Bob's Triumph
It was three days after the Shadow's departure. The sun was shining
fiercely on Golden Flat, and its scintillating rays reflected from the
white mullock heaps at the various workings caused the eyes of the
miners when they came to the surface to quiver and close painfully. The
air was filled with dancing sand particles, and they shimmered
kaleidoscope-like in the intense heat haze which rose and fell on the
surface of the land like the waters of a boundless ethereal sea. The
regular thud, thud of picks resounded loudly from the end of the lead
where Nuggety Dick and his brawny compatriots were doggedly digging out
the golden gravel, and away at the other end of the field Macguire's
satellites made noisy din as they busied themselves sinking several
shafts over the supposed trend of the mysterious channel.
The weather had been excessively hot since the Shadow left, and this
fact had done much to restore the spirits of the gang, for, judging from
their own feelings, they considered that the energy of Mackay's
messenger would be spent long before he could hope to reach the
township. At the Golden Promise the windlass was deserted, and the red
symbol hung limp overhead. But it was not lack of energy that had
occasioned this apparent lapse of duty. Mackay and Jack had been in the
tent all morning watching Bob's final experiments with the refractory
clay formation which were to decide whether or no the great bulk of the
Flat's treasure could be saved to them. Bob's head was now quite better,
but prolonged study in a clime which is not adapted for acute mental
effort had made his young face appear drawn and haggard, yet his eyes
shone with the light of enthusiasm as he busied himself with his rather
crude appliances and set them in order for a last conclusive test.
Mackay had hastily constructed a small vat for him, made from the
hardest wood to be found in the bush, with an overflow tap some halfway
up its height. This the young chemist now quarter filled with the
crushed compound to be tested, and made up the level with water, to
which he afterwards added some salt.
"It will ensure its conductivity," he explained; but neither Mackay nor
Jack were much enlightened, so they held their peace. Next a rubber
tube, with an oddly-conceived wooden shield on its exposed extremity was
thrust into the receptacle, then a small bottle containing some liquid
which bubbled and effervesced alarmingly, was brought forward, and its
loose nozzle connected to the free end of the tube.
"A simple method of generating hydrogen," said Bob dreamily, "just iron
pebbles and very dilute sulphuric acid." Mackay ventured a non-committal
grunt, but Jack's face now showed keen appreciation. Lastly the two
wires of a very small electric battery--Bob's own manufacture--were
connected to corresponding metallic sheets lining the opposing ends of
the vat. "That is merely as an added assistance to help the decomposing
of the stuff into its elements," muttered Bob; then he fixed the nozzle
of the hydrogen generator tightly and stepped back.
At once a gurgling boiling sound arose from the vat, and its contents
swelled up in bubbling circles of slime and soapy ooze. Mackay, obeying
a motion from Bob, hastily pulled out the overflow tap, and so caused
the more solid matter within to subside. Again Bob loaded the vat, and
again Mackay allowed the foaming mass to overflow, and never a word was
spoken. The operation was repeated until fully a hundredweight of the
refractory substance had been utilized, and by this time the floor of
the tent was aswim with the dense oily scum let loose.
"That should be enough to calculate on," said Bob. "And now comes the
crucial point." He undid all connections and handed the muddy box to
Mackay, who took it silently, and emptied the coarse sandy residue into
an awaiting gold-pan.
"It's lost its puggy nature, anyway," he commented, pouring on it some
water from a kerosene tin. He gave the pan a rapid swirl, then an
oblique turn, and gasped. The bottom of the basin was literally covered
with a thin film of the finest imaginable golden grains, which blazed
and sparkled in the penetrating sunlight!
Bob looked and heaved a sigh of profound thankfulness. Jack looked, and
celebrated his joy by whooping like a red Indian. Mackay looked and
looked, indeed, he did not once take his eyes off the dazzling
spectacle. Bob guessed his fears, and at once dispersed them.
"It's the genuine article this time," he said with assurance. "If it was
going to melt away it would have done so in the acid solution; but the
fact is it has just been set free from the solution, and so is now as
stable and tangible as the sands of the desert."
The rough, horny handed pioneer set the pan down on the floor, and wiped
the beaded perspiration from his forehead, then he reached out his great
fist and took Bob's hand in a fervent grasp.
"It's no' often I have to acknowledge a better man than mysel'," he said
grimly; "but I must admit you've knocked the wind clean out o' me wi'
this grand process o' yours. Why, my laddie, it means fortune for you in
the years to come, an ever growin' fortune, for ye can charge what ye
like for your discovery. An' you little mair than a youngster, too! Man,
Bob, you've got a held that any professor might well envy."
Bob laughed right heartily as he returned the elder man's grip. The
tension on his nerves had gone, and he felt almost constrained, like
Jack, to shout in his gladness.
"If it means fortune, I shall refuse to take more than my third of it,"
he said, with grave emphasis. "This is a partnership affair. I'd rather
break the whole concern up now than make a halfpenny that you two didn't
share." Then he gave utterance to a firm, fixed belief, which had done
much to sustain him during his intricate studies of the deceptive
formation. "As for my youth," he continued, with a smile, and addressing
himself more directly to Mackay, "I won't allow that that should entitle
me to any credit, for the same brain is with us always, and, surely,
when it is young, and fully developed, it should be able to grasp and
evolve theories which, when older, it would hesitate to accept. The
beaten track is so hard to forsake when one grows old in text-book
experience. If the ordinary science professor came along here now and
examined my theories concerning this stuff and its treatment, without
being shown their proof in practice, he would call them absurd and
irrational. And why? Because I have gone wide of all precedent and
text-book knowledge, and treated the compound for gold in an unstable
state, and in that unstable state it is not supposed to exist." The
young man spoke clearly and logically, yet with an unusual twinkle in
his keen blue eyes.
When he had finished, Mackay ventured a word of admonition.
"Too much study when the brain is young, Bob," said he, "is vera
dangerous indeed, though I quite agree wi' you in your line o' argument.
Young genius, hooever, blossoms an' dees like the flowers of the
spring--they never reach their summer; so the auld fossilized,
follow-my-leader blockheads exist and flourish an' are aye wi' us. But
I'll see that ye dinna work oot any more scientific problems for a bit.
It'll be a grand relaxation after this for you to study the beauties o'
Nature as shown in the Never Never country back here." He laughed
sardonically, and waved his hand towards the unknown east.
"I'll be with you whenever you are ready," answered Bob, eagerly.
"And I'll bet you won't shake me out of it," spoke up Jack; and Mackay
was comforted.
The sound of approaching footsteps was now heard outside the tent.
Mackay hastily seized the gold pan, and placed it out of sight.
"Not a word aboot the discovery," he advised. "It will keep for a bit,
until we hear what Macguire's tactics are."
A second more, and Emu Bill popped his head inside. "Hang ye, Mac,"
said he, "I've nearly burst myself hollerin' down that shaft o' yours. I
didn't think you'd be loafin' round at this time o' day, I didn't."
"What's that you've got in your fist?" asked Mackay, evading all
explanations, and glancing at a huge, greyish fragment which Emu Bill
was carrying abstractedly about.
"Oh--that? That's another specimen I wanted to show ye. The gold in it
fairly howled at me down the shaft; but there ain't enough in it now to
fill a muskittie's eye. All my wash has made into the humbuggin' stuff
now. I'll have to give it best, boys, I will."
The resigned melancholy of his voice worked strangely on the feelings of
Bob and Jack, and they gazed questioningly at Mackay, who nodded.
"Ay, show it to him, Bob," said he. "I think the Emu kens well enough
hoo to haud his tongue."
"My goodness, mates," faltered Bill, in an awed whisper, when he saw the
pan, "that is an almighty fine prospect. I reckon it must be
twenty-ounce stuff. Where in thunder did ye get it?"
"It came from your shaft, Emu," said Bob. "It's the same deceiving
miradgy humbugging material as that you've got in your hand. I've just
found out how to bring back the gold after it fades away."
Emu Bill stared in amazement. "Will somebody kindly kick me?" he
murmured feebly. "Is my sight goin' back on me again, or is it a real
honest fact that hits me on the optic nerve?"
But he was soon led to understand that the gold in the pan was no
delusion of the senses--that it was indeed a solid, substantial
quantity.
"I takes off my hat to you, Bob," he said, with a little catch in his
usually strong voice; and he suited the action to the word. "This'll
mean new life to the whole Flat; an' I hope it'll spell fortune to you,
my lad. What a pity Macguire's crowd got hitched on alongside the Golden
Promise. They'll hit it every time, most likely; an', hang me! if they
deserve it."
"We'll keep quiet aboot this discovery until we see how the bold
Macguire tackles on to the mirage," said Mackay. "The meeserable thief
may have jumped our ground in the Warden's office, for a' we know."
Emu Bill grasped the situation at once. "I'm a thick-head," said he. "Of
course that bounder doesn't know; an' he won't know from me nuther. Mums
the word, it is; an' what a howlin' joy it will be to see Macguire
clutch on to the mirage. But I'll bet my boots, Mac, that the Shadow has
busted up his claim-jumping game. I knows the young beggar, I does."
"An' so do I," said Mackay. "But I'll no blame him all the same if he
canna accomplish the impossible."
It was now well after midday, and Emu Bill departed to prepare his
lunch.
"I guess it's about time we had something to eat too," said Jack, who
had been of that opinion for over an hour, and the three sallied out.
Jack was an expert at boiling the billy and making tea, and Mackay had a
wonderful knowledge of the art of bush cookery, so that between them
they always contrived to make a fairly palatable repast, notwithstanding
the unvaried nature of their stores. Bob generally carried the water, or
unearthed from their hiding-place the few enamelled cups and plates
necessary; but, as he said himself, his assistance in matters culinary
would never have been missed. On this occasion he amused himself taking
altitudes of the sun with his cherished sextant, while his companions
attended to the more practical affairs. In one direction--slightly north
of west from the camp--the open desert could be traced without
interruption in the shape of scrub or hillocks, until it merged into the
distant horizon. Bob had discovered this two days before, when he first
endeavoured to make use of Mackay's gift, and he knew that it was just
about one o'clock in the afternoon that the sextant reflectors would
bring the sun down to this level line, and so give a true declination
without the use of an artificial horizon. He ogled away in this
direction now, keeping time by Mackay's old but trusty chronometer which
lay on the sand before him, until Jack's call of "tucker"--which is the
bush synonym for all sorts and conditions of meals--caused him to seek
his wonted place at the open-air table.
"There is a dot or speck on the sky-line which I can't make out," he
said, placing the sextant down carefully at his side. "I don't remember
of it being there yesterday."
"Perhaps it's a tree grown up like Jonah's gourd," laughed Jack. "Have
some more tea, Bob; and you'll see two trees next time you look!"
A little later Mackay lolled back in lazy satisfaction. "I believe," he
said with a chuckle, "that I'm just in the mood to gie ye another verse
o' 'The Muskittie's Lament.' I see Jack's no feenished, so I'll be sure
o' him listening to my masterpiece this time." He lifted up his voice
and sent forth a doleful wail as a preliminary; then, noting the grieved
countenances of his audience, he relented. "I'll get my flute an' play
ye a bit frae the 'Bohemian Girl' instead. I'm no' so sure that I could
tackle that high note in 'The Muskittie's Lament' on a fu' stomach."
He arose and walked to the tent, returning almost immediately with his
instrument. But before he sat down his eye happened to glance over the
unbroken track towards the west, and a frown settled over his features.
"Your obstruction on the sky-line was a man on horseback, Bob," said he;
"I hope he's no' another professional fighter, wha wants me to chastise
him into a humbler spirit."
Since the arrival of Macguire's party a further influx from the outside
world had been daily expected, for news of gold "strikes" travels
quickly, and the sudden exodus of nearly a dozen men from a
comparatively small centre could only be construed in one way.
Therefore, little more than passing interest was paid to the approaching
horseman, who was yet a considerable way off, and Mackay, squatting down
on the sand, blew at his flute right merrily, and promptly forgot all
about him. The boys, too, quickly became enthralled with his melody,
though with them there was always the shivering dread that the flautist
would burst into song, and so break the spell that bound them. Many and
various were the airs he played, but at last he sought solace in the old
Scotch song, "Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Doon," and the feeling which
he managed to infuse into the instrument was simply wonderful.
"Ay, my lads," said Mackay, when he had finished, "there's naething like
the auld Scots sangs for awakenin' kindly memories o' the land we're
aye so glad to get away from. I'm no so sure, mind you, that it isna
good fur us whiles to have a wholesome, tender sentiment gruppin' at the
strings o' oor cauld hearts, an' playing strange music thereon; it
straightens oor backs, an' gies us a grander sympathy----"
He ceased his flow of eloquence, and assumed a listening attitude of
intense eagerness. Faintly over the plains had come the sound of a voice
raised in cheerful song.
"Our visitor seems in a happy mood," said Bob, turning to look.
Mackay grunted, Jack laughed outright, for distinctly through the still
air came the staccato refrain--
"A--bright--wee--muskittie--sat--on--a--tree."
The horseman was coming forward at an easy trot, jerking out the
plaintive strains of Mackay's pet ditty to the novel time of his steed's
clattering hoof-beats. As yet he was too far distant to be plainly
distinguishable, but the song was enough for Mackay.
"It's that confounded Shadow wha's murderin' that bonnie verse," said
he; "but how in the name o' goodness can he be back already? An' he's
got a horse, too. A good hundred and fifty miles in three days. Well,
well----"
At this stage, Nuggety Dick, Emu Bill, Dead Broke Dan, and Never Never
Dave made their hasty appearance, all in a state of extreme excitement.
"I do believe it's the Shadow!" cried Nuggety.
"It's the Shad, right enough," grinned Jack; "don't you hear him?"
Louder swelled the melancholy chorus--
"A bright wee muskittie----"
"Confound that pestilential muskittie!" roared Mackay, in high dudgeon,
amid the laughter of his companions. "My poetic inspiration will be fair
destroyed after hearin' my gem o' beauty abused in such a manner."
But his wrath simmered down speedily as the redoubtable Shadow rode up,
travel-stained and weary, his sole upper vestment still further torn and
bedraggled, so that it clung to him only in shreds and patches.
"I reckon I has had a daisy time," he said lightly, slipping from the
saddle. But the effort of his long journey had told on his numbed limbs,
and he staggered and would have fallen had not Mackay's ready grip
supported him.
"Come and have something to eat, you young rascal," said the aggrieved
composer. "You can tell us your news afterwards."
Jack even now had tea ready for the wayfarer, but the wiry youth refused
to be pampered.
"Well, boss," said he, "I'm only a bit stiff, that's all. Everything's
all right. I got in ahead o' Macguire by an hour, an' fixed up with the
Warden like a streak. I has had a great time----" And he would have
begun a narration of his experiences right then, had not Jack insisted
on his having his tea while it was warm.
It would be difficult to express the satisfaction that was felt over the
Shadow's successful journey, and when the lad had finished his meal, and
told of his numerous adventures on the route and in the township, not
one among them but felt that the young bushman had proved his worth in
no uncertain degree. But it was Mackay's hearty "Well done, my laddie,"
that seemed to give him greatest pleasure, and he cast about him for
some means of showing his gladness.
"I was practisin' your song as I came along," he announced brightly.
"It's a rattlin' fine song, it is. I like it best where the
muskittie----"
He opened his mouth for a preparatory howl, then, noting the stern
glance cast at him by the man he desired to propitiate, he subsided in
dismay.
"Ye dinna need to intensify your original offence, young man," quoth the
aggrieved one, solemnly. "I heard ye slaughterin' that puir wee
muskittie about a mile off. There's an auld and true proverb which says:
'Fools rush in whaur angels fear to pit doon their feet.' Are ye no
aware that that song is set for an angelic tenor voice like mine, an' no
at a' suited for that bark o' yours, which is like the laboured croak o'
a burst bassoon? Never mind," he continued magnanimously, "I'll forgie
ye, an' I'll mak' ye up a touching wee song for yersel' some o' these
days."
The culprit shuddered at the terrible threat, then hastily departed with
Bob and Jack to talk of subjects more pleasing to their common fancy.
All this time Macguire's motley crew had been eyeing the group from the
vantage-point of one of their shafts, and that their feelings were
anything but pleasurable was very plainly evident. They could not
understand the early return of the messenger, but they guessed correctly
enough that he must in some way have baulked their chief's plans, and
their disappointment was keen.
Events in the history of Golden Flat happened quickly now. Early next
morning, Jackson, of the Exchange Hotel, weighed in with several horses
and a buggy. He was accompanied by three well-known prospectors, whom
Mackay and his companions welcomed heartily.
"We need a few decent miners here badly," said he to them. "Just peg out
at the end o' the lead; your chances are pretty good there yet." To
Jackson he whispered a word of advice. "I've an idea," said he,
mysteriously, "that the ground next the Golden Promise will be abandoned
in a day or so. I should like to do ye a good turn, if only because o'
your kindness to the Shadow, so I'm givin' ye the hint."
A suggestion on such an important matter connected with a new field was
as good as a law unto Jackson.
"I'll wait about then, Mac," said he, "and if I can do anything in your
interest afterwards, you can bet your shirt it shall be done."
Another day brought a fresh number of excited gold-seekers to the Flat,
and then they came so regularly that a plainly marked track quickly
connected the camp with Kalgoorlie. Before the week was out, the
population of Golden Flat had increased to a hundred, and still gaunt,
bearded miners came trooping in, and spread themselves promiscuously
throughout the surrounding country in the hope of being able to catch on
to the invisible channel. Some arrived on foot, many having merely the
uppers of their boots left to them, on reaching their destination; and
to see these men marching stubbornly onward over the burning desert,
carrying their entire paraphernalia on their backs, and their eyes
agleam with hungry desire, affected Bob strangely. His extremely
sensitive nature quailed at the thought of such indomitable energy being
rewarded only by bitter disappointment, for he knew well that only a
small proportion of their number could hope to benefit. Buggies,
bicycles, and horses all rolled up; and then came a great heavy waggon,
drawn by a tugging, straining camel team. It stopped opposite the Golden
Promise mine, and one of the twain who accompanied it, a lean and lanky
corrugated-faced individual, stepped forward and interviewed Mackay.
"Any use stickin' up a battery here, mate?"
"Well, I calculate between us we can give you nearly a thousand tons o'
wash, but I couldn't promise what more."
"That's good enough for us," responded the sprightly battery owner, and
he turned to his awaiting companion. "Up she goes, Jim," said he.
They sought a suitable site some little way off, where the chances of
striking water at no great depth promised favourably, and before the day
was done Golden Flat battery was almost ready to begin work.
"They'll get a bit o' a shock when they tackle the miradgy clayey
stuff," Mackay murmured, as he watched the enterprising builders, "but I
don't suppose they'd believe me if I told them about it. Anyhow, we can
realize now on what we've got on the surface. For the rest, we must
trust to Bob's discovery."
It would be difficult to imagine the metamorphosis the quiet Flat
underwent in that short week. Tents scattered everywhere, and the air
was never free from the shattering roar of exploding gelignite, which
indicated how earnestly the new-comers were endeavouring to bottom on
their claims.
During this strenuous period in the life of the Flat, work at the
Golden Promise mine proceeded surely and steadily, and the wash-dirt was
accumulating in great piles at the shaft head. In view of the watchful
eyes of a section of the community given to legitimate claim jumping,
the Shadow had gone back to his own workings, where, by the occasional
assistance of Emu Bill, he succeeded in excavating his ground to
excellent purpose. Bob now took his old place in the subterranean
chamber of the mine, though Mackay was loth indeed to permit it.
"I would rather see ye riggin' up the process on a big scale," he said.
"Still, it's maybe just as well to keep it quiet for a bit, until we see
what happens when the loafing gang next us bottoms on the mirage."
Bob thought so too. His sympathies were all indeed with the hard-working
miners who were battling away so persistently at the remote ends of the
Flat; but to confer a benefit on the men who would so meanly have stolen
his own and companions' holdings! It was scarcely natural that he should
view such an idea with any favour, especially when there were many
honest toilers around who might have a chance to secure a portion of the
ground held by the gang should they decide to abandon it, for their pegs
confined a nine-man allotment, an area which, with the claims of their
own party, practically covered the known auriferous ground of the Flat.
"If the beggars once bottomed on that deceptive compound," said he,
grimly, to himself, "I don't think they would wait much longer. The gold
that vanisheth would be too much for them."
But Macguire's satellites in no way hurried the sinking of their many
shafts, indeed, it soon became apparent that they were rather retarding
operations for a purpose. Jack was one of the first to notice this odd
dilatoriness.
"They've had three misfires in the shaft next to us to-day," said he, as
Mackay and Bob emerged from their labours one evening. Jack had been on
windlass duty, and so from his high post could not fail to observe the
progress made during the day on the mines in his near vicinity.
"I wonder what they are up to?" remarked Bob, thoughtfully. "They ought
to have bottomed some days ago, judging by the level and trend of the
drift in the Golden Promise."
But their scheme was simple enough, as it turned out. Jackson
unconsciously explained it away that same night while he was talking to
Bob by the camp-fire.
"Your neighbours have offered to sell me one of their claims for £1000,"
said he. "They haven't struck the wash yet, but they say, judgin' from
your ore on the surface, theirs must be as good, if not better, when
they hit it."
"Oh, that's their idea, is it?" commented Mackay, who had been
listening. "I'm no' denyin' that it's a good plan in some cases for both
sides, an' I believe they are perfectly honest accordin' to their
calculations, but----"
He shook his head decisively.
"Why, what do you think is the matter?" asked Jackson. "Haven't they a
good chance of striking the channel?"
Mackay laughed. "They'll hit the channel plumb enough," said he; then he
hesitated. "You haven't been down our shaft yet?" he added. "But I'll
take you below in the morning, and show ye something that'll surprise
you. You're no' half a bad sort, Jackson, and you and me have worked
together before, otherwise I wouldna say a single word aboot the
concern, though I admit freely I have no goodwill towards the meeserable
crowd next to us."
The tactics of the objectionable party were, after all, but the tactics
of the non-mining element on all goldfields, who invariably prefer to
sell a chance rather than take even remote risk of disaster. The true
gold-miner is built differently; to him his chance is everything, the
whole glamour of his life lies in its tantalizing uncertainty, and poor
and needy though he may be, he must pursue Nature's elusive treasure to
the end, be it bitter or sweet.
A fortnight had elapsed since the Shadow's return, and Golden Flat
thrived and grew apace. The crashing rattle of the ever-active
stamping-battery made day and night alike hideous. A saw-mill, too, had
appeared on the scene, and its characteristic din was added to the
prevailing discords. Deep wells had been sunk, tapping only strongly
brackish water, but a condensing plant was almost immediately
established to purify this sufficiently for culinary purposes, and the
far-seeing proprietor was reaping a goodly harvest from the sale of the
warm fluid, sparingly dispensed at a shilling a gallon.
From the Golden Promise mine, nearly two hundred tons of the valuable
wash had been raised to the surface and this was being regularly
conveyed to the greedy battery, which consumed it at the rate of twenty
tons a day, and rendered the resultant bullion to the happy owners of
the mine. But the partners of the Golden Promise knew well that their
claim would yield little more of the same material; another fifty tons
at the utmost was Mackay's computation, and then--then the deceptive
under-stratum would have to be considered. Meanwhile, the news of the
Golden Promise's richness spread like wildfire throughout the Flat; the
battery returns on the first day of treatment gave the exceptionally
high result of one hundred and twenty ounces of gold from the twenty
tons of ore crushed.
"That means, wi' gold at £4 an ounce, £480 between the three o' us, my
lads," said Mackay, when he heard the news. "An' we can calculate on
twelve times that amount afore we're on to the mirage stuff."
"How does that compare with our home earnings, Jack?" laughed Bob.
"I think the steam yacht is coming a bit nearer," admitted that youth,
lightly. "But," and his voice grew sorrowful, "isn't it a pity that we
haven't two or three thousand tons----"
"Now, now, young 'un," Mackay interrupted sternly, "you must never give
way to useless reflections. What is, is, and let us be thankful. The
future is before ye, my lad, look to it for your Eldorado."
"After all," reasoned Bob, "we are never really contented. Our ideas of
happiness seem to change so much; we are always seeking what we imagine
to be a definite object, and when we reach it, another and apparently
far greater incentive beckons us on--on to what?"
"There you go," grumbled Jack, "preaching a first-class sermon when we
ought to be slogging away down in the shaft."
Bob started to his feet at once. "I clean forgot, Jack," said he; "your
mention of the steam yacht which we used to talk about in the old days
set me thinking."
They disappeared together, engaged in earnest conversation. A rough
ladder-way had been fixed in the shaft by this time, so that it was not
necessary for the windlass to be called into requisition every time an
ascent or descent was made. Mackay, who had just been returning from his
labours below when he received the information about the battery
results, sat musing on the edge of his bunk for some minutes after the
boys had departed. Bob's words had aroused in him a strange feeling of
restlessness and discontent, which, try as he might, he could not shake
off.
"It's the call of the Never Never gripping me again," he muttered
hoarsely. "I wonder what great secret that terrible country holds as a
recompense for all the lives it has taken. Is it only a shadow that
attracts, after all?"
He arose wearily, and went back to the shaft he had so recently vacated,
and, notwithstanding the protests of his young associates, took up his
pick and worked with fierce energy.
"It's a wee bit o' mental depression that's dropped on me sudden-like,"
explained he; "an' there's nothing like hard graft for bringing the
balance true quickly."
The time passed, and still he smote away with untiring persistency. Then
Jack seized the pick from his hand.
"It's time to go aloft and have supper," said he, "then I want to hear
you play the flute for a bit. I'm just dying to hear some decent music."
Mackay smiled kindly at the boy. "You've hit me on my tender spot," he
made reply. "Do you think you could appreciate 'The Muskittie's Lament'
the nicht?"
"Even 'The Muskittie's Lament,'" Jack added valorously.