"Yonder," he said. "Is it not a lovely one?"
"It puts me in mind of old, old times," said Etheldene with a sigh."And you're calling me `Baby' too. Do you remember, ever so long ago inthe Bush, when I was a baby in downright earnest, how you used to sing alullaby to me outside my wee tent?"
"If you go to bed, and don't speak any more, I may do so again."
"Good-night then. Sound sleep to everybody. What fun!" Then Babydisappeared.
Craig sat himself down near the tent, after replenishing the fire--hewas to keep the first watch, then Bill would come on duty--and at oncebegan to sing, or rather `croon' over, an old, old song. His voice wasrich and sweet, and though he sang low it could be heard distinctlyenough by all, and it mingled almost mournfully with the soughing of thewind through the tall trees.
"My song is rather a sorrowful ditty," he had half-whispered to Archiebefore he began; "but it is poor Miss Ethie's favourite." But longbefore Craig had finished no one around the log fire was awake buthimself.
He looked to his rifle and revolvers, placed them handy in case of anattack by blacks, then once more sat down, leaning his back against atree and giving way to thought.
Not over pleasant thoughts were those of Gentleman Craig's, as mighthave been guessed from his frequent sighs as he gazed earnestly into thefire.
What did he see in the fire? _Tableaux_ of his past life? Perhaps orperhaps not. At all events they could not have been very inspiritingones. No one could have started in life with better prospects than hehad done; but he carried with him wherever he went his own fearfulenemy, something that would not leave him alone, but was ever, everurging him to drink. Even as a student he had been what was called "ajolly fellow," and his friendship was appreciated by scores who knewhim. He loved to be considered the life and soul of a company. It wasan honour dearer to him than anything else; but deeply, dearly had hepaid for it.
By this time he might have been honoured and respected in his owncountry, for he was undoubtedly clever; but he had lost himself, andlost all that made life dear--his beautiful, queenly mother. He wouldnever see her more. She was _dead_, yet the memory of the love she borehim was still the one, the only ray of sunshine left in his soul.
And he had come out here to Australia determined to turn over a newleaf. Alas! he had not done so.
"Oh, what a fool I have been!" he said in his thoughts, clenching hislists until the nails almost cut the palms.
He started up now and went wandering away towards the trees. There wasnothing that could hurt him there. He felt powerful enough to grapplewith a dozen blacks, but none were in his thoughts; and, indeed, nonewere in the forest.
He could talk aloud now, as he walked rapidly up and down past the weirdgrey trunks of the gum trees.
"My foolish pride has been my curse," he said bitterly. "But should Iallow it to be so? The thing lies in a nutshell I have never yet hadthe courage to say, `I will not touch the hateful firewater, because Icannot control myself if I do.' If I take but one glass I arouse withinme the dormant fiend, and he takes possession of my soul, and rules allmy actions until sickness ends my carousal, and I am left weak as achild in soul and body. If I were not too proud to say those words tomy fellow-beings, if I were not afraid of being laughed at as a_coward_! Ah, that's it! It is too hard to bear! Shall I face it?Shall I own myself a coward in this one thing? I seem compelled toanswer myself, to answer my own soul. Or is it my dead mother's spiritspeaking through my heart? Oh, if I thought so I--I--"
Here the strong man broke down. He knelt beside a tree trunk and sobbedlike a boy. Then he prayed; and when he got up from his knees he wascalm. He extended one hand towards the stars.
"Mother," he said, "by God's help I shall be free."
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When the morning broke pale and golden over the eastern hills, and thelaughing jackasses came round to smile terribly loud and terriblychaffingly at the white men's preparation for their simple breakfast,Craig moved about without a single trace of his last night's sorrow. Hewas busy looking after the horses when Etheldene came bounding towardshim with both hands extended, so frank and free and beautiful that as hetook hold of them he could not help saying:
"You look as fresh as a fern this morning, Baby."
"Not so green, Craig. Say `Not so green.'"
"No, not so green. But really to look at you brings a great big wave ofjoy surging all over my heart. But to descend from romance tocommon-sense. I hope you are hungry? I have just been seeing to yourhorse. Where do you think I found him?"
"I couldn't guess."
"Why in the water down yonder. Lying down and wallowing."
"The naughty horse! Ah, here come the others! Good morning all."
"We have been bathing," said Archie. "Oh, how delicious!"
"Yes," said Harry; "Johnnie and I were bathing down under the trees, andit really was a treat to see how quickly he came to bank when I told himthere was an alligator taking stock."
"We scared the ducks though. Pity we didn't bring our guns and bag afew."
"I believe we'll have a right good breakfast at Findlayson's," saidCraig; "so I propose we now have a mouthful of something and start."
The gloom of that deep forest became irksome at last; though some of itstrees were wondrous to behold in their stately straightness andimmensity of size, the trunks of others were bent and crooked into suchweird forms of contortion, that they positively looked uncanny.
Referring to these, Archie remarked to Craig, who was riding by hisside:
"Are they not grotesquely beautiful?"
Craig laughed lightly.
"Their grotesqueness is apparent anyhow," he replied. "But would youbelieve it, in this very forest I was a week mad?"
"Mad!"
"Yes; worse than mad--delirious. Oh, I did not run about, I was toofeeble! but a black woman or girl found me, and built a kind of barkgunja over me, for it rained part of the time and dripped the rest. Andthose trees with their bent and gnarled stems walked about me, andgibbered and laughed, and pointed crooked fingers at me. I can affordto smile at it now, but it was very dreadful then; and the worst of itwas I had brought it all on myself."
Archie was silent.
"You know in what way?" added Craig.
"I have been told," Archie said, simply and sadly.
"For weeks, Mr Broadbent, after I was able to walk, I remained amongthe blacks doing nothing, just wandering aimlessly from place to place;but the woods and the trees looked no longer weird and awful to me then,for I was in my right mind. It was spring--nay, but early summer--and Icould feel and drink in all the gorgeous beauty of foliage, of treeflowers and wild flowers, nodding palms and feathery ferns; but, oh! Ileft and went south again; I met once more the white man, and forgot allthe religion of Nature in which my soul had for a time been steeped. Sothat is all a kind of confession. I feel the better for having made it.We are all poor, weak mortals at the best; only I made a resolve lastnight."
"You did?"
"Yes; and I am going to keep it. I am going to have help."
"Help!"
"Yes, from Him who made those stately giants of the forest and changedtheir stems to silvery white. He can change all things."
"Amen!" said Archie solemnly.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
AT FINDLAYSON'S FARM--THE GREAT KANGAROO HUNT--A DINNER AND CONCERT.
Gentleman Craig was certainly a strange mortal; but after all he wasonly the type of a class of men to be found at most of our greatuniversities. Admirable Crichtons in a small way, in the estimation oftheir friends--bold, handsome, careless, and dashing, not to sayclever--they may go through the course with flying colours. But toooften they strike the rocks of sin and sink, going out like the splendidmeteors of a November night, or sometimes--if they continue to float--they are sent off to Australia, with the hopes of giving them one morechance. Alas! they seldom get farther t
han the cities. It is only thevery best and boldest of them that reach the Bush, and there you mayfind them building fences or shearing sheep. If any kind of labour atall is going to make men of them, it is this.
Two minutes after Craig had been talking to Archie, the sweet, clear,ringing notes of his manly voice were awaking echoes far a-down the darkforest.
Parrots and parrakeets, of lovely plumage, fluttered nearer, holding lowtheir wise, old-fashioned heads to look and listen. Lyre-birds hoppedout from under green fern-bushes, raising their tails and glancing attheir figures in the clear pool. They listened too, and ran back towhere their nests were to tell their wives men-people were passingthrough the forest singing; but that they, the cock