"Missus want feather!" Sam said, with his unfathomable smile, when Mac
flared out at him, and again the missus appeared the culprit.
The Maluka advised making the orders a little clearer, and Sam was told
to use more discretion in his obedience, and, smiling and apologetic,
promised to obey.
The lubras also promised to be more painstaking, reserving only the right
to rest if they should "knock up longa work."
The Maluka, Mac and the Dandy, looked on in amusement while the missus
wrestled with the servant question; and even the Quiet Stockman grinned
sympathetically at times, unconsciously becoming interested in a woman
who was too occupied to ask questions.
For five days I "wrestled"; and the only comfort I had was in Bertie's
Nellie, a gentle-faced old lubra almost sweet-faced. She undoubtedly did
her best, and, showing signs of friendship, was invaluable in "rounding
up" the other lubras when they showed signs of "knocking up."
On the morning of the sixth day Sam surpassed himself in obedience. I had
hinted that breakfast should be a little earlier, adding timidly that he
might use a little more ingenuity in the breakfast menu, and at the first
grey streak of dawn breakfast was announced, and, dressing hurriedly, we
sat down to what Sam called "Pump-pie-King pie with raisins and mince."
The expression on Sam's face was celestial.
