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The Dingo Boys: The Squatters of Wallaby Range, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 11. "I Said It Was A Snake" |
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_ CHAPTER ELEVEN. "I SAID IT WAS A SNAKE"
"What's the matter?" cried Tim. "Here, boys, quick! There's something wrong at the house." The three boys, who had heard the faint cries from a distance, set off at a run. "It must be aunt. The girls and mamma are down by the waterfall," cried Rifle. "Yes; it's aunt sure enough," said Norman, as they saw the old lady hurrying toward them. "It must be the blacks come at last," cried Tim; "and oh, boys, we have not got our guns!" "Who's going about always tied to a gun?" cried Norman, angrily.--"Here, aunt, what's the matter?" "Oh, my boy, my boy!" cried the old lady, throwing her arms about the lad's neck, as he reached her first, and with so much energy that she would have upset him, and they would have fallen together had not his brother and cousin been close behind ready to give him their support. "But don't cling to me, auntie," cried Norman, excitedly. "If you can't stand, lie down. Where are they?" "In--in the kitchen, my dear," she panted; and then burst into a hysterical fit of sobbing, which came to an end as the boys hurriedly seated her beneath a tree. "How many are there, aunt?" whispered Rifle, excitedly. "Only one, my boys." "One?" cried Norman. "I say, boys, we aren't afraid of one, are we?" "No," cried the others. "But I wish old Tam o' Shanter was here with his nulla-nulla." "Never mind," said Norman, flushing up as he felt that, as eldest, he must take the lead. "There is no chance to get the guns. We'll run round by the wood-house; there are two choppers and an axe there. He won't show fight if he sees we're armed." "I don't know," said Rifle, grimly. "He must be a fierce one, or he wouldn't have ventured alone." "Perhaps there are a dozen of 'em behind, hiding," said Tim. "Shall we cooey?" "No," said Norman, stoutly. "Not till we've seen. He may be only begging after all. Come on." "Stop! Stop! Don't leave me here," cried Aunt Georgie excitedly, as the boys began to move off. "But we can't take you, aunt," said Rifle, soothingly, "with a lot of blacks about." "Blacks? Where?" cried Aunt Georgie rising. "Where you said: in the kitchen." "Stuff and nonsense, boy! I never said anything of the kind. I said it was a snake." "Snake!" cried the boys in chorus. "You didn't say anything of the kind, aunt," cried Norman, indignantly. "Don't contradict, sir. I declare I never said a word about blacks. I went into the kitchen and heard a rustling sound between me and the door, and I thought it was one of the fowls come in to beg for a bit of bread, when I looked round, and there on the floor was a monstrous great serpent, twining and twisting about, and if I hadn't dashed out of the place it would have seized me." "A big one, aunt?" "A monster, my dear. But what are you going to do?" Norman laughed, and looked at the others. "Oh, I think we shall manage to turn him out, aunt," he said. "But be careful, my dears, and don't run into danger." "Oh no; we'll get the guns and talk to him through the window." "I am glad it wasn't mamma," said Rifle. "Or the girls," cried his cousin. "Then I'm of no consequence at all," said the old lady, wiping her forehead and looking hurt. "Ah, well, I suppose I'm old and not of much importance now. There, go and kill the dreadful thing before it bites anybody." They were not above eighty or ninety yards from the house, and they hurried on, closely followed by Aunt Georgie, meaning to go in by the principal door, when all at once a black figure, having a very magpieish look from the fact of his being clothed in an exceedingly short pair of white drawers, came from behind the house, and seeing them, came forward. "Hi! Shanter!" shouted Norman, "look out. Big snake." The black's hand went behind him instantly, and reappeared armed with his nulla-nulla as he looked sharply round for the reptile. "No, no; in the house," cried Norman, leading the way toward the open door so as to get the guns. Shanter bounded before him, flourishing his club, all excitement on the instant. "No, no; let me come first," said the boy, in a low husky voice. "I want to get the guns. The snake's in the kitchen." The black stopped short, and stood with his club hanging down, staring at the boy. Then a grin overspread his face as Norman reappeared with two loaded guns, one of which he handed to Tim, Rifle having meanwhile armed himself with an axe, from where it hung just inside the door. "Now then, come on round to the back. It's a big one." But Shanter laughed and shook his head. "Ah, plenty game," he said. "Baal play game." "No. There is one, really," cried Norman, examining the pan of his gun. "It attacked aunt." Shanter shook his head. "Baal. Can't pidney. What say?" "Big snake no budgery, bite aunt," said Norman. "Snake bite big white Mary. Baal bite: all mumkull." "Oh, I do wish the man would speak English," cried Aunt Georgie. "There, you boys, stand back.--Shanter, go and kill the snake." Shanter shook his head and tucked his nulla-nulla in his waistband again, laughing silently all the time. "But there is a terribly great one, Shanter, and I order you to go and kill it." "Baal mumkull snake." "Yes; you can kill it, sir. Go and kill it directly. Throw that thing at it, and knock it down." Shanter shook his head again. "Here, I'll soon shoot it, aunt," said Norman; but Aunt Georgie held his arm tightly. "No, sir, I shall not let you go.--Rifle, Tim, I forbid you to stir.-- Shanter, do as I tell you," she continued, with a stamp of her foot. "Go and kill that horrible snake directly, or not one bit of damper do you ever get again from me." "Big white Mary gib Shanter plenty damper." "Yes; and will again. You are a big, strong man, and know how to kill snakes. Go and kill that one directly." Shanter shook his head. "Why, you are not afraid, sir?" "No. Baal 'fraid snake," said Shanter in a puzzled way, as he looked searchingly from one to the other. "Then go and do as I say." "He's afraid of it," said Norman. "I don't like them, aunt, but I'll go and shoot it." "Mine baal 'fraid," cried the black, angrily. "Mumkull plenty snake. Metancoly." "Then why don't you go and kill that one?" said Norman as his aunt still restrained him. "Baal snake bunyip," cried Shanter, angrily, naming the imaginary demon of the blacks' dread. "Who said it was a bunyip?" cried Rifle. "It's a big snake that tried to bite aunt." Shanter laughed and shook his head again. "Baal mumkull snake bulla (two) time. Mumkull bunyip plenty. Come again." "What muddle are you talking?" cried Norman, angrily; "the brute will get away. Look here, Shan, are you afraid?" "Mine baal 'fraid." "Then go and kill it." "Baal mumkull over 'gain. Shanter mumkull. Make fire, put him in kidgen." "What!" cried Aunt Georgie. "You put the snake in the kitchen?" The black nodded. "Mine put snake in kidgen for big white Mary." "To bite me?" "Baal--baal--baal bite big white Mary. Big white Mary, Marmi (captain), plenty bite snake. Good to eat." "Here, I see," cried Norman, bursting out laughing, the black joining in. "He brought the snake for you to cook, auntie." "What!" cried Aunt Georgie, who turned red with anger as the boy shook himself loose and ran round to the kitchen door, closely followed by Shanter and the others. As Norman ran into the kitchen, he stopped short and pointed the gun, for right in the middle of the floor, writhing about in a way that might easily have been mistaken for menace, was a large carpet-snake. Just as the boy realised that its head had been injured, Shanter made a rush past him, seized the snake by the tail, and ran out again dragging it after him with one hand, then snatching out his club, he dropped the tail, and quick as thought gave the writhing creature a couple of heavy blows on the head. "Baal mumkull nuff," he said, as the writhing nearly ceased. Then, taking hold of the tail again, he began to drag the reptile back toward the kitchen door, but Norman stopped him. "No; don't do that." "Plenty budgery. Big white Mary." "He says it's beautiful, aunt, and he brought it as a present for you. Shall he put it in the kitchen?" "What?" cried Aunt Georgie; "make the horrid fellow take it, and bury it somewhere. I was never so frightened in my life." All this was explained to Shanter, who turned sulky, and looked offended, marching off with his prize into the scrub, his whereabouts being soon after detected by a curling film of grey smoke. "Here, come on, boys," cried Tim. "Shanter's having a feed of roast snake." "Let's go and see," cried Norman, and they ran to the spot where the fire was burning, to find that Tim was quite correct. Shanter had made a good fire, had skinned his snake, and was roasting it in the embers, from which it sent forth a hissing sound not unlike its natural utterance, but now in company with a pleasantly savoury odour. His back was toward them, and as they approached he looked round sourly, but his black face relaxed, and he grinned good-humouredly again, as he pointed to the cooking going on. "Plenty budgery," he cried. "Come eat lot 'long Shanter." But the boys said "No." The grubs were tempting, but the carpet-snake was not; so Shanter had it all to himself, eating till Rifle laughed, and said that he must be like india-rubber, else he could never have held so much. _ |
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