit wildly,with amazing luck in having catches missed. At last, however, hesnicked a ball into cover-point's hands, and retired, amid greatapplause, having made forty-three. The remaining Cunjee wickets went aschaff before the wind, and the innings closed for 119.

  Then there was a rush for the refreshment shed, and monumentalquantities of tea were consumed by the teams and their supporters,administered by the admiring maidens of Cunjee. Wally and Jim, prone onthe grass in the shade, were cheerful, but by no means enthusiasticregarding their chances. Norah had half expected to find Jim cast downover his batting failure, and was much relieved that he exhibited allhis usual serenity. Jim's training had been against showing feelingover games.

  "Absolutely fiery out there," said he, accepting a cup gratefully."Thanks, awfully, Mrs. Anderson; you people are no end good. Didn't wemake a beautiful exhibition of ourselves?--all except Dave and this kid,that is."

  "Kid yourself," said Wally, who was sucking a lemon slowly andluxuriously. "No tea, thanks, Norah. I'm boiling already, and if I tooktea I don't know what might happen, but certainly heat apoplexy wouldbe part of it. Have half my lemon?"

  "I don't think so, thanks," said Norah, unmoved by this magnificentoffer. "You seem to be getting used to that one, and I'd hate todeprive you of it. Do you boys think we've any chance?"

  "It's highly doubtful," Jim answered. "The general opinion is thatMulgoa's good for 150 at the very least--they've got a few rathersuperior men, I believe, and of course that Billings chap is a terror.And the wicket, such as it is, is all in favour for the bat--whichdoesn't say much for us And one of our men has gone down with the heatand can't field--fellow from the hotel with red hair, who madefive--remember him, Wal.? He's out of training, like most hotel chaps,and as soft as possible, So we're playing a man short."

  "I wish they'd give you Murty back!" said Norah, with feminineignorance.

  "Much hope!" returned her brother. "Anyway, Murty's not over good inthe field; he's too much in the saddle to be a quick man on his feet. Iwouldn't mind you as substitute, Nor."--which remark, though futile,pleased Norah exceedingly.

  She was rather more hopeful when the Cunjee team at length took thefield, with Boone and the blacksmith bowling against Billings andanother noted Mulgoa warrior. But her hopes were rapidly put to flight,and the spirits of the Cunjee "barrackers" went down to zero as itbecame distressingly apparent that Mr. Billings and his partner werethere to stay. Alike they treated the bowling with indifference,hitting the Billabong stockman with especial success--which soondemoralized Dave, who appealed to be taken off, and devoted hisenergies to short slip fielding. Here he had his revenge presently, forthe second Mulgoa man hit a ball almost into his hands, and Dave clungto it as a drowning man to a straw--one wicket for thirty-five.

  Then the score mounted with alarming steadiness, and the wickets fellall too slowly for the home team. Dan Billings appeared as comfortableat the wickets as though on the box of his couch, and smote the bowlingall round the ground with impartiality. The heat became more and moreoppressive, and several of the Cunjee men were tiring, including plumplittle Dr. Anderson, who stuck to his work as wicket-keeper pluckily--tothe unconcealed anxiety of his wife. His reward came when a hot returnfrom the field by Wally gave him a chance of stumping one of the Mulgoacracks. But the enthusiasm was only momentary; the game was considered,even by the most sanguine small boy of Cunjee, to be "all over barshouting."

  Jim had been bowling for some time from one end with fair results. Thebatsmen certainly took fewer liberties with him, and he managed toaccount for three of them for a comparatively low average. He hadallowed himself to become anxious, which is a bad thing for a bowlerwhen the score is creeping up and the batsmen are well set. Wallywatched his chum with some anxiety--there was none of the fire in hisbowling that had so often brought down the ground in a School match.

  "Wish he's wake up," said Wally to himself. "I'd like a chance to talkto him."

  The chance came when the field crossed over, disposed anew to harry aleft-handed batsman. Jim came over with his long, swinging walk, hishead a little bent. He started a little at his friend's voice.

  "You'll snore soon!" said Wally, incisively. "What on earth's thematter with you? Play up, School!"

  Jim stopped short a moment--and burst out laughing, Wally's indignantface glanced back over his shoulder as he ran off. There was a newspring in the bowler's walk as he went to his crease, and the smilestill lingered.

  The left-handed man faced him confidently--not many local bowlers couldtrouble him much, and being a large and well-whiskered gentleman, thetall schoolboy opposite to him sent no thrill of fear through his soul.But Jim had learned a thing or two at school about left-handed bats. Hetook a short run.

  On returning to the pavilion the whiskered one admitted that he knewreally nothing about the ball. It seemed to come from nowhere, and curlabout his bat as he lifted it to strike. How the bails came off was amystery to him, though it was unfortunately beyond question that theyhad not remained on. The left-hander removed his pads, ruminating.

  Cunjee, meanwhile, had cheered frantically, and Wally sent a Schoolyell ringing down the field. Jim's eye lit up anew as he heard it.

  "I do believe I've been asleep," he muttered.

  The new man was waiting for him, and he treated his first two ballswith respect. Then he grew bolder; hit him for a single, and snickedhim to the fence for four. There was a perceptible droop in the Cunjeespirits at the boundary hit. Then Jim bowled the last ball of the over,and there was a composite yell from Cunjee as the Mulgoa man pushed theball gently into the air just over Dr. Anderson's head. The littledoctor was pitifully hot, but he did not fail. The Mulgoa batsmanreturned to his friends.

  Dan Billings was a little worried. Much, he felt, depended on him, andhe had never been more comfortably set; but his men--would they be asreliable? He decided to hit out, and Mulgoa roared as the hundred wentup for a beautiful boundary hit. Six wickets were down, and Mulgoa was107 at the end of the over. It seemed safe enough.

  Jim took the ball again, his fingers pressing the red surface almostlovingly. He had quite waked up; his head was buzzing with "theories,"and his old power seemed to have come back to his fingers. The firstball came with a beautiful leg-break, and the Mulgoan bat swiped at itwildly, and vainly. Seven for 107.

  Cunjee was getting excited as the eighth man came in--a wiry and longyouth with a stolid face. He contented himself with blocking Jim'sbowling, snatching a single presently so that Billings would have theresponsibility--to which that gentleman promptly responded by smitingJim for three. That brought the stolid youth back to power--an honour hedid not wish. He hit the next ball softly back to the bowler. Eight for111; and Cunjee howling steadily, with all its youth, and some of itsbeauty, battering with sticks on tins. A dog ran across the ground, andwas greeted with a yell that made it scurry away in terror, its tailconcealed between its legs. Just then Cunjee had no time for dogs.

  But it was Mr. Billings' turn, and Mr. Billings was busy. He made gooduse of the over--the score mounted, and the Cunjee hopes swung lower. Itwas still eight--for 115--when a single brought his companion to facelittle Harry Blake, the other Cunjee bowler, who was plainly feelingthe weight of his positi
on. He sent the ball down nervously--it slippedas it left his hand, and the Mulgoan stepped out to meet it, whileHarry gasped with horror. Up, up, it soared--a boundary surely! Thenthere was a roar as Wally Meadows gathered himself together, raced, andsprang for the red disc, spinning over his head just at the fence. Itseemed to hover above him--then his hands closed, and, unable to stophimself, Wally somersaulted, rolling over and over in the long grass ofthe outfield. He sat up, his brown face lit by a wide smile, the ballstill clutched, held above his head. Nine for 115!

  The tension was on bowlers and batsmen alike now--all save Dan Billings,whose calmness was unimpaired. He greeted the tenth man cheerfully--andthe tenth man was Murty O'Toole, very hot and nervous, and certainlythe most miserable man on the ground as he faced "Masther Jim's"bowling, and knew that the alien hopes of Mulgoa depended on him. Outin the open a Mulgoa man shrugged his shoulders, remarking, "He won'ttry!" and was promptly attacked furiously by three small boys ofCunjee, who pelted him with clods and abuse from a safe distance. Murtylooked at Jim with a little half-apologetic gesture, and Jim grinned.

  "Play up, Murty, old chap!" he said.

  It was not in vain that he had schooled the stockman in the paddock atBillabong. He sent down a treacherous ball, and Murty met it and playedit boldly for two, amid Mulgoan shrieks. Two to tie and three towin--no, one fewer now, for the Irishman had turned a swift ball to leg,and only quick fielding had prevented a boundary. A hundred andseventeen! Murty heaved a sigh of relief as he leaned on his bat at thebowler's end and glanced across at Jim.

  "Praises be, 'twill be Billings to hit it, an' not O'Toole!" hemuttered. "I have put me fut in it sufficient f'r wance!"

  The ball left Jim's hand with a whizz, and Billings stepped out to meetit. Just what happened no one saw clearly for a moment, it all came topass so quickly. Then an Irish yell from Murty O'Toole woke the echoes,even as the bowler's hand flashed up above his head--and the bigstockman flung up his bat in an ecstasy of delight. Billings bit off asharp word and left his crease; and Cunjee woke to the fact that theMulgoan captain was caught and bowled. The match was theirs--by one run!

  When Cunjee woke it became very thoroughly awake. They rushed theground, cheering, shouting and hurling hats and caps into the air,irrespective of their owners' wishes. There was a demonstration tocarry Jim in, which that hero promptly quenched by taking to his heelsand leaving his too affectionate friends far in the rear. Behind himCunjee and Mulgoa seethed together, and the air was rent with cheers.Free fights were in active progress in at least five places on theground. It was clearly Cunjee's day out.

  Jim met Wally with a grin that was distinctly sheepish.

  "Knew you could!" said the Mentor, patting him happily on the back."Good old School! But what an ass you were, Jimmy!"

  "I was," said Jim, meekly.