A Bush Dance

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Title:     A Bush Dance
Author: Henry Lawson [More Titles by Lawson]

'Tap, tap, tap, tap.'

The little schoolhouse and residence in the scrub was lighted brightly in the midst of the 'close', solid blackness of that moonless December night, when the sky and stars were smothered and suffocated by drought haze.

It was the evening of the school children's 'Feast'. That is to say that the children had been sent, and 'let go', and the younger ones 'fetched' through the blazing heat to the school, one day early in the holidays, and raced--sometimes in couples tied together by the legs--and caked, and bunned, and finally improved upon by the local Chadband, and got rid of. The schoolroom had been cleared for dancing, the maps rolled and tied, the desks and blackboards stacked against the wall outside. Tea was over, and the trestles and boards, whereon had been spread better things than had been provided for the unfortunate youngsters, had been taken outside to keep the desks and blackboards company.

On stools running end to end along one side of the room sat about twenty more or less blooming country girls of from fifteen to twenty odd.

On the rest of the stools, running end to end along the other wall, sat about twenty more or less blooming chaps.

It was evident that something was seriously wrong. None of the girls spoke above a hushed whisper. None of the men spoke above a hushed oath. Now and again two or three sidled out, and if you had followed them you would have found that they went outside to listen hard into the darkness and to swear.

'Tap, tap, tap.'

The rows moved uneasily, and some of the girls turned pale faces nervously towards the side-door, in the direction of the sound.

'Tap--tap.'

The tapping came from the kitchen at the rear of the teacher's residence, and was uncomfortably suggestive of a coffin being made: it was also accompanied by a sickly, indescribable odour--more like that of warm cheap glue than anything else.

In the schoolroom was a painful scene of strained listening. Whenever one of the men returned from outside, or put his head in at the door, all eyes were fastened on him in the flash of a single eye, and then withdrawn hopelessly. At the sound of a horse's step all eyes and ears were on the door, till some one muttered, 'It's only the horses in the paddock.'

Some of the girls' eyes began to glisten suspiciously, and at last the belle of the party--a great, dark-haired, pink-and-white Blue Mountain girl, who had been sitting for a full minute staring before her, with blue eyes unnaturally bright, suddenly covered her face with her hands, rose, and started blindly from the room, from which she was steered in a hurry by two sympathetic and rather 'upset' girl friends, and as she passed out she was heard sobbing hysterically--

'Oh, I can't help it! I did want to dance! It's a sh-shame! I can't help it! I--I want to dance! I rode twenty miles to dance--and--and I want to dance!'

A tall, strapping young Bushman rose, without disguise, and followed the girl out. The rest began to talk loudly of stock, dogs, and horses, and other Bush things; but above their voices rang out that of the girl from the outside--being man comforted--

'I can't help it, Jack! I did want to dance! I--I had such--such--a job--to get mother--and--and father to let me come--and--and now!'

The two girl friends came back. 'He sez to leave her to him,' they whispered, in reply to an interrogatory glance from the schoolmistress.

'It's--it's no use, Jack!' came the voice of grief. 'You don't know what--what father and mother--is. I--I won't--be able--to ge-get away--again--for--for--not till I'm married, perhaps.'

The schoolmistress glanced uneasily along the row of girls. 'I'll take her into my room and make her lie down,' she whispered to her sister, who was staying with her. 'She'll start some of the other girls presently--it's just the weather for it,' and she passed out quietly. That schoolmistress was a woman of penetration.

A final 'tap-tap' from the kitchen; then a sound like the squawk of a hurt or frightened child, and the faces in the room turned quickly in that direction and brightened. But there came a bang and a sound like 'damn!' and hopelessness settled down.

A shout from the outer darkness, and most of the men and some of the girls rose and hurried out. Fragments of conversation heard in the darkness--

'It's two horses, I tell you!'

'It's three, you----!'

'Lay you----!'

'Put the stuff up!'

A clack of gate thrown open.

'Who is it, Tom?'

Voices from gatewards, yelling, 'Johnny Mears! They've got Johnny Mears!'

Then rose yells, and a cheer such as is seldom heard in scrub-lands.

Out in the kitchen long Dave Regan grabbed, from the far side of the table, where he had thrown it, a burst and battered concertina, which he had been for the last hour vainly trying to patch and make air-tight; and, holding it out towards the back-door, between his palms, as a football is held, he let it drop, and fetched it neatly on the toe of his riding-boot. It was a beautiful kick, the concertina shot out into the blackness, from which was projected, in return, first a short, sudden howl, then a face with one eye glaring and the other covered by an enormous brick-coloured hand, and a voice that wanted to know who shot 'that lurid loaf of bread?'

But from the schoolroom was heard the loud, free voice of Joe Matthews, M.C.,--

'Take yer partners! Hurry up! Take yer partners! They've got Johnny Mears with his fiddle!'

 

[THE END]

 

An incomplete glossary of Australian, British, or antique terms and concepts which may prove helpful to understanding this book:

"A house where they took in cards on a tray" (from Joe Wilson's Courtship): An upper class house, with servants who would take a visitor's card (on a tray) to announce their presence, or, if the family was out, to keep a record of the visit.

Anniversary Day: Mentioned in the text, is now known as Australia Day. It commemorates the establishment of the first English settlement in Australia, at Port Jackson (Sydney Harbour), on 26 January 1788.

Gin: An obvious abbreviation of "aborigine", it only refers to *female* aborigines, and is now considered derogatory. It was not considered derogatory at the time Lawson wrote.

Jackaroo: At the time Lawson wrote, a Jackaroo was a "new chum" or newcomer to Australia, who sought work on a station to gain experience. The term now applies to any young man working as a station hand. A female station hand is a Jillaroo. Variant: Jackeroo.

Old-fashioned child: A child that acts old for their age. Americans would say 'Precocious'.

'Possum: In Australia, a class of marsupials that were originally mistaken for possums. They are not especially related to the possums of North and South America, other than both being marsupials.

Public/Pub.: The traditional pub. in Australia was a hotel with a "public" bar--hence the name. The modern pub has often (not always) dispensed with the lodging, and concentrated on the bar.

Tea: In addition to the regular meaning, Tea can also mean a light snack or a meal (i.e., where Tea is served). In particular, Morning Tea (about 10 AM) and Afternoon Tea (about 3 PM) are nothing more than a snack, but Evening Tea (about 6 PM) is a meal. When just "Tea" is used, it usually means the evening meal. Variant: Tea-time.

Tucker: Food.

Shout: In addition to the regular meaning, it also refers to buying drinks for all the members of a group, etc. The use of this term can be confusing, so the first instance is footnoted in the text.

Sly-grog-shop: An unlicensed bar or liquor-store.

Station: A farm or ranch, especially one devoted to cattle or sheep.

Store Bullock: Lawson makes several references to these. A bullock is a castrated bull. Bullocks were used in Australia for work that was too heavy for horses. 'Store' may refer to those cattle, and their descendants, brought to Australia by the British government, and sold to settlers from the 'Store'--hence, the standard draft animal.

Also: a hint with the seasons--remember that the seasons are reversed from those in the northern hemisphere, hence June may be hot, but December is even hotter. Australia is at a lower latitude than the United States, so the winters are not harsh by US standards, and are not even mild in the north. In fact, large parts of Australia are governed more by "dry" versus "wet" than by Spring-Summer-Fall-Winter.

--A. L.

[The end]
Henry Lawson's short story: Bush Dance

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