THERE was great wonder in Waddy next morning, and much argument.
Neighbours discussed the sensation with avidity. Mrs. Sloan, uncombed and
in early morning deshabille, with an apron thrown over her head, carried
the news to Mrs. Justin's back fence, and Mrs. Justin ran with it to the
back fence of Mrs. McKnight, and Mrs. McKnight spread the tidings as far
as the house of Steven; so the wonder grew, and families were called up
at an unusually early hour, and sage opinions were thrown from side
windows and handed over garden gates. An invasion of goats had happened
at Waddy, a downpour of goats, an eruption of goats: goats were all over
the place, and nobody knew whence they came or when they arrived. Waddy's
own goats were many and various, but the invasion had quadrupled them,
and goats were everywhere--bold, hungry, predatory goats--browsing,
sleeping, battling, thieving, and filling the air with incessant
pleadings. They invaded gardens and broke their way into kitchens and
larders; they assaulted children and in some cases offered fight to the
mothers who went to eject them; and here and there the billies of Waddy
fought with the bearded usurpers long unsatisfactory contests, rearing
and butting for hours, and doing each other no morsel of injury that
anybody could discover. A few of the women were out with buckets, making
the most of the opportunity, milking all the nannies who would submit;
and Devoy, with characteristic impetuosity, was already on the warpath,
seeking vengeance on the person or persons whose act had led to the
pillage of his vegetable beds.
During all this the innocence of the boys of Waddy, particularly those
boys who had composed Moonlighter's gang, was quite convincing. They had
kept their secret well, and for some time no act of vandalism was
suspected. In school during the morning they were most attentive, and
particularly assiduous in the pursuit of knowledge; and when the echoes
of a disturbance in the township penetrated the school walls, Richard
Haddon and his friends may have exchanged significant winks, but nothing
in their general demeanour would have betrayed them to the ordinary
intelligence. However, Joel Ham's intelligence was not of the ordinary
kind, and after looking up two or three times and catching the master's
little leaden eye fixed upon him with a glance of amused speculation,
Dick began to feel decidedly uncomfortable.
The first hint of the truth was brought to Waddy by an infuriated female
from Cow Flat. She drove up in an old-fashioned waggon drawn by a lively
and energetic but very ancient and haggard bay horse, with flattened
hoofs and a mere stump of a tail. She was tall and stout, with great
muscular arms bare to the shoulder, and her face was pink with righteous
indignation. This woman drove slowly up the one road of Waddy, and
standing erect in her vehicle roundly abused the township from end to
end. Crying her cause in a big strident voice, she insulted the
inhabitants individually and in the mass, and wherever several people
were assembled she pulled up and poured out upon them the vials of her
wrath in a fine flow of vituperation; and after every few sentences she
interpolated an almost pathetic plea to somebody, she did not care whom,
to step forward and resent her criticism that she might have an
opportunity of hammering decency and religion into the benighted
inhabitants of an unregenerate place.
'Who stole the goats?' she screamed, and, receiving no answer, screamed
the question from house to house.
'Waddy's a township of thieves an' hussies!' she cried, 'thieves an'
hussies! Gimme me goats or I'll have the law on you all--you low, mean
stealers an' robbers, ye! Who stole the goats? Who came by night an'
robbed a decent widdy woman of her beautiful goats? Who? Who? Who? Say
you didn't, someone! Gi' me the lie, you lot o' gaol-birds an'
assassinators!'
All Waddy turned out to hear, and many followed the woman up the road.
The school children heard the noisy procession go by with amazement and
regret, and the visitor grew shriller and fiercer as her search
progressed. At length she discovered what she declared to be one of her
goats in the possession of Mrs. Hogan, and she left her waggon and
charged the latter, who fled in terror, bolting all her doors and
throwing up a barricade in the passage. But the stranger was not to be
foiled: she sat down on the doorstep and proclaimed the house under
siege, announcing her intention to remain until she had wreaked her
vengeance on Mrs. Hogan, and offering meanwhile to fight any four women
of Waddy for mere diversion.
It was not till the tired miners off the night shift had secured all the
goats she pointed out as hers, tied their legs and packed them on her
waggon, that the woman could be induced to leave; and as she drove away
she heaped further insult on the township, and from the distant toll-bar
signalled a final gesture of contempt and loathing.
This woman took back to Cow Flat her own explanation of the mystery of
the lost goats, and in due time deputations from the rival township began
to reach Waddy, so that the Great Goat Riot developed rapidly. It was
long since friendly feeling had existed between Waddy and Cow Flat. There
was a standing quarrel about sludge and the pollution of the waters of
the creek; there were political differences, too, and a fierce sporting
rivalry. By the majority of the people of Cow Flat the purloining of
their goats was accepted as further evidence of the moral depravity and
low origin of the people of Waddy, and the feeling between the townships
was suddenly strained to a dangerous tension.
The first few skirmishing parties from Cow Flat were composed of women
and boys, and an undisciplined and rash pursuit of goats followed each
visit. The nannies and billies, under stress of the new excitement, ran
suddenly wild and developed a fleetness of foot, an expertness in
climbing, and powers of endurance hitherto all unsuspected by their
owners; so very few animals were recovered by the visitors.
The hunt was continued throughout the next day. Goats were rushing wildly
about the place from morning till midnight pursued by their wrathful
owners, to the detriment of the peace of Waddy and the undoing of the
tractable local milkers; and at last a great resentment took possession
of the matrons of the township--there were counter-attacks among the
houses, rescue parties beset the women carrying off prizes, and a few
skirmishes happened on the flat. Now the men were induced to take a hand,
and there was talk of battle and pillage and sudden death.
Devoy, pugnacious and vengeful, provoked the first serious struggle.
Discovering a man of Cow Flat who claimed a small family of aggressive
brown goats which he had marked out as the vandals that had wrought ruin
amongst his well-kept beds, Devoy bearded the stranger and spoke of
damages and broken heads, and his small son, Danny, a young Australian
with a piquant brogue and a born love of ructions, moved round and
incited him to bloodshed.
'Go fer him, daddy. Sure, ye can lick him wid one hand, dear,' pleaded
Danny.
'Yer dir-rty goats have ate me gar-rden, sor. D'ye moind me now? It's
ruined me gar-rden is on me,' said Devoy aggressively.
'Hit him, daddy,' screamed Danny.
Devoy accepted the advice and struck the first blow. The man from Cow
Flat was very willing, and they fought a long, destructive battle; and
through it all Danny danced about the ring, bristling with excitement and
crying fierce and persistent encouragement to his sire.
'Let him have it, daddy!' 'Now ye have him!' 'Good on you, daddy!' 'Sure,
you'll do him!' 'One round more, daddy, an' ye have him beat!' These
phrases, and shrill inarticulate cries of applause and astonishment and
joy, Danny reiterated breathlessly until his father was pronounced the
victor; then he took the battered hero fondly by the hand and led him
away to be bathed and plastered and bandaged by a devoted wife and
mother.
The downfall of Devoy's opponent brought other champions from Cow Flat;
there were open fights in Wilson's paddocks by day and assaults and
sallies by night, and the bitterness deepened into hatred. Waddy now
resisted every attempt to carry off the stolen goats, and parties coming
from Cow Flat by night were content with any animals they could lay their
hands on; so for nearly a week the township was beset with alarums and
excursions, and Jo Rogers, as its admitted champion, had more engagements
on his hands than he could reasonably be expected to fulfil in a month.
Dickie and his accomplices were amazed at the developments, and watched
the trouble grow with the greatest concern. The contests on the open
ground beyond the quarries were frequent and free, and then there came a
lull; but from Cow Flat came rumours of a grand coup meditated by the
leaders on that side. Preparations were being made for an attack by a
large body, and the forcible abduction of all the goats, irrespective of
individual rights. The excitement had now reached fever heat, and there
were few men in Waddy who were not ready, even anxious, to strike a blow
for the preservation of the flocks and herds and the credit of the
township.
On the side of approach from Cow Flat Waddy was protected for the greater
part of the distance by the string of quarries; under the command of Big
Peterson, who as an ex-soldier had some military reputation, logs were
dragged from the bush, and the space between the end of the quarries and
the fence of Summers' south paddock was smartly barricaded. The defenders
were armed with light sticks, and it was understood that these were to be
used only if the enemy refused to abide by Nature's weapons.
All the mines in the vicinity of Waddy worked short-handed on the day of
the Great Goat Riot; the men, under the command of Captain Peterson, were
sitting in bands, hidden from view in the quarries, smoking, discussing
the situation, and patiently awaiting the attack. They did not wait in
vain. At about eleven o'clock a scout came in with the intelligence that
a large body was advancing in irregular order through Wilson's paddock,
and a quarter of an hour later the men of Cow Flat swarmed out of the
bush and over the fence and charged Waddy at a trot.
'Toe the scratch, men!' yelled Peterson; and the defenders of Waddy
climbed out of the holes and presently turned a solid front to the enemy.
The Cow Flat commander, who had expected to take the place by surprise,
wavered at the sight of organised opposition and called a halt at the
other edge of the quarries; and invaders and besieged faced each other
across the broken ground while the Cow Flat leaders held a council of
war. On the level behind the entrenched army the women of Waddy and their
families were picknicking gaily on the grass, for it was accepted as a
great gala day in the township, and flags of all shapes and colours,
devised from all kinds of discarded garments, fluttered from tree-tops,
chimneys, posts, clothes-props, and any other eminence to which a
streamer could be fastened.
Perceiving their opponents reluctant to charge, Peterson's command
presently developed a fine flow of sarcasm.
'Won't ye stip over, ye mud-gropers?' cried Devoy. 'It's a nice little
riciption we've arranged for yez.
'Who stole the goats?' retorted the enemy.
'Sure, is it the bits of goats, then? Ye might come an' take them if ye
won't be stayin' all day there dishcussin' polemics.' Devoy was
understood to be a man of learning and unequalled in argument.
'Kidnappers an' goat-stealers!' yelled the foe.
Devoy posed on a rock in an oratorical attitude.
'Ye came suspectin' t' have a foine aisy time the mornin',' he said. 'Yez
contimplated playin' the divil wid a big shtick among the weemin an' the
childther. Tom Moran, ye thunderin' great ilephant av a man, d'ye think
ye cud fight a sick hen on a fince?'
Moran replied with uproarious profanity and frantic pantomime, and the
abuse became general and vociferous. Devoy mounted a larger rock and
commenced a scathing harangue; but a sod thrown by an invader took him in
the mouth and toppled him over backwards, so that he arose gasping and
spitting and clawing dirt out of his beard, and made a rush for his
enemy, mad for battle; friends grappled with him and held him back, and
he could only shriek defiance and rash challenges as the two parties
moved along the quarries towards the log barricade. Here the men of Cow
Flat halted again and their leaders conferred, but the rank-and-file were
rapidly losing temper and restraint under the black insults heaped upon
them by the besieged. They scattered along the row of logs into a long
thin line and the men of Waddy followed, till the two parties were almost
man to man, facing each other, exchanging jibes and gestures of contempt.
'Moran, ye scut! don't be skirmishin' an' in thriguin' t' get forninat a
shmall man. My meat ye are, an' come on, ye--ye creepin' infor-r-mer, ye!
It was the last insult. Moran led the charge, roaring like a goaded
bullock, the two parties clashed over the logs, and in an instant
comparative silence fell upon the men. The yelling, the derisive voices,
and scoffing laughter ceased, and nothing was heard but the sharp rattle
of the strokes. The fight was fierce, earnest, and bloody; all thoughts
of the absurdity of the cause of contention had long since been
forgotten, and the battle was as remorseless as if it were waged for an
empire.
The women had never expected anything serious to happen, and now they
were dreadfully afraid. A valiant few took arms and joined in the fray by
the sides of their husbands; but the rest, finding after a few minutes
that the fight raged furiously, gave way to bitter tears, and wailed
protests from a safe distance, while the children followed their example
with all the vigour of young lungs.
In time Peterson and Devoy and Rogers found voice and yelled
encouragement to their men, and sticks and fists worked grievous
mischief. The Cow Flat men were at an enormous disadvantage in having to
scale the logs to make headway; whenever a hero did succeed in gaining
the top, Big Peterson, who moved swiftly and tirelessly up and down the
line, was there to cope with him, and he was hurled down, bruised and
broken. The besiegers struggled valiantly, but it dawned on them in the
course of ten minutes that they were waging a vain and foolish fight. A
rally and a rescue of Moran, who was on the point of being captured by
the enemy, gave them an excuse to draw off, dragging their defeated
leader beyond harm's reach. A few moments later, in the midst of excited
cheering and jeering, a number of the men became aware of a small,
bare-headed, red-haired, white-faced boy standing on the logs between the
foes, where he had stood whilst the fight was still waging, whirling his
hat, and crying something at the top of his voice:
'The troopers! The troopers! The troopers!
It was Dick Haddon, very frightened apparently, and ablaze with
excitement.
'Don't fight, don't fight!' he cried. ''Twas me took the goats, an' the
troopers're comin'! Look, the troopers!
Sure enough, far off across the level country leading down to Yarraman, a
small body of mounted police could be seen riding at a canter towards
Waddy, their swords and cap-peaks glittering in the sun. The men stared
in the direction pointed by Dick in silence, wondering what this
development might mean. Devoy was the first to move. Gripping Dick, he
lifted him from the logs.
'Run, run, ye bla'gard!' he said. 'Fetch yer school football.'
Then as Dick hastened away Devoy took a commanding position on the
barricade.
'Hear me, all of yez,' he cried. 'Down wid yer sticks, every divil of
yez! You Cow Flat min, too, down wid 'em! Look it here--the troopers is
comin'. Shine have infor-rmed on us in Yarraman. Moind, now, this is jist
a bit of divarsion we've been havin'.'
The Waddy men had dropped their weapons, so also had most of their foes,
and all gathered closer about Devoy.
'T'row away thim shticks,' he yelled. 'D'ye want tin years fer riot, an'
murther, an' dish turbin' the peace? Look peaceable, an' frindly, an'
lovin', if it's in yez so to do. Moran, ye sulky haythen, wud ye be
hangin' the lot av us? Shmile 'r I'll black the other oye of ye! Shmile,
ye hi-potomus!
At this instant the line of troopers rode in between the parties, with a
clattering of scabbard and chain. The sergeant drew his foaming bay up
sharp and confronted Devoy.
'What is the meaning of this, my man?' he demanded.
'Meanin' which, sor?' Devoy cocked a black and swollen eye at the
officer, and smiled innocently over a lacerated chin.
'Meaning this.' The trooper waved a white glove over the congregation.
'Sure, it's a bit of a game only--a bit of a friendly game o' football,
as ye may see wid the own eyes of ye.'
Dick's football had just bounced in between the opposing bodies. The
officer ran an eye over the crowd, noting the bloodstains.
'You play football in a funny way at Waddy,' he said.
'We play it wid enthusiasm.'
'Enthusiasm! I should say you played it with shillelahs. Do you always
get cracked skulls and black eyes when you play football?'
'It's our pleasant way, sor.'
'Is it? Well, how the devil do you play football? What is the meaning of
this pile of logs?'
'Meaning the fines, sergeant? It's this way: we of Waddy stands on this
side, an' thim of Cow Flat forninst us on the other side, an' we kicks it
over t' thim, an' they kicks it back to ourselves, an', sure, the side
what kicks it over the most frequent wins. Would you like t' see,
sergeant?'
The miners grinned, the troopers giggled, and the sergeant began to feel
huffy.
''Tention!' he cried. 'Who won this precious game?'
Devoy pinched hi chin tenderly and grimaced. It was hard to abandon the
glory of a well-won battle, but there was no option.
'It was a dthraw,' he said manfully.
'And what were you playing for?'
'Playin' for? Oh, fer natural love an' affection, nothin' more, barrin' a
few goats.'
'Goats, eh? Now look here, my fine fellow, we were told there was to be
riot and fighting here over those goats. I don't believe a word of your
cock-and-bull story about football, and for two pins I'd clap a few of
you where you wouldn't play again for some time to come. Now you'd all
better settle this goat business while my men are here, and take my
advice and drop football if you want to keep on the comfort able and airy
side of a gaol. Now then, you fellows from the Flat, round up your goats
and look slippy in getting out of this.'
Devoy was the picture of outraged innocence.
'Tut, tut, tut!' he said mournfully, 'an' see how they take off the
characther of dacent, paceable, lovin' min. 'Twas a tinder an' frindly
game we was playin', sergeant, but if ye will break it up, sure I'm a
law-abidin' man. We did intund t' axe the min av Cow Flat t' have the
bite an' sup wid us at the banquit this night, but we rispict the law,
an' we say nothin' agin it. But, sor, if ever yer men would be likun' a
game of football, we--'
'Get down, you ruffian!' said the sergeant, grinning, and rode his horse
at Devoy.
So the Great Goat Riot was settled, and under the eye of the sergeant and
his troopers the goats of Cow Flat were drafted from those of Waddy. It
was a difficult task, and was not accomplished without trouble and
argument and minor hostilities: but the judgment of the sergeant, who
seemed to be aware of the whole merits of the case, was final, so that in
due time the men of Cow Flat departed driving their goats before them,
and comparative peace fell upon Waddy once more.