CHAPTER IX. FISHING
The party had for some time been walking near the creek, so close to itthat it was within sound, although they seldom got a glimpse of water,save where the ti-tree scrub on the bank grew thinner or the light windstirred an opening in its branches. Now, however, the Hermit suddenlyturned, and although the others failed to perceive any track orlandmark, he led them quickly through the scrub belt to the bank of thecreek beyond.
It was indeed an ideal place for fishing. A deep, quiet pool, partlyshaded by big trees, lay placid and motionless, except for an occasionalripple, stirred by a light puff of wind. An old wattle tree grew on thebank, its limbs jutting out conveniently, and here Jim and Wallyensconced themselves immediately, and turned their united attention tobusiness. For a time no sound was heard save the dull "plunk" of sinkersas the lines, one by one, were flung into the water.
The Hermit did not fish. He had plenty at his camp, he said, and fishingfor fun had lost its excitement, since he fished for a living most daysof the week. So he contented himself with advising the others where tothrow in, and finally sat down on the grass near Norah.
A few minutes passed. Then Jim jerked his line hurriedly and began topull in with a feverish expression. It lasted until a big black fishmade its appearance, dangling from the hook, and then it was suddenlysucceeded by a look of intense disgust, as a final wriggle released theprisoner, which fell back with a splash into the water.
"Well, I'm blessed!" said Jim wrathfully.
"Hard luck!" said Harry.
"Try again, Jimmy, and stick to him this time," counselled Wally, in afatherly tone.
"Oh, you shut up," Jim answered, re-baiting his hook. "I didn't catch anold boot, anyhow!"--which pertinent reflection had the effect ofsilencing Wally, amidst mild mirth on the part of the other members ofthe expedition.
Scarcely a minute more, and Norah pulled sharply at her line and beganto haul in rapidly.
"Got a whale?" inquired Jim.
"Something like it!" Norah pulled wildly.
"Hang on!"
"Stick to him!"
"Mind your eye!"
"Don't get your line tangled!"
"Want any help, Miss Norah?"
"No thanks." Norah was almost breathless. A red spot flamed in eachcheek.
Slowly the line came in. Presently it gave a sudden jerk, and was tuggedback quickly, as the fish made another run for liberty. Norah uttered anexclamation, quickly suppressed, and caught it sharply, pullingstrongly.
Ah--he was out! A big, handsome perch, struggling and dancing in the airat the end of the line. Shouts broke from the boys as Norah landed herprize safely on the bank.
"Well done, Miss Norah," said the Hermit warmly.
"That's a beauty--as fine a perch as I've seen in this creek."
"Oh, isn't he a splendid fellow!" Norah cried, surveying the prey withdancing eyes. "I'll have him for Dad, anyhow, even if I don't catchanother."
"Yes, Dad's breakfast's all right," laughed the Hermit. "But don'tworry, you'll catch more yet. See, there goes Harry."
There was a shout as Harry, with a scientific flourish of his rod,hauled a small blackfish from its watery bed.
"Not bad for a beginning!" he said, grinning. "But not a patch on yours,Norah!"
"Oh, I had luck," Norah said. "He really is a beauty, isn't he? I thinkhe must be the grandfather of all the perches."
"If that's so," said Jim, beginning to pull in, with an expression of"do or die" earnestness, "I reckon I've got the grandmother on now!"
A storm of advice hurtled about Jim as he tugged at his line.
"Hurry up, Jim!"
"Go slow!"
"There--he's getting off again!"
"So are you!" said the ungrateful recipient of the counsel, puffinghard.
"Only a boot, Jim--don't worry!"
"Gammon!--it's a shark!--look at his worried expression!"
"I'll 'shark' you, young Harry!" grunted Jim. "Mind your eye--there hecomes!" And expressions of admiration broke from the scoffers as asecond splendid perch dangled in the air and was landed high and dry--orcomparatively so--in the branches of the wattle tree.
"Is he as big as yours, Norah?" queried Jim a minute later, tossing hisfish down on the grass close to his sister and the Hermit.
Norah laid the two fishes alongside.
"Not quite," she announced; "mine's about an inch longer, and a bitfatter."
"Well, that's all right," Jim said. "I said it was the grandmother Ihad--yours is certainly the grandfather! I'm glad you got the biggest,old girl." They exchanged a friendly smile.
A yell from Wally intimated that he had something on his hook, and withimmense pride he flourished in the air a diminutive blackfish--so smallthat the Hermit proposed to use it for bait, a suggestion promptlydeclined by the captor, who hid his catch securely in the fork of twobranches, before re-baiting his hook. Then Harry pulled out a fineperch, and immediately afterwards Norah caught a blackfish; and afterthat the fun waxed fast and furious, the fish biting splendidly, and allhands being kept busy. An hour later Harry shook the last worm out ofthe bait tin and dropped it into the water on his hook, where itimmediately was seized by a perch of very tender years.
"Get back and grow till next year," advised Harry, detaching the littleprisoner carefully, the hook having caught lightly in the side of itsmouth. "I'll come for you next holidays!" and he tossed the tiny fellowback into the water. "That's our last scrap of bait, you chaps," hesaid, beginning to wind up his line.
"I've been fishing with an empty hook for I don't know how long," saidJim, hauling up also. "These beggars have nibbled my bait off andcarefully dodged the hook."
"Well, we've plenty, haven't we?" Norah said. "Just look what a splendidpile of fish!"
"They take a bit of beating, don't they?" said Jim. "That's right, Wal,pull him up!" as Wally hauled in another fine fish. "We couldn't carrymore if we had 'em."
"Then it's a good thing my bait's gone, too!" laughed Norah, winding up."Haven't we had a most lovely time!"
Jim produced a roll of canvas which turned out to be two sugar bags, andin these carefully bestowed the fish, sousing the whole thoroughly inthe water. The boys gathered up the lines and tackle and "planted" therods conveniently behind a log, "to be ready for next time," they said.
"Well, we've had splendid sport, thanks to you, sir," Jim said, turningto the Hermit, who stood looking on at the preparations, a benevolentperson, "something between Father Christmas and Robinson Crusoe," asNorah whispered to Harry. "We certainly wouldn't have got on half aswell if we'd stayed where we were."
"Oh, I don't know," the Hermit answered. "Yours is a good place--I'veoften caught plenty of fish there--only not to be relied on as this poolis. I've really never known this particular spot fail--the fish seem tolive in it all the year round. However, I'm glad you've had decentluck--it's not a bit jolly to go home empty-handed, I know. And now,what's the next thing to be done? The afternoon's getting on--don't youthink it's time you came to pay me a visit at the camp?"
"Oh, yes, please!" Norah cried.
Jim hesitated.
"We'd like awfully to see your camp, if--if it's not any bother to you,"he said.
"Not the least in the world," the Hermit said. "Only I can't offer youany refreshment. I've nothing but cold 'possum and tea, and the'possum's an acquired taste, I'm afraid. I've no milk for the tea, andno damper, either!"
"By George!" said Jim remorsefully. "Why, we ate all your damper atlunch!"
"I can easily manufacture another," the Hermit said, laughing. "I'mused to the process. Only I don't suppose I could get it done soonenough for afternoon tea."
"We've loads of tucker," Jim said. "Far more than we're likely to eat.Milk, too. We meant to boil the billy again before we start for home."
"I'll tell you what," Norah said, struck by a brilliant idea. "Let'scoo-ee for Billy, and when he comes send him back for our things. Thenif--if Mr. Hermit likes, we could have tea at his ca
mp."
"Why, that's a splendid notion," the Hermit cried. "I'm delighted thatyou thought of it, Miss Norah, although I'm sorry my guests have tosupply their own meal! It doesn't seem quite the thing--but in the bush,polite customs have to fall into disuse. I only keep up my own goodmanners by practising on old Turpentine, my snake! However, if you're sokind as to overlook my deficiencies, and make them up yourselves, by allmeans let us come along and coo-ee for sweet William!"
He shouldered one of the bags of fish as he spoke, disregarding aprotest from the boys. Jim took the second, and they set out for thecamp.
Their way led for some time along the track by which they had come, if"track" it might be called. Certainly, the Hermit trod it confidentlyenough, but the others could only follow in his wake, and wonder by whatprocess he found his way so quickly through the thick bush.
About half a mile along the creek the Hermit suddenly turned off almostat right angles, and struck into the scrub. The children followed himclosely, keeping as nearly at his heels as the nature of the path wouldpermit.
Norah found it not very pleasant. The Hermit went at a good rate,swinging over the rough ground with the sure-footed case of oneaccustomed to the scrub and familiar with the path. The boys unhamperedby skirts and long hair, found no great difficulty in keeping up withhim, but the small maiden of the party, handicapped by her clothes, tosay nothing of being youngest of them all, plodded along in the rear,catching on sarsaparilla vines and raspberry tangles, plunging headfirst through masses of dogwood, and getting decidedly the worst of thejourney.
Harry was the first to notice that Norah was falling "into thedistance," as he put it, and he ran back to her immediately.
"Poor old kid!" he said shamefacedly. "I'd no idea you were having sucha beast of a time. Sorry, Norah!" His polite regrets were cut short byNorah's catching her foot in a creeper and falling bodily upon him.
"Thank you," said Harry, catching her deftly. "Delighted, I'm sure,ma'am! It's a privilege to catch any one like you. Come on, old girl,and I'll clear the track for you."
A little farther on the Hermit had halted, looking a trifle guilty.
"I'm really sorry, Miss Norah," he said, as Norah and Harry made theirway up to the waiting group. "I didn't realise I was going at such apace. We'll make haste more slowly."
He led the way, pausing now and again to make it easier for the littlegirl, holding the bushes aside and lifting her bodily over several biglogs and sharp watercourses. Finally he stopped.
"I think if you give Billy a call now, Jim," he said, "he won't havemuch difficulty in finding us."
To the children it seemed an utter impossibility that Billy should everfind them, though they said nothing, and Jim obediently lifted up hisvoice and coo-ee'd in answer to the Hermit's words. For himself, Jim wasfree to confess he had quite lost his bearings, and the other boys wereas much at sea as if they had suddenly been dropped down at the NorthPole. Norah alone had an idea that they were not far from their originalcamping-place; an idea which was confirmed when a long "Ai-i-i!" came inresponse to Jim's shout, sounding startlingly near at hand.
"Master Billy has been making his way along the creek," commented theHermit. "He's no distance off. Give him another call."
"Here!" Jim shouted. Billy answered again, and after a few moreexchanges, the bushes parted and revealed the sable retainer, somewhatout of breath.
"Scoot back to camp, Billy," Jim ordered. "Take these fish and soak 'emin the creek, and bring back all our tucker--milk and all. Bringit--Where'll he bring it, sir?" to the Hermit.
"See that tall tree, broken with the bough dangling?" the Hermit asked,pointing some distance ahead. Billy nodded. "Come back to that andcooee, and we'll answer you."
"Plenty!" said Billy, shouldering the bags of fish, and departing at arun. Billy had learnt early the futility of wasting words.
"Come along," said the Hermit, laughing.
He turned off into the scrub, and led the way again, taking, it seemedto Norah, rather a roundabout path. At length he stopped short, near adense clump of dogwood.
"My back door," he said politely.
They stared about them. There was no sign of any door at all, nor evenof any footprints or marks of traffic. The scrub was all about them;everything was very still and quiet in the afternoon hush.
"Well, you've got us beaten and no mistake!" Jim laughed, after they hadpeered fruitlessly about. "Unless you camp in the air, I don't see--"
"Look here," said the Hermit.
He drew aside a clump of dogwood, and revealed the end of an old log--ahuge tree-trunk that had long ago been a forest monarch, but havingfallen, now stretched its mighty length more than a hundred feet alongthe ground. It was very broad and the uppermost side was flat, and hereand there bore traces of caked, dry mud that showed where a boot hadrested. The dogwood walled it closely on each side.
"That's my track home," the Hermit said. "Let me help you up, MissNorah."
He sprang up on the log as he spoke, and extended a hand to Norah, whofollowed him lightly. Then the Hermit led the way along the log, whichwas quite broad enough to admit of a wheelbarrow being drawn down itslength. He stopped where the butt of the old tree, rising above thelevel of the trunk, barred the view, and pulling aside the dogwood,showed rough steps, cut in the side of the log.
"Down here, Miss Norah."
In a moment they were all on the ground beside him--Wally, disdainingthe steps, having sprung down, and unexpectedly measured his length onthe earth, to the accompaniment of much chaff. He picked himself up,laughing more than any of them, just as Norah popped her head throughthe scrub that surrounded them, and exclaimed delightedly--.
"Why, here's the camp."
"I say," Jim said, following the Hermit into the little clearing,"you're well planted here!"
The space was not very large--a roughly circular piece of ground, ringedround with scrub, in which big gum trees reared their lofty heads. Awattle tree stood in the centre, from its boughs dangling a roughhammock, made of sacking, while a water bag hung from another convenientbranch. The Hermit's little tent was pitched at one side; across theclearing was the rude fireplace that Norah had seen in the morning.Everything, though tough enough, was very clean and tidy, with a certainattempt at comfort.
The Hermit laughed.
"Yes, I'm pretty well concealed," he agreed. "You might be quite closeto the camp and never dream that it existed. Only bold explorers likeMiss Norah would have hit upon it from the side where she appeared to methis morning, and my big log saves me the necessity of having a beatentrack home. I try, by getting on it at different points, to avoid atrack to the log, although, should a footmark lead anyone to it, theintruder would never take the trouble to walk down an old bushhungtree-trunk, apparently for no reason. So that I feel fairly secure aboutmy home and my belongings when I plan a fishing expedition or anexcursion that takes me any distance away."
"Well, it's a great idea," Jim said. "Of course, a beaten track to yourcamp would be nothing more or less than an invitation to any swaggie orblack fellow to follow it up."
"That's what I thought," the Hermit said; "and very awkward it wouldhave been for me, seeing that one can't very well put a padlock on atent, and that all my belongings are portable. Not that there's anythingof great value. I have a few papers I wouldn't care to lose, a watch anda little money--but they're all safely buried in a cashbox with a goodlock. The rest I have to chance, and, as I told you, I've so far beenpretty lucky in repelling invaders. There's not much traffic round here,you know!"
Jim and Norah laughed. "Not much," they said, nodding.
"My tent's not large," the Hermit said, leading the way to thaterection, which was securely and snugly pitched with its back door (hadthere been one) against the trunk of a huge dead tree. It was acomparatively new tent, with a good fly, and was watertight, its ownerexplained, in all weathers. The flap was elaborately secured by manystrings, tied with wonderful and fearful knots.
"It m
ust take you a long time to untie those chaps every day," saidWally.
"It would," said the Hermit, "if I did untie them. They're only part ofmy poor little scheme for discouraging intruders, Master Wally." Heslipped his fingers inside the flap and undid a hidden fastening, whichopened the tent without disarranging the array of intricate knots.
"A fellow without a knife might spend quite a while in untying allthose," said the Hermit. "He'd be rather disgusted, on completing thejob, to find they had no bearing on the real fastening of the tent. Andperhaps by that time I might be home!"
The interior of the tent was scrupulously tidy and very plain. A hastilyput up bunk was covered with blue blankets, and boasted a sackingpillow. From the ridge-pole hung a candlestick, roughly fashioned from aknot of wood, and the furniture was completed by a rustic table andchair, made from branches, and showing considerable ingenuity in theirfashioning. Wallaby skins thrown over the chair and upon the floor lenta look of comfort to the tiny dwelling; and a further touch ofhomeliness was given by many pictures cut from illustrated papers andfastened to the canvas walls. The fly of the tent projected somedistance in front, and formed a kind of verandah, beneath which a secondrustic seat stood, as well as a block of wood that bore a tin dish, andevidently did duty as a washstand. Several blackened billies hung aboutthe camp, with a frying-pan that bore marks of long and honourable use.
The children surveyed this unusual home with much curiosity andinterest, and the boys were loud in their praises of the chairs andtables. The Hermit listened to their outspoken comments with abenevolent look, evidently pleased with their approval, and soon Jim andhe were deep in a discussion of bush carpentry--Jim, as Wally said,reckoning himself something of an artist in that line, and being eagerfor hints. Meanwhile the other boys and Norah wandered about the camp,wondering at the completeness that had been arrived at with so littlematerial, and at its utter loneliness and isolation.
"A man might die here half a dozen times, and no one be any the wiser,"Wally said. "I wouldn't like it myself."
"Once would be enough for most chaps." Harry grinned.
"Oh, get out! you know what I mean," retorted Wally. "You chaps arenever satisfied unless you're pulling my leg--it's a wonder I don'tlimp! But seriously, what a jolly rum life for a man to choose."
"He's an educated chap, too," Harry said--"talks like a book when helikes. I wonder what on earth he's doing it for?"
They had dropped their voices instinctively, and had moved away from thetent.
"He's certainly not the ordinary swaggie," Norah said slowly.
"Not by a good bit," Wally agreed. "Why, he can talk like our Englishmaster at school! Perhaps he's hiding."
"Might be," Harry said. "You never can tell--he's certainly keen enoughon getting away from people."
"He's chosen a good place, then."
"Couldn't be better. I wonder if there's anything in it--if he reallyhas done anything and doesn't want to be found?"
"I never heard such bosh!" said Norah indignantly. "One would think hereally looked wicked, instead of being such a kind old chap. D'you thinkhe's gone and committed a murder, or robbed a bank, or something likethat? I wonder you're not afraid to be in his camp!"
The boys stared in amazement.
"Whew-w-w!" whistled Wally.
Harry flushed a little.
"Oh steady, Norah!" he protested--"we really didn't mean to hurt yourfeelings. It was only an idea. I'll admit be doesn't look a hardenedsinner."
"Well, you shouldn't have such ideas," Norah said stoutly; "he's a greatdeal too nice, and look how kind he's been to us! If he chooses to planthimself in the bush, it's no one's business but his own."
"I suppose not," Harry began. He pulled up shortly as the Hermit,followed by Jim, emerged from the tent.
The Hermit had a queer smile in his eyes, but Jim looked desperatelyuncomfortable.
Jim favoured the others with a heavy scowl as he came out of the tent,slipping behind the Hermit in order that he might deliver it unobserved.It was plain enough to fill them with considerable discomfort. Theyexchanged glances of bewilderment.
"I wonder what's up now?" Wally whispered.
Jim strolled over to them as the Hermit, without saying anything,crossed to his fireplace, and began to put some sticks together.
"You're bright objects!" he whispered wrathfully. "Why can't you speaksoftly if you must go gabbling about other people?"
"You don't mean to say he heard us?" Harry said, colouring.
"I do, then! We could hear every word you said, and it was jolly awkwardfor me. I didn't know which way to look."
"Was he wild?" whispered Wally.
"Blessed if I know. He just laughed in a queer way, until Norah stuck upfor him, and then he looked grave. 'I'm lucky to have one friend,' hesaid, and walked out of the tent. You're a set of goats!" finished Jimcomprehensively.
"Well, I'm not ashamed of what I said, anyhow!" Norah answeredindignantly. She elevated her tip-tilted nose, and walked away to wherethe Hermit was gathering sticks, into which occupation she promptlyentered. The boys looked at each other.
"Well, I am--rather," Harry said. He disappeared into the scrub,returning presently with a log of wood as heavy as he could drag. Wally,seeing his idea, speedily followed suit, and Jim, after a stare, copiedtheir example. They worked so hard that by the time the Hermit and Norahhad the fire alight, quite a respectable stack of wood greeted the eyeof the master of the camp. He looked genuinely pleased.
"Well, you are kind chaps," he said. "That will save me wood-carting formany a day, and it is a job that bothers my old back."
"We're very glad to get it for you, sir," Jim blurted, a trifleshamefacedly. A twinkle came into the Hermit's eyes as he looked at him.
"That's all square, Jim," he said quietly, and without any more beingsaid the boys felt relieved. Evidently this Hermit was not a man to bearmalice, even if he did overhear talk that wasn't meant for him.
"Well," said the Hermit, breaking a somewhat awkward silence, "it'sabout time we heard the dusky Billy, isn't it?"
"Quite time, I reckon," Jim replied. "Lazy young beggar!"
"Well, the billy's not boiling yet, although it's not far off it."
"There he is," Norah said quickly, as a long shout sounded near at hand.The Hermit quickly went off in its direction, and presently returned,followed by Billy, whose eyes were round as he glanced about the strangeplace in which he found himself, although otherwise no sign of surpriseappeared on his sable countenance. He carried the bags containing thepicnic expedition's supply of food, which Norah promptly fell tounpacking. An ample supply remained from lunch, and when displayed toadvantage on the short grass of the clearing the meal looked verytempting. The Hermit's eyes glistened as Norah unpacked a bag of applesand oranges as a finishing touch.
"Fruit!" he said. "Oh, you lucky people! I wish there were fruit shopsin the scrub. I can dispense with all the others, but one does missfruit."
"Well, I'm glad we brought such a bagful, because I'm sure we don't wantit," Norah said. "You must let us leave it with you, Mr. Hermit."
"Water's plenty boilin'," said Billy
Tea was quickly brewed, and presently they were seated on the ground andmaking a hearty meal, as if the lunch of a few hours ago had never been.
"If a fellow can't get hungry in the bush," said Wally, holding out hishand for his fifth scone, "then he doesn't deserve ever to get hungry atall!" To which Jim replied, "Don't worry, old man--that's a fate that'snever likely to overtake you!" Wally, whose hunger was of a generallyprevailing kind, which usually afflicted him most in school hours,subsided meekly into his tea-cup.
They did not hurry over the meal, for everyone was a little lazy afterthe long day, and there was plenty of time to get home--the long summerevening was before them, and it would merge into the beauty of amoonlit night. So they "loafed" and chatted aimlessly, and drank hugequantities of the billy-tea, that is quite the nicest tea in the world,especially when it is
stirred with a stick. And when they were reallyashamed to eat any more they lay about on the grass, yarning, tellingbush tales many and strange, and listening while the Hermit spun themold-world stories that made the time slip away wonderfully. It was witha sigh that Jim roused himself at last.
"Well," he said, "it's awfully nice being here, and I'm not in a bit ofa hurry to go--are you, chaps?"
The chaps chorused "No."
"All the same, it's getting late," Jim went on, pulling out hiswatch--"later than I thought, my word! Come on--we'll have to hurry.Billy, you slip along and saddle up the ponies one-time quick!"
Billy departed noiselessly.
"He never said 'Plenty!'" said Wally disappointedly, gathering himselfup from the grass.
"It was an oversight," Jim laughed. "Now then, Norah, come along. Whatabout the miserable remains?"
"The remains aren't so miserable," said Norah, who was on her kneesgathering up the fragments of the feast. "See, there's a lot of breadyet, ever so many scones, heaps of cake, and the fruit, to say nothingof butter and jam." She looked up shyly at the Hermit. "Would you--wouldyou mind having them?"
The Hermit laughed.
"Not a bit!" he said. "I'm not proud, and it is really a treat to seecivilized food again. I'll willingly act as your scavenger, Miss Norah."
Together they packed up the remnants, and the Hermit deposited theminside his tent. He rummaged for a minute in a bag near his bed, andpresently came out with something in his hand.
"I amuse myself in my many odd moments by this sort of thing," he said."Will you have it, Miss Norah?"
He put a photograph frame into her hand--a dainty thing, made from thenative woods, cunningly jointed together and beautifully carved. Norahaccepted it with pleasure.
"It's not anything," the Hermit disclaimed--"very rough, I'm afraid. Butyou can't do very good work when your pocket-knife is your only tool. Ihope you'll forgive its shortcomings, Miss Norah, and keep it toremember the old Hermit."
"I think it's lovely," Norah said, looking up with shining eyes, "andI'm ever so much obliged. I'll always keep it."
"Don't forget," the Hermit said, looking down at the flushed face. "Andsome day, perhaps, you'll all come again."
"We must hurry," Jim said.
They were all back at the lunching-place, and the sight of the sun,sinking far across the plain, recalled Jim to a sense of half-forgottenresponsibility.
"It's every man for his own steed," he said. "Can you manage your oldcrock, Norah?"
"Don't you wish yours was half as good?" queried Norah, as she took thehalter off Bobs and slipped the bit into his mouth.
Jim grinned.
"Knew I'd got her on a soft spot!" he murmured, wrestling with arefractory crupper.
Harry and Wally were already at their ponies. Billy, having fixed theload to his satisfaction on the pack mare, was standing on one foot on alog jutting over the creek, drawing the fish from their coolresting-place in the water. The bag came up, heavy and dripping--soheavy, indeed, that it proved the last straw for Billy's balance, and,after a wild struggle to remain on the log, he was forced to step offwith great decision into the water, a movement accompanied with adecisive "Bust!" amidst wild mirth on the part of the boys. Luckily, thewater was not knee deep, and the black retainer regained the log, notmuch the worse, except in temper.
"Damp in there, Billy?" queried Wally, with a grave face.
"Plenty!" growled Billy, marching off the log with offended dignity anda dripping leg.
The Hermit had taken Norah's saddle and placed it on Bobs, girthing itup with the quick movements of a practised hand. Norah watched himkeenly, and satisfaction crept into her eyes, as, the job done, the oldman stroked the pony's glossy neck, and Bobs, scenting a friend, put hisnose into his hand.
"He likes you," Norah said; "he doesn't do that to everyone. Do you likehorses?"
"Better than men," said the Hermit. "You've a good pony, Miss Norah."
"Yes, he's a beauty," the little girl said. "I've had him since he was afoal."
"He'll carry you home well. Fifteen miles, is it?"
"About that, I think."
"And we'll find Dad hanging over the home paddock gate, wondering wherewe are," said Jim, coming up, leading his pony. "We'll have to saygood-night, sir."
"Good-night, and good-bye," said the Hermit, holding out his hand. "I'msorry you've all got to go. Perhaps some other holidays--?"
"We'll come out," nodded Jim. He shook hands warmly. "And if ever youfind your way in as far as our place--"
"I'm afraid not," said the Hermit hastily. "As I was explaining to MissNorah, I'm a solitary animal. But I hope to see you all again."
The boys said "good-bye" and mounted. The Hermit held Bobs while Norahswung herself up--the pony was impatient to be gone.
"Good-bye," he said.
Norah looked at him pitifully.
"I won't say good-bye," she said. "I'm coming back--some day. Soit's--'so long!'"
"So long," the old man echoed, rather drearily, holding her hand. Thensomething queer came into his eyes, for suddenly Norah bent from thesaddle and kissed his cheek.
He stood long, watching the ponies and the little young figuresscurrying across the plain. When they vanished he turned wearily and,with slow steps, went back into the scrub.
* * * * *
They forded the creek carefully, for the water was high, and it was darkin the shadows of the trees on the banks. Jim knew the way well, and sodid Norah, and they led, followed by the other boys. When they hadcrossed, it was necessary to go steadily in the dim light. The track wasonly wide enough for them to ride in Indian file, which is not a methodof locomotion which assists conversation, and they rode almost insilence.
It was queer, down there in the bush, with only cries of far-off birdsto break the quiet. Owls and mopokes hooted dismally, and once a greatflapping thing flew into Harry's face, and he uttered a startled yellbefore he realised that it was only one of the night birds--whereatmirth ensued at the expense of Harry. Then to scare away the hootersthey put silence to flight with choruses, and the old bush echoed to"Way Down Upon the Swanee River" and more modern songs, which aren'thalf so sweet as the old Christy Minstrel ditties. After they hadexhausted all the choruses they knew, Harry "obliged" with one ofGordon's poems, recited with such boyish simplicity combined with vigourthat it quite brought down the audience, who applauded so loudly thatthe orator was thankful for the darkness to conceal his blushes.
"Old Harry's our champion elocutioner at school, you know," Wally said."You should have heard him last Speech Day! He got more clapping thanall the rest put together."
"Shut up, young Wally!" growled Harry in tones of affected wrath.
"Same to you," said Wally cheerfully. "Why, you had all the mammashowling into their hankies in your encore piece!"
After which nothing would satisfy Norah but another recitation, andanother after that; and then the timber ended, and there was only thelevel plain be tween them and home, with the moon just high enough tomake it sufficiently light for a gallop. They tore wildly homeward, andlanded in a slightly dishevelled bunch at the gate of the paddock.
No one was about the stables.
"Men all gone off somewhere," said Jim laconically, proceeding to lethis pony go. His example was followed by each of the others, the steedsdismissed with a rub and a pat, and the saddles placed on the stands.
"Well, I don't know about you chaps," said Jim, "but I'm as hungry as ahunter!"
"Same here," chorused the chaps.
"Come along and see what good old Brownie's put by for us," said Norah,disappearing towards the house like a small comet.
The boys raced after her. In the kitchen doorway Mrs. Brown stood, herbroad face resplendent with smiles.
"I was just beginning to wonder if any of you had fallen into thecreek," she said. "You must be hungry, poor dears. Supper's ready."
"Where's Dad?" asked Norah.
"Your Pa's gone to Sydney
."
"Sydney!"
"Yes, my dears. A tallygrum came for him--something about some valuablecattle to be sold, as he wants."
"Oh," said Jim, "those shorthorns he was talking about?"
"Very like, Master Jim. Very sorry, your Pa were, he said, to go sosuddint, and not to see you again, and the other young gentlemenlikewise, seein' you go away on Monday. He left his love to Miss Norah,and a letter for you; and Miss Norah, you was to try not to be dull, andhe would be back by Thursday, so he 'oped."
"Oh," said Norah, blankly. "It's hardly a homecoming without Dad."
Supper was over at last, and it had been a monumental meal. To beholdthe onslaughts made by the four upon Mrs. Brown's extensive preparationsone might have supposed that they had previously been starving for timeuncounted.
"Heigho!" said Jim. "Our last day to-morrow."
Groans followed from Harry and Wally.
"What do you want to remind a fellow for?"
"Couldn't help it--slipped out. What a jolly sell not to see old Dadagain!" Jim wrinkled his brown handsome face into a frown.
"You needn't talk!" said Norah gloomily. "Fancy me on Monday--not a soulto speak to."
"Poor old Norah--yes, it's rough on you," said Jim. "Wish you werecoming too. Why can't you get Dad to let you go to school in Melbourne?"
"Thanks," said Norah hastily, "I'd rather not. I think I can bear thisbetter. School! What on earth would I do with myself, shut up all day?"
"Oh, all right; I thought you might like it. You get used to it, youknow."
"I couldn't get used to doing without Dad," returned Norah.
"Or Dad to doing without you, I reckon," said Jim. "Oh, I suppose it'sbetter as it is--only you'll have to get taught some day, old chap, Isuppose."
"Oh, never mind that now," Norah said impatiently. "I suppose I'll havea governess some day, and she won't let me ride astride, or go after thecattle, or climb trees, or do anything worth doing, and everything willbe perfectly hateful. It's simply beastly to be getting old!"
"Cheer up, old party," Jim laughed. "She might be quite a decent sortfor all you know. As for riding astride, Dad'll never let you ride anyother way, so you can keep your mind easy about that. Well, never mindgovernesses, anyhow; you haven't got one yet, and sufficient unto theday is the governess thereof. What are we going to do to-morrow?"
"Can't do very much," said Norah, still showing traces of gloom. "It'sSunday; besides, the horses want a spell, and you boys will have topack--you leave pretty early on Monday, you know."
"Oh, botheration!" said Wally, jumping up so suddenly that he upset hischair. "For goodness' sake, don't talk of going back until we actuallyget there; it's bad enough then. Let's go and explore somewhereto-morrow."
"We can do that all right," said Jim, glad of any turn being given tothe melancholy conversation. "We've never taken you chaps to the falls,two miles up the creek, and they're worth seeing."
"It's a nice walk, too," added Norah, putting sorrow to flight by deftlylanding a pellet of bread on Harry's nose. "Think you can struggle sofar, Harry?"
"Yes, and carry you back when you knock up," said that gentleman,returning the missile, without success, Norah having retreated behind avase of roses. "I think it would be a jolly good plan."
"Right oh!" said Jim. "That's settled. We'll pack up in the morning, getBrownie to give us dinner early, and start in good time. It doesn'treally take long to walk there, you know, only we want to be able toloaf on the way, and when we get to the falls."
"Rather," said Harry. "I never see any fun in a walk when you tearsomewhere, get there, and tear back again. Life's too short. Come on,Norah, and play to us."
So they trooped into the drawing-room, and for an hour the boys layabout on sofas and easy chairs, while Norah played softly. Finally shefound that her entire audience was sound asleep, a state of things shevery naturally resented by gently pouring water from a vase on theirpeaceful faces. Peace fled at that, and so did Norah.