Nic's announcement caused a little panic. The three blacks who came and
went about the place were summoned and sent out searching, the house was
placed in a state of defence, and Samson, Brookes, and Leather all
furnished with guns and ammunition to stand ready for any emergency,
taking it in turns though to keep watch, while horses and cattle were
driven into the south enclosures by the house, and everything possible
done to secure their safety.
Knowing his mother's nervousness, Nic could not help staring in wonder
at the calm way in which she and her daughters behaved at what might,
for aught they could tell, be a dangerous time, for neither showed the
slightest trace of fear.
In a couple of hours, though, the black known as Bungarolo came back to
announce that, "Blackfellow all agone," and he pointed away toward the
dense bush, miles from where they were standing.
The explanation of the other two blacks when they returned cleared away
the rest of the alarm, the doctor concluding that a few of the many
wanderers had been near and gone away again, blacks probably belonging
to a friendly tribe.
Consequently the next day matters went on as usual, save that Nic had to
mount with his father, and, accompanied by two of their blacks, made a
wide circuit about the station, touching the edge of the great gorge at
one point and then riding round for miles.
Twice over the men, who trotted along easily enough step for step with
the horses, pointed out tracks going and coming; and as the party was
made out to be three only it was felt that there was no cause for alarm,
and toward evening they rode back to the station with the glad news.
"But wouldn't it have been very awkward for them if the blacks had come
while we were away, father?" Nic ventured to ask on their way back.
"Yes, but they would have shut themselves in at once," said the doctor;
"two of the men would have been with them, and the other would have
followed us, firing signals as he came. If the danger had been
imminent, he would have seized the first horse and galloped over to Mr
Dillon's station."
"I see," said Nic.
"It's mutual help out here, Nic. If one station is in danger, those
nearest are always ready to gallop to its help."
Then came days and weeks of busy life, with Nic finding little time for
amusement, but enjoying the novelty of his new career. There were long
rides to drive in cattle; visits to be paid to flocks miles away from
the station; messages to be taken to Samson, Brookes, or Leather, who in
turn were far away with the roaming sheep or oxen; and the boy was joked
at home by mother and sisters for the way he ate, slept, and seemed to
expand.
During this period he saw little of Leather, and the incident of the
injured sheep and Brookes's apparent enmity toward the convict was for
the time forgotten, these two rarely being together.
Still, at different times Nic could not help noticing what a rooted
dislike there was in the regular men against their convict
fellow-servant, even old Samson shaking his head and expressing his
belief that the station would be far better without "such as he."
"I don't want to be hard on anything 'cept blight, Master Nic," said the
old man one day; "but it comes nat'ral to a man to feel shy of a gaol
bird who may rise agen you at any time and take to the bush."
"Oh, but Leather is not that sort of man, Sam," said Nic.
"Ah, that's very nice, young gentleman; but you don't know, and I don't
know. All I say is if there's a bull about on that side o' the fence
it's best to walk on this."
"But the bull may not mean to do you harm, Sam."
"P'r'aps not, sir; but bulls have mad fits now and then, so does
convicts. I've know'd two stations 'tacked and every one killed, and
they said it was the blacks; but they very soon found that it warn't,
for in each case a lot had escaped from the chain gang, took to the
bush, and every 'signed servant as they come across jyned 'em."
"That's very horrible," said Nic. "And what became of them?"
"Ah, you may well say that, sir: some was shot down by the soldiers,
some was killed by the natives, some was lost in the bush and died o'
hunger and thirst, while the blacks speared the rest all but one, and he
gave himself up. They do a lot o' mischief, these chaps, when they take
to the bush, sir; but, fortunately for honest folk, they all come to a
bad end."
Then came a more leisure time, when old Samson took a holiday, as he
called it--that is to say, he worked from daylight to darkness over his
rather neglected garden; while Nic had leisure to think again of his
natural history specimens, and went out with his gun; but he did not
feel at all keen about sitting down in a woody place near the river to
fish and offer himself as a mark for any black who meant to practise
hurling his spear. It was so much more satisfactory to mount Sour
Sorrel and ride off, gun in hand, through the open woodland with the
soft breeze sweeping by his cheek, and pick up a beautifully feathered
bird from time to time.
The injured sheep had grown quite well, and, save that it limped as it
grazed, its leg was as strong as ever; "and that lameness does not
interfere with its promising to be a good mother," said the doctor,
smiling, as he pointed to the pair of white lambs gambolling by the lame
sheep's side.
"Did you ever satisfy yourself as to how its leg was broken?" said Nic.
"No, my boy; and I did not want to. I have my suspicions, but I let
them rest. It is the same at most of the stations--the free men dislike
the bond. It is natural. And now that things are going on peaceably,
we will let them rest."
One day, quite by accident, the boy found himself thrown in contact
again with Leather, whose brown, deeply lined countenance always
brightened when Nic came across him somewhere with his sheep.
"I say, Leather," he said, as he sat on his nag watching the man busily
carving a stick he had cut: "you remember telling me about how the
blacks followed the bees?"
"Yes, sir."
"Can you show me?"
"Yes," said Leather, smiling sadly; and he looked about till he found a
tree with some of its seed-vessels full of fine silky cotton, smeared
one end of a twig with a bead of gum from another tree, and then walked
on, followed by Nic, till they came to a patch of bushes, whose fragrant
blossoms had attracted the bees by the dozen.
One pollen-laden fellow was soon caught, the gum stick touched its back,
the white cotton was brought in contact, and the uninjured insect set
free.
Up in the air it went at once, regardless of the yellow flowers among
which it had been buzzing, and then flew away in a straight line, with
its white patch on its back, to be traced some forty or fifty yards,
before it disappeared among the trees.
"Gone!" said Nic, who was in advance, for he had followed the insect on
horseback. "Think there's a tree here?"
"No; these are not the kind of trees they nest in. They do not go
hollow."
"What will you do, then?"
"Repeat the process, sir."
And this was done four times, till the last bee was traced to a quarter
of a mile from where they started, and a tiny hole was made out sixty
feet from the ground, about which scores of little dark insects could be
seen darting.
"Now how to get the honey?" said Nic.
"Send or bring Bungarolo here to-morrow with an axe and a bucket, and
you shall have plenty."
Eager to see the taking of the spoil, Nic was over in good time next
morning, the black trotting by his side; and upon reaching the tree the
Australian savage took the axe from his waistcloth, while Leather lit a
great piece of touchwood by means of a burning glass. This wood began
to burn, emitting a dense white smoke, and as the convict waved it
about, the black took off his waistcloth, passed it through the handle
of the bucket, and tied it again about his middle, so that the bucket
hung behind. Then, axe in hand, he began to chop notches in the soft
bark, to make steps for his active feet, and climbed steadily up and up,
Nic watching him the while.
"It looks very dangerous," said the boy. "Think he is likely to fall?"
"Not in the least, sir. They begin doing these things when children,
and they don't seem to have any nerves."
It seemed indeed as if the black did not know fear, for he went on up
and up till he was fully sixty feet from the ground, and here he held on
with his legs while he undid his waistcloth once more and tied it now to
a branch, so that the bucket hung close to the hole where the bees
buzzed in and out, as if feeling in no wise incommoded by the black face
so near.
And now Bungarolo stuck the axe into the soft bark and rapidly
descended, grinning hugely at his success. Leather handed him the
smoking torch, and he went up again, holding the end of the soft wood in
his teeth.
On reaching the hole, the smoke which had accompanied him in his ascent
became thicker, and being held just below the entrance, scared away the
bees coming back, and those coming out into pouring forth faster and
faster, till there was quite a cloud darting about above that of the
blinding wood smoke.
Then a few cleverly directed strokes of the axe made a big opening
through the bark, the axe was thrown down, and the black's arm thrust in
right up to the shoulder, and his hand drawn out bearing a great cake of
honeycomb.
This he deposited in the bucket, pausing now and then to give the
smoking wood a wave, or to hold it inside the opening, to drive out the
bees before bringing out more and more comb, till the bucket was pretty
well full.
And now the most difficult task seemed to await the black; but he held
on again with his legs, untied the waist cloth, rested the bucket on his
chest, while he knotted the cloth ends together again, and slipped it
over his head. Then, taking the smoking wood from where he had placed
it inside the hole, he threw it down and descended safe and triumphant,
to begin cleaning his sticky hands after the fashion of a cat, before
bearing the bucket back to the station, where Mrs Braydon gave him a
lump of damper for a reward.