Had mustering been one of a manager's
duties, I'm afraid the house would have "come in handy" to pack the dog
away in with its chain.
As the yard of the Springs came into view, we were making plans for the
morrow, and admiring the fine mattress swinging before us on the tails of
the cattle; but there were cattle buyers at the Springs who upset all our
plans, and left no time for the bang-tailing of the mob in hand.
The buyers were Chinese drovers, authorised by their Chinese masters to
buy a mob of bullocks. "Want big mob," they said. "Cash! Got money
here," producing a signed cheque ready for filling in.
A Chinese buyer always pays "cash" for a mob - by cheque - generally taking
care to withdraw all cash from the bank before the cheque can be
presented, and, as a result, a dishonoured cheque is returned to the
station, reaching the seller some six or eight weeks after the sale. Six
or eight weeks more then pass in demanding explanations, and six or eight
more obtaining them, and after that just as many more as Chinese slimness
can arrange for before a settlement is finally made. "Cash," the drover
repeated insinuatingly at the Maluka's unfathomable "Yes ?" Then,
certain that he was inspired, added, "Spot Cash!"
But already the Maluka had decided on a plan of campaign and, echoing the
drover's "Spot Cash," began negotiations for a sale; and within ten
minutes the drovers retired to their camp, bound to take the mob when
delivered, and inwardly marvelling at the Maluka's simple trust.
Dan was appalled at it; but, always deferential where the Maluka's
business insight was concerned, only "hoped he knew that them chaps
needed a bit of watching."
"Their cash does," the Maluka corrected, to Dan's huge delight; and,
leaving the musterers to go on with their branding work, culling each mob
of its prime bullocks as they mustered, he set about finding some one to
"watch the cash," and four days later rode into the Katherine Settlement,
with Brown and the missus, as usual, at his heels.
We had spent one week out-bush, visiting the four points of the compass,
half a day at the homestead packing a fresh swag; three days riding into
the Katherine, having found incidental entertainment on the road, and on
the fourth day were entering into an argument by wire with Chinese
slimness. "The monotony would kill me," declared the townsfolk.
On the road in we had met the Village Settlement homeward bound - the
bonnie baby still riding on its mother's knee, and smiling out of the
depths of its sunbonnet; but every one else was longing for the bush.
Darwin had proved all unsatisfying bustle and fluster, and the trackless
sea, a wonder that inspired strange sickness when travelled over.
For four days the Maluka argued with Chinese slimness before he felt
satisfied that his cash was in safe keeping while the Wag and others did
as they wished with our spare time. Then, four days later, again Cheon
and Tiddle'ums were hailing us in welcome at the homestead.
But their joy was short-lived, for as soon as the homestead affairs had
been seen to, and a fresh swag packed, we started out-bush again to look
for Dan and his bullocks, and, coming on their tracks at our first night
camp, by following them up next morning we rode into the Dandy's camp at
the Yellow Hole well after midday, to find ourselves surrounded by the
stir and bustle of a cattle camp.
"Whatever do you do with your time?" ask the townsfolk, sure that life
out-bush is stagnation, but forgetting that life is life wherever it may
be lived.
CHAPTER XVIII
Only three weeks before, as we hunted for it through scrub and bush and
creek-bed, the Yellow Hole had been one of our Unknown Waters, tucked
snugly away in an out-of-the-way elbow of creek country, and now we found
it transformed into the life-giving heart of a bustling world of men and
cattle and commerce. Beside it stood the simple camp of the stockman - a
litter of pack-bags, mosquito-nets, and swags; here and there were
scattered the even more simple camps of the black boys; and in the
background, the cumbrous camp of the Chinese drovers reared itself up in
strong contrast to the camps of the bushfolk - two fully equipped tents
for the drovers themselves and a simpler one for their black boys. West
of the Yellow Hole boys were tailing a fine mob of bullocks, and to the
east other "boys" were "holding" a rumbling mob of mixed cattle, and
while Jack and Dan rode here and there shouting orders for the "cutting
out" of the cattle, the Dandy busied himself at the fire, making tea as a
refresher, before getting going in earnest, the only restful, placid,
unoccupied beings in the whole camp being the Chinese drovers. Not made
of the stuff that "lends a hand" in other people's affairs, they sat in
the shade of their tents and looked on, well pleased that men should
bustle for their advantage. As we rode past the drovers they favoured us
with a sweet smile of welcome, while Dan met us with a chuckle of delight
at the sweetness of their smile, and as Jack took our horses - amused both
at the drovers' sweetness and Dan's appreciation of it - the Dandy greeted
us with the news that we had "struck it lucky, as usual," and that a cup
of tea would be ready in "half a shake."
Dan also considered we had "struck it lucky," but from a different point
of view, for he had only just come into camp with the mixed cattle, and
as the bullocks among them more than completed the number required, he
suggested the drovers should take delivery at once, assuring us, as we
drank the tea, that he was just about dead sick of them "little Chinese
darlings."
The "little Chinese darlings," inwardly delighted that the Maluka's
simple trust seemed as guileless as ever, smugly professed themselves
willing to fall in with any arrangement that was pleasing to the white
folk, and as they mounted their horses Dan heaved a sigh of satisfaction.
