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First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 39. A Double Surprise

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_ CHAPTER THIRTY NINE. A DOUBLE SURPRISE

"'Nother sheep gone, Master Nic," said Brookes next morning.

"Then we'll have the dogs out and have a hunt round. Whose flock was it among?"

"Bung's."

"All right, then; we'll have a turn at once."

Old Sam was told of what was to take place, Damper and Rigar were fetched from their charges, and gladly joined in, while the dogs nearly went mad--all three seeming to fully understand what was going to take place, and displaying their mad delight by charging and rolling one another over, and a sham worry all round, that suggested horrors for any unfortunate dingo with which they were not at play.

As Nic rode on between his two men, with the dogs and blacks in front, he began to feel a little suspicious of the latter, from the way in which they talked and laughed one to the other, as if they enjoyed the loss of a sheep as a very good joke; and the boy could not help asking himself whether they were taking advantage of his inexperience to help themselves to the wherewithal for an occasional feast.

This impressed him so much at last that he mentioned his suspicions to old Sam.

But the man shook his head.

"No, sir; I think not," he replied. "We look too sharp after 'em, and they're too well fed. I won't say what a hungry blackfellow mightn't do, but our boys ain't hungry, and that makes all the difference. What do you say, Brooky?"

"I say it ain't the blacks; but I know."

As the man spoke he examined the pan of his gun, and then took out his knife and began to chip the flint, so that it might be certain to strike out sparks.

"What do you know?" said Nic, looking at the man wonderingly.

"What do I know?" said Brookes, giving him a defiant look: "why, I know it's that there Leather as is skulking about like a rat, and snatching a sheep whenever he likes."

"Absurd!" cried Nic indignantly.

"Oh, all right, sir, it's 'surd, then; you know best, o' course. You're master, and I'm on'y a servant; but I say as that there Leather killed all them sheep, and if the doctor was at home he'd soon stop that."

"Go on, dogs!" shouted Nic, riding forward to hide his annoyance and fidgety looks, for Brookes had looked at him in a way which troubled him.

The blacks led on among the trees and over the pastures, now nearly brown for want of rain; and to Nic's annoyance the men made for the stretch of country which ran along by the side of the gorge. Then suddenly one of the collies uttered a sharp bark, which was taken up by the other, Nibbler gave forth his deep growl, and as they started off on the scent of something, he followed, and the blacks trotted close behind.

Nic felt a peculiar, sense of hesitation; but his two men started in a run, and he felt that he must go too, though this part of the country seemed to him the least likely for dingoes, and he began to wonder whether the dogs had taken up the scent of a man who had passed that way, and if so, would it be the convict?

Ten minutes later he felt ready to stop the hunt, for the dogs were right on the line he would have himself taken to reach the spring which ran down to the tunnel-like cavern. Certainly it was miles away, but, going at a pretty good speed, Nic felt that the dogs would quickly reduce the distance, and his horror increased.

"They'll soon have him, Master Nic," panted old Sam, who ran, in spite of his years, better than his companion, the blacks being now out of sight.

"Have whom?" cried Nic; but he repented directly, for Brookes turned and gave him another curious look.

"Why, that there dingo, sir," said Sam.

"_Cooey_--_cooey_!" came from a distance, as the faint barking of the dogs ceased; and Nic pressed forward, to arrive, in a quarter of a mile or so, at a dense thicket, within which he could see the blacks and hear the dogs whining and snuffling about.

"Got him?" cried Nic, with an intense feeling of relief.

"Mine help dog follow find him," cried Bungarolo with a broad grin; and the boy urged his horse in through the bushes, to find a skin tossed down, and plenty of evidence of a sheep having been lately killed there.

He was staring down at the remains, while the dogs stood whining and snuffling round, eager to make a feast of the offal, but kept back by the blacks, who each held a nulla-nulla with its melon-shaped knob in front of their noses.

"He! he!" laughed Brookes. "That's a clever sort o' dingo, Sam. I never see one skin his sheep before and dress him."

Old Sam rubbed one side of his nose and looked at Nic, who turned sharply to the blacks.

"Here, you!" he cried angrily--"you killed this sheep!"

"Baal! Baal!" they cried in angry chorus. "No kill--no mumkull sheep fellow. Plenty mutton--plenty. White Mary gib plenty mutton. You pidney (know)."

"No, I want to pidney," cried Nic. "Here, Bung, who killed the sheep, then?"

"No pidney. Soon find."

The man, imitated by his fellows, began to search about, and soon took up a barefoot trail and pointed to a drop of blood now and then where it lay dried upon a leaf.

"Could Leather have killed a sheep and taken it away?" thought Nic. "No--impossible!" and he was following the blacks in a hesitating spirit, when Brookes stopped short.

"What is it?" cried old Sam, imitating his action.

"I ain't going to walk into no hambudges," growled Brookes.

This roused Nic into action.

"Here!--Hi! Bung, all of you stop!" he cried, and the blacks paused and waited till they came up, looking at their young master inquiringly.

"Find tracks?" asked Nic.

"Plenty mine find mandowie."

"Black fellow's?" cried Nic.

"Baal! Baal! white fellow!" cried all three--"white fellow."

Brookes gave a ghastly grin and cocked his gun.

"I ain't going no farther," he growled. "It's walking into a hambudge. Black fellows don't kill sheep like that."

"No plenty mumkull sheep," cried Damper. "White fellow."

"P'r'aps we'd better not go on, sir," whispered old Sam uneasily.

Nic said nothing, but rode slowly back to where the remains of the sheep had been discovered, followed by the rest, the blacks chattering together in a great state of excitement, and the dogs whining and uneasy.

"Pick up the skin, Sam," said Nic; and the old man made one of the blacks carry it shouldered over his spear.

Nothing more was said, Nic riding along feeling sadly puzzled, and trying to follow out a peculiar line of thought without success. It had something to do with an idea about, spite, and whether it was possible that Brookes had killed these sheep on purpose to make it seem that Leather was lurking about destroying his late employer's property, so that, when once this idea took deep root, another expedition might be planned for the purpose of hunting the convict down, and relieving him of an object which caused him constant dread.

But Nic gave Brookes the benefit of a doubt, and rode silently on till he was in sight of the house, when he suddenly pressed his horse's sides and galloped forward.

For he had caught sight of a light waggon drawn up in front; there were horses and men about, and he felt that something important had taken place in his absence.

Ten minutes later he was grasping his father's hands, and then those of the governor, who looked very pale and thin. Lastly those of Lady O'Hara, who held his tightly.

"Oh! just look at him," she cried; "why, he's brown as chestnuts and getting as big as a man. Sure, and what do ye water him with, Mrs Braydon, to make him grow like that?"

"Yes, he has grown," said Nic's mother, smiling with pride.

"Grown! why, he's shot up like a palm tree. Nic, boy, we've come up with your father for me husband to get quite cured: will you have us for a bit?"

Nic's eyes silently gave their answer as he clung to lady O'Hara's hand, just as he did that day when she came to the Friary to fetch him from school, not so very long back; but so many events had happened since, that it seemed an age to the boy, who felt how different he was since then.

"You don't deserve for us to come, Mrs Braydon," said Lady O'Hara as they sat over their homely meal that evening, "for you never come to stay with me, nor the girls neither."

"You see what a simple farmhouse life we lead," said Mrs Braydon, smiling. "We are not fit for Government House."

"Now just hark at her, John!" cried the lady. "Do we want her to come and see Government House? It's to see us."

"Mrs Braydon knows that," said Sir John gravely, "and how deeply we are in her debt. Here we are, after robbing her of her natural protector all this time, come to trouble her more."

"Then let's go back, John," said Lady O'Hara dilly; "sure we're not welcome. We're too foine for her."

"Lady O'Hara!" cried Mrs Braydon indignantly.

"That's brought her to her senses," said the visitor, rising and going to Mrs Braydon to kiss her affectionately. "Don't you know that you're all the dearest and best friends we've got in the world? Hasn't the doctor been sitting up with John night after night, and saved his life?"

"Oh, nonsense! nonsense!" said the doctor quickly.

"It's quite true, Mrs Braydon," said the governor warmly; "and God bless him for it!"

"There!" cried Lady O'Hara, "now let's all be comfortable. Why, it's like being at home, at the old place from which John fetched me when he was only Lieutenant O'Hara, and hadn't a grand handle to his name. Gyurls, I'm going to enjoy myself with you while the governor gets strong and well. Sure I can make butter as well as either of you. Didn't we have two Kerry cows at home? As for bread, there I'll bate-- beat I mean--either of you. Nic, boy, you'll take me round with you when you go to see to the stock; only I must have a quiet ould mare-- none of your great tatthering savage craytures that want to go like the wind. I've brought my strong riding habit. And you gyurls, you'll ride too?"

"Of course," cried Janet eagerly.

"Then we're going to have quite a happy time; and John'll get quite strong, won't he, doctor?"

"Yes, he'll be a new man in a month."

"What!" cried the lady, with an assumed look of alarm: "John, darlin', order the waggon and horses out. Ring for the men. We'll go back home directly, and try the new doctor that's just come out."

"Why?" said Sir John, smiling.

"Sure, didn't he say he'd make a new man of you? Don't I want you the same as you always were? A new man, indeed!"

A merry evening was passed, but before they parted for the night the doctor said:

"I've asked no questions, Nic, boy; but all seems to be right."

"Nearly, father--not quite."

"Not quite? Well, that doesn't sound very serious. But I want to know fully what this upset has been about the assigned servant."

Nic briefly told of the trouble.

"Ah, well, we'll have that over in the morning, Nic. I'm sorry, though, for I thought the man was trustworthy."

Nic gave his father a pained look, as the doctor went on: "I shall ride over and see Dillon. Well, what next?"

"Three sheep have gone, father, one after the other."

"I am not surprised," said the doctor drily.

"But, father--" began Nic.

"Not to-night, my boy. I know what you are going to say. This man was rather a favourite of yours. Now, what other troubles?"

"None, father."

"That's good. Then you've done well, boy. But I was very anxious to get back, for there has been a serious rising among the convicts, and two parties have escaped to the bush. I was afraid you might be having a visitation."

"They're taken by this time, Braydon, depend upon it," said Sir John. "My people will not rest till they are. There, I'm tired out. You'll excuse me to-night?"

"I beg your pardon, O'Hara," said the doctor. "Yes, bed for us too. Good night, Nic. To-morrow you will have to render me an account of your stewardship."

Nic sought his bed that night with mingled feelings of pleasure and pain.

It was delightful to feel the warm grip of his father's hand again, and to see Lady O'Hara's merry, cheery face; but, on the other hand, after being captain of the station so long, there was a slight suspicion of regret at having to give up his independent position; and then there was the trouble about the convict. His father said he would go and see Mr Dillon, and there was what the magistrate would say about him. Then his conscience smote him for that which was a lapse of duty. He had made so great an intimate of Leather, and he felt as if he had been helping him to defy the law. Sir John O'Hara was sleeping under their roof now, and he was governor, judge--a regular viceroy in the colony. What would he say?

Above all, what would the doctor do?

It was a long time before Nic could settle off to sleep that night, and in consequence he was very late the next morning. _

Read next: Chapter 40. The Doctor Plays Magistrate

Read previous: Chapter 38. Nature At Home

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