You could get a drink and have a
good wash-up with the one cupful."
With the "fizz," Dan's interest in education revived, and after dinner he
took up the role of showman of the Roper scenery once more, and had us
scrambling over boulders and cliffs along the dry bed of the creek that
runs back from the Punch Bowl, until, having clambered over its left bank
into a shady glen, we found ourselves beneath the gem of the Roper - a
wide-spreading banyan tree, with its propped-up branches turning and
twisting in long winding leafy passages and balconies, over a feathery
grove of young palm trees that had crept into its generous shade.
Here and there the passages and balconies graded one to another's level,
all being held together by innumerable stays and props, sent down from
branch to branch, and from branches to the grassy turf beneath; and one
sweeping limb, coming almost to the ground in a gentle incline before
twisting away and up again, made ascent so simple that the men-folk sent
the missus for a "stroll in midair," sure that no white woman's feet had
yet trodden those winding ways. And as she strolled about the tree - not
climbed - hindered only by her holland riding-skirt, Brown followed,
anxiously but cautiously. Then, the spirit of vandalism taking hold of
the Maluka, he cut the name of the missus deep into the yielding bark.
There are some wonderful trees on the Elsey, but not one of them will
compare with the majesty and grandeur of that old banyan. Away from the
world it stands beyond those rocky ways and boulders, with its soft shade
sweeping curves, and feathery undergrowth, making a beautiful world of
its own. For years upon years it has stood there - may be for
centuries - sending down from its branches those props for its old age,
bountiful with its shade, and indifferent whether its path-ways be
trodden by white feet or black.
After the heat and "drouth" we could have loitered in that pleasant
shade; but we were due at the Red Lilies "second night out"; and it being
one of the unwritten laws of a "nigger-hunt" to keep appointments - "the
other chaps worrying a bit if you don't turn up" - soon after four o'clock
we were out in the blazing heat again, following the river now along its
higher flood-bank through grassy plains and open forest land.
By five o'clock Dan was prophesying that "it 'ud take us all we knew to
do the trick in daylight," but at six o'clock, when we were still eight
miles from the Red Lilies, the Maluka settled the question by calling for
a camp there and then. "The missus had had enough," the Maluka decided,
and Dan became anxious. "It's that drouth that's done it," he lamented;
and although agreeing with the Maluka that Jack would survive a few
hours' anxiety, regretted we had "no way of letting him know." (We were
not aware of the efficiency of smoke signalling).
We turned back a short distance for better watering for horses, settling
down for the night at the second "duck-under" - McMinn's bar - within sound
of the rushing of many waters; for here the river comes back to the
surface with a mighty roar and swirling currents. "Knockup camp," Dan
christened it in his pleasant way, and Sambo became unexpectedly curious.
"Missus knock up?" he asked, and the Maluka nodding, Sambo's question was
forgotten until the next mid-day.
By then we had passed the Red Lily lagoons, and ridden across the
salt-bush plain, and through a deep belt of tall, newly sprung green
grass, that hugged the river there just then, and having been greeted by
smug, smiling old black fellows, were saluting Jack across two or three
hundred feet of water, as we stood among our horses.
"Slewed!" Jack called in answer, through hollowed hands. "Didn't worry.
Heard - the - missus - had - knocked - up," and Dan leaned against his horse,
limp with amazement.
"Heard the missus had knocked up?" he gasped. "Well, I'm blowed! Talk of
surprise parties!" and the old black fellows looked on enjoying the
effect.
"Black fellow plenty savey," they said loftily, and Dan was almost
persuaded to a belief in debbel-debbels, until our return to the
homestead, when Jimmy's Nellie divulged the Court secret; then Dan
ejaculated another "Well, I'm blowed!" with the theory of second-sight
and thought-reading falling about his ears.
After a consultation across the river in long-drawn-out syllables, Jack
decided on a horse muster for the return trip - genuine this time - and
went on his way, after appointing to meet us at Knock-up camp next
evening. But our horses refusing to leave the deep green feed, we settled
down just where we were, beside the river, and formed a curious
camping-ground for ourselves, a small space hacked out and trampled down,
out of the dense rank grass that towered above and around us.
But this was to be a record trip for discomfort. Dan, on opening out the
tucker-bags, announced ruefully that our supply of meat had "turned on
us"; and as our jam-tin had "blown," we feared we were reduced to damper
only, until the Maluka unearthed a bottle of anchovy paste, falsely
labelled "Chicken and Ham." "Lot's wife," Dan called it, after "tackling
some as a relish."
Birds were everywhere about the lagoons - ducks, shags, great geese, and
pigmy geese, hovering and settling about them in screaming clouds; and
after dinner, deciding we might as well have a bit of game for supper,
we walked across the open salt-bush plain to the Big Red Lily. But
revolvers are hardly the thing for duck shooting, and the soft-nosed
bullets of the Maluka's rifle reducing an unfortunate duck to a tangled
mass of blood and feathers we were obliged to accept, willy-nilly, the
prospect of damper and "Lot's wife" for supper.
