The man had approached over the soft moss unheard, though Nic had had
warning of his coming from the cockatoos, which had shrieked out their
alarm notes as he came down from among the sheep.
"Why, Leather, I did not hear you coming," said Nic, half annoyed by the
interruption.
"I suppose not, sir. You were too intent. Don't they bite?"
"No, not a bit," said Nic gruffly; and to himself, "I wish he'd go."
"What are you fishing with, sir?"
"Worms."
"They will only take worms after a flood, when the water's thick."
Then without a word the man walked away, and Nic drew his line sharply
from the water.
"Might have told me what bait they would take," muttered the boy.
"Perhaps he doesn't know. Wish I had brought some paste. I don't care;
that's good enough bait for anything. Now, here, some of you--bite."
But they did not, and Nic sat upon a great stone, feeling rather
ill-used. He was glad the convict had gone, and at the same time sorry.
"I suppose I answered him very gruffly, and that sent him off," thought
Nic.
"Now, sir. I've caught a few of these."
Nic jumped again, for once more the man had approached in silence.
"Eh! what have you got?"
"Locusts, or grasshoppers, sir. Have you a nice-sized new hook?"
"Oh yes, plenty," cried Nic eagerly, opening a flat box from which the
man took one he thought suitable.
The next minute the hook bearing the great worm had been removed and one
good-sized shot only left on the line.
"Now,--sir," said Leather, "these grasshoppers are tender, so drop the
bait gently on the surface, right over yonder where the stream comes
round that end of the tree root.--Well done. Couldn't be better. Now
be on the look-out, sir."
The running water carried the great insect several feet into the still
water before the weight of the shot began to act. Then very slowly it
was drawn down beneath the surface, and they saw it descend and
disappear in the obscurity, the line being slowly drawn after it.
"They won't take that ugly, crooked-legged thing," said Nic. "Why, it
would choke any fish that ever breathed."
"Watch," said Leather quietly. "It takes some time to sink, for you
have only one shot on; but it looks more natural, and it has not yet
reached the fish. I think I'd draw in my slack line now, sir, and be
ready to strike gently."
"No good," said Nic, who, however, took the advice.
"If you do hook one, don't let it run in among the old tree trunks, sir.
If you do, the fish is lost. Directly you feel one, strike and lead it
to the other end of the pool, and get it out in the shallows, where I
can land it for you."
"Handle it carefully, Leather," said Nic, with a grim smile. "You see
your grasshoppers are no better than my worms. These fish don't
understand biting."
"No, sir, or they wouldn't have taken that locust. Steady, sir, steady.
That's a heavy one. Well done; you'll master it. Your tackle's
strong, and you must get it away from those roots and branches. That's
the way. I'll go on and wait."
For, quivering with excitement, his pliable rod bent into a bow, and the
line running sharply here and there through the water, Nic was following
a fish which had taken the bait with a rush deep down in the pool.
A minute later he had it near the surface, and had drawn it into the
stream which ran out of the deep hole, into the shallowest part of which
the convict had waded, and as soon as line and current had brought it
near enough, he gave one deft scoop with his joined hands and threw it
out on to the bank.
"I say! is it true?" cried Nic. "I can't hardly believe it."
"It looks true enough, sir," replied the man. "Shall I take it off the
hook?"
"Oh yes, please," cried Nic excitedly. "You've got some more of those
grasshoppers?"
"Three, sir," said Leather, as he laid the fish at the boy's feet, "and
I can soon get some more. You'll find these fish very good eating, but
you must catch a dishful."
"Why, Leather, you seem to know everything about the country."
"I have had a long training, sir. You will know more than I do when you
have been here two or three years. Now, then, throw in again."
"Here, hi! Do you know one of them sheep's falled down into a hole?
I'm sure master don't mean you to be wasting all your time out there,
and idling about like a schoolboy."
This was yelled hoarsely from some fifty yards away, and Nic saw that
his companion started as if he had been stung.
An angry speech was on Nic's lips at this interruption, but he checked
it, for he knew that he had no right to keep the man from his work.
"Coming directly," he said in loud tones. Then to. Leather: "Stop a
minute while I catch another, and then you shall go. You must land it
for me."
Brookes was not kept long waiting, for another fish was hooked and
landed in the same way; but before Leather had scooped it out Brookes
was shouting again furiously.
"Must go, sir," said the convict.
"Stop and I'll come with you," cried Nic, laying down his rod as soon as
the fish was unhooked, and he hurried with the man to where Brookes
stood talking, though half he said was inaudible.
"Here, Master Nic," he said, as they approached; "I dunno what your
father'll say. Here's one of his best sheep o' that new breed down in a
hole. You've no business to let that fellow leave his work."
"Where is it?" said Leather anxiously.
"Where is it? Where d'yer s'pose it is?" said Brookes fiercely. "Down
in the narrer."
"The sheep were all safe a few minutes ago," said Leather; and he ran
off.
"Oh, yes," said Brookes, in a sneering tone; "'course they were."
"Is it badly hurt?"
"Badly hurt? I s'pose so. It'll have to be killed."
He trudged on, muttering surlily, and Nic followed up on to the level
ground, where they could see the convict lowering himself down, only his
head and shoulders being visible.
The next minute they were standing at the edge of a narrow rift some six
feet wide and as many deep--a rift that ran on down into the valley they
had just quitted, and at the bottom of which lay a sheep bleating
piteously as Leather bestrode its woolly carcass.
"Why didn't you pull it out instead of coming sneaking after us?" cried
Nic.
"Eh? What?" cried Brookes, staring. "'Tain't my place to look after
they sheep. Leatherhead was set to do it, and he goes on neglecting his
work. Ah! here comes the master. Now we shall see."
For the doctor was coming cantering toward them over the level ground
from about a quarter of a mile away, and Nic felt vexed and in dread of
what was to follow.
"Is it hurt, Leather?" he said.
"Yes, sir, badly--its leg's broken," replied the man; and bending down,
he placed his arms round the poor animal, raised it up on to his
shoulder, and began to climb with difficulty out of the rift. As he
reached the edge he nearly slipped back.
"Why don't you help?" cried Nic angrily; but Brookes did not stir; and
if the boy had not darted forward and got a good pull of the wool, man
and sheep would have toppled backward to the bottom.
"Thank you, sir," said the convict. "There's no foothold, and I lost my
balance. One moment. That's it;" and the sheep was rolled off his
shoulder on to the grass.
"What's the matter?" cried the doctor, cantering up, leaping down, and
throwing the reins over his horse's head on to the grass, when the
beautiful animal stood still.
"One o' the best ewes down in that grip. I come and found it just now."
"Yes, but you didn't try to get it out," said Nic.
"It warn't in my charge," growled Brookes.
"How was this, my man?" said the doctor. "You were set to look after
them."
"Yes, sir," said the convict respectfully. "The sheep were all right a
quarter of an hour ago."
"Yes, and they'd ha' been all right now if you'd looked arter them
'stead o' wasting your time fishing," growled Brookes. "I'm glad
master's here to know."
"Were you fishing, sir?" said the doctor sternly; but before Leather
could answer Nic cried quickly:
"No, father, he wasn't. He came down to the river to get me a few
baits. I wanted him there. Why didn't Brookes help the sheep out?"
"Because it was the other man's duty, sir," said the doctor quickly; and
Leather gave the boy a sharp look, as much as to say, "Don't speak, sir;
you'll make things worse."
"Ah, you needn't signal the young master to take yer part," cried
Brookes. "It's true enough; you ain't worth your salt on the station."
"That will do, Brookes," said the doctor.
"Oh, I don't want to say nothing, sir. I was only looking arter your
property."
"Tut, tut, tut!" cried the doctor, as he felt the sheep's leg. "One of
my choicest ewes. The leg's broken. That active sheep couldn't have
broken its leg through falling down there. It would have jumped it like
a goat. Why, Leather, the poor brute has been savagely kicked."
"It looks like it, sir," said the convict quietly.
"Why, so it do," chimed in Brookes, as he bent over the helpless sheep.
"Do you know anything of it, sir?" cried the doctor, eyeing the convict
keenly.
The man shook his head.
"It's very strange," said the doctor, looking at Brookes, who took off
his hat, scratched his head, and looked round at the convict, while Nic
glanced at Brookes's boots and then at the poor sandal-like shoes the
convict wore, which were evidently a piece of his own work.
"Like me to kill the poor thing out of its misery, sir," said Brookes,
"and take off its skin?"
"No," said the doctor shortly.
"Won't be nothin' the matter with the meat, sir."
"Nic," said his father, "jump on the horse and ride home. Ask your
mother to give you a roll of bandage, and bring it back here."
"Yes, father."
"Why, you ain't going to bind that 'ere leg up, are ver?" said Brookes.
"Will you be good enough not to interrupt?" said the doctor. "Here, hi,
Nic, my boy. Tell Samson to give you a sack and an axe. You can throw
the sack across the horse."
"Yes, father," cried the boy; and he cantered off, obtained the bandage
and sack, and was back in less than an hour, to find that Leather had,
under the doctor's directions, cut some pieces of wood from a tree, and
with these for splints the doctor cleverly bandaged the broken leg.
"There, Nic," he said, "I should not do that in a regular way, but this
is a very valuable sheep, brought out to me by one of the last ships.
Now one of you cut a good stout pole, say twelve feet long."
Brookes looked at Leather, who caught up the axe and ran off.
While he was gone the doctor opened a part of the bottom of the sack,
and cut four slits in the side; and this being done, Nic looked on in
surprise while the sack was drawn over the struggling sheep's head, its
head pulled out of the bottom, and the legs put through the four slits.
"Now gather the sack together so that the poor brute cannot struggle
out, Brookes," said the doctor; and this was easily effected, as the
animal was upon its side.
Then the doctor made holes and laced up the mouth of the sack securely,
all but a few inches; and by this time Leather was back with a stout,
neatly trimmed pole.
"Do you see what I mean?" said the doctor.
"Yes, sir," replied the convict, and he slipped the pole through the
sack above the sheep's back, leaving about four feet out at each end.
"Now, Brookes, take the other end," said the doctor; "lift together, and
get the pole on your shoulders, both of you."
"What, and carry that lame sheep home?" said Brookes.
"Yes; and its legs must not touch the ground."
"But hadn't you better let us chuck it across the back of the horse?"
"No. Now, together. Lift," cried the doctor; and as this was done the
sheep gave a dismal bleat, and hung from the pole, with its head and
legs out,--a ridiculous-looking object, which made Nic smile, but
Brookes's face made the smile expand, so soured and puckered did it
become, for the sheep was heavy, the farm buildings were some distance
away, and the sun was coming down hot as the two men strode away,
Leather looking heavy and stern, but apparently ready to undertake any
amount of work.
"You can ride, Nic," said the doctor, as the boy fetched up the horse.
"But my fishing-rod and line, father?"
"Where are they?"
"Down yonder, by one of the pools."
"Oh, then you must go that way home."
"Yes, father, and I have two fish."
"Well done."
"I say, father, I feel sure that Leather did not kick that sheep."
"Who did then?" said the doctor.
"I don't like to say, father."
"That is suggesting your belief that it was Brookes, a man whom I have
always found to work well in my interests, Nic. He has no spite against
me."
"Do you think the other man has?"
"I don't know, boy. There, go on your way, and I'll go home. One word,
Nic. I want you to enjoy yourself, but I cannot have my men taken away
from their work, mind that."
The doctor cantered after the men bearing the sheep, and as Nic stood
for a few minutes watching them, he heard the sheep give a piteous baa,
as if protesting against its treatment, after which the men halted and
changed shoulders.
Nic was too far off to see the expression of the men's faces, but he
felt pretty certain that Brookes's was anything but pleasant, and he
felt glad.
"I believe he did that out of spite against Leather," thought Nic, "so
as to make it seem as if it was through neglect. I don't know, though,
a man could hardly be such a brute."
Nic descended into the little valley once more, and made his way along
by the stream to the pool where he had left his rod.
"There's one more locust," he said to himself; "and I'll try and catch
another fish. Three will make a much better show. I dare say one would
bite directly;" and determined to spend a few minutes in adding to his
brace, he hurried on, thinking how beautiful the great, dense clump of
trees on the other side of the stream appeared, many of them drooping
gracefully over the water.
"The beauty of a place like this is," he thought, "that you can leave
things about and there is no one to take them."
He smiled as he picked up his rod, drew the line through his fingers,
and baited the hook with the great insect ready to cast right over into
the stream so that the locust might be washed naturally into the sunlit
pool.
"Now, if I can catch another as big as the--Hullo! where are those
fish?"
Nic did not cast the locust, but stared hard at the spot where the fish
had been laid down upon some fern leaves; but though the latter were
still glistening with slime, the prizes were gone.
"They must have flopped their way back into the water," said Nic to
himself; "they went that way because it was all on a slope. Well, of
all the tiresome nuisances I ever knew, this is about the worst. I
wouldn't have lost those fish for anything. They must have flopped to
and fro down here and over that soft place."
Nic's thoughts stood still. The soft place he alluded to was close down
to the shallow where Leather had waded in, and the water which had
dripped from his legs lay upon the herbage and soft, dank, moist earth;
but there was something else--footprints! Not Leather's, made by broad
shoe-soles, but newly impressed marks with wide-spreading toes, the big
toe in each case being rather thumb-like in its separation from the
others.
For some two or three minutes Nic did not stir, but bent down staring at
those footprints. Then he glanced sharply over the shallows at the
thick foliage, fully expecting to see a spear come flying at him.
"That's the way my fish went," he muttered as he turned and fled,
feeling a sudden check the next minute, as if some one had seized the
rod which hung over his shoulder, and a thrill of fear ran through him
as he turned sharply round, when snap went the line, and he saw that the
hook and locust were sticking in an overhanging bough, and about a yard
of the line was hanging down.
That was enough to drive away some of his fear, but not all.
"One can't fight blacks with fishing-rods," muttered the boy as he again
began to run, and he made his way homeward more quickly than he had
come, and did not pause once to look back, though if he had it was
doubtful whether he would have seen the cunning black face peering from
out of the wattle scrub, watching him as he ran in and out through the
trees, and then disappearing as soon as Nic was out of sight.
The fugitive did not pause till he reached home bathed in perspiration,
just as his father rode slowly in side by side with the laden men, they
having taken a shorter cut while he had followed the wanderings of the
stream.
"Ah, Nic," cried his father, "you shouldn't run and overheat yourself
like that, boy. Now, men, carry the poor beast into the stable and rest
the pole on the rails; its hoofs will then be about five inches from the
ground.--What?"
"Blackfellows, father," said Nic, as soon as he could get his breath; "I
saw their footmarks, and they have carried off my fish."