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!
