CHAPTER XVII
ON THE HILLSIDE
Never again, when the soft winds blow, We shall ride by the river. G. ESSEX EVANS.
Wally came into breakfast with a rush and a scramble, bearing traces ofa hasty toilet. At the table Norah and Jim were eating solemnly, withexpressions of deep disapproval. They did not raise their eyes as Wallyentered.
"Awfully sorry!" said he. "You've no idea of the difficulties I've hadto overcome, Norah, and all along of him!" indicating Jim with a jerkof his head. "Oh, Norah, do be sympathetic, and forget that he's yourbrother. I assure you I'd be a far better brother to you than ever hecould, and you can have me cheap! Look up at me, Norah, and smile--oneperfect grin is all I ask! He took my towel and dressed Tait in it, andfor all he cared I would be swimming in that beastly lagoon yet, anddying of cramp, and nervous prostration, and housemaid's knee. And shegoes on gnawing a chop!"
He sat down, and buried his face in his hands tragically, and began tosob, whereat Norah and Jim laughed, and the victim of circumstancesrecovered with promptitude.
"Cream, please," he said, attacking his porridge. "Oh, he's a beast,Norah. I'm blessed if I know why you keep him in the family--it can't befor either his manners or his looks! I have a hectic cough coming onrapidly. My uncle by marriage three times removed died of consumption,and it's a thing I've always been nervous about. When I occupy thefamily urn with my ashes you'll be sorry!"
"I should be more than sorry if it were this urn," Jim put in,grinning. "It might be an honour, of course; but we've other homelyuses for the urn. How long did you swim, Wal.?"
"Never you mind," returned Wally wrathfully. "I don't see why I shouldsatisfy any part of your fiendish curiosity--only when Brownie findsTait wearing one of the best bath towels as a toga, and makes remarksabout it, I shall certainly refer her to you!"
"I never saw a dog look so miserable as he did," Norah said, laughing."He came straight up to me, with a truly hang-dog air, and folds oftowel ever so far behind him in the grass, and didn't get back hisself-respect until I took it off. Poor old Tait! You really ought to beashamed of yourself, Jimmy."
"I am," said Jim cheerfully. "Toast, please."
"When I saw Tait last he was disappearing into the landscape with allhis blushing honours thick upon him!" Wally said. "I don't see why youwaste all your sympathy on the brute, and give me none. It's thegreatest wonder I'm here at all!"
"Where's Cecil, anyhow?" asked Jim, suddenly.
"Haven't an idea--how should I? He wasn't in the lagoon, which is theonly place I could give an expert opinion on this morning."
"Oh, he's late as usual," Norah said. "I suppose he's still cross aboutlast night. Really, Jim, I'm sorry we've managed to rub him up thewrong way."
"Why, the difficulty would be to find the right way," Jim retorted."He's such a cross-grained beggar--you never know when you're going tooffend him; and of course he's perfectly idiotic about the horses.Wonder if he thinks we LIKE horses with sore backs and mouths! He'llhave to give poor old Betty a spell, anyhow, for she's a patch on herback the size of half a crown, thanks to him."
"Oh, dear!" said Norah, with a little shiver. "That's awfully badnews--'cause I'd about made up my mind to offer him Bobs!"
"Offer--him--Bobs!" said Jim slowly. Wally gasped.
"Just for a ride, Jimmy. He's a guest, you know, and I don't like himto feel ill-used. And you let him on Garryowen."
"Only for a moment--and then with my heart in my boots!" said Jim."Norah, I think you're utterly mad if you lend him Bobs--after lastnight, too! Why, you know jolly well I'VE never asked you for yourpony!"
"Well, you could have had him," Norah answered, "you know that, Jimmy.I don't want to lend him to Cecil--I simply hate it; but I don't likethe idea of his thinking we treated him at all badly."
"He's the sort of chap that would find a grievance if you gaveeverything you had in the world," Jim said. "It's all rot--and I tellyou straight, Nor., I don't think it's safe, either. Bobs is all rightwith you, of course, but he's a fiery little beggar, and there's noknowing what he'd do with a sack of flour like that on his back. I wishyou wouldn't."
"What do you think, Wally?"
"Me? Oh, I'm with Jim," Wally answered. "Personally, I think avelocipede is about Cecil's form, and it's absolute insult to a ponylike Bobs to ask him to carry him! And you'd hate it so, Nor.'!"
"Oh, I know I would," Norah said. "He's such a dear--"
"What! Cecil?"
"No, you donkey--Bobs," Norah continued, laughing. "I'd feel likebegging his pardon all the time. But--"
"Murty wants to see you, Master Jim," said Mary, entering. "Says he'dbe glad if you could spare him a minute."
"All right, Mary--thank you," said Jim, getting up lazily and strollingout. "Back in a minute, you two."
"What happens to-day, Norah? Marmalade, please," said Wally, in abreath.
"The marmalade happens on the spot," laughed Norah, handing it to him."Otherwise--oh, I don't know, unless we ride out somewhere and fish. Wehaven't been out to Angler's Bend this time, have we?"
"No, but that's fifteen miles. You'd never let Cecil ride Bobs thatdistance?"
"Oh, I couldn't!" said Norah, hastily. "I don't think I possibly couldride anything except Bobs out there. Cecil might have him another day,if Jim doesn't think me quite mad. Perhaps I won't be sorry if he does,'cause I'd hate to go against Jim! And Bobs is--"
"Bobs," said Wally gravely; and Norah smiled at him. "Hallo,Jamesy--what passion hangs these weights upon thy brow?"
Jim had entered quickly.
"It's that beauty Cecil," he said, angrily. "My word, Norah, I'll letthat young man know what I think about him! He's taken Bobs!"
"What!"
"Gone out on Bobs before breakfast. Must have got him in the yard, andsaddled him himself. Murty saw him just as he was riding off, and triedto stop him. Here's Murty--he'll tell you."
"Sure, I towld him to stop, Miss Norah," said the stock-man. "Axed him,I did, if he'd y'r lave, and he gev me back-answers as free as y'please. I was perfickly calm, an never losht me timper, an' towld himI'd pull him off av the little harse if he'd not the lave to take him;an' he put the comether on me by cantherin' off. So I waited, thinkin'not to worry y', an' that he'd be comin' back; or more be token Bobswidout him, an' small loss. But he's elsewhere yit, so I kem in f'rMasther Jim."
"Well, I'm blessed!" said Norah, weakly.
"The mean little toad!" Wally's voice was full of scorn. "I'd like fivequiet minutes with him with coats off when he comes back!"
"I guess he'll get that--or its equivalent," said Jim, grimly. "Whichway did he go, Murty?"
"To the bush paddock, Masther Jim. He's that stupid, tin to one he'sbushed in one av thim gullies."
"Or else Bobs has slung him; but in that case Bobs would be back at thegate," Jim said. "Perhaps he is."
"No, he ain't, Masther Jim, I wint over a bit an' had a look. There'sno sign av either av thim."
"Well, I suppose we'd better go after them," Jim said. "What'll youride, Nor? Would you care for Garryowen?"
Norah smiled at him.
"No, thanks, old man. I'll have Cirdar," she said. "Can you get him,Murty?"
"In two twos, Miss Norah," said the stockman, departing hastily.
"You're not worried, Norah, old girl?" Jim said.
"Why, not exactly; he can't hurt Bobs, of course, beyond a sore back,"Norah answered. "I'm more cross than worried--it is such cheek, Jim,isn't it? All the same, I hope Cecil's all right."
"Him!" said Jim, with fine scorn. "That sort never comes to any harm.Well, hurry up, and get your habit on, old chap."
There was no need to tell Norah to hurry. She flew upstairs, Brownieplodding after; the news had flown round the house in a few moments,and there was a storm of indignation against the absent Cecil.
"If I'd knowed!" said Brownie, darkly, bringing Norah's linen coat outfrom the wardrobe, and seeking with vigour for a felt hat that alreadywas on he
r head. "Me, givin' him tea and scones, an' talkin' about thepony, too, no less; little I guessed at the depths of him. Never mind,my dearie, Master Jim'll deal with him!"
"Oh, it'll be all right, if Bobs hasn't hurt him. Only there'll be anawful row when Jim gets him. I never saw Jim so angry," Norah said.
"A good thing, too!" said the warlike Mrs. Brown. "There you are,dearie, an' there's your 'unting-crop. Off you go!" and Norah randownstairs, finding Jim and Wally waiting, boots and leggings on. Theyset off, Murty muttering dark threats against Cecil as he shut the gateof the stable yard after them.
Wally had recovered his cheerfulness, never long absent from him, andwas, besides, not unpleasantly excited at the thought of war ahead. Hechattered gaily as they rode through the first two paddocks. But Jimremained quiet. As Norah said, she had never seen him so angry. Anxietyin his mind warred with hot anger against the insult to Norah and tothem all. He swept the bush paddock with his eye as they came up to it,seeing nothing but the scattered bullocks here and there.
"Wonder which way he'd go," he said. "Suppose you and Wally cut over tothe right, Norah, and see if you can find any trace. I'll go over thisway. We'll coo-ee to each other if we come across him." They separated,and Jim put Garryowen at a canter across the plain. Here and there hecould see a track--and something made him wish to go on alone.
He was nearly at the foot of the hills when a figure came out fromtheir shadow. Jim gave a sudden little sound in his throat as he sawthat it was Cecil--and alone. He was limping a little, and had evidentlybeen down. Relief that he was safe was the first thought; then, anxietybeing done with, there was no room for anything but anger. Jim rodetowards him. At the sight of his approach Cecil started a little, andcast a glance round as if looking for a hiding place; then he came ondoggedly, his head down.
"I've been looking for you," Jim said, controlling his voice withdifficulty. "Where's Bobs?"
"Over there." Cecil jerked his hand backwards.
"Where?"
"Back there."
"What do you mean? did he get away from you?"
"He bolted," Cecil said.
"And threw you?"
Cecil nodded. "Yes--can't you see I'm limping?"
"Well, did he clear out again?"
"No--he's over there."
Jim's face went grim. "Do you mean--you don't mean the pony's HURT?"
"He won't get up," said Cecil, sullenly. "I've tried my best."
For a moment they faced each other, and then Cecil quailed under theyounger boy's look. His eyes fell.
Jim jumped off. "Go on."
"Where?"
"Back to Bobs, of course. Hurry up!"
"I can't go back there," Cecil said, angrily. "I'm limping, and--"
"Do you think your limp matters an atom just now?" Jim said, throughhis teeth. "Hurry up."
He followed Cecil, not trusting himself to speak. A dull despair lay onhis heart, and above everything a great wave of pity for the littlesister across the paddock. If he could spare Norah--!
Then they were in the gully, and he saw Bobs above him, and knew inthat instant that he could spare her nothing. The bay pony lay where hehad fallen, his head flung outwards; helplessness in every line of theframe that had been a model of strength and beauty an hour ago. As Jimlooked Bobs beat his head three times against the ground, and then laystill. The boy flung round, sick with horror.
"Why, you vile little wretch--you've killed him!"
He had Cecil in a grip of iron, shaking him as a dog shakes a rat--notknowing what he did in the sick fury that possessed him. Then suddenlyhe stopped and hurled him from him into the bracken. He ran down thegully.
"Go back, Norah dear--don't come."
Norah and Wally had come cantering quickly round the shoulder of thehill. She was laughing at something Wally had said as they rode intothe gully, and the laugh was still on her lips as she looked at Jim.Then she saw his face, and it died away.
"What is it, Jim?"
"Don't come, kiddie," the boy said, wretchedly. "Wally, you take herhome."
"Why?" said Norah. "We saw Cecil--where's Bobs?" Her eyes were wanderinground the gully. They passed Cecil, lying on his face in the bracken,and travelled further up the hill. Then she turned suddenly white, andflung herself off Sirdar.
Jim caught her as she came blindly past him.
"Kiddie--it's no good--you mustn't!"
"I must," she said, and broke from him, running up the hillside. Jimfollowed her with a long stride, his arm round her as she stumbledthrough the ferns and boulders. When they came to Bobs he held her backfor a moment.
The pony was nearly done. As they looked his head beat the ground againunavailingly, and at the piteous sight a dry sob broke from Norah, andshe went on her knees by him.
"Norah--dear little chap--you mustn't." Jim's voice was choking. "Hedoesn't know what he's doing, poor old boy--it isn't safe."
"He wants me," she said. "Bobs--dear Bobs!"
At the voice he knew the pony quivered and struggled to rise. It was nouse--he fell back, though the beautiful head lifted itself, and thebrown eyes tried to find her. She sat down and took his head on herknee, stroking his neck and speaking to him... broken, pitiful words.Presently she put her cheek down to him, and crouched there above him.Something of his agony died out of Bobs' eyes. He did not struggle anymore. After a little he gave a long shiver, straightening out; and sodied, gently.
* * * * *
"Come on home, old kiddie."
It seemed a long time after, Norah could not think of a time when shehad done anything but sit with that quiet head on her knee. Sheshuddered all over.
"I can't leave him."
"You must come, dear." Jim's hands were lifting Bobs' head as tenderlyas she herself could have done it. He picked her up and held her asthough she had been a baby, and she clung to him, shaking.
"If I could help you!" he said, and there were tears in his eyes. "Oh,Nor.--you know, don't you?"
He felt her hand tighten on his arm. Then he carried her down the hill,where Garryowen stood waiting.
"The others have gone," he said. "I sent them home--Wally and--thatbrute! I've told him to go--I'll kill him if I see him again!" He liftedher into his saddle, and keeping his arms round her, walked beside thebay horse down the gully and out upon the plain.
"Jim," she whispered--somewhere her voice had gone away--"you can't gohome like that. Let me walk." His arm tightened.
"I'm all right," he said--"poor little mate!"
They did not speak again until they were nearly home--where, ahead,Brownie waited, her kind eyes red; while every man about the homesteadwas near the gate, a stern-faced, angry group that talked in savageundertones. Murty came forward as Jim lifted Norah down.
"Miss Norah," he said. "Miss Norah, dear--sure I'd sooner--"
The tall fellow's voice broke as he looked at the white, childish face.
"Thanks, Murty," Norah said steadily.
"And--all of you." She turned from the pitying faces, and ran indoors.
"Oh, Brownie, don't let any one see me!"
Then came a dazed time, when she did not know anything clearly. Once,lying on her bed, with her face pressed into the pillow, trying not tosee a lean head that beat on the ground, she heard a dull sound thatrose to an angry shout from the men; and immediately the buggy droveaway quickly, as Wally took Cecil away from Billabong. She onlyshivered, pressing her face harder. Jim was always near at first; thetouch of his hand made her calm when dreadful, shuddering fits cameover her. All through the night he sat by her bed, watchingceaselessly.
Then there was a longer time when she was alone, and there seemed muchgoing to and fro. But no sounds touched her nearly. She could onlythink of Bobs, lying in the bracken, and calling silently to her withhis pain-filled eyes.
Then, late on, the second evening, Jim came back with a troubled faceand sat on the bed.
"Norah," he said, "I want you."
"Yes, Jim?"
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br /> "I want you to be brave, old chap," he said slowly. Something in histone made her start and scan his tired face.
"What is it?" she asked.
"It may be all right," Jim said, "but--but I thought I'd better tellyou, Norah, they--we can't find Dad!"
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