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First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 22. A Woolly Patient And A Scare |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. A WOOLLY PATIENT AND A SCARE The man had approached over the soft moss unheard, though Nic had had warning of his coming from the cockatoos, which had shrieked out their alarm notes as he came down from among the sheep. "Why, Leather, I did not hear you coming," said Nic, half annoyed by the interruption. "I suppose not, sir. You were too intent. Don't they bite?" "No, not a bit," said Nic gruffly; and to himself, "I wish he'd go." "What are you fishing with, sir?" "Worms." "They will only take worms after a flood, when the water's thick." Then without a word the man walked away, and Nic drew his line sharply from the water. "Might have told me what bait they would take," muttered the boy. "Perhaps he doesn't know. Wish I had brought some paste. I don't care; that's good enough bait for anything. Now, here, some of you--bite." But they did not, and Nic sat upon a great stone, feeling rather ill-used. He was glad the convict had gone, and at the same time sorry. "I suppose I answered him very gruffly, and that sent him off," thought Nic. "Now, sir. I've caught a few of these." Nic jumped again, for once more the man had approached in silence. "Eh! what have you got?" "Locusts, or grasshoppers, sir. Have you a nice-sized new hook?" "Oh yes, plenty," cried Nic eagerly, opening a flat box from which the man took one he thought suitable. The next minute the hook bearing the great worm had been removed and one good-sized shot only left on the line. "Now,--sir," said Leather, "these grasshoppers are tender, so drop the bait gently on the surface, right over yonder where the stream comes round that end of the tree root.--Well done. Couldn't be better. Now be on the look-out, sir." The running water carried the great insect several feet into the still water before the weight of the shot began to act. Then very slowly it was drawn down beneath the surface, and they saw it descend and disappear in the obscurity, the line being slowly drawn after it. "They won't take that ugly, crooked-legged thing," said Nic. "Why, it would choke any fish that ever breathed." "Watch," said Leather quietly. "It takes some time to sink, for you have only one shot on; but it looks more natural, and it has not yet reached the fish. I think I'd draw in my slack line now, sir, and be ready to strike gently." "No good," said Nic, who, however, took the advice. "If you do hook one, don't let it run in among the old tree trunks, sir. If you do, the fish is lost. Directly you feel one, strike and lead it to the other end of the pool, and get it out in the shallows, where I can land it for you." "Handle it carefully, Leather," said Nic, with a grim smile. "You see your grasshoppers are no better than my worms. These fish don't understand biting." "No, sir, or they wouldn't have taken that locust. Steady, sir, steady. That's a heavy one. Well done; you'll master it. Your tackle's strong, and you must get it away from those roots and branches. That's the way. I'll go on and wait." For, quivering with excitement, his pliable rod bent into a bow, and the line running sharply here and there through the water, Nic was following a fish which had taken the bait with a rush deep down in the pool. A minute later he had it near the surface, and had drawn it into the stream which ran out of the deep hole, into the shallowest part of which the convict had waded, and as soon as line and current had brought it near enough, he gave one deft scoop with his joined hands and threw it out on to the bank. "I say! is it true?" cried Nic. "I can't hardly believe it." "It looks true enough, sir," replied the man. "Shall I take it off the hook?" "Oh yes, please," cried Nic excitedly. "You've got some more of those grasshoppers?" "Three, sir," said Leather, as he laid the fish at the boy's feet, "and I can soon get some more. You'll find these fish very good eating, but you must catch a dishful." "Why, Leather, you seem to know everything about the country." "I have had a long training, sir. You will know more than I do when you have been here two or three years. Now, then, throw in again." "Here, hi! Do you know one of them sheep's falled down into a hole? I'm sure master don't mean you to be wasting all your time out there, and idling about like a schoolboy." This was yelled hoarsely from some fifty yards away, and Nic saw that his companion started as if he had been stung. An angry speech was on Nic's lips at this interruption, but he checked it, for he knew that he had no right to keep the man from his work. "Coming directly," he said in loud tones. Then to. Leather: "Stop a minute while I catch another, and then you shall go. You must land it for me." Brookes was not kept long waiting, for another fish was hooked and landed in the same way; but before Leather had scooped it out Brookes was shouting again furiously. "Must go, sir," said the convict. "Stop and I'll come with you," cried Nic, laying down his rod as soon as the fish was unhooked, and he hurried with the man to where Brookes stood talking, though half he said was inaudible. "Here, Master Nic," he said, as they approached; "I dunno what your father'll say. Here's one of his best sheep o' that new breed down in a hole. You've no business to let that fellow leave his work." "Where is it?" said Leather anxiously. "Where is it? Where d'yer s'pose it is?" said Brookes fiercely. "Down in the narrer." "The sheep were all safe a few minutes ago," said Leather; and he ran off. "Oh, yes," said Brookes, in a sneering tone; "'course they were." "Is it badly hurt?" "Badly hurt? I s'pose so. It'll have to be killed." He trudged on, muttering surlily, and Nic followed up on to the level ground, where they could see the convict lowering himself down, only his head and shoulders being visible. The next minute they were standing at the edge of a narrow rift some six feet wide and as many deep--a rift that ran on down into the valley they had just quitted, and at the bottom of which lay a sheep bleating piteously as Leather bestrode its woolly carcass. "Why didn't you pull it out instead of coming sneaking after us?" cried Nic. "Eh? What?" cried Brookes, staring. "'Tain't my place to look after they sheep. Leatherhead was set to do it, and he goes on neglecting his work. Ah! here comes the master. Now we shall see." For the doctor was coming cantering toward them over the level ground from about a quarter of a mile away, and Nic felt vexed and in dread of what was to follow. "Is it hurt, Leather?" he said. "Yes, sir, badly--its leg's broken," replied the man; and bending down, he placed his arms round the poor animal, raised it up on to his shoulder, and began to climb with difficulty out of the rift. As he reached the edge he nearly slipped back. "Why don't you help?" cried Nic angrily; but Brookes did not stir; and if the boy had not darted forward and got a good pull of the wool, man and sheep would have toppled backward to the bottom. "Thank you, sir," said the convict. "There's no foothold, and I lost my balance. One moment. That's it;" and the sheep was rolled off his shoulder on to the grass. "What's the matter?" cried the doctor, cantering up, leaping down, and throwing the reins over his horse's head on to the grass, when the beautiful animal stood still. "One o' the best ewes down in that grip. I come and found it just now." "Yes, but you didn't try to get it out," said Nic. "It warn't in my charge," growled Brookes. "How was this, my man?" said the doctor. "You were set to look after them." "Yes, sir," said the convict respectfully. "The sheep were all right a quarter of an hour ago." "Yes, and they'd ha' been all right now if you'd looked arter them 'stead o' wasting your time fishing," growled Brookes. "I'm glad master's here to know." "Were you fishing, sir?" said the doctor sternly; but before Leather could answer Nic cried quickly: "No, father, he wasn't. He came down to the river to get me a few baits. I wanted him there. Why didn't Brookes help the sheep out?" "Because it was the other man's duty, sir," said the doctor quickly; and Leather gave the boy a sharp look, as much as to say, "Don't speak, sir; you'll make things worse." "Ah, you needn't signal the young master to take yer part," cried Brookes. "It's true enough; you ain't worth your salt on the station." "That will do, Brookes," said the doctor. "Oh, I don't want to say nothing, sir. I was only looking arter your property." "Tut, tut, tut!" cried the doctor, as he felt the sheep's leg. "One of my choicest ewes. The leg's broken. That active sheep couldn't have broken its leg through falling down there. It would have jumped it like a goat. Why, Leather, the poor brute has been savagely kicked." "It looks like it, sir," said the convict quietly. "Why, so it do," chimed in Brookes, as he bent over the helpless sheep. "Do you know anything of it, sir?" cried the doctor, eyeing the convict keenly. The man shook his head. "It's very strange," said the doctor, looking at Brookes, who took off his hat, scratched his head, and looked round at the convict, while Nic glanced at Brookes's boots and then at the poor sandal-like shoes the convict wore, which were evidently a piece of his own work. "Like me to kill the poor thing out of its misery, sir," said Brookes, "and take off its skin?" "No," said the doctor shortly. "Won't be nothin' the matter with the meat, sir." "Nic," said his father, "jump on the horse and ride home. Ask your mother to give you a roll of bandage, and bring it back here." "Yes, father." "Why, you ain't going to bind that 'ere leg up, are ver?" said Brookes. "Will you be good enough not to interrupt?" said the doctor. "Here, hi, Nic, my boy. Tell Samson to give you a sack and an axe. You can throw the sack across the horse." "Yes, father," cried the boy; and he cantered off, obtained the bandage and sack, and was back in less than an hour, to find that Leather had, under the doctor's directions, cut some pieces of wood from a tree, and with these for splints the doctor cleverly bandaged the broken leg. "There, Nic," he said, "I should not do that in a regular way, but this is a very valuable sheep, brought out to me by one of the last ships. Now one of you cut a good stout pole, say twelve feet long." Brookes looked at Leather, who caught up the axe and ran off. While he was gone the doctor opened a part of the bottom of the sack, and cut four slits in the side; and this being done, Nic looked on in surprise while the sack was drawn over the struggling sheep's head, its head pulled out of the bottom, and the legs put through the four slits. "Now gather the sack together so that the poor brute cannot struggle out, Brookes," said the doctor; and this was easily effected, as the animal was upon its side. Then the doctor made holes and laced up the mouth of the sack securely, all but a few inches; and by this time Leather was back with a stout, neatly trimmed pole. "Do you see what I mean?" said the doctor. "Yes, sir," replied the convict, and he slipped the pole through the sack above the sheep's back, leaving about four feet out at each end. "Now, Brookes, take the other end," said the doctor; "lift together, and get the pole on your shoulders, both of you." "What, and carry that lame sheep home?" said Brookes. "Yes; and its legs must not touch the ground." "But hadn't you better let us chuck it across the back of the horse?" "No. Now, together. Lift," cried the doctor; and as this was done the sheep gave a dismal bleat, and hung from the pole, with its head and legs out,--a ridiculous-looking object, which made Nic smile, but Brookes's face made the smile expand, so soured and puckered did it become, for the sheep was heavy, the farm buildings were some distance away, and the sun was coming down hot as the two men strode away, Leather looking heavy and stern, but apparently ready to undertake any amount of work. "You can ride, Nic," said the doctor, as the boy fetched up the horse. "But my fishing-rod and line, father?" "Where are they?" "Down yonder, by one of the pools." "Oh, then you must go that way home." "Yes, father, and I have two fish." "Well done." "I say, father, I feel sure that Leather did not kick that sheep." "Who did then?" said the doctor. "I don't like to say, father." "That is suggesting your belief that it was Brookes, a man whom I have always found to work well in my interests, Nic. He has no spite against me." "Do you think the other man has?" "I don't know, boy. There, go on your way, and I'll go home. One word, Nic. I want you to enjoy yourself, but I cannot have my men taken away from their work, mind that." The doctor cantered after the men bearing the sheep, and as Nic stood for a few minutes watching them, he heard the sheep give a piteous baa, as if protesting against its treatment, after which the men halted and changed shoulders. Nic was too far off to see the expression of the men's faces, but he felt pretty certain that Brookes's was anything but pleasant, and he felt glad. "I believe he did that out of spite against Leather," thought Nic, "so as to make it seem as if it was through neglect. I don't know, though, a man could hardly be such a brute." Nic descended into the little valley once more, and made his way along by the stream to the pool where he had left his rod. "There's one more locust," he said to himself; "and I'll try and catch another fish. Three will make a much better show. I dare say one would bite directly;" and determined to spend a few minutes in adding to his brace, he hurried on, thinking how beautiful the great, dense clump of trees on the other side of the stream appeared, many of them drooping gracefully over the water. "The beauty of a place like this is," he thought, "that you can leave things about and there is no one to take them." He smiled as he picked up his rod, drew the line through his fingers, and baited the hook with the great insect ready to cast right over into the stream so that the locust might be washed naturally into the sunlit pool. "Now, if I can catch another as big as the--Hullo! where are those fish?" Nic did not cast the locust, but stared hard at the spot where the fish had been laid down upon some fern leaves; but though the latter were still glistening with slime, the prizes were gone. "They must have flopped their way back into the water," said Nic to himself; "they went that way because it was all on a slope. Well, of all the tiresome nuisances I ever knew, this is about the worst. I wouldn't have lost those fish for anything. They must have flopped to and fro down here and over that soft place." Nic's thoughts stood still. The soft place he alluded to was close down to the shallow where Leather had waded in, and the water which had dripped from his legs lay upon the herbage and soft, dank, moist earth; but there was something else--footprints! Not Leather's, made by broad shoe-soles, but newly impressed marks with wide-spreading toes, the big toe in each case being rather thumb-like in its separation from the others. For some two or three minutes Nic did not stir, but bent down staring at those footprints. Then he glanced sharply over the shallows at the thick foliage, fully expecting to see a spear come flying at him. "That's the way my fish went," he muttered as he turned and fled, feeling a sudden check the next minute, as if some one had seized the rod which hung over his shoulder, and a thrill of fear ran through him as he turned sharply round, when snap went the line, and he saw that the hook and locust were sticking in an overhanging bough, and about a yard of the line was hanging down. That was enough to drive away some of his fear, but not all. "One can't fight blacks with fishing-rods," muttered the boy as he again began to run, and he made his way homeward more quickly than he had come, and did not pause once to look back, though if he had it was doubtful whether he would have seen the cunning black face peering from out of the wattle scrub, watching him as he ran in and out through the trees, and then disappearing as soon as Nic was out of sight. The fugitive did not pause till he reached home bathed in perspiration, just as his father rode slowly in side by side with the laden men, they having taken a shorter cut while he had followed the wanderings of the stream. "Ah, Nic," cried his father, "you shouldn't run and overheat yourself like that, boy. Now, men, carry the poor beast into the stable and rest the pole on the rails; its hoofs will then be about five inches from the ground.--What?" "Blackfellows, father," said Nic, as soon as he could get his breath; "I saw their footmarks, and they have carried off my fish." _ |
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