CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.
NATURE AT HOME.
If Brookes suspected, he made no show, but went about his work watchfuland quiet as could be, Nic noting that he never went to perform thesimplest duty about the station without a gun, and always seeming to beon the look-out for danger lurking behind bush, tree, or fence.
"He must feel that Leather is somewhere near at hand," thought Nic, "andhe'll betray him if he can."
The convict protested; but, after taking candles and going through thecavern alone, Nic took him flour, tea, and sugar, and various otherthings to make his solitary life more bearable.
"There, I'm very weak," the poor fellow said one day; "but these are theonly happy moments I have had for years, Nic. You have made me like aboy again, and I feel as if I had begun to live a new life. But it istoo good to last, Nic. There is too much sunshine, and the storm andflood will come. When does your father return?"
"Don't talk of him as if he were a storm," cried Nic.
"But you will have less liberty then."
"Oh, I don't know; I shall go on taking long rides round after the sheepand cattle. I say, I never told you: we've lost two sheep during thepast fortnight."
"The blacks."
"That's what we all thought; but Bungarolo and the others are sure thatthere have been no blackfellows in the neighbourhood. They went out fortwo days afterwards, and came back and declared they had seen none. Ifthey had, of course I shouldn't be here. I think it's the dingoes,though we found no skin or bones. Old Sam and I are going to take thedogs and have a hunt. Let Rumble and Tumble run them to bay, and thenlet loose Nibbler at them."
"Try it," said Leather laconically.
That day, in accordance with a promise, the convict took Nic for a longwalk through the open gorge, where the gum trees grew of gigantic size,and on down the river for some miles, to where it spread out into a widelagoon, completely shut in by the forest, and with the borders fringedby reeds and tall grasses, offering plenty of cover for them toapproach. The ducks were in abundance, and Leather laughingly spoke ofit as his larder where he fished for them, hiding among the reeds, andsending a small fish sailing among them at the end of a line, with theresult that he often hooked one and drew it ashore for a meal.
But it was not to catch a shoal of ducks that they were come, theconvict cautiously leading the way to a broad extent of marshy ground,from which the water had retired in consequence of the drought, andhere, upon their crawling up to the screen of reeds, Leather drew asidefor the boy to peer through to see pretty close at hand a flock of overa hundred grey stork-like birds marching about gravely, and dartingtheir bills down sharply here and there at some fish or frog in a pool.Others were standing on one leg, with the other and the long neckregularly folded up, and the bill tucked neatly away among the feathers.
All seemed grave, calm, and deliberate, every motion being made in themost solemn fashion, one of them the root of whose beak itchedscratching it with a claw in a gracefully zigzag mode.
They were fine tall birds, fully four feet in height, and of a beautifulgrey; but after kneeling in a damp place for about a quarter of an hourNic grew weary, and turned to look at the convict, who smiled, nodded,and held up a finger, as much as to say, "Be patient."
"Things never do what you want at the right time," thought Nic; buthardly had he mentally spoken when one of the storks farther off uttereda peculiar cry like the low note of a cracked clarionet, and in aninstant the long-legged birds from all quarters came trooping up, someof them helping their movements by extending their wings a little, tillall were collected in a rough kind of circle, one remaining almostmotionless in the middle of the ring.
A few more of the quaint trumpeted-out notes were heard, and these wereuttered by one of the cranes nearest to Nic, who could see thescissors-like beak open, the bright eye, and the gay scarlet ear-lobesof the solemn-looking bird, which drew itself up, took a look round in astately way, and then seemed to Nic to have gone mad; for it suddenlybegan to dance and caper about, bowing and shaking its head to itscompanions again and again before leaping in the air and coming downupon its feet, to go through a series of the wildest gambols imaginable.It waltzed, advanced, retreated, set to partners, skipped here andthere with wonderful activity, and began again.
Its actions were contagious, for the next minute fully a hundred of thelong-legged bipeds were capering about the marsh in a frantic dance,snapping their bills, and evidently enjoying this ebullition offantastic gambols.
Nic would have roared with laughter had he not been afraid to send thebirds away and so end their game; and this went on for some minutes,ending in a regular wild country dance peculiar to bird-land, afterwhich all was still. Some of the cranes rested on one leg, with a heelprojecting from beneath their tails, others stood still with their headscowered down between their shoulders, and the rest stalked solemnlyabout, peering here and there in search of frogs or small fish, and itwas hard to imagine that these grave and reverent-looking grey signorscould ever have been guilty of such antics.
On some days Nic arrived late, and when the moon rose went opossumshooting, the skins being prepared by the convict for a bed. Oneevening he stayed late to be taken to see the lyre bird come dancingdown a green lane between dense casuarinas, to a favourable spot forthese beautiful creatures. And once he saw the peculiar bird, large asa pheasant, spread its curious tail, dance, rattle its wings, andindulge in a series of cries and calls--now it would be whistling, atanother time making a sound like the cracking of a whip, and at anothertime justifying its native name of bullan-bullan.
Mayne had always some new natural history object to introduce to Nic,throwing himself heart and soul into his pursuits, and announcing atlast that he had seen emus about in one particular spot, and saying hewas sure that there must be a nest.
Nic had longed to get specimens of the great dark green eggs, and heheard the announcement with delight.
"Just what I wanted," he cried; "but I meant for us to explore thecavern next time I came."
"If we soon find the nest, we shall have time to do some exploring aswell," replied Mayne; "so bring your candles, and I'll get some of thebunya wood and dry it in the sun. It burns well, and it will help tolight up some of the dark parts. When will you come over?"
"Day after to-morrow."
"If your father has not returned," said the convict sadly.
"Well, if he does, on the next day. I say, don't look so downhearted.You see that was all fancy about Brookes suspecting anything."
"I don't know," said the convict thoughtfully.
"I think I do," said Nic, laughing. "He has been as nervous as can befor fear of your coming back to punish him for laying information aboutyou with Mr Dillon. If he felt that you were anywhere near, he wouldsoon go over to the Wattles again. Sam says you've gone right away ahundred miles up in the myall scrub to join the Gunalong tribe, andmarried and settled."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, he said we should never see you again. Good-bye."
The convict grasped his hand, and they parted at the mouth of thecavern.
"Nic, my dear," said Mrs Braydon that night. "You will be obliged tohave some more shoes; those last have quite rotted away at thestitching. You seem to be always wading and getting your feet wet. Dobe careful, my dear; it is so difficult to get anything new. Is allwell about the station?"
"Everything, mother, excepting the loss of those sheep. We must have adingo hunt. It won't do to lose any more before father comes home."
Mrs Braydon sighed.
"It seems so long since we have heard, my dear," she said. "If it werenot that I don't like to spare you, I would get you to ride over and seehow Sir John is getting on."
Nic thought he would like to go; but he, too, felt that it would not bepossible to leave home, and for more reasons than one.