Until Jimmy, losing his head in his lightness of heart,
dug Cheon in the ribs, and, waving a stick over his head, yelled in mock
fierceness: "Me wild-fellow, black fellow. Me myall-fellow."
Then Cheon came out in a new role. Without a moment's hesitation his arms
and legs appeared to fly out all together in Jimmy's direction,
completely doubling him up.
"Me myall-fellow, too," Cheon said calmly, master of himself and the
situation. Then, chuckling at Jimmy's discomfiture, he went on with his
work, while his helpers stared open-eyed with amazement; an infuriated
Chinese catherine-wheel being something new in the experience of a black
fellow. It was a wholesome lesson, though, and no one took liberties with
Cheon again.
The rubbish disposed of, leaking water-butts, and the ruins of collapsed
water-butts, were carried to the billabong, swelled in the water,
hammered and hooped back into steadfast, reliable water-butts, and
trundled along to their places in a merry, joyous procession.
With Cheon's hand on the helm, cream rose on the milk from somewhere. The
meat no longer turned sour. An expert fisherman was discovered among the
helpers - one Bob by name. Cheon's shot-gun appeared to have a magnetic
attraction for wild duck. A garden sprang up as by magic, grasshoppers
being literally chased off the vegetables. The only thing we lacked was
butter; and after a week of order and cleanliness and dazzlingly varied
menus, we wondered how we had ever existed without them.
It was no use trying to wriggle from under Cheon's foot once he put it
down. At the slightest neglect of duty, lubras or boys were marshalled
and kept relentlessly to their work until he was satisfied; and woe
betide the lubras who had neglected to wash hands, and pail and cow,
before sitting down to their milking. The very fowls that laid out-bush
gained nothing by their subtlety. At the faintest sound of a cackle, a
dosing lubra was roused by the point of Cheon's toe, as he shouted
excitedly above her: "Fowl sing out! That way! Catch 'im egg! Go on!"
pointing out the direction with much pantomime; and as the egg-basket
filled to overflowing, he either chuckled with glee or expressed further
contempt for Sam's ways.
But his especial wrath was reserved for the fowl-roosts over his sleeping
quarters. "What's 'er matter! Fowl sit down close up kitchen!" he
growled in furious gutturals, whenever his eyes rested on them; and as
soon as time permitted he mounted to the roof and, boiling over with
righteous indignation, hurled the offending roosts into space.
New roosts were then nailed to the branches of a spreading coolibar tree,
a hundred yards or so to the north of the buildings, the trunk encircled
with zinc to prevent snakes or wild cats from climbing into the roosts; a
movable ladder staircase made, to be used by the fowls at bedtime, and
removed as soon as they were settled for the night, lest the cats or
snakes should make unlawful use of it (Cheon always foresaw every
contingency); and finally, "boys" and lubras were marshalled to wean the
fowls from their old love.
