Then, the
comical side of his nature coming to the surface as unexpectedly as his
wrath, he was overcome with laughter, and clung to a verandah post for
support, while still speechless, we looked on in consternation, for
laughing was a serious matter with Cheon.
"My word, me plenty cross fellow," he gasped at intervals and finally led
the way to the vegetable garden, where he cut an enormous cabbage and
carried it to the store to weigh it. The scale turned at twelve pounds,
and, sure of our ground now, we compared its mighty heart to the stout
heart of Cheon - a compliment fully appreciated by his Chinese mind; then,
having disparaged the tattered results to his satisfaction, we went to
the house and wrote a letter of thanks to our neighbour, giving him so
vivid a word-picture of the reception of his cabbages that he felt
inspired to play a practical joke on Cheon later on. One thing is very
certain - everyone enjoyed those cabbages including even Cheon and the
goats.
Of course we had cabbage for dinner that day, and the day following, and
the next day again, and were just fearing that cabbage was becoming a
confirmed habit when Dan coming in with reports we all went bush again,
and the spell was broken. "A pity the man from Beyanst wasn't about,"
Dan said when he heard of the daily menu.
It was late in September when Dan came in, and four weeks slipped away
with the concerns of cattle and cattle-buyers and cattle-duffers, and as
we moved hither and thither the water-melons leafed and blossomed and
fruited to Billy's delight, and Cheon's undisguised amazement and the
line party, creeping on, crept first into our borders and then into camp
at the Warlochs, and Happy Dick's visits, dog-fights, and cribbage became
part of the station routine. Now and then a traveller from "inside"
passed out, but as the roads "inside" were rapidly closing in, none came
from the Outside going in, and because of that there were no extra mails,
and towards the end of October we were wondering how we were "going to
get through the days until the Fizzer was due again," when Dan and Jack
came in unexpectedly for a consultation.
"Run clean out of flour," Dan announced, with a wink and a mysterious
look towards the black world, as he dismounted at the head of the
homestead thoroughfare then, after inquiring for the "education of the
missus" he added, with further winks and mystery, that it only needed a
nigger hunt to round off her education properly but it was after supper
before he found a fitting opportunity to explain his winks and mystery.
Then, joining us as we lounged in the open starry space between the
billabong and the house, he chuckled: "Yes, it just needs a nigger hunt
to make her education a credit to us."
Dan never joined us in the evenings without an invitation, although he
was not above putting himself in the way of one.
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