Chapter 8. To The Bush

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_ CHAPTER EIGHT. TO THE BUSH

For some moments Nic acted involuntarily as he scrambled on his clothes, feeling, as he did, in a confused way that it was his duty to dress, but why and wherefore, he had not the most remote idea.

It was cold and raw, and everything went wrong; and as he could not get himself quite dry, his shirt stuck to him and refused to go on. Those things which ought to have been in one place had got into another; and even when the cold water had thoroughly wakened him he did not get on very well, and felt ill-humoured, stupid, and out of sorts.

"It's so vexatious starting so soon," thought Nic, as lie thrust brush, comb, and nightshirt into the bag he had nearly packed over night; and at last he opened the door, just as his father called up the stairs:

"Come, Nic, my boy: they didn't teach you at school to be quick."

"Hush! you'll wake Lady O'Hara," protested the boy.

"I should be puzzled to," replied his father shortly. "Come in here."

"In here" meant the dining-room, where the first person he saw, by the light of the candles standing on the white breakfast-cloth, was their hostess.

Nic was quite awake now, and the last trace of ill-temper passed away as he shook hands.

"I did not expect to see you this morning," he said.

"And did you think I was going to let old friends start without a comfortable breakfast? Why, it will be days, boy, before you get another."

"Days?" said Nic.

"To be sure, boy. There is no stage coach for you, and you'll have to keep with your waggon. These bullocks go about two miles an hour."

This was news to Nic, who had been imbued with some kind of notion that he was going to get home that same evening, and that was why his father had started so early.

Sir John entered the room directly after, and the meal was just as if it had been nine o'clock instead of four in the morning; so that the travellers were well prepared, when the doctor rose, to say good-bye, for the cracking of a stock whip and sundry ejaculations and apostrophes to the bullocks to "come on," and "get over," and "pull," were heard outside, where a couple of horses freshly brought round were stamping and pawing the dust, impatient to be off.

The dogs were hurried round from the stables--these being the two collies intended for the doctor--and after many frantic dashes at the horses, they were taken forward toward the waggon, where the bullocks were immediately driven into a state of commotion, and faced round to lower their horns and receive their enemies.

Finally, however, the two excited animals were safely chained to the back of the waggon, which started at once with a great deal of whip cracking and shouting on the part of Brookes, his fellow, Leather, being perfectly silent, and the black nowhere to be seen.

This start having been accomplished, the doctor returned with his son to say their final farewells to the governor and his lady.

"There, good-bye, Nic," cried the latter; "it's only a little way off you live. We think nothing of a few hundred miles here, and we shall be coming to see you, or you will us before very long. Are you a good horseman? That's a spirity-looking thing I see you're to ride."

Nic was nonplussed, and his father came to his help:

"Nic hasn't had time to practise much; he'll be a better rider next time he comes down to the front."

"That's right," cried Lady O'Hara. "There: goodbye, and bless you, my boy! Give my dear love to your mother, and tell her I shall want to steal you for a visit first time I come."

"I shall not be able to spare him," said the doctor, who had mounted, and now held the rein of the second horse. "Come, Nic, boy, up with you."

Nic nervously raised his foot to the stirrup, made a desperate spring as he clung to the pommel and cantle of the saddle, and somehow came down in his seat; but the horse started, and nearly threw him on to its neck.

"Steady!" cried the doctor sharply, as he held the rein firmly; and, nervous and startled, Nic shuffled back and nipped the saddle with all the force of which his knees were capable.

"Are you all right, boy?" cried the governor.

"Yes, sir," said Nic, as firmly as he could, though he was wondering how long it would be before he was all wrong.

"Good-bye, O'Hara," cried the doctor. "You will hear from me when I get home."

"Good-bye," cried the governor; and, leaning toward his old friend, he whispered:

"I'd take care: that boy can't ride a bit."

"I know," said the doctor. "Don't let him see that you do. Good-bye."

He touched his horse's sides, and the beautiful beast started to go off at a canter, but was checked instantly, to keep it in a walk, with the result that it began to fret and dance. Nic's lighter steed followed suit, and the boy's position grew moment by moment more desperate. Now he lost one stirrup, then the other; and it was only by getting a good grip of the pommel with one hand that he was able to stay on.

Finally, though, the horses were quieted down, and paced together in a walk, when the doctor said quietly:

"Why, Nic, it's a good thing that it is still dark. I'm afraid we should have had some remarks made if people had been about."

"I--I never said I could ride, father," said Nic, in a reproachful tone.

"I'm glad you did not, boy. It's a good thing that you have no spurs."

"Is it, father?"

"Of course," cried the doctor; "if you had, Sour Sorrel would have soon pitched you off."

"I'm very sorry, father," faltered Nic, who felt very miserable as well as uncomfortable. "Had I better get down and lead him?"

"If you feel so much afraid that you dare not stop on, my boy," said the doctor drily.

The dawn was coming, and Nic turned to glance at his father's thin, cleanly cut profile, to see that he was gazing straight before him towards where the waggon could be dimly seen in front.

"Well, are you?" continued the doctor, without turning his head.

Nic was silent, and the horse stumbled through putting a foot into a deep rut of the unkept road.

"Hold up, sir--steady, steady!" cried the doctor, drawing more heavily upon the rein he still held, as well as his own; and then, after Nic had shuffled back into the seat from which he had again been shaken, "I said, are you too much alarmed to stop on?"

These words sounded very stern, and stung and hurt the boy to the quick.

"I have never learned to ride, father," he said reproachfully; "and it is all fresh to me to be mounted upon a spirited horse like this."

"Of course it is: perfectly fresh. Then you feel afraid?"

"Yes, of falling off, father. I have nearly been down three times."

"Six, Nic. Well, get off and climb on to the waggon." Nic drew a deep breath as his father checked the horses; and, stung more than ever, the boy kicked his nag with his heels and sent it forward.

"Well, why don't you get down, sir?"

"Because I'd rather keep on and ride, father," said Nic huskily.

"Do you mean that, sir?"

"Yes, father."

"Thank you, Nic," said the doctor, turning to him with a smile. "I like the boy who is not afraid to own that he is alarmed; and better still to hear you say through your teeth that you will not be beaten-- metaphorically, of course. Now, then, we understand our position. This is not boasting, mind--look at me. You see me here?"

"Yes, father," said Nic, feeling envious of the easy, upright position of his father in the saddle.

"Let me tell you, then, that I feel as easy and comfortable here as if I were seated upon a cushion in a carriage. More so, for this noble beast knows me as I know him, and after a fashion we are as one together in going over the ground. Do you understand what that means, Nic?"

"Yes, father; but you have learned to ride."

"Yes, and more, boy. It means the confidence which comes of knowledge. When I came out here, years ago, I had not been on horseback for twenty years; I was a miserable invalid, and when I mounted my horse--a necessity out in a wild country like this--I suffered a martyrdom of nervous dread. But I did what you have just done, made up my mind that I would master my fear and ride, and I won. It took me a whole year. As for you, it will not take you a month."

"So little time?" cried Nic excitedly.

"Or less. We have about a week's journey before us; and from what I have just learned, I shall be greatly surprised if you do not canter up to the station with me, a little stiff and sore about the knees, but good friends with Sour Sorrel there, and ready to think riding a delightful accomplishment."

Nic shook his head.

"You don't know me yet, father," said the boy sadly.

"Better than you know yourself," replied the doctor. "But don't let's waste time. You want to learn?"

"Horribly, father," cried Nic.

"Very well, then. I'll give you a lesson at once."

"Not faster, to begin with?" said Nic quickly.

"No," said the doctor, laughing. "I want to give you confidence, not destroy it. So now then, to begin with, you shall learn what danger you run. I am an experienced horseman, I have tight hold of your rein, so that your horse cannot bolt, and I have promised you not to go faster than a walk. You see, then, the utmost that could happen in that way would be that the nag might caper a little."

"Or kick and throw me off."

"He will not kick, boy. He is too well broken. Secondly, you might lose your seat and come off: If you did, how far would you have to fall?"

"About four feet, father."

"Say four. Suppose you were on a see-saw at school, would you be afraid of falling, off four or five or six feet?"

"No, father, of course not."

"Then why should you be afraid of falling that distance from the horse?"

"I don't know," said Nic. "It is because it is all so fresh, I suppose. Yes, I do: my foot might hang in the stirrup and the horse gallop away with me, kicking me every time he strode."

"When I am holding him? The stirrups, then: take your feet out."

"Out of the stirrups, father? Is it safe to do so?"

"You were alarmed lest your foot should hang in one. Quick! out with them. That's right: now draw them up, cross the leathers, and let the irons hang over on each side. Now how do you feel?"

"As if I must go off on one side or the other, father. The saddle is so dreadfully slippery."

"Take tight hold of it, then, with your knees, and keep your balance. That's not right: I said take hold with your knees, not the calves of your legs."

"That way, father?"

"Yes, that's better. Let your legs go well down, your heels too, and whatever you do don't touch the pommel with your hand."

That last order was hard, for it was very easy to make a catch at the pommel so as to hold on.

"Sit up, boy. Don't bend forward. It hurts you a little at first, but you get more and more used to it every hour. Now, then, we'll walk gently past the waggon. Don't let the men think you have never been on a horse before."

The horses' pace being so much faster than that of the bullocks, they were soon by, after the doctor had spoken in a friendly way to the dogs, given his men an order or two, and then cast a critical eye over the sleek, patient oxen, which trudged along with swinging tails and horns giving a smart rap now and then as they encountered their yoke-fellows.

The track was plainly marked, but it had no pretence of being a road as it went on and on, to be lost in the distance of the bright grey morning. Away to their left was the harbour, with its shipping, and beyond it the ocean; the town lay behind them, and on either side of the track with its lines of ruts there were plenty of green pasture and trees scattered here and there--monsters some seemed to be--and in the openings were great patches of short, scrubby growth.

All at once, as Nic was thinking how peculiar the trees looked in colour, there came a loud musical series of notes from a grove-like patch, in which the boy immediately concluded there must be a house.

"Hear that?" said the doctor.

"Yes, father, plainly."

"Well, what do you make of it?"

"Some one playing a kind of flute."

"No, Nic. That is our Australian magpie."

"Magpie?" cried Nic, forgetting his uncomfortable seat; "but magpies at home in Kent have a harsh kind of laugh."

"Like that?" said the doctor, as a loud, hoarse chuckle arose.

"No: harsher and noisier. Was that the magpie?"

"No, Nic; that was our laughing jackass."

"What! A donkey?"

"No; there he sits, on that bare limb," cried the doctor, pointing up to a big, heavy-headed, browny-grey bird, which seemed to be watching them, with its great strong beak on one side.

Nic examined the bird carefully.

"You would not think that was a kingfisher?" said the doctor.

"No," cried Nic; "though the shape is something like, all but the tail, which is so much bigger."

"But it is a kingfisher all the same, though he does not fish as his ancestors may have done. He lives on beetles, lizards, mice, and frogs, and that sort of game. There's your flute-player again."

For the sweet, melodious, whistling notes arose once more, sounding somewhat as if a person were running the notes of a chord up and down with different variations.

"It's very sweet," said Nic.

"Yes. The colonists call it the magpie, but it is the piping crow of Australia. It is one of the earliest singers, and if we'd been here at daybreak I dare say we should have heard quite a long solo."

Farther on Nic had a good look at one of the piping crows in the black-and-white jacket which had obtained for it the familiar name of magpie; but it was far from being like that handsome bird the British magpie, with its long tail glossed with metallic reflexions of golden green and purple, and with wing feathers to match.

Two or three times over, out in the open country, the horses startled Nic by their disposition to go off at a canter, but after being checked they calmly settled down to their walking pace, which was fast enough to leave the bullock team behind; consequently Dr Braydon drew rein from time to time at the summit of some hill or ridge, so that his son might have a good view of the new land which was henceforth to be his home. Here he pointed out the peculiar features of the landscape and its resemblance to an English park, save that, instead of the grassy land being dotted with oak, beech, elm, or fir, the trees were always what the doctor called "gum," with their smooth bark and knotted limbs, but gum trees of several varieties. Here and there a farmstead could be seen, but they were few and far between; still, where they did show, with the roughly built houses and their bark or shingle roofs, flocks of sheep and droves of cattle could be seen scattered widely over the plain.

"Did you say we should be about a week getting home?" said Nic, after one of these halts.

"Perhaps longer," said the doctor. "Everything depends on those crawling gentlemen behind. They have a heavy load: you see there is no road, and if rain comes, as it is sure to before long, the load will seem twice as heavy to the patient beasts, and I can't afford to hurry them and get them out of condition. Rain falls very seldom here, Nic; but when it does come there's no nonsense about it. There's a river on ahead which we shall have to cross."

"Then you have bridges," said Nic naively, "if you have no regular roads?"

"Bridges? No; we shall have to ford it if we were going across to-day, it would be a few inches deep; if one of our big rain storms comes, it might be forty or fifty feet. I have seen it sixty."

Nic glanced at his father.

"Simple truth, my boy," he said. "The river is in a deep trough between two ranges of hills; and if there have been rains we might be detained on the bank for days or weeks."

"And whereabouts does home lie?" asked Nic.

"Yonder," said his father, pointing toward the north-east. "The air is wonderfully clear now, and perhaps you can see what I do--that faint blue ridge that looks like a layer of cloud low down on the horizon."

"Yes, I can see it," said Nic eagerly; "but surely it won't take us a week to ride there. It looks quite close."

"Yes, in this clear atmosphere, Nic; but it is a long way off, as you will find before we get there. Of course if we could canter our thirty or forty miles a day we should soon be there, but we are an escort only. We want to take care of the waggon."

"But couldn't the men take care of that?"

"Perhaps; but a good master looks after his valuables himself. Brookes is a pretty trusty man, but the other is a new hand, whom I have lately had from my neighbour Mr Dillon, the magistrate, and I have not tried him yet sufficiently to trust. That load contains things that will be of great value to me, things Lady O'Hara bought me: seeds and implements, guns, ammunition, powder, and endless odds and ends wanted by your mother and sisters, who cannot send into the next street to buy what they want."

"But surely in this wild, open place no one would interfere with the waggon?"

"Think not? Why, Nic, we have bushrangers--escaped convicts--beside plenty of people less desperate but more dishonest, without counting the blacks."

"Are there any of them about here?" asked Nic, with a glance round.

"Perhaps. We hardly know where they may be. You see they belong to wandering tribes which roam about in search of food. They are here to-day and gone to-morrow. We never know when they may come."

"Are they dangerous?"

"Yes and no, my boy. We always have to be on our guard, especially in such a lonely place as ours."

"But why did you go and live in such a lonely spot, father?" said Nic.

"Because the place suited me, my boy. I rode over hundreds of miles of country before I pitched upon the Bluffs and took up the land. It was beautiful, the pasture was good, and there was that more than great necessary we look for in this droughty country--a good supply of water. I have known squatters out here lose hundreds of cattle and thousands of sheep in a dry summer, when everything is burnt up."

By this time the bullocks had dragged their load close by, and for the first time Nic stared at a black figure, dressed in a strip of cloth and a spear, walking behind the waggon.

"There's one of the blacks, father," whispered Nic, staring at the shock-headed fellow, who turned a little on one side, and displayed a short club with a large knob at one end.

"Only the fellow who helped to load," said the doctor.

Nic looked hard, for he had not recognised the man.

"He has got rid of his shirt and trousers, Nic, for the march home. These blacks are eager to get clothes, but it always seems a misery to them to wear anything but a bit of cloth."

"But is it never cold here?"

"Very, sometimes--frosty; but they make a bit of a shelter and a tiny fire, and linger over it till the hot sun comes out, and then forget the cold. The old people here never even built a hut, Nic--only a shelter-- a rough bit of fence."

In the middle of the day, when the sun came down with tremendous power, a halt was called beneath the shade of a gigantic gum tree, and Nic for the first time realised why this name was applied to the one great family of trees peculiar to the land, for drops of gum which had oozed out were gleaming red like carbuncles in the hot sunshine.

The doctor sprang from his horse, but Nic sat quite still.

"Dawn with you, my boy," cried his father; but, instead of obeying, Nic screwed up his face into a peculiar shape.

"I don't feel as if I could, father."

"Oh! Stiff. Down with you, boy. You must work that off."

Nic set his teeth, and rolled off his horse in a most ungraceful way, to stand feeling as if the ground was unsafe and all on the move.

"Hurt?" said his father, smiling.

"Yes, father. It's as if my legs had been dragged wide apart and stretched."

"Getting in shape for your saddle, my boy. You'll soon get over this. Now look here."

Nic did look there, and was shown how to hobble his nag's fore legs to keep it from straying, and how to unbridle and take off the saddle.

"Always give your horse a good rub down where the saddle has been, Nic," said the doctor. "Horses are delicate animals. They deserve good treatment too. Your nag carries you well, and he looks to you for payment in food, rest, and good treatment. These make all the difference in the way a horse will last on a journey. Now, my lads, come along. Water."

The doctor led the way, and the horses followed like a couple of dogs. Nic was following too, with the sensation strongly upon him that he should like to go down on all-fours and follow like a dog, for walking seemed to be a mode of progress to which he was not accustomed.

"Wait a moment, Nic," said his father. "Unfasten the dogs and lead them here. They must want water too."

Nic went to where the dogs were chained to the tail of the waggon, trying to walk firmly and erect, but it was hard work, for his legs seemed to be independent of his body, and there were moments when he felt as if he had none at all.

But he tried not to show it, and while the men were unyoking the oxen, which immediately began to graze on the rich, succulent grass, Nic proceeded to unchain the dogs.

The task was not so easy as it looked, for the collies were frantic at the thought of being unfastened, and barked and leaped about wildly. To make matters worse, they had been hard at work trying to strangle one another on the way by leaping over their chains, and tying them up in an almost inseparable knot, one which refused to yield to his fingers; and after many tries Nic appealed to Brookes.

"I wish you'd come and unfasten this," he said. "I want to take the dogs to water."

"Take the dogs to water!" grumbled the man. "Why can't they take themselves? Hi! Leather! Come and untie these dogs."

The younger man left the oxen he was loosening, and approached Nic in a surly way, hardly glancing at him; but for a few moments the chain-knot baffled him, while the dogs bounded about wildly.

"Hold them by the collars for a minute," said Leather harshly.

Nic obeyed, feeling mentally lower now, for he seemed to be the servant instead of the other.

Then he felt better, for the man softened a little in his manner.

"Poor brutes!" he said: "prisoners and thirsty. Steady, my lads, steady!"

"Oh, they won't be prisoners long," said Nic. "Father's afraid that they'd run back and try and get on board the ship or to the governor's house."

"There you are," cried the man, placing the chains in his hand, when, as if scenting out the water, the two collies started off, with eyes starting and tongues hanging out of their mouths, tugging and striving to get on, and forcing Nic to follow at a trot, his legs hurting him for the first few moments horribly.

They were not long reaching the shady pool where the horses were now standing in a shallow, with the drops falling from their muzzle.

"Poor beasts! they are thirsty," cried the doctor, as Nic was literally dragged to the edge of the pool, the dogs striving to plunge right in. "Don't let them go, Nic."

"But they'll have me in, father."

"Don't let them, boy. Ah!"

Nic had not the least intention of letting them, but as the dogs had tugged at their chains the boy was forced from a hobble into a trot, and then, before the doctor could help, he caught one foot in the tough herbage, tripped, went down, and was dragged a yard or two, and then, with a rush and tremendous splash, he followed the dogs' plunge off the bank into deep water, to be towed here and there by the delighted animals, which swam about, barking, drinking, and threatening to tangle their chains in a worse knot than before--to wit, round Nic.

But after the first few moments' confusion the boy touched bottom, and began to wade back, finding it easier to master the dogs in the water than out.

"Well, that's a nice beginning, Nic!" said the doctor.

"Isn't it horrid?" cried the boy.

"Wet?" said his father laconically. "There, it might have been worse. Let them drink, and then bring them back to the waggon and tie them up. We must keep them on the chain till we get them home. Poor fellows, then!" he cried, reaching down to pat the dripping heads. "There! you've had as much as is good for you. Come along."

A tug or two at the chains brought the dogs out, to let themselves off, as it were, and scatter glistening water drops from their shaggy hides, after which they broke out into a duet of barks, and danced about on the bank, wagging their tails, evidently inviting Nic to cast sticks into the water for them to fetch, but they followed quietly enough, with the horses behind them, lowering their heads to bite playfully at the collies' waving tails.

"You can get at your portmanteau; it's on the top," said the doctor, as soon as the dogs were secured. "Get out some dry things. You can make a dressing-room behind the tree."

All this the boy proceeded to do, and by the time he had changed he felt none the worse for his involuntary bath, and hung his wrung-out garments on the scorching waggon-tilt to dry.

This done, he obeyed his father's summons, and found him seated in the shade, waiting with a basket of provisions, which Lady O'Hara had provided for their use, while the two men were seated beneath another tree eating, the black standing on one leg a short distance away, resting upon his spear and holding the sole of his right foot flat against his left knee so as to form a peculiar angle. And every now and then one of the men pitched him a piece of bread, which he caught deftly and proceeded to eat.

"Just as if he were a dog," thought Nic, as he sat down by his father and began his _al fresco_ dinner.

And how good it was! He forgot all about the stiffness in his legs in the pure enjoyment of those moments. No school picnic had ever approached it, for everything was so gloriously new and fresh. The beautiful land stretched undulating right away to the blue-tinted mountains, the water-pool sparkled in the sunshine, the horses and cattle grazed in the thick rich grass, and the waggon helped to form a picture against a clump of shrubs, half-covered with yellow flowers, while a delicious scent of musk filled the air.

Never had repast tasted so delicious; and, with two exceptions, every living creature seemed to be partaking of this enjoyment in the midst of the peaceful repose in that lovely spot. The exceptions were the dogs, which kept on watching them and uttering an uneasy bark now and then, for the rich grass in which they stood was not to their taste.

Nic went on eating in silence for a few minutes, and then, breaking a loaf in two, rose and went off to the dogs, which readily attacked the bread, a long diet of biscuit on board ship having made them fairly vegetarian in their tastes.

The doctor nodded approval as Nic returned wondering whether he would receive a reproof, and the wayside meal went on till the doctor spoke.

"Well, Nic," he said, "how do you like the beginning of your rough life?"

"It's glorious, father," cried the boy eagerly.

"Humph! In spite of the first lesson in riding, the ducking, and this muddly way of eating--no table-cloth, no chairs or table?"

"Oh, I like it."

"Because it's new and the sun shines?"

"I know that the sun doesn't always shine, father," cried Nic. "I shall like it, I know."

"That's right. But look: here come some visitors that you have only seen in cages at home."

Nic had already sprung to his feet, and he walked out from beneath the tree to gaze excitedly at a flock of white birds that came sailing up, evidently to alight in the grove, but the sudden appearance of the boy made them turn off, shrieking harshly, to find a resting-place farther on, and Nic returned disappointed.

"Legs seem to be better, Nic?" said the doctor.

"Yes; I had forgotten them, father. But those birds!"

"Well, you scared them. You saw what they were?"

"Not white pigeons or gulls?" said Nic. "I could almost have fancied that they were cockatoos."

"No fancy about it, Nic. They were sulphur crests. You'll see thousands in the groves down by the river."

"Is there a river about here?"

"Your wet clothes seemed to suggest something of the kind," said the doctor, laughing.

"But that was a pond," said Nic.

"A water-hole--a deep place in the river. That depression is a river, Nic," continued the doctor, pointing; "there it runs yonder. You can trace it by the trees which cluster along its course. It is dried up now, all but a hole here and there; but after rains it is a rushing stream, and I dare say a little water is always trickling along its course from hole to hole a few feet under ground. Now then, pack up the basket. We shall want it for supper. Have a nap afterwards if you are tired. I shall not go on for an hour and a half yet."

But Nic wanted no nap--there was too much to see; and it did not seem to be long before the order was given to yoke the oxen and saddle up. _

Read next: Chapter 9. Nic's Experiences

Read previous: Chapter 7. Preparing To Start

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