But Jack no longer objected to questions. He turned towards us with
soft, shining eyes. "There's not many like him," he said, pulling at one
of the flexible ears. "You could learn him anything." It seemed so, for
after trying to solve the problem of the roller and bit with his tongue
when it was put into his mouth, he accepted the mystery with quiet,
intelligent trust; and as soon as he was freed from it, almost courted
further fondling. He would let no one but Jack near him, though. When
we entered the yard the ears went back and the whites of the eyes showed.
"No one but me for a while," Jack said, with a strange ring of ownership
in his voice, telling that it is a good thing to have a horse that is
yours, and yours only.
Within a week "Brownie" was mounted, and ridden down to the House for
final inspection, before "going bush" to learn the art of rounding up
cattle. "He'll let you touch him now," Jack said; and after a snuffing
inquiry at my hands the beautiful creature submitted to their caresses.
Dan looked at him with approving eyes. "To think she had the luck to
choose him too, out of all that crowd," he said.
"We always call it instinct, I think," the Maluka said teasingly,
twitting me on one of my pet theories, and the Dandy politely suggested
"It might be knowledge.'"
Then the Quiet Stockman gave his opinion, making it very clear that he no
longer felt that women had nothing in common with men. "It never is
anything but instinct," he said, with quiet decision in his voice. "No
one ever learns horses."
While the Quiet Stockman had been busy rearranging his ideas of
womankind, a good many things had been going wrong at the homestead. Sam
began by breaking both china cups, and letting the backbone slip out of
everything in his charge.
Fowls laid-out and eggs became luxuries. Cream refused to rise on the
milk. It seemed impossible to keep meat sweet. Jimmy lost interest in the
gathering of firewood and the carrying of water; and as a result, the
waterbutts first shrank, then leaked, and finally lay down, a medley of
planks and iron hoops. A swarm of grasshoppers passed through the
homestead, and to use Sam's explicit English: "Vegetable bin finissem all
about"; and by the time fresh seeds were springing the Wet returned with
renewed vigour, and flooded out the garden. Then stores began to fail,
including soap and kerosene, and writing-paper and ink threatened to
"peter out." After that the lubras, in a private quarrel during the
washing of clothes, tore one of the "couple of changes" of blouses sadly;
and the mistress of a cattle-station was obliged to entertain guests at
times in a pink cambric blouse patched with a washed calico flour-bag; no
provision having been made for patching. Then just as we were wondering
what else could happen, one night, without the slightest warning, the
very birds migrated from the lagoon, carrying away with them the promise
of future pillows, to say nothing of a mattress, and the Maluka was
obliged to go far afield in search of non-migrating birds.
Dan wagged his head and talked wise philosophy, with these disasters for
the thread of his discourse; but even he was obliged to own that there
was a limit to education when Sam announced that "Tea bin finissem all
about." He had found that the last eighty-pound tea-chest contained
tinware when he opened it to replenish his teacaddy. Tea had been
ordered, and the chest was labelled tea clearly enough, to show that the
fault lay in Darwin; but that was poor consolation to us, the sufferers.
The necessities of the bush are few; but they are necessities; and Billy
Muck was sent in to the Katherine post-haste, to beg, borrow, or buy tea
from Mine Host. At the least a horseman would take six days for the
trip, irrespective of time lost in packing up; but knowing Billy's
untiring, swinging stride, we hoped to see him within four days.
Billy left at midday, and we drank our last cup of tea at supper; the
next day learned what slaves we can be to our bodies. Because we lacked
tea, the interest went out of everything. Listless and unsatisfied, we
sat about and developed headaches, not thirsty - for there was water in
plenty but craving for the uplifting influence of tea. Never drunkards
craved more intensely for strong drink! Sam made coffee; but coffee only
increased the headaches and cravings, and so we sat peering into the
forest, hoping for travellers; and all we learnt by the experience was
that tea is a necessary of life out-bush.
On the second evening a traveller came in from the south track. "He
wouldn't refuse a woman, surely," every one said, and we welcomed him
warmly.
He had about three ounces of tea. "Meant to fill up here meself," he
said in apology, as, with the generosity of a bushman, he offered it all
unconditionally. Let us hope the man has been rewarded, and has never
since known what it is to be tealess out-bush! We never heard his name,
and I doubt if any one of us would know the man again if we saw him. All
we saw was a dingy tuckerbag, with its one corner bulging heart-shaped
with tea!
We accepted one half, for the man had a three-days, journey before him,
and Sam doled it out so frugally that we spent two comparatively happy
days before fixing our attention on the north track, along which Billy
would return.
In four and a half days he appeared, carrying a five-pound tea-tin on his
head, and was hailed with a yell of delight.
