Billabong had not done better, regretting the while
that the showers were so "patchy."
Then while Happy Dick was assuring us that "both Warlochs were bankers,"
the Sanguine Scot rode in through the slip-rails at the North track,
waving his hat in greeting and with Bertie and Bertie's Nellie tailing
along behind him.
"Back again!" Mac called, light-hearted as a schoolboy just escaped from
drudgery, while Bertie's Nellie, as a matter of course, was overcome with
ecstatic giggles.
With Mac and the showers with us, we felt there was little left to wish
for, and told Brown of the Bulls that he might now prepare to enjoy
himself, and with a chuckle of anticipation Brown "hoped" the
entertainment would prove "up to samples already met with," as he could
"do with a little enjoyment for a change."
CHAPTER XXII
As a matter of course, Bertie's Nellie quietly gathered the reins of
management into her own hands, and as a matter of course, Jimmy's Nellie
indulged in ear-splitting continuous protest, and Brown of the, Bulls
expressed himself as satisfied, so far, with the entertaining powers of
the homestead.
As a matter of course, we left the servant problem to work out its own
solution, and, also as a matter of course, the Sanguine Scot was full of
plans for the future but particularly bubbling over with the news that he
had secured Tam-o'-Shanter for a partner in the brumby venture.
"He'll be along in a few days," he explained, confident that he was "in
luck this time all right," and remembering Tam among the horses at the
Katherine, we congratulated him.
As a matter of course, our conversation was all of brumbies, and Mac was
also convinced that "when you reckoned everything up there was a good
thing in it."
"Of course it'll take a bit of jumping round," he agreed. But the Wet was
to be devoted to the building of a strong holding-yard, a "trap," and a
"wing," so as to be able to get going directly the Wet lifted; and
knowing the run well, and the extent of the brumby mobs on it, Mac then
and there set to work to calculate the "sized mob" that could be "got
together after the Wet," listening with interest to the account of our
brumby encounters out east.
But long before we had done with brumbies Cheon was announcing dinner in
his own peculiar way.
"Din-ner! Mis-sus! Boss! All about!" he chanted, standing in the open
doorway nearest to us; and as we responded to his call, he held the door
of the dining-net and glided into the details of his menu: "Veg-e-table
Soooup!" he sang: "Ro-oast Bee-ef! Pee-es! Bee-ens! Too-mar-toos!
Mar-row!" and listening, we felt Brown of the Bulls was being right
royally welcomed with as many vegetables as were good for him. But the
sweets shrank into a simple "bakee custard!"
"This is what you might call style!" Mac and Brown of the Bulls declared,
as Cheon waved them to seats with the air of an Emperor, and for two
courses the dinner went forward according to its menu, but at the third
course tinned peaches had usurped the place of the "bakee custard."
Every one looked surprised, but, being of the bush-folk, accepted peaches
and cream without comment, until Cheon, seeing the surprise, and feeling
an explanation was due - anyway to the missus - bent over her and whispered
in a hoarse aside. "Pussy cat been tuck-out custard."
For a moment the bushmen bent over their plates, intent on peaches and
cream; but there is a limit to even a bushman's dignity, and with a
choking gulp Mac exploded, and Brown of the Bulls joining in with a roar
dragged down the Maluka's self-control; and as Cheon reiterated: "What
name all about laugh, missus," chuckled in sympathy himself. Brown of
the Bulls pulled himself together for a moment, once more to assure us
that he was "Satisfied so far."
But the day's entertainment was only just beginning for after comparing
weights and heights, Mac, Jack, Dan and Brown of the Bulls, entered into
a trial of strength, and a heavy rail having been brought down from the
stackyard, the "caber" was tossed before an enthusiastic company. The
homestead thoroughfare was the arena and around it stood or sat the
onlookers: the Quarters travellers, Happy Dick, some of the Line Party,
the Maluka, the missus, and others, and as the caber pitched and tossed,
Cheon came and went, cheering every throw lustily with charming
impartiality, beating up a frothy cake mixture the while, until, finally,
the cakes being in the oven, he was drawn, with others, into the
competition.
A very jaunty, confident Cheon entered the lists, but a very surprised,
chagrined Cheon retired in high dudgeon. "What's 'er matter!" he said
indignantly. "Him too muchee heavy fellow. S'pose him little fellow me
chuck him all right," explaining a comical failure with even more comical
explanations. Soon after the retirement of our crestfallen Cheon, hot
cakes were served by a Cheon all rotundity and chuckles once more, but
immediately afterwards, a snort of indignation riveted our attention on
an exceedingly bristling, dignified Cheon, who was glaring across the
enclosure at two of our neighbour's black-boys, one of whom was the
bearer of a letter, and the other, of a long yellow vegetable-marrow.
Right up to the house verandah they came, and the letter was presented to
the Maluka, and the marrow to the missus in the presence of Cheon's glare
and an intense silence; for most of the bush-folk had heard of the
cabbage insult. Cheon had seen to that.
