The Dingo Station never looked more beautiful than it did one glorious
January morning as the boys were making their preparations for an
expedition into the scrub. The place had been chosen for its
attractiveness in the first instance, and two years hard work had made
it a home over which Uncle Munday used to smile as he gazed on his
handiwork in the shape of flowering creepers--Bougainvillea and
Rinkasporum--running up the front, and hiding the rough wood, or over
the fences; the garden now beginning to be wonderfully attractive, and
adding to the general home-like aspect of the place; while the captain
rubbed his hands as he gazed at his rapidly-growing prosperity, and
asked wife and daughters whether they had not done well in coming out to
so glorious a land.
They all readily agreed, for they had grown used to their active, busy
life, and were quite content, the enjoyment of vigorous health in a fine
climate compensating for the many little pleasures of civilised life
which they had missed at first. The timidity from which they had
suffered had long since passed away; and though in quiet conversations,
during the six early months of their sojourn, mother and daughter and
niece had often talked of how much pleasanter it would have been if the
captain had made up his mind to sell his property and go close up to
some settlement, such thoughts were rare now; and, as Aunt Georgie used
to say:
"Of course, my dears, I did at one time think it very mad to come right
out here, but I said to myself, Edward is acting for the best, and it is
our duty to help him, and I'm very glad we came; for at home I used
often to say to myself, `I'm getting quite an old woman now, and at the
most I can't live above another ten years.' While now I don't feel a
bit old, and I shall be very much disappointed if I don't live another
twenty or five-and-twenty years. For you see, my dears, there is so
much to do."
And now, on this particular morning, the boys were busy loading up a
sturdy, useful horse with provisions for an excursion into the scrub.
Sam German had left his gardening to help to get their horses ready; and
full of importance, in a pair of clean white drawers, Shanter was
marching up and down looking at the preparations being made, in a way
that suggested his being lord of the whole place.
All ready at last, and mounted. Mrs Bedford, Aunt Georgie, and the
girls had come out to see them off, and the captain and Uncle Jack were
standing by the fence to which the packhorse was hitched.
"Got everything, boys?" said the captain.
"Yes, father; I think so."
"Flint and steel and tinder?"
"Oh yes."
"Stop!" cried the captain. "I'm sure you've forgotten something."
"No, father," said Rifle. "I went over the things too, and so did Tim.
Powder, shot, bullets, knives, damper iron, hatchets, tent-cloth."
"I know," cried Aunt Georgie. "I thought they would. No extra
blankets."
"Yes, we have, aunt," cried Tim, laughing.
"Then you have no sticking-plaster."
"That we have, aunt, and bits of linen rag, and needles and thread. You
gave them to me," said Rifle. "I think we have everything we ought to
carry."
"No," said the captain; "there is something else."
"They've forgotten the tea," cried Hetty, merrily.
"No. Got more than we want," cried Rifle.
"Sugar, then," said Ida. "No; I mean salt."
"Wrong again, girls," cried Norman. "We've got plenty of everything,
and only want to start off--How long can you do without us, father?"
"Oh," said the captain, good-humouredly, "you are an idle lot. I don't
want you. Say six months."
"Edward, my dear!" exclaimed Mrs Bedford, in alarm.
"Well then, say a fortnight. Fourteen days, boys, and if you are not
back then, we shall be uneasy, and come in search of you."
"Come now, father," cried Rifle, laughing. "I say, I do wish you
would."
"Nothing I should enjoy better, my boy," said the captain. "This place
makes me feel full of desire adventure."
"Then come," cried Norman. "It would be grand. You come too, Uncle
Jack;" but that gentleman shook his head as did his brother.
"And pray who is to protect your mother and sisters and aunt, eh?" said
the captain. "No; go and have your jaunt, and as soon as you cross the
range mark down any good site for stations."
"Oh, Edward dear," cried Mrs Bedford, "you will not go farther into the
wilderness?"
"No," he said, smiling; "but it would be pleasant to be able to tell
some other adventurer where to go."
"I know what they've forgotten," said Ida, mischievously, and on
purpose--"soap."
"Wrong again, Miss Clever," cried Norman. "We've got everything but
sailing orders. Good-bye all."
"You will take care, my dears," cried Mrs Bedford, who looked pale and
anxious.
"Every care possible, mother dear," cried the lad, affectionately; "and
if Tim and Rifle don't behave themselves, I'll give 'em ramrod and kicks
till they do.--Now, father, Tam o' Shanter's looking back again. Shall
we start?"
"You've forgotten something important."
"No, father, we haven't, indeed."
"You talked about sailing orders, and you are going to start off into
the wilds where there isn't a track. Pray, where is your compass?"
"There he is, father," cried Rifle, merrily; "yonder in white drawers."
"A very valuable one, but you can't go without one that you can put in
your pocket. What did we say last night about being lost in the bush?"
"Forgot!" cried Norman, after searching his pockets. "Have you got it,
Tim?"
Tim put his hand in his pocket, and shook his head.
"Have you, Rifle?"
"No."
"Of course he has not," said the captain; "and it is the most important
thing of your outfit.
"Here it is," he continued, producing a little mariner's compass; "and
now be careful. You ought to have had three. Good-bye, boys. Back
within the fortnight, mind."
Promises, more farewells, cheers, and twenty minutes later the boys
turned their horses' heads on the top of Wallaby Range, as they had
named the hills behind the house, at the last point where they could get
a view of home, pausing to wave their three hats; and then, as they rode
off for the wilds, Shanter, who was driving the packhorse, uttered a
wild yell, as he leaped from the ground, and set all the horses capering
and plunging.
"What did you do that for?" said Norman, as soon as he could speak for
laughing, the effects on all three having been comical in the extreme.
"Corbon budgery. All good. Get away and no work."
"Work?" cried Rifle. "Why, you never did any work in your life."
"Baal work. Mine go mumkull boomer plenty hunt, find sugar-bag. Yah!"
He uttered another wild shout, which resulted in his having to trot off
after the packhorse, which took to its heels, rattling the camping
equipage terribly, while the boys restrained their rather wild but
well-bred steeds.
"Old Tam's so excited that he don't know what to do," cried Tim.
"Yes. Isn't he just like a big boy getting his first holidays."
"Wonder how old he is," said Rifle.
"I don't know. Anyway between twenty and a hundred. He'll always be
just like a child as long as he lives," said Norman. "He always puts me
in mind of what Tim was six or seven years ago when he first came to
us."
"Well, I wasn't black anyhow," said Tim.
"No, but you had just such a temper; got in a passion, turned sulky,
went and hid yourself, and forgot all about it in half an hour."
"I might be worse," said Tim, drily. "Heads!" he shouted by way of
warning as he led the way under a group of umbrageous trees, beyond
which they could see Shanter still trotting after the packhorse, which
did not appear disposed to stop.
"Well, I'm as glad we've got off as Shanter is," said Rifle as they
ambled along over the rich grass. "I thought we never were going to
have a real expedition."
"Why, we've had lots," said Tim.
"Oh, they were nothing. I mean a regular real one all by ourselves.
How far do you mean to go to-night?"
"As far as we can before sunset," said Norman; "only we must be guided
by circumstances."
"Which means wood, water, and shelter," said Tim, sententiously. "I
say, suppose after all we were to meet a tribe of black fellows. What
should we do?"
"Let 'em alone," said Rifle, "and then they'd leave us alone."
"Yes; but suppose they showed fight and began to throw spears at us."
"Gallop away," suggested Tim.
"Better make them gallop away," said Norman. "Keep just out of reach of
their spears and pepper them with small shot."
After a time they overtook the black, and had to dismount to rearrange
the baggage on the packhorse, which was sadly disarranged; but this did
not seem to trouble Shanter, who stood by solemnly, leaning upon his
spear, and making an occasional remark about, "Dat fellow corbon
budgery," or, "Dis fellow baal budgery,"--the "fellows" being tin pots
or a sheet of iron for cooking damper.
"Fellow indeed!" cried Rifle, indignantly; "you're a pretty fellow."
"Yohi," replied the black, smiling. "Shanter pretty fellow. Corbon
budgery."
But if the black would not work during their excursion after the fashion
of ordinary folk, he would slave in the tasks that pleased him; and
during the next few days their table--by which be it understood the
green grass or some flat rock--was amply provided with delicacies in the
shape of 'possum and grub, besides various little bulbs and roots, or
wild fruits, whose habitat Shanter knew as if by instinct. His
boomerang brought down little kangaroo-like animals--wallabies such as
were plentiful on the range--and his nulla-nulla was the death of three
carpet-snakes, which were roasted in a special fire made by the black,
for he was not allowed to bring them where the bread was baked and the
tea made.
So day after day they journeyed on over the far-spreading park-like
land, now coming upon a creek well supplied with water, now toiling over
some rocky elevation where the stones were sun-baked and the vegetation
parched, while at night they spread the piece of canvas they carried for
a tent, hobbled the horses, and lay down to sleep or watch the stars
with the constellations all upside down.
They had so far no adventures worth calling so, but it was a glorious
time. There was the delicious sense of utter freedom from restraint.
The country was before them--theirs as much as any one's--with the
bright sunshine of the day, and gorgeous colours of night and morning.
When they camped they could stay as long as they liked; when they
journeyed they could halt in the hot part of the day in the shade of
some large tree, and go on again in the cool delightful evening; and
there was a something about it all that is indescribable, beyond saying
that it was coloured by the brightly vivid sight of boyhood, when
everything is at its best.
The stores lasted out well in spite of the frightful inroads made by the
hungry party: for Shanter contributed liberally to the larder, and every
day Norman said it was a shame, and the others agreed as they thought of
cages, or perches and chains; but all the same they plucked and roasted
the lovely great cockatoos they shot, and declared them to be delicious.
Shanter knocked down a brush pheasant or two, whose fate was the fire;
and one day he came with something in his left hand just as breakfast
was ended, and with a very serious aspect told them to look on, while he
very cleverly held a tiny bee, smeared its back with a soft gum which
exuded from the tree under whose shade they sat, and then touched the
gum with a bit of fluffy white cottony down.
"Dat fellow going show sugar-bag plenty mine corbon budgery."
"Get out with your corbon budgery," cried Norman. "What's he going to
do?"
They soon knew, for, going out again into the open, Shanter let the bee
fly and darted off after it, keeping the patch of white in view, till it
disappeared among some trees.
"Dat bee fellow gunyah," cried Shanter, as the boys ran up, and they
followed the direction of the black's pointing finger, to see high up in
a huge branch a number of bees flying in and out, and in a very short
time Shanter had seized the little hatchet Rifle carried in his belt,
and began to cut big notches in the bark of the tree, making steps for
his toes, and by their means mounting higher and higher, till he was on
a level with the hole where the bees came in and out.
"Mind they don't sting you, Shanter," cried Tim.
"What six-ting?" cried Shanter.
"Prick and poison you."
"Bee fellow ticklum," he cried laughing, as he began chopping away at
the bark about the hollow which held the nest, and brought out so great
a cloud of insects that he descended rapidly.
"Shanter let 'em know," he cried; and running back to the camp he left
the boys watching the bees, till he returned with a cooliman--a bark
bowl formed by peeling the excrescence of a tree--and some sticks well
lighted at the end.
By means of these the black soon had a fire of dead grass tufts smoking
tremendously, arranging it so that the clouds curled up and played round
the bees' nest.
"Bee fellow baal like smoke," he cried. "Make bee go bong."
Then seizing the hatchet and cooliman he rapidly ascended the tree, and
began to cut out great pieces of dripping honeycomb, while the boys
laughed upon seeing that the hobbled horses, objecting to be left alone
in the great wild, had trotted close up and looked as if they had come
on purpose to see the honey taken.
It was not a particularly clean process, but the result was plentiful,
and after piling his bark bowl high, Shanter came down laughing.
"Plenty mine tickee, tickee," he said; but it did not seem to occur to
him that it would be advantageous to have a wash. He was quite content
to follow back to the camp-fire and then sit down to eat honey and comb
till Tim stared.
"I say, Shanter," he cried, "we didn't bring any physic."
"Physic? What physic? Budgery?"
"Oh, very budgery indeed," said Rifle, laughing. "You shall have some
when we get back."
Shanter nodded, finished his honey, and went to sleep till he was roused
up, and the party started off once more.