THE KIDNAPPERS.
LOO was a small triangular township, subsisting on agriculture, road
traffic, and the patronage of thirsty shearers and station hands from
runs within a half-day's ride of Sawyer's "Emu Hotel," which was the
incisive point of the triangle.
Thunder's tent was pitched on a small clearing facing the "Emu Hotel."
and Professor Thunder, clad somewhat after the manner of the bushranger
in lurid Australian melodrama, in high boots, cord trousers, a red shirt,
and an immense cabbage-tree hat, stood on a borrowed rum keg at the door
of his show, and earnestly besought Sawyer's customers to visit his
unrivalled show and complete their education.
"Roll up, gents, roll up, roll up, roll up!" cried the Professor, in a
voice keyed to stir the whole town ship. "Bring your families to learn
how man sprang from the ape, and when the ape's got claws like my
gorilla's he shows his good sense in springing. Walk in, walk in, walk
in, all together, one after the other, and witness the most miraculous
performance of Madame Marve, the Egyptian Mystic, converse with the
educated pig, and behold for the first time the amazing Missing Link, the
wonder of the universe, the only true authentic Missing Link now in
captivity, certified correct in every particular by the great Darwin
himself, and approved by all the crowned heads of Europe."
It was Saturday noon, and the township of Loo was rapidly filling with
convivial shearers. The sheds were cutting out at Dim Distance, Devil's
Bend, and the Emu, and the men were full of money, and eager for beer and
diversion.
When a score or so had collected inside, the Professor came down from his
keg, and assumed the office of lecturer, explaining the quaint physical
peculiarities of Matty Cann, and the intellectual eminence of the
educated pig, and then passing to his trump card--the Missing Link.
"Here we have, gentlemen," he exclaimed, "a living exemplification of the
truth of the teachings o the great Darwin. Behold the descent of man in
all its stages, from the smallest ape that capers on the rocky
declivities of the Himalaya Mountains, to the noble Missing Link himself,
having the splendid proportions of the human man, and almost his god like
intellect."
One party of four young shearers from Devil's Bend exhibited great
interest in Mahdi.
"D'yeh mean t' say that animal's worth four thousan' quid?" asked one of
these.
"Four thousand seven hundred pounds, fifteen shillings, is the exact sum
what was offered me by the Anthropological Society of Berlin," said the
Professor, "but I wouldn't part with him for ten thousand."
The shearers marvelled together, and watched Mahdi's movements with deep
attention, and Nickie, acting up to instructions, glowered in the shade.
When a visitor wanted to look into details, the Missing Link displayed
quite human astuteness in retreating into cover in the gloom.
"Suppose he's like us in most iv his ways?" continued Bill. "Does he
smoke, 'r chew, 'r drink?"
"Its considered by the faculty and all the scientific gents that proof of
his being a near relation to the human race is found in the fact that he
has a weakness for intoxicating liquors," said the Professor, sadly.
"We've tried to reform him, but he refuses to become teetotal, showing
how much a man he is."
Bill and Ben and Mike and Fred applauded these sentiments. Then they
returned to the Emu bar and had another drink.
"Four thousan' bloomin' quid fer a blanky monkey!" said Bill, and he
looked dreamily at his companions. "Four thousand quid!" he added. "It's
a sin."
"Now, supposin' that monkey was to get away! There'd be four thousan' o'
th' best tearin' round in th' bush fer anyone t' drop on."
"He couldn't," said Mike, "outer that iron cage."
"He could," said Bill, "if he was helped." Ben, Mike and Fred woke up.
They looked hard at Bill. Bill had a grave, still face. He winked his
left eye suddenly.
"If he did escape there'd be a reward. I reckon," said Ben.
"Precisely," said Bill; "there'd be a reward. Now, if that Missin' Link
could escape--if helped--and if there was a reward offered fer his
capture, what's t' prevent us earnin' it?"
The shearers looked at each other gravely. Then they all winked.
"The spoutin' bloke sez he likes his fill iv tangle," said Bill, "well
he'll get it t-night. I'm goin t' stand a spree fer me poor relation."
That night at about ten o'clock, when Professor Thunder was concentrating
the attention of his patrons on the fascinating boniness of Matty Cann,
Nickie, who was taking his ease on the straw, became aware of a slight
disturbance at his elbow, between the back of his cage and the tent wall.
Blinking his eyes he discovered the shape of a man in the darkness. The
man held a pannikin in one hand, and was offering it through the bars.
"Here, old boy. Here old fellow," murmured the intruder, in a tone one
adopts in propitiating strange dogs.
He shook the pannikin, and the Missing Link detected the familiar flavour
of rum, good red-rum, bush rum. Nickie sniffed again, and backed away,
growling a low, guttural growl. The Missing Link had a great tenderness
for rum, the smell of it excited profound longings, but he wanted time to
deliberate. What was the game? "These fellows have heard Thunder
describing Mahdi's fondness for liquor," thought Nickie. "They want to
make him drunk, and see him play up. It's a lark. Shall I encourage them?
I can do it safely to a moderate extent. It's like flying in the face of
Providence missing drinks that are thrown at you. I'll encourage them to
the extent of one drink, anyhow. Here's luck."
The Missing Link seized that pannikin of rum, the Missing Link took a
good, long pull, and in less than half a minute was curled up on the
straw, dead to the world, a thoroughly hocussed man-monkey.
When Professor Thunder came to shake up his justly celebrated Link, he
found the cage empty, and a bar wrenched from its place in the back wall.
He drew his own conclusions--conclusions most unfavourable to Mahdi--and
used his own language. He closed his show, and went raging about Loo
township in quest of his stray freak.
Nickie the Kid awakened from a death-like sleep in the early hours of a
warm summer Sunday. Dawn steeped the bush in crimson, the smoke of a
dying camp-fire curled high in the air and its top most spiral caught the
red glow of the young sun. About that camp-fire, twisted on their rugs
and blankets on the grass in the quaint attitudes of out-door drunks, lay
four shearers, Bill, Mike, Ben, and Fred. Near them were scattered
various bottles, all empty.
Nickie rubbed his eyes with his hairy paw, and stared at the recumbent
figures. His head seen as capacious as an iron tank, and every inch of it
held a special and independent ache. The Missing Link was trying to
think.
Understanding came in a flash. He had been stolen from the show. These
rascals had given him hocussed rum, and had got him away, probably tied
to one of the horses. His aching limbs hinted at that, and he could see
the horses grazing among the trees.
Nickie reviewed the situation. He was tethered to a tree, his bonds were
stout, and his captors had not made sufficient allowance for the almost
human intelligence of Professor Thunder's star performer. All about were
scattered the utensils of a late supper, and with the aid of a stick the
Link contrived to draw a knife within reach. With this he promptly cut
the rope.
When free Nickie went quietly and deliberately to work to overhaul an
open swag. He took a coat, pair of trousers, a pair of boots, and a hat,
and with these under his arm retired to the bush to make his toilet.
An hour later three shearers, Bill, Fred, and Ben, riding at a gallop
along the high road to Loo, came upon a man with a bundle walking
cheerfully in the same direction. The horsemen pulled up.
"Hi, mate, have you seen anythin' of a strange sort of animal on this
road?" cried Bill.
"Have I?" answered the man. "My word, I have! A great, big, red, hairy
bunyip 'r somethin' charged out o' th' bush 'bout a mile back, bowled me
over an' went howlin' down th' road in a cloud o' dust."
"Which way?" gasped Bill.
The pedestrian pointed in the direction of Loo. "That's th' way he went,"
he said. "Cripes, I'd a' thought I seen a fantod on'y I bin teetotal fer
a year."
The shearers whipped up, and rode on at a gallop, and the man grinned
after them with exquisite joy. "Well, life's worth living after all."
said Nickie the Kid.
Before Sunday night it was known at Loo that the Missing Link, which had
been stolen or had escaped, was once more safely bestowed in Professor
Thunder's Museum, and when the show opened on Monday there was something
like a run on it. With the curious crowd came Bill, Ben, and Fred, Mike
having been left to keep camp. At the sight of the shearers before his
cage, the Missing Link simulated a paroxysm of ungovernable rage. He bit,
glared, roared, and reaching his mighty claws towards Bill, made
murderous sweeps in the air, as if desirous of disembowelling that
hapless young man.
"That's curious." said Professor Thunder, regarding the shearer sternly.
"My Link don't often go on like that, and when he does he has good
reason. See here, young gentlemen, what did you have to do with the
purloining of my man-monkey Saturday night?"
Bill protested fiercely. "Never put a hand on yer blanky monkey. Wouldn't
touch him with er forty-foot pole."
"Well, he as good as says you did."
Bill grinned. "You can't send a bloke up on th' say so of a Missin'
Link," he said. "You can't put a monkey in the witness box t' swear a
man's character away."
"I don't know," said the Professor. "That's a delicate point of law, but
we may as well have a word with the constable about it."
The shearers didn't stay to take part in the consultation with the
constable--Professor Thunder had not expected them to. "They lit out in a
great hurry," he explained to the Missing Link at lunch time. "With a bit
of engineering I might have shaken a few pounds out of them in the way of
compensation. I was too hasty. Now, we'll have to leave their punishment
in the hands of heaven, and there is no money in that."
"Heaven has punished them already, Professor," said the Missing Link,
with a wide, simian smile.
"How that?"
Nickie's smile deepened. "There was eleven pounds in the pocket of the
trousers I borrowed to come home in," he said.