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diff --git a/old/60444-0.txt b/old/60444-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a304c7e..0000000 --- a/old/60444-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10370 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of From Billabong to London, by Mary Grant -Bruce - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: From Billabong to London - -Author: Mary Grant Bruce - -Release Date: October 7, 2019 [EBook #60444] -Last Updated: February 22, 2023 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Al Haines, Cindy Beyer & the online Distributed -Proofreaders Canada team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM BILLABONG TO LONDON *** - - - - - - - - - - - [Cover Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration: “‘Why!—it’s some one signalling!’” (Page 145.)] - - _From Billabong to London_] [_Frontispiece_ - - - - - F R O M - B I L L A B O N G - T O L O N D O N - - - - - BY - MARY GRANT BRUCE - _Author of “Mates at Billabong,” “Glen Eyre,”_ - _“Timothy in Bushland,” etc._ - - W A R D , L O C K & C O . , L I M I T E D - LONDON, MELBOURNE AND TORONTO - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I. — HOLIDAYS AT BILLABONG................... 9 - II. — UPHEAVALS............................... 24 - III. — OF A CHESTNUT BABY...................... 42 - IV. — A BILLABONG DAY......................... 66 - V. — GOOD-BYE................................ 91 - VI. — SETTLING DOWN........................... 105 - VII. — OF FISHES AND THE SEA................... 120 - VIII. — WHAT NORAH SAW.......................... 140 - IX. — DETECTIVE WORK.......................... 152 - X. — THE EMPTY CABIN......................... 166 - XI. — DURBAN.................................. 178 - XII. — EXPLORING............................... 199 - XIII. — WHAT CAME OF EXPLORING.................. 210 - XIV. — GOOD-BYE TO DURBAN...................... 223 - XV. — MIST AND MOONLIGHT...................... 237 - XVI. — WAR!.................................... 253 - XVII. — WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT................ 271 - XVIII. — LAS PALMAS.............................. 285 - XIX. — THE END OF THE VOYAGE................... 297 - XX. — THE THING THAT COUNTS................... 307 - - - - - FROM BILLABONG - TO LONDON. - - ―•― - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - - HOLIDAYS AT BILLABONG. - -IF you came to the homestead of Billabong by the front entrance, you -approached a great double gate of wrought iron, which opened stiffly, -with protesting creaks, and creaked almost as much at being closed. Then -you found yourself in a long, winding avenue, lined with tall -pine-trees, beyond which you could catch glimpses, between the trunks, -of a kind of wilderness-garden, where climbing roses and flowering -shrubs and gum-trees and bush plants, and a host of pleasant, friendly, -common flowers grew all together in a very delightful fashion. Seeing, -however, that you were a visitor by the front entrance, you could not -answer the beckonings of the wilderness-garden, but must follow the -windings of the avenue, on and on, until the wild growth on either side -gave place to spreading lawns and trim flower-beds, the pine-trees -ended, and you came round a kind of corner formed by an immense bush of -scarlet bougainvillea, and so found the house smiling a welcome. - -Very rarely were any doors or windows shut at Billabong. The kindly -Australian climate makes the sunlit winter air a delight; and if in -summer it is sometimes necessary to shut out heat, and possibly -intrusive snakes, as soon as the sun goes down everything is flung wide -open to admit the cool evening breeze that comes blowing across the -paddocks. Billabong always looked as if it were open to welcome the -newcomer. - -It was a red house of two storeys, looking lower than it was because of -its width and the great trees that grew all round it, as well as because -of its broad balconies and verandahs. From either side the garden -stretched away until hedges of roses blocked the entrance to orchard and -vegetable patches. The house stood on a gentle rise, and in front the -trees had been thinned so that across the smooth lawn you looked over -stretching paddocks, dotted with gum-trees, and broken by the silver -gleam of a reed-fringed lagoon. There was no other house visible—only -the wide, peaceful paddocks. The nearest road was two miles away, and it -was seventeen miles to the nearest town. Perhaps, seen from the front, -Billabong might have seemed a little lonely. - -But, in fact, no one ever dreamed of coming to Billabong by the front. -There had, of course, been a few exceptions to the rule; as in the case -of a new Governor-General, who had been brought in state to see it as a -typical Australian station, and had greatly annoyed the inmates by -bringing his dogs in to luncheon and feeding them with bones on the -dining-room carpet, which happened to be a Persian rug of value. The -Billabong folk looked back to that visit with considerable disgust. -Sometimes other strangers found their way to the great iron gates, and -up the avenue; but not often. Occasional callers did not come to -Billabong, since the owner and his motherless children were not -ceremonious people, and in any case, no one drives seventeen miles in -the Australian bush to pay a call of ceremony. Those who came were -prepared to stay, and were more immediately concerned with the disposal -of their horses than with any other consideration; so that it followed -that the chief entrance to Billabong was known as “the back way.” - -The tracks alone would have told you that. As you came up from the outer -paddocks, the gravel of the drive was smooth and untouched save for the -gardener’s rake; but the other tracks, deep and well trodden, swept -round beside the garden and turned in to the courtyard of the -stables—big, red-brick buildings, looking almost as large as the house -itself. It was always cheerful and exciting at the stables, for all the -dogs took charge of you directly you arrived, and made vigorous remarks -about you, until they were quite sure whether you were a person to be -trusted. “Swagmen”—the bush tramps of Australia—loathed the Billabong -dogs very exceedingly; and the dogs returned the feeling in a lively -fashion, so that the progress of a swagman from the outer gate to the -security of the back yard was apt to be fraught with incident and marked -by haste. But if your respectability were evident, the dogs became -merely enthusiastic, inspecting visitor and horses with well-bred -curiosity, and finally accompanying you to the gate with demonstrations -of friendliness, and parting from you with regret. - -Within the gate you had, as Murty O’Toole, the head stockman, put it, -“your choice thing of tracks.” One led across the gravelled yard to the -kitchen and its long row of out-buildings; another took you in the shade -of a row of pepper-trees to Mr. Linton’s office, where interviews with -the men were held, and all the business of a big station went forward. -Another—Jim and Norah Linton liked this one—went directly to the -orchard, where, on hot days, might be found cherries and apricots, -peaches, nectarines, great red Japanese plums, guavas, and long beds of -strawberries and raspberries. But the most worn track of all led through -a porch that opened in a creeper-hung fence, on the other side of which -you found yourself in the garden, and presently on the side verandah, a -pleasant place, half closed in by passion fruit vines and clematis, and -made very homely and comfortable with long basket-chairs and tables -where books and magazines lay. There were rugs on the tiled floor, and, -here and there, tall palms in oaken tubs. Nearly all the year round, the -Billabong folk were to be found on the side verandah. - -It was vacant just now, save for one inmate, a big man in riding dress, -asleep on a rush lounge. His whip and broad felt hat were tossed on the -table beside him, and a collie, also asleep, lay in a patch of sunlight -near. It was mid-winter, yet the sun shone warmly across the sheltered -space; a good corner to bask in, after the keen wind sweeping across the -paddocks. Everything was very quiet. The glass doors leading into a room -close by were open, but no sound came from the house, and the big man -slept like a child. Presently, however, a chorus of barking came from -the stables, and the sleeper stirred and opened his eyes. - -“Billy, I expect,” he said, yawning. “Believe I’ve been asleep.” He -glanced at his watch. “Half-past three!—it’s high time that black -rascal was here.” - -He got up, stretching himself, and went to the edge of the verandah—a -mighty figure of a man, well over six feet, with broad shoulders and a -loosely hung frame indicative of great strength. His hair and -close-cropped beard were turning grey; but the whole face held an -indefinable boyishness, due perhaps to the twinkle that was never far -from the deep-set eyes. As he watched, the chorus of barking drew -nearer, the gate in the porch swung open, and a native boy came through, -his black face a startling contrast to his white shirt and spotless -moleskin breeches. He grinned broadly as he neared the verandah. - -“You’re late, Billy,” David Linton said. - -“Plenty that pfeller mare lazy,” said the dusky one, cheerfully. “That -one gettin’ old, boss. Better me ride one of this year’s lot—eh?” He -handed over a leather mailbag and a bundle of papers, remaining poised -on one foot, in evident anxiety as to his answer. - -“One of the new young horses?—what, to carry out mails and parcels? No, -thanks, Billy, I’m not keen on experiments that lead to broken legs,” -replied the squatter, laughing. “Old Bung-Eye is good for the job for a -long time yet.” Then, in answer to the downcast face as the black boy -turned away, “I’ll see what Mr. Jim says about your taking one of the -new lot out mustering—if you behave yourself and take him gently.” - -“Plenty!” said Billy, rejoicing. “That black colt, boss—him going to -make a mighty good horse——” - -“We’ll see what Mr. Jim says. Be off—it’s high time you had the cows in -the milking-yard.” The gate slammed behind the ecstatic Billy as his -master went back to his chair and unlocked the mailbag. - -He lifted a rather furrowed brow half an hour later at a step beside -him—the housekeeper, round, fat and cheery, her twinkling eyes almost -lost in her wide, jolly face. - -“Will you have tea now, sir?” - -“The children are not in, are they, Brownie?” - -“Not yet,” Mrs. Brown answered, smoothing her spotless apron. “Mr. Jim -said they’d be back at four-ish; but when it comes to gettin’ back it’s -generally—as a rule more ‘ish’ than ‘four.’ Would you rather wait a -little, sir?” - -“I think so,” said the squatter, absent-mindedly, his glance wandering -back to the letter in his hand. “Yes—there’s no hurry, Brownie—and -Miss Norah seems to like to pour out my tea.” - -“She do, bless her,” said Mrs. Brown. “I always say meals aren’t the -same to Miss Norah if you’re not there, sir. Poor lamb—and so soon -goin’ back to that there school. Mighty little she gets for tea there, -I’ll be bound.” - -“Well, she doesn’t strike one as ill-fed, Brownie—and you know she -likes school.” - -“I know she likes home better,” said Brownie, darkly. “Me, I don’t hold -with schools. I was glad when Master Jim came home for good an’ I’ll be -gladder when it’s Miss Norah’s last term. Edication’s all very well in -its way, like castor-oil; but you can get too much of it. Why, Miss -Norah’s grandma never even heard of half them fancy things she knows, -and where’d you find a better manager of a house than she was? What she -didn’t know about curing bacon——!” Brownie sighed in inability to -express fitly the superhuman attainments of her nursling’s ancestress. - -“Well, you know, Brownie, I look to you for all that side of Norah’s -education,” said Mr. Linton pacifically. “And you say yourself that the -child is no bad housekeeper.” - -“I should think she isn’t,” retorted Mrs. Brown. “Mighty few girls, -though I say it as shouldn’t, cook better than Miss Norah, or can be -handier about a house. But where’s the use of all them other things? -Physics, which ain’t anything to do with medicine, an’ brushwork that’s -not even first-cousin to a broom an’ physi—something—or—other, which -is learnin’ more about your inside than any young lady has any call for. -No, I don’t hold with it at all. But it doesn’t seem to hurt her, bless -her!” - -“No, I don’t think it hurts her,” David Linton said. “Learning does not -seem to make her any less healthy, either in mind or body; and that’s -the main thing, Brownie. You mustn’t grumble at the bit of extra -polish—they all have it nowadays, and it’s no bad thing.” His eyes lit -up suddenly. “There they come,” he said. “Is your kettle boiling?” - -There were sounds of hoof-beats on the track, faint at first and then -more distinct. The dogs burst into a wild chorus of welcome. Brownie -disappeared hurriedly in the direction of the kitchen, and Mr. Linton -lay back in his long chair and gave his letter a half-hearted attention, -his eyes wandering to the door in the porch. Presently came quick feet -and merry voices, the door swung open, and three people entered in a -pell-mell fashion and descended upon the verandah like a miniature -cyclone. - -“I know we’re late, but we couldn’t help it,” Norah said breathlessly. -“There was such a heap to do in the Far Plain, Dad—you ask the -manager!” She shot a laughing glance at her brother, an immensely tall -individual, who responded by lazily pitching his hat at her. “Oh, the -wind is cold, Dad—we raced home against it, and it cut like a knife. -But it was lovely. Have you had tea? I do hope you haven’t.” - -“I waited for the mistress of the house; and Brownie gave me her views -on the Higher Education of Women,” said her father. “She seems to think -you’re learning too much, Norah. Are you worried about it?” - -“Not so much as my teachers,” said Norah, laughing. “And their anxieties -seem all the other way. Oh, don’t let us think of school, Daddy—it will -be bad enough when the time really comes.” - -The third of the newcomers uttered a hollow groan. Like Jim Linton, he -was a tall, lean boy; but while Jim gave promise of as mighty a pair of -shoulders as his father’s, Wally Meadows exemplified at the moment -length without breadth. Everything about him was lean and quick and -active; his brown hands were never still, and his merry brown face was -always alight with interest, except in those deep moments when those who -knew him had reason to suspect some amazing outbreak of mischief in his -plotting brain. Finding that no one observed him, he groaned again, yet -more hollowly. - -“What’s the matter, old man?” Jim asked. “Toothache? Or lack of tea?” - -“I don’t have toothache; and Billabong doesn’t have any lack of tea. If -you haven’t just had tea here, it’s because you’re just going to have -it,” said Wally severely, and with truth; for in an Australian bush home -tea begins to occur at an early hour in the morning, and continues to -occur with great frequency all day. “No, it’s only the idea of school. -You’re so hideously old and important now that I suppose you forget all -about it, but it’s only two Christmases ago that Norah and I used to dry -your tears at going back. Didn’t we, Norah? - -“What about your own tears?” Mr. Linton asked, laughing. - -“Why, I shed them still,” said Wally. “I could begin now, quite easily. -Didn’t you hear me groan?—I’ll do it again, if you’d care for it. It -isn’t any trouble.” - -“Don’t think of me,” begged his host. “I wouldn’t put you to the -exertion for any consideration. And really I don’t believe that any of -you mind school half as much as you make out. You have an uncommonly -good time when you’re there.” - -“Yes, of course we do,” Wally said. “School truly isn’t a bad old place, -once you’ve got to it. But a fellow gets a bit restless as age creeps -upon him, you know, sir—and especially since this old reprobate left -and took to station-managing, I’ve been feeling it was about time I got -busy at something beside cricket and footer and lessons. And now, of -course, it’s worse than ever.” - -“Now?” - -“Well, you see, so many of the fellows one knew are in camp. Lots of the -seniors left almost as soon as war broke out and the Australian -Contingent was started. Wouldn’t I give my ears to go!” said Wally -hotly. “And they say I’m too young. Well, Mills and Fisher and -Ballantyne were under me in the footer team, and they’re taken; they may -be a bit older, but I can handle any of them with one hand. It doesn’t -seem fair. However, I expect there will still be war when I get to the -age limit, and then I’m off!” - -A slow flush had crept over Jim Linton’s grave face. He rose and went to -the edge of the verandah, staring across the garden, and kicking with -his heel at a grass-tuft trying to grow up in the gravel. There was a -moment’s uncomfortable silence; and Wally, seeing his chum’s hand clench -tighter on the stockwhip he still held, bit his lip and mentally -informed himself that he was an idiot. Then came footsteps, and Mrs. -Brown appeared, panting behind a loaded tea-tray. - -“I was getting quite worried about your pa having no tea, Miss Norah,” -she said, cheerfully. “But he wouldn’t let me bring it till you was all -home.” - -“And we were late, of course,” Norah said, penitently, jumping up and -making swift clearance of the hats and whips encumbering the rush-work -tea-table. “But there was such a heap to do. We found one poor old sheep -down; and when we were close to it we discovered that it was in a sort -of barbed-wire entanglement. It had picked up a loose piece of wire -somewhere, and managed to wind it round and round its body, buried deep -in the wool. And its poor cut legs!” - -“Could you save it, Jim?” Mr. Linton asked. - -“Oh, yes, it’s all right,” Jim answered, turning. “Beastly job, of -course; the poor brute was even more stupid than the average sheep, and -kicked itself into a worse mess when we came near it. We had to get -Norah to hold down its head while Wally and I got the wire away—and -that meant cutting it out of the wool. It looked as if a very amateur -shearer had been at it with blunt nail scissors, by the time we had -finished; I never saw anything like the way twisted old barbed-wire can -imbed itself in wool. However, the patient was able to walk away -afterwards; he had two battle-scarred legs, but they didn’t seem to -worry him much.” - -“How are the cattle looking in the Far Plain?” his father asked. - -“Bad enough,” said Jim, stirring his tea. “The grass, such as it was, -has gone off very much since I was out there last, a fortnight ago. The -Queensland bullocks haven’t put on a bit of condition since we turned -them in. And the creek is awfully low. Take it all round, Dad, I don’t -think we’ve ever had such a bad season.” - -“No; Billabong never was as dry—in my time, at all events,” said David -Linton. “It’s the worst year in these parts that any one remembers. -Australia is certainly having its full allowance just now—war, -increased taxation, political troubles; and on top of all, the drought. -I suppose we’ll worry through them all in time, but the process is -slow.” - -“Where were you to-day, Dad?” Norah asked. - -“I’ve been through the lower paddocks; they always stand dry weather -better than the Far Plain, but they’re not encouraging, for all that,” -answered her father. “The cattle are holding their own, so far, but -nothing more. Did you see any dead ones, Jim?” - -“No—but two that were sick look weak enough to be thinking of dying. We -got one poor brute bogged in the creek—not badly, thank goodness; we -were able to get him out, but it took time. Some one will have to go out -there every day until the boggy places are dry enough to be safe, or -we’ll certainly lose some stock. Drought years,” said Jim, solemnly, -“seem to mean plenty of extra work, extra expense, extra worry, and -extra everything except money.” - -“They do—but we’ll pull through all right,” said David Linton, -cheerfully. “I know it’s disheartening to see the old place looking like -a dust-heap; still, we’ve had a lot of good years, and we mustn’t -grumble. And even if it does look dry, there’s plenty of feed and water -yet on Billabong. Neither is the bank likely to worry me—if the worst -came to the worst, and we had to shift the stock, or to buy feed, it can -be managed.” - -“Things might be a heap worse,” said Norah. “Why, we might be in -Belgium.” - -“You’re like Mrs. Wiggs, who consoled herself in her darkest hours by -reflecting that she might have had a hare-lip,” said Wally, laughing, -though his eyes were grave. The great war was in its very early stages, -and only cable messages of its progress had yet reached Australia; but -the heroism and the sufferings of Belgium and her people were ringing -round the world, and from the farthest corners of the Empire men were -flocking to fight under the Allies’ standard and to thrust back the -German invaders. Half a dozen of the Billabong stockmen had gone; it was -a sore point with the son of the house that he had not been permitted to -join the Expeditionary Force with the men with whom he had so often -ridden at work. - -“I hear there’s no fresh news,” he said. “We met Mr. Harrison, and he -said there was nothing.” - -“No; I telephoned at lunch-time,” said his father. “But there’s an -English mail in, and the papers should make interesting reading. We will -have them to-night.” - -“Well, it’s getting dusk, and I have one sick wallaby to look after, -eggs to gather, and chicks to shut up,” said Norah. “Come on, Wally, and -I will let you crawl in under the haystack to the old Wyandotte’s nest.” - -“Your kindness, ma’am, would electrify me if I were not used to it,” -said Wally, ruefully, getting his long form by degrees out of the low -chair in which he was coiled. “Why you don’t put a chain on that old -Wyandotte’s horny leg is more than I can imagine—I believe it’s because -you like to see me worming my way under that beastly stack. Man was not -made to emulate the goanna and the serpent, young Norah, and it’s time -you realised the fact.” - -“I don’t see how it affects you, at any rate,” said Norah, cruelly. -“Boys of seventeen!” She tilted a naturally tilted nose, and patted -Wally kindly on the head as she passed him. “In a few years you will -probably be too fat to crawl under anything at all, and meanwhile it’s -excellent exercise.” - -“It’s a good thing for you that you’re a mere girl,” said the maligned -one, following her. “When the meek inherit the earth I’ll come in for -all Billabong, I should think, for certainly you and Jim won’t deserve -it. Don’t you think so, Jimmy?” - -“All the real estate your meekness is likely to bring you won’t -embarrass you much,” said his chum, grinning. “One’s recollections of -you at school don’t seem to include anything so meek as to be startling. -In fact, now that I come to consider the matter, Dad and Norah are about -the only people who ever have a chance of observing your submissive -side. And not always Norah.” - -“I should think not always Norah!” said that lady. “Meek, indeed!” - -“As a matter of fact, there’s no one who makes me feel my own meekness -so much as Brownie,” said Wally. “There’s a dignity about her that you -would do well to cultivate, Norah, my child. I think it comes with -weight. Still, as there seems no chance of your attaining it, how about -looking after the wallaby?” - -“It’s high time,” said Norah. “I told Billy to feed him whenever he -thought of it, knowing that would not be more than once, and probably -not at all. Coming, Jim?” - -“No, thanks,” said Jim, from behind an outspread _Times_. “Not with the -English papers in, old girl—and war flourishing.” - -“You can tell us about it when we come in,” Norah said. “I’ll race you -to the paddock, Wally!” The sound of their flying feet died away, -leaving two silent figures on the verandah. - - - - -[Illustration: “The progress of a swagman . . . was apt to - be fraught with incident and marked by haste.”] - - _From Billabong to London_] [_Page 11_ - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - - UPHEAVALS. - -DUSK falls early in an Australian mid-winter, and as evening draws in, -the frost in the air nips sharply after the brilliant sunshine of the -day. It was half an hour later that David Linton put down his paper and -glanced across at his son. - -“Too dark to read—and too cold,” he said. “Come into the smoking-room.” - -“I suppose it’s time to make a move,” Jim answered, rising, hat and -stockwhip in one hand and a bundle of papers in the other. “It’s going -to be a cold night. I wish this frosty weather would break, and there -might be a chance of rain; we want it badly enough.” - -“You’re getting worried about the place,” his father said, leading the -way into the smoking-room, where the leaping light from a great fire of -red-gum logs flung dancing shadows on deep leather chairs drawn -invitingly near its warmth. The squatter sat down and glanced -affectionately at his tall son. “Switch on the light, Jim. Drought is -bad, but there’s no need to make yourself an old man over it; we won’t -let the stock starve, and if we have a bad year—well, the old place is -sound, and we’ve had many good ones. I’m not exactly a poor man, Jim, -and one drought won’t make me so.” - -“Oh, I don’t worry about being poor,” Jim answered. “After all, one -doesn’t want to do much with money up here; and one can keep away from -Sydney and Melbourne, if cash is short. It’s certainly disheartening to -see the place looking its worst, and the stock getting poorer each -week—there’s nothing jollier than riding over it when the grass is -knee-deep and the creeks and the river high, and all the stock rolling -fat, and the horses kicking up their heels with sheer joy at being -alive. One doesn’t think then of the actual money it means; it’s only -the feeling that it’s a good thing to be alive oneself. This sort of -year does not come often, thank goodness, and one knows it can’t last -for ever.” - -“It is just a little rough on you that it should come in the first year -you have helped me to manage the place,” said his father. “But then, -from a selfish point of view, it’s better for me to have your help and -companionship through a tough time. And it has been a help, Jim.” - -Jim shot a grateful look at him. David Linton was a man of few words; -the brief sentence meant much on his lips, and the boy’s eyes softened. - -“I’m awfully glad if it has,” he said, awkwardly. “I haven’t had enough -experience to be really useful, but I’m as interested as I can be—and -there’s no life like it. I don’t want anything better than Billabong, -and to work with you. But——” - -He broke off, irresolutely. That which he had to say had never seemed -easy; it was harder than ever, now, with his father’s kind words warm at -his heart. All day, riding through the bare, bleak paddocks, he had -tried to frame words that would be firm, and yet not hurt. Now, looking -into the steady grey eyes that were like his own, he could not find -speech at all. He rose, and taking a pipe from the mantel-shelf, began -to fill it slowly. - -“But you’re worried still,” said David Linton, watching him. “Well, so -am I. And as open confession is good for the soul, and we’re all mates -on Billabong, let’s have the worries out, old son. Tell me yours first.” - -Jim stood up, straight and tall, on the hearthrug, forgetting his pipe. -The light was full on his brown face, showing it older than his years -warranted. He met his father’s eyes steadily. - -“I can’t stand it, Dad,” he said. “I’ve tried, honestly, since we talked -about it, and done my best to put it out of my head. But it’s no good. -I’ve got to go.” - -“You mean—to the war?” - -“Yes. I know jolly well it’s rough on you—because I’m the only son. I -suppose it doesn’t seem quite fair to you, my even wanting to go. But if -you were my age it would. And all the fellows I knew best have enlisted; -some of them are younger than I am; and I’m standing out. They used to -look up to me in a sort of way when I was captain of the school. They -can’t do it now. They’re doing their share, and I’m just a shirker.” - -“That’s rubbish,” his father said, hastily. “You wanted to go from the -first day, only you gave in to my wish. It’s my doing.” - -“That doesn’t seem to matter,” Jim answered. “The only fact that matters -is that I’m taking it easy, and they are getting ready. I know you had -lots of good reasons, and I have tried not to care; and it was hard, -when the men went, and I felt they were wondering why I didn’t go, too. -You know it isn’t because I want to leave you and Billabong, don’t you, -Dad?” - -“Oh, I know that,” said David Linton. - -“There are some things that get too big for a fellow,” Jim said, slowly. -“Of course I’m only a youngster; but I’m tough, and I can shoot and -ride, and I had four years as a cadet, so I know the drill. It seems to -me that any fellow who can be as useful as that, and who isn’t really -tied, has no right to stay behind. Lots of fellows younger than I am are -joining in England—boys of sixteen are getting commissions. I don’t -care about a commission, but I want to do my bit. I’ve got to do the -square thing.” - -“It is always a little difficult, I suppose, for a man to realise that -his children are growing up,” David Linton said, heavily. “You were such -babies when your mother died—and that seems only yesterday. I know that -you’ll do a man’s work wherever you are. But to me you’re still in many -ways the small boy your mother left me.” - -“Well, except for this I don’t want to be any different,” Jim answered. -“You’ve never made me feel it, except in being jolly good to me—look -how you’ve treated me as a sort of equal in managing the place, ever -since I left school. I’ve never said anything, but I’ve noticed it every -day.” - -“Well, you have common sense—and you don’t do wild things with your -authority,” his father answered. “You’ve made it possible for yourself. -And you know, Jim, I didn’t actually forbid you to enlist. I don’t give -you orders.” - -“That’s just it,” Jim burst out. “You never do—you’re so jolly decent -to me. You asked me not to go; and I’d do anything rather than hurt you. -But this is such a big thing, Dad—and it’s getting bigger. I want you -to believe that it isn’t just the excitement and all that part of it. -But——” - -There was silence for a moment. Jim rammed tobacco into his pipe -furiously, and then laid it aside again with a gesture of impatience. - -“There are things a fellow can’t talk about,” he said. “I’m an awful -fool at talking, anyhow. But one can’t open a paper without reading -about Belgium and the things the Germans have done there; and it makes -one feel one has simply got to go. Fighting men is all very well, and in -the way of business. But—women and kids!” - -“I know,” said David Linton. - -From the drawing-room came the cheerful sound of a piano, and Norah’s -fresh young voice in a verse of a song, with Wally joining in. The -father gripped the arms of his chair and stared in front of him; seeing, -perhaps, blackened Northern cornfields, and children who fled, crying, -before an army. - -No one spoke for a long time. The silence in the room was only broken by -the tick of the clock and the sputter and crackle of the wood fire. From -his post on the hearthrug Jim watched his father, trying vaguely to read -his answer in the grave face. But David Linton, staring into the fire, -gave no sign. His thoughts were wandering back over the long years since -his wife’s death had fallen upon him suddenly, tearing the fabric of his -life to pieces. Then it had seemed to him that nothing could ever mend -it or make it again worth living; but as time crept on, baby fingers -unconsciously had taken up the broken threads and woven them into -something new—not the old, perfect happiness, but a life full of -interest and contentment. - -Such mates they had been, he and his children. All through the years, -they had shared things: worked, and played, and laughed together until -their relationship had grown into a companionship and a mutual -comprehension that held little of authority on one side, but all of love -on both. For that short, terrible season after the little mother had -gone away, the house had been home no longer, but a place of desolation; -and then the father had realised that his babies needed more from him, -and that through them alone lay his way of peace. There is nearly always -something bigger than one’s personal grief, no matter how great it -seems; and it is that one thing bigger that spells comfort. David Linton -had never put aside his grief altogether, for it was part of himself. -But he had put his children first, since to do so was part of his -doctrine of doing “the square thing.” Little and helpless, their -happiness must not suffer. Somewhere, he knew, the little mother was -watching them. Heaven could not keep her from watching her babies—from -straining hungry eyes to see how he was managing the task she had left -him. When the time came to go to her he must be able to give a good -account. - -He knew, looking back, that they had been happy. Life had held no cares -beyond the necessary trial of leaving home for school—a trial always -compensated by the joy of getting back. They had known no loneliness; -Billabong and its wild acres, its free, simple life, had filled each day -with work that was pleasure and with the thousand cheerful recreations -of the Bush. He had tried to make them healthy, wholesome, and useful, -holding as he did that no life was complete without all three -attributes. They had repaid him by coming up to his standard in other -things as well; by being sound in mind and body, honest as the day, and -of a clean, straight courage. Throughout all they had been his mates. -The little watching mother would be satisfied. - -Now, for the first time in sixteen years, the parting of the ways must -come. Authority had never been one of his methods; and if it had been, -this was not the time to use it. He had taught the tall lad who stood -before him his version of “the decent thing,” and his teaching had come -home; even in his pain he welcomed it. Jim would not have been Jim had -he been willing to sit contentedly at home. - -He looked up, and smiled suddenly at the boy’s unhappy face. “Don’t look -like that, old son,” he said. “It’s all right.” - -A great load rolled off Jim’s heart. - -“Dad! You don’t mind——” - -“Well, a fellow doesn’t cheerfully give up his only son,” David Linton -said. “But I’ve seen it coming, Jim, and, as you say, this thing is -bigger than we are. I wouldn’t have you not want to go.” - -“Oh, thank goodness!” said Jim, and sat down and lit his pipe. - -“I couldn’t make up my mind to it at first,” his father went on. “One -didn’t know how far things were going; and it’s hard to realise you -grown up. After all, you’re only nineteen, Jim, lad, and for all that I -know, you are capable of doing a man’s work, to my mind soldiering -demands an extra degree of toughness, if a fellow is to be of real use. -Still, as you say, much younger boys are going; I won’t ask you again to -stay. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to ask you in the beginning. I was doubtful -in my own mind; but I had to be sure there was real need.” - -“And are you satisfied now?” - -“Oh, yes. There isn’t any room for further doubt. Every day brings -evidence of what the job is going to be—the biggest the Empire ever had -to tackle. And the cry from Belgium comes home to every decent man. I’d -rather go myself than send you; but as I said, I’m glad you don’t want -to stay.” - -“Then that’s all right,” Jim said, with a mighty sigh of relief. “You -don’t know what a weight it is off my mind, Dad. I’ve hated to seem a -beast over it, and you know I always go by your judgment. But somehow I -knew you’d have to think differently yourself. Why, great Scott! I -couldn’t face you and Norah, in ten years, if I had stayed at home!” - -“No; and I couldn’t face you if I had been the one to keep you,” said -his father. “So that is settled. But there are other things to settle as -well.” - -“Rather!” said Jim. “I wonder, can I get into the first contingent, or -if I’ll have to wait for the second.” - -His father paused before replying. - -“There is something else, altogether,” he said at length. “My own plans -seem on the verge of an upheaval, just now.” - -“Yours? Nothing wrong, is there, Dad?” - -“Nothing in the main. But you know I’ve been bothered for some weeks -over that business of the English property your uncle Andrew left me. -There is a lot of complicated detail that would take me a week to -explain—it’s all in the lawyer’s letters over there, if you’d care to -go through them. (“Not me!” from Jim, hurriedly.) Some of it ought to be -sold, and some apparently can’t be sold just now, and there are -decisions to be made, at which it’s almost impossible for me to arrive, -with letters alone to go upon. Last week’s English mail left me in a -state of complete uncertainty as to what I ought to do about it.” - -“And has to-day’s mail straightened out matters at all?” - -“Well—it has,” said Mr. Linton, with a wry smile. “I can’t say it has -exactly eased my mind, but at least the letters have made one thing -abundantly clear, which is that the business cannot be settled from -Australia. I’m needed on the spot. As far as I can see, there is no way -out of it; I’ll have to go home.” - -“Go to England!” - -“Yes.” - -“But,” Jim was on his feet, his face radiant. “Why, you’ll be there when -I’m in France—we might come home together! How ripping, Dad! When would -you go?” - -“Very soon, I think.” - -Jim sat down, the flash of joy suddenly dying away. - -“Dad—what about Norah?” - -“I wish I knew,” said his father, uneasily. “I could leave her at -school, of course; and she has always invitations enough for twice as -many holidays as are in the year. But she won’t like it, poor little -girl. It would be bad enough if only one of us were going; as it is, she -will feel that the bottom has dropped out of the universe.” - -“I can’t see us leaving her,” Jim said. “Why not take her with you?” - -“Why, I don’t even know if it’s safe,” said his father, his brow -knitted. “The voyage is a certain risk; and who knows what will be the -conditions in England? I can’t run the child into danger.” - -“If Germany wins you may not be able to keep her out of it,” Jim -answered. “One thing is certain—Norah would rather be in danger with -you than feel that you were running risks and leaving her in safety. I -think it would break her heart to be left here alone.” - -“I’ve been turning it backwards and forwards in my mind for a -fortnight,” said the father. “I felt that the time was coming to give -you a free hand: and then, on top of that, came this complication.” He -laughed a little. “Life has been too easy for me, Jim: I’m not used to -big decisions.” - -“Well, I am a beast,” said Jim, frankly. “I’ve been chewing over my own -disappointment; and about the worst part of it was that I got hold of -the idea that you had put it right out of your mind, and that you didn’t -care. I wish I had known you were up to your eyes in worry. But you -never let us suspect a thing.” - -“Well, I kept hoping against hope that each mail would straighten things -out,” his father answered. “Until I was certain I did not want to cast -any shadows on Norah’s holidays. Poor little lass; she’ll have trouble -in earnest now.” - -“Well, Nor will face it,” Jim said, confidently. “She isn’t made of the -stuff that caves in—and as far as I’m concerned, Dad, she wants me to -go. She knew I’d only eat my heart out if I didn’t. But to have you go -away is another matter. Don’t you think you can take her?” - -“If I were sure England would be safe . . .” mused Mr. Linton. “You can -be very certain I don’t want to leave her.” - -“Well, I don’t think there’s much risk for England,” said Jim, with the -cheerful optimism of youth. “And anyhow, there’s always America—you and -she could slip across there if there were any real fear of invasion. My -word, Dad, it would be grand to think you and Nor were so near. Just -think if I got wounded, how jolly it would be to come over to you!” - -“I’ve thought,” said his father, drily. The jollity of the idea seemed -to him slightly exaggerated. - -“Well, it would be heaps better than hospital. And then we’d all be -together after the finish, and do London. It would be such a lark. Fancy -old Norah in Piccadilly!” - -“Me?” asked a startled voice. - -Norah stood in the doorway, with Wally behind her. She had exchanged her -riding-habit for a soft white frock, and her brown curls, released from -their tight plait, fell softly round her face. No one would have dreamed -of calling her pretty; but there was an indefinable charm in the merry -face, lit by straight grey eyes. She was tall for her age; people found -it difficult to believe that she was not yet sixteen, for she had left -the awkward age behind her, and there was unstudied grace in the -slender, alert form, with its well-shaped hands and feet. -Occasionally—when she was not too busy—Norah had fleeting moments of -regret, mainly on account of her men-folk, that she was not pretty. But -it is doubtful if her father and brother would have cared to change a -feature of the vivid face. - -“Did you say Piccadilly? And me?” she asked, advancing into a startled -silence. “I’ve always imagined Piccadilly must be rather worse than -Collins Street, and I don’t fit in there a bit. Stella Harrison says -there are rather jolly motor-busses there, and you can get on top. That -wouldn’t be so bad.” She perched on the arm of her father’s chair. “Why -are you talking about streets, Daddy? You know you don’t like them any -more than I do.” - -“No,” said David Linton, finding that some answer was expected of him. -Something in his tone brought Norah’s eyes upon him quickly. - -“There’s something wrong, isn’t there?” she asked. - -No one spoke for a moment. Then Wally got up quietly and moved towards -the door. - -“Don’t go, Wally, my boy,” Mr. Linton said. “You’re so much one of the -family that you may as well join the family councils. No, there’s -nothing exactly wrong, Norah. But there are happenings.” - -“Jim’s going?” said Norah, quickly. Her keen eyes saw that the new and -unfamiliar shadow had lifted from her brother’s face. Jim nodded, -smiling at her. - -“Yes, I’m going. Dad says it’s all right.” - -Norah drew a long breath, and Wally gave an irrepressible whistle of -delight. - -“Lucky dog—I’m so glad!” he cried. “Oh, why can’t I be eighteen!” - -“There will be plenty of fighting after you are eighteen,” Mr. Linton -said. “This isn’t going to be any lightning business. But that’s not -all, Norah. Your old father has to pack up, too. I must go to England.” - -“Daddy! You!” - -The voice was a cry. Then Norah shut her lips tightly, and said nothing -more, looking at her father. - -“It’s business,” he said hurriedly. “I don’t want to go, my girl. It may -not take me long.” - -There was a long pause. - -“I can’t ask to go,” said Norah at last, rather breathlessly. “It’s too -big a thing—not like a trip to Melbourne or Sydney. I know it would -cost a fearful lot of money—and there are other things. It’s—it’s all -right, Daddy, if you say so—only I want to know. Have I got to stay -behind?” - -There was no answer. Jim was watching the set, childish face pitifully, -longing to help, and powerless. Norah got up from the arm of her -father’s chair at length, and turned her face away. - -“It’s—it’s quite all right, Daddy,” she said, unsteadily. “I -understand. Don’t go worrying.” - -“Worrying!” said David Linton, explosively. “No, I’m not going to -worry—if I can help it: and I’m not going to leave you, either. We’ll -stick together, little mate.” - -“Daddy!” said Norah, very low. She went to him like a little child, and -he put her on his knee, one arm round her, while Jim beamed on them -both. - -“I knew you couldn’t do it,” he said laughing. “It was so altogether -ridiculous to think of old Nor here alone, and you and me at the other -side of the world. Things like that simply can’t occur!” - -“Well—there may be danger” began his father. - -“There would be strong danger of my losing my few wits if you did it,” -Norah said. “I thought I was going to lose them a minute ago, as it was. -Oh, Daddy won’t it be lovely! Think of the ship—and the queer -ports—and England! It’s the most wonderful thing that ever happened. -And we’ll be near Jim, and he’ll get leave and come over to see us!” - -“That’s another thing,” Mr. Linton said. “It’s settled that you’re to -enlist, Jim; that matter is decided. But is there any particular reason -why you should enlist in Australia?” - -“In Australia?” repeated Jim, blankly. “Why—where else?” - -“Well, if Norah and I are going home, why should we not all go together? -You would have no difficulty in joining the Army in England, if boys of -sixteen are getting commissions there.” - -“_What?_” burst from Wally. - -“Oh, yes—you’d be quite a veteran, judging by to-day’s news, Wally,” -said Mr. Linton, laughing. “There would be no difficulty at all, I -should think, Jim; I know enough people in London to pull a few strings, -though even that would hardly be necessary. But if you wanted a -commission I should think it could be managed. It would leave us all -together a bit longer.” - -“That would be ripping,” Jim said, doubtfully. “I don’t know, though; -I’m an Australian, and I rather think Australians ought to stick -together. And I would know such a lot of the fellows in our own -contingent.” - -“That counts, of course,” said his father. “But there’s another point; -there are rumours that our men may not be sent direct to the Front. You -might get hung up in Egypt, or the Persian Gulf, or Malta; I’ve heard -suggestions that the Australians should even be used for garrison duty -in India.” - -“By Jove!” said Jim. “I wouldn’t like that.” - -“No; and it would mean that you might never get to England at all, to -join Norah and me after the show. If you’re going, I don’t want you to -be shelved in some out-of-the-way corner of the earth; I’d like you to -have your chance.” - -“Oh, Jimmy, come with us!” said Norah. “Just think how jolly it would -be—not like the voyage in a horrid old troopship, where you mightn’t be -allowed to see a single port. And perhaps we’d be together quite a lot -in England, before you were sent to the Front.” - -Wally jumped up with such emphasis that his chair fell over backwards. -He did not notice it. - -“Let’s all go!” he cried. - -Three pairs of eyes turned upon him for information. - -“If it’s really true that boys younger than I am are being taken in -England, I’d have a chance, wouldn’t I, Mr. Linton?” - -“I suppose you would—yes, of course, my boy. You’re only a year younger -than Jim, aren’t you?” - -“Yes—and he knows as much drill as I do, to say nothing of shooting and -riding,” Jim exclaimed. “Would you come, Wal?” - -“I should just think I would!” Wally uttered. “But you’d have to join in -England, Jim—not here.” - -“But your guardian—and your brothers, Wally. Would they be willing?” -Mr. Linton asked. “It’s rather an undertaking to arrange off-hand. And -it would mean your leaving school.” - -“I know it would be all right, sir,” Wally answered. “My brothers were -only sorry I couldn’t get into the first contingent; and old Mr. -Dimsdale never worries his head about me, except to look after the -property and send me my allowance. He knows I’m to join as soon as I -can. The money part of it would be all right; I don’t know much about -it, but the money that’s to come to me has been accumulating since I was -a kid, and there must be plenty. If you’d let me go under your wing, -nobody would think of objecting.” He stopped, his brown, eager face -flushing. “By Jove, you must think me awfully cool, sir. I sort of took -it for granted I could go with you!” - -“Well, you old goat!” said Jim, disgustedly. David Linton laughed. - -“My dear boy, I think you’re pretty well established as one of the -family,” he said. “You have been Jim’s chum for five years, and somehow -we’ve come to regard Billabong as your home. I have liked to think you -felt that way about it, yourself.” - -“It’s the only real home I ever remember,” said Wally, still greatly -confused. “And you’ve all been such bricks to me. I’ve quite forgotten -I’m really a sort of lost dog.” - -“It’s rude to say you’re a lost dog, when you belong to Billabong,” said -Norah solemnly, though her eyes were dancing. “Isn’t he talking a lot of -nonsense, Dad?—and this is much too exciting an evening to waste any -time. I wish someone would sort me out, for I’m all mixed-up in my mind. -We’re going to England, you and I, Dad.” - -“And me,” said Wally, cheerfully disregarding grammar. - -“And me, I suppose,” Jim followed. “If you think I’ve as good a chance -there, Dad?” - -“Better, I should think—judging from the rush of men here,” said his -father. - -“Then we’re all going,” finished Norah blissfully. “In a ’normously -large ship, Dad?” - -“Most certainly,” said David Linton, hastily. “I came out forty years -ago in a five-hundred tonner, and I’ve no desire to repeat the -experience. We’re built on lines that demand space, we Lintons.” - -“And when we get to London?” - -“We’ll settle down somewhere—where we can be near the boys until they -are sent out to the Front, and I can attend to business.” - -“And then——?” - -“We’ll wander about a bit until they come back to us. If it’s likely to -be long, you’ll have to resume your neglected education, young woman,” -said her father severely. - -“M’f!” said Norah, wrinkling her nose. “How unpleasant!—that’s the -first dismal thing you’ve said, Daddy. But I suppose one has to take the -powder with the jam. And after the war——?” - -“Oh, after the war——” said David Linton; and fell silent, looking at -his son. - -“After the war,” said Wally, happily, “we’ll all meet in London, and see -the Kaiser led in triumph down Piccadilly. My own preference leads me to -hope that it will be on a donkey with his face towards the tail of the -ass, but I’m sadly afraid the world has grown too civilised.” - -“Well, you can’t call him and his crowd civilised, anyhow,” Jim said. - -“No. But we’ll have to be, I suppose, to show how nicely we were brought -up. Anyhow, after that we’ll explore all the things we’ve always wanted -to see—London, and Stonehenge, and the Dublin Horse Show, and -Killarney, and David Balfour’s country, and heathery moors, and the -Derby, and punts on the Thames, and the Dartmoor ponies, and——” -Wally’s extraordinary mixture left him breathless, but the others took -up the tale. - -“And English lanes——” - -“And ruins—truly ruins——!” - -“And old castles——” - -“And woods and hedges——” - -“And real hunting country——” - -“And real hunts——!” - -“And trout-streams——” - -“And Irish loughs——” - -“And then,” said Norah, as the dinner-gong clashed out its -summons,—“then——” - -“If we’ve any money left!” put in her father. - -“Or even if we haven’t,” said Norah, and smiled at him—“we’ll go back -to Billabong!” - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - - OF A CHESTNUT BABY. - -“DO you know where Mr. Jim is, Murty?” - -David Linton had just ridden into the stable-yard. It was midday, and -though the night had been frosty, the sun was so warm that the master of -Billabong was in his shirt-sleeves, his coat laid across the saddle -before him. He swung himself to the ground as the head stockman came -across to take his horse. - -“At the stockyard, he is,” said Murty O’Toole. “Miss Norah and Mr. Wally -too, sir; they’re handling the new chestnut colt, and it’s the fun of -the world he’s been giving them. Mr. Jim had to lasso him before he -could so much as lay a hand on him, but he’s goin’ nice and aisy now. -Still in all, Mr. Jim’ll have his own troubles when he comes to ride -that one; sure, he’d kick the eye out of a mosquito.” - -“Has he saddled him yet?” - -“Oh, yes; he’s been under the saddle these three hours,” Murty answered. -“Mr. Jim hasn’t been on him, of course; he believes in walkin’ a young -one round quiet and pleasant, to let him get used to the feel of the -leather. ’Twas as good as a circus to see him when they girthed him up; -he went to market good and plenty, and did his level best to buck -himself clean out of the saddle. He’s the cheerfullest colt ever I -seen.” Mr. O’Toole grinned at the recollection. “But he’s got his aiqual -in Mr. Jim.” - -“I’ll go down and have a look at them,” the squatter said. “Put Monarch -in a loose-box and give him a feed, Murty; I may want him again.” He -slipped on his coat and strode out of the yard as the stockman led the -great black horse into the cool dimness of the stables. - -The stockyards of an Australian station form a very important part of -its working establishment. A big “run” may have several sets of yards to -save the trouble of driving stock far on any direction; but the main -yards are always near the homestead—sometimes, indeed, a great deal too -near. The yards at Billabong, however, did not err in this respect, -being planned in a secluded corner whence they opened upon two paddocks. -A belt of dwarfed gum-trees surrounded and shaded them; and beyond this -shelter a little lucerne-field led to the kitchen-garden and orchard, so -that the house itself was screened completely, and no dust could drift -to it, even when, on a big mustering day, the bullocks had trodden every -inch of the earth of the yards into fine powder. - -To an unaccustomed eye they presented a somewhat bewildering array of -fencing. They were completely surrounded by a very high fence of red-gum -slabs, laid horizontally and very close together, and finished at the -top by a heavy, rounded cap of wood, bolted to the top of the massive -posts, and forming an unbroken ring. This fence was calculated to -withstand the rush of the maddest bullock, infuriated by the indignities -of mustering; and at the same time, being easily climbed, formed a -refuge in case of an animal charging a man on foot. The cap, broad and -smooth, formed a pleasant place from which to watch the exciting -manœuvres below; Norah had spent many a cheerful hour perched upon it. - -Within the great ring-fence the space was divided into many enclosures, -large and small; from the big general yard, capable of holding a mob of -bullocks, to small calf-yards, where newly-branded babies were wont to -bleat distressfully for their anxious mothers—little dreaming that -within a very few days they would have forgotten all about them, in the -joy of a wide run, new grass and youthful light-heartedness. A long -race, just wide enough for a single bullock, led from the main enclosure -to the drafting-yards. A gate at its further end worked on a pivot; -Norah loved to watch her father stand at it as the big-horned cattle -came down the narrow lane in single file, turning the gate with a -movement of his supple wrist so that some bullocks were ushered into one -yard and some into another, according to their class. A man needed a -quick eye and hand, and keen judgment, to be able to work the -drafting-gate when the bullocks were stringing quickly down the race, -the nose of one beast almost touching the tail of the one in front of -him. Sometimes two or three of a kind came down in succession, all bound -for the same yard, and then the task seemed easy; but often they -alternated, and the gate had to go backwards and forwards so quickly -that either the tail of the yarded bullock or the nose of his successor -was apt to suffer. Branding was done through the rails fencing the race; -a brick oven was built beside it, for heating the irons. But this was -one of the details at which Norah did not preside. On branding days she -preferred to mount her special pony, Bosun, and go for long solitary -rides along the bends of the river, or across plains where an occasional -hare gave excuse for a gallop. - -Altogether, the Billabong yards were the pride of its stockmen, and the -cause of deep envy in men from neighbouring stations. Too often, yards -are make-shift erections, hastily run up out of any timber that may be -handiest, and generally awaiting a day of re-planning and re-building -that never comes. But David Linton believed in perfecting the working -details of his run; and his yards were well and solidly built, planned -on a generous scale that gave accommodation for every class of cattle, -and equipped with gates which, despite their massive strength, were so -excellently hung that a touch closed them, and only another touch was -needed to send home a solid catch. Once the owner of Billabong had seen -a man killed, through a gate too stiff to shut quickly before a maddened -bullock’s charge; and as he helped to rescue the poor, broken body he -had vowed that no man of his own should ever run a needless risk through -neglect on his part. - -Black Billy was cutting lucerne for fodder as the squatter passed -through the little paddock. He turned on him a dusky face full of -ludicrous unhappiness. The black fellow of Australia takes kindly to no -work that does not include horses; it was gall and wormwood to Billy to -be chained to an uncongenial task almost within a stone’s throw of the -breaking-yard, through the high fence of which he could catch glimpses -of a chestnut coat and hear voices raised in quick interest. He hewed -viciously at the tough lucerne stems. - -“That pfeller him buck plenty, mine thinkit,” he vouchsafed to his -employer. - -“Master Jim bin ride him, Billy?” - -“Baal—not yet. Lucerne plenty enough cut, eh, boss?” - -David Linton laughed outright at the wistful face. - -“If I say it’s enough, what’s the next job, Billy.” - -“Mine thinkit Master Jim him pretty likely want a hand with that pfeller -chestnut,” said Billy eagerly. - -“Oh, do you?—I thought so,” said his master. “All right, Billy—cut -along; but don’t get in Master Jim’s way. He’ll call you if he wants -you.” - -“Plenty!” said Billy, thankfully, and fled towards the yards like a -black comet. He was already perched on the cap, a grinning vision of -joy, when Mr. Linton arrived on the scene, and swung himself up beside -Norah. - -The big mustering yard was empty save for Jim and his pupil—a beautiful -chestnut colt, rather dark in colour, and with no mark save a white -star. He was fully saddled and bridled, with the stirrups removed from -the saddle and the reins tied loosely back, while in addition to the -bit, bore a pair of long driving reins by which Jim was guiding him -round and round the yard. It was evident that the colt was not happy. -His rough coat was streaked with dark sweat and flecked with foam, and, -though he went quietly enough his eye was wild, and showed more than a -glimpse of white. - -“Hallo, Dad!” sang out Jim cheerfully. The colt executed a nervous bound -and broke jerkily into a canter. - -“Steady there, you old stupid,” said Jim, affectionately, bringing his -pupil back to a walk with a gentle strain on the bit. “He has a curious -dislike to the human voice if it’s raised, Dad; and as we can’t expect -everyone to whisper for his benefit, the sooner he gets over it, the -better. What do you think of him?” - -“He’ll make a good horse,” said his father, surveying the colt -critically. “A bit leggy now, but he’ll mend of that. How is he going, -Jim?” - -“Oh, he’s quiet enough; a bit nervous, but I don’t think there’s any -vice in him,” Jim answered. “At present he is exactly like a frightened -kid, but he’s calming down. I drove him, without a saddle on, most of -yesterday, and he graduated to the saddle this morning—and at first I -think he thought it was the end of the world. He’ll make a topping good -hack, Dad.” - -“Better than Garryowen?” came from Norah. - -“Better than your grandmother!” retorted Jim, to whom his own steed -represented all that was perfection in horseflesh. “Better than your old -crock, Bosun, if you like!” Which insult, Norah, who knew his private -opinion of her pony, received with a tilted nose and otherwise unruffled -calm. - -“When do you think of riding him?” asked Mr. Linton. - -“Oh, I’ll get on him this afternoon,” Jim answered. “It’s getting near -lunch-time; and it won’t do him any harm to have another hour or so -getting used to the feel of the leather, and the creak thereof—which is -the part he dislikes. I’m not anxious to scare him by mounting him too -soon. At present he is gradually realising that I’m a friendly beast; -for a good while he was certain I meant to kill him.” - -Mr. Linton nodded. - -“Quite right—I don’t believe in hurrying a nervous young horse,” he -said. “Scare him at first and he is apt to remain scared. I’m glad -you’re taking him quietly. He will be up to my weight when he fills out, -Jim, don’t you think?” - -“Oh, easily,” Jim answered. “When we get back from England you’ll find -him just about right; we’ll get Murty to keep him for his own use while -we’re away. I don’t want him hacked about by any man who chooses; he is -quite the best of this year’s lot.” He shook the reins very gently, and -addressed the colt in friendly fashion. “Get on, old man.” - -The chestnut broke into an uneasy jog, which his driver had some little -difficulty in reducing to a sober walk. He went with sidling steps, -hugging the fence as much as possible, as if longing for the space and -freedom of the paddocks outside. The corners of the yard had been -rounded off, so that he could not indulge his evident inclination to put -himself as far as possible into one and dream of his lost youth. It was -just a little hard on him—last week all he had known of life was the -wild bush paddocks on the outer fringe of Billabong run, where there was -good galloping ground for him and his mates on the rough plains, and -deep belts of timber to shelter them from the hot noonday sun or the -frosty nights of winter. Then had come a time of mad excitement. Men and -dogs had invaded their peaceful solitudes, and the hills had echoed all -day to shouts and barking and the clear cracks of stockwhips, that ran -round the hills like a fusillade of rifle shots. It was all very -alarming and disturbing. At first the young horses had been inclined to -treat it as a joke, but they soon found that for them it had a more -serious meaning, that gradually they were being surrounded and edged out -of the timber to the open plain, that they had not even time to eat, and -that the deepest recesses of the hills and creeks formed no secure -hiding-place from their pursuers. - -Then they grew afraid for the first time. They galloped hither and -thither wildly, to the great annoyance of the men, who had no wish to -see valuable young horses hurt or blemished by running into a tree or -under a low-growing limb, in these wild rushes through the scrub. They -tried to drive them as quietly as possible; but the horses thought they -knew far too much for that, and before they were finally mustered there -had been racing and chasing that had brought much secret and unlawful -joy to Jim and Norah and Wally, but no little anxiety to the owner of -the run. No great damage, however, had been done; gradually all the wild -youngsters had been driven out of the timbered country, hustled through -the gate that effectually barred them from such shelter in the future, -and brought to the homestead through a succession of peaceful paddocks, -peopled with sleek cattle almost too lazy to move aside for the drove of -uneasy horses. The home paddock had received them at last; and then -every day saw them driven up to the yards, where they were left for a -few hours so that they might grow accustomed to being close to -civilisation, and to the sound of the human voice. One by one they -dropped out; a youngster would be edged away from his mates into a -little yard, presently to find himself alone when the main mob was let -out to go galloping down the hill to freedom. Then real education began; -education that meant bit and bridle and saddle, and the knowledge that -the strange new creature called Man was master and meant to remain so. - -Jim had kept the chestnut colt for his own tuition. Mick Shanahan, chief -horsebreaker of Billabong for many a year, had gone to the war; and -though every man on the station had a settled conviction of his own -ability to break horses, Jim and his father did not, in every instance, -share the belief. The chestnut was too good to be given to any -chance-comer to handle. Most of the youngsters were destined for use as -stock-horses, and might as well be handed over to the men who were to -ride them in their work; but not this well-bred baby “with the spirit of -fire and of dew,” and with all his nerves jangling from the indignity of -being made a prisoner. Jim had been carefully trained in Mick Shanahan’s -methods; besides which, he had a natural comprehension of horses, and a -rooted dislike of rough-and-ready ways of breaking-in. There was -something in the strong gentleness of the big fellow that soothed a -young horse unconsciously. - -He pulled up the chestnut after a few turns round the yard, and -proceeded, as he said, to talk to him, speaking in a low voice while he -handled him quietly, stroking him all over. The colt, nervous for a -moment, soon settled down under the gentle voice and hand; and so found -the bit which he had champed indignantly all the morning, slipped out of -his mouth, and an easy-fitting halter on his head. Then came Norah, at -whom he was inclined to start back, until he remembered that he had met -her twice before, that she also was a person who moved quietly and had -an understanding touch, and that she always carried a milk-thistle—an -article delicious at all times, but especially soothing to a tired -mouth, hot and sore after even the broad, easy bit Jim always used. -Norah said pleasant things to him and stroked his nose while he munched -the cool, juicy thistle; and then he was led to a bucket, in itself a -very alarming object, until he found that it held water which tasted -just as good as creek water. After that he was tied up to the fence and -left to his own reflections, while the humans who were causing him so -much uneasiness of mind went away, apparently that they might seek -milk-thistles on their own account. - -It was nearly a week since the momentous decision to go to England; and -while the life of the station had apparently pursued its ordinary -course, in reality preparations had gone forward swiftly. To Brownie the -news had been broken gently, with the result that for twenty-four hours -the poor old woman had been thrown into a condition of stupefied dismay; -then, rallying herself, with caustic remarks directed inwardly on “women -who hadn’t no more sense than a black-beetle,” she set herself to -overhaul the various wardrobes of the family with a view to the -exigencies of foreign travel. Brownie’s ideas as to what was necessary -for a long voyage were remarkably vast, and included detailed -preparations for every phase of climate, from Antarctic to Equatorial. -Mr. Linton had finally interfered at a stage when it appeared probable -that it would be needful to charter a whole ship to convey the family -baggage, and had referred the question of Norah’s outfit to an aunt in -Melbourne who was well skilled in providing for damsels of fifteen. - -Wally had written slightly delirious letters to his guardian and his -brothers in far-off Queensland, and was impatiently awaiting replies, in -much agony of mind lest these should not come in time to prevent his -going back to school. The end of the holidays was fast approaching; -unless within a very few days permission came for him to accompany Mr. -Linton’s party to England he must pack up and return meekly to -class-room and playground—a hard prospect for a boy whose head fairly -seethed with war, while his pockets bulged with drill-books. His -ordinary sunny temperament had almost vanished as he wavered from day to -day between hope and despair. To go back would be bad enough in any -case; but to go back when his one chum was about to gain their hearts’ -desire, taking away with him all that meant real home to the orphan lad, -was a sentence worse than banishment. Jim and Norah, themselves torn -with anxiety as to his fate, endeavoured to cheer him by every means in -their power; but Wally watched for the mails anxiously, and refused -comfort. - -The question of a suitable ship was causing Mr. Linton no small -perplexity. He disliked the heat of the Suez Canal route, and wished to -go by South Africa; but although it was possible to decide upon a ship, -and even to engage cabins, embarking was quite another matter, since any -vessel was liable to Government seizure as a transport for troops. No -firm of agents could guarantee the sailing of a ship. The Government was -hard-pressed to find transports for the thousands of men and horses that -Australia was hastily preparing to despatch to the mother-country’s aid; -and many a big “floating hotel” was commandeered within a very short -time of her sailing and transformed by a horde of carpenters into a -troopship—losing her name and identity and becoming a mere number. No -one grumbled; it was war, and war meant business. But undoubtedly it -increased the difficulty of going to England, and daily Mr. Linton -knitted his brows over worried letters from shipping agents extremely -anxious to have the conveyance of so large a party to England, but quite -unable to offer a sailing date. - -Jim, meanwhile, was preparing methodically for a long absence. Under -Murty O’Toole the work of the station could be trusted to go steadily -forward, agents being entrusted with the buying and selling of stock. -But there were a hundred threads that Jim kept ordinarily in his own -hands and which, it was necessary to adjust carefully before he gave up -his work. It had been the boy’s ambition to be indispensable to his -father. From the day he had left school he had worked for that end, -succeeding so far that David Linton, understanding and appreciating his -efforts, had gradually put more and more responsibility into his hands, -discussing the management of the run with him, and treating him in all -ways more as a man of his own age than as a boy newly released from -school. Jim was not new to the work, and he loved it; instinctively he -fell into step with his father, profiting by his experience, and -learning every day. “Mr. Jim’s put his mark on Billabong,” Murty said, -ruefully to Mrs. Brown. “’Twill not be an aisy matter to rub out that -same.” - -For Norah the days went by like a dream. The even current of her life, -that had known no break but school, was suddenly rudely disturbed. A -prospect was opening before her, so vast that she was almost afraid of -it. To every Australian whose parents are British-born, the old land -overseas is always “home.” From childhood the desire grows to see it—to -go back over the old tracks our parents trod, to visit the spots they -knew, and to enjoy the share that belongs to us, as atoms of Empire, of -its beauty and its tradition. It is ours, even though we be born at the -other side of the world; “home”—and one day we shall go to see it. But -when the day comes, even if we are older than Norah, we are very often a -little afraid. - -Norah was torn in more than one way. To go to England! that was -beautiful, and wonderful, and mysterious; to go with Dad and Jim, and -possibly Wally, who was almost as good as Jim, made the prospect in some -way an unmixed delight. There would be the voyage, itself a storehouse -of marvels to the little girl from the Bush; strange ports, queer people -such as she had never seen, famous sights of which she had heard all her -life, scarcely realising that she would ever see them. A voyage, too, -with a spice of danger; there were German cruisers in the way, only too -anxious to sink a fat Australian liner. It was easier to realise the -excitement than the risk, at all events for people under twenty; and -Norah and Jim were not quite certain that the appearance of a hostile -warship might not add the last pleasing touch of exhilaration. - -There was, however, another side to the picture. There was War, grim and -terrible, and scarcely to be comprehended; it threatened to grip Jim and -take him away, to unknown and dreadful dangers. But War was very far -off, and that Jim should not come through it safely was simply not a -thing to be imagined; besides which, many people thought it would be all -over in a very few months—an idea which caused Jim and Wally acute -uneasiness. They had no desire for “the show” to be finished before they -arrived to take a hand. - -Then there was Billabong; and at the thought of leaving that dearest -place in the world, Norah’s heart used to sink within her. Each time she -caught sight of Brownie’s face unawares a fresh pang smote her. Brownie -was playing the game manfully, and wore in public an air of laboured -cheerfulness that would not have deceived a baby; but when she fancied -no eye was upon her, the mask slipped off, and her old face grew haggard -with the knowledge of all that the coming parting meant to her. Norah -had never known her mother. Brownie had taken her, a helpless mite, from -the arms that were too weak to hold her any more; and since that day she -had striven that the baby the little mistress had left to her care -should never realise all she had lost. - -Norah did not realise it at all. Her life had not led her much among -girls with mothers, though she knew instinctively that they were lucky -girls, it was beyond her power to think herself unlucky. For she had -always had Billabong, and Jim, and Dad: Dad, who was splendid above all -people, being father, and mother, and mate in one. She did not miss -anything, because she did not fully understand. Brownie had been always -at hand to supply a kind of mothering that had seemed to Norah very -effective; and Norah paid her back with a wealth of hearty young -affection that made the old woman’s chief joy on earth. Now her nursling -was going out of her life, so far that her imagination could not follow -her, and unknown dangers would be in her path. They were hard days for -Brownie; and Norah, knowing just how hard they were, was heavy-hearted -herself at the sight of the brave old face. - -Nor was it easy to leave Billabong itself, seeing that no place could -possibly be so good in Norah’s eyes. Home had always spelt perfection to -her; and its simple, free life—the outdoor life of the Bush, with dogs -and horses a part of one’s daily existence, the work of the station -better than any game ever invented, and always the sense that one was -helping—surely there could be nothing better. If there were, it was -beyond the imagination of the daughter of the Bush. So, notwithstanding -the fascination of their future plans, Norah clung to each day that was -left to her of Billabong, and tried to act as though England were as dim -and misty a prospect as it had always been. - -Wally ate his lunch with a sober air that sat queerly on his usually -merry face. The mail, to which he had been eagerly looking forward, had -not arrived; but there was a telephone message from the newspaper office -in Cunjee, the nearest township, giving more particulars of the fierce -fighting of the early days of the war, and of Great Britain’s insistent -call for recruits. The first Australian contingent of twenty thousand -men was reported ready to go; there were rumours more or less vague, of -warships, British, Japanese, and French, waiting at various ports in -each state, to convoy the troopships; but these were only rumours, for -the newspapers were not allowed to publish any information that might -possibly be utilised by German spies—one of whom was said to have been -caught at his pretty seaside home, near Port Phillip Heads, with an -excellently equipped wireless in action. Every one was on the watch, and -suspicious characters found themselves of unpleasant interest to the -police. Small boys in the cities constituted themselves detectives and -“shadowed” unfortunate and inoffensive people whose names chanced to -sound “foreign,” on the principle that anything foreign might be German, -and anything German was to be severely dealt with. Altogether, there was -much excitement; and the station book-keeper, who had taken the -telephone message, declared his intention of enlisting. - -“Another item to be replaced before I can go,” said Mr. Linton, a trifle -ruefully. “And Green knows his work, which is more than one can say for -most book-keepers. Still, I’m glad he’s going. He’s young and strong, -and has no ties; and no man with those qualifications has any right to -be rounding his shoulders over station ledgers nowadays.” - -“He can’t ride for nuts,” said Wally, despondently, “and as for -shooting—well, did you ever see him try? It’s awfully risky for anyone -who goes out with him, but very safe for the game.” - -“Oh, he’ll learn,” Mr. Linton said. “He needn’t ride—and shooting can -be taught. Why this sudden outburst against poor Green, Wally?” - -Wally looked abashed. - -“I didn’t mean to run Green down,” he explained. “He’ll be all right, -sir, of course. I only meant it was hard luck to think they’ll take him, -and they won’t take me—and I’m partly trained, at any rate. Silly -asses! I’ve been wondering if I got a false moustache—a very little -one, of course—would I pass for twenty, do you think?” - -The Linton family shouted with joy. - -“Oh, do, Wally!” Norah begged. “It would drop off in the riding tests, -and everyone would be so interested.” - -“Great idea,” Jim said. “But why a little one, old man? You might as -well have one with a good curl—and a pair of side whiskers of the -drooping variety. They’d lend a heap of dignity to your expression.” - -“Get out!” said the victim, sheepishly. “All very well for you to -jibe—you’re certain of going just because you’re older. And goodness -knows you haven’t half as much sense!”—modestly. “Wait till you get -into a regiment at home and they give you a platoon to handle, and see -you tie it into knots!” - -“Well, you’ll be somewhere handy to take some of the colonel’s wrath,” -said Jim, comfortably. - -“Wish I were sure of it,” Wally answered, his face falling. “I can’t -make out why they don’t write; Edward may be up country, but there’s -been quite time to get an answer from that blessed old slowcoach, Mr. -Dimsdale. He said he was sorry I couldn’t get into the contingent, but -he’s quite likely to change his mind now that I’ve really a chance. -Guardians are like that!” And Wally, whose chief experience of his -guardian had been occasional glimpses of a benevolent old gentleman who -paid his bills promptly and tipped him twice a year, sighed as though -his youth had been one long persecution. - -“Oh, he’ll be quite meek, you’ll see,” said Jim. “Give them -time—Queensland is a long way from Billabong. We’re not going without -you, if we have to kidnap you, old man.” He rose from the table. “I must -get back to my patient; I expect he thinks he’s had enough -post-and-rails by now.” - -The chestnut colt was looking sleepy, as though a post-and-rail diet had -a sedative effect. He backed and snorted as Jim came up to him, and Jim -stopped and talked to him soothingly until he was quiet enough not to -resent a caressing hand on his neck, and presently the bridle slipped on -so gently that he scarcely noticed it. - -“Good lad,” said Jim. “Come and hold his head, Wally, while I tighten up -the girths.” - -Wally came, and the broad, soft leather girth was adjusted deftly, the -colt making no further protest than to walk round several times. Jim ran -his eye over him. - -“That’s all right,” he said. “Take care, old man, in case he goes to -market.” - -Suddenly, quickly, but quietly, he was in the saddle, and his feet home -in the stirrups. The colt stood stock-still, apparently petrified with -astonishment. Wally took himself unobtrusively out of the way, joining -Mr. Linton and Norah on the cap of the fence. - -Jim leaned forward, patting the colt. - -“Go on, stupid.” He touched the chestnut neck gently with the rein, and -the colt took a few uncertain steps forward, coming to a standstill in -bewilderment. The watchers on the fence were very quiet. Behind Jim two -new faces appeared, as Murty O’Toole and Black Billy climbed to good -positions. - -“Baal that pfeller him goin’ to buck, mine thinkit,” said Billy, in low -tones of disappointment. “Him get walk about too much.” - -“You let Mr. Jim alone, you black image of a haythen,” said Mr. O’Toole, -affably. “Think you can teach him how to break in a horse?” - -“Not much,” said Billy, accepting the epithet and the criticism -cheerfully. “But mine like ’em buck—plenty! Wish Master Jim him wear -spurs.” - -“Spurs—on that chestnut baby!” ejaculated Murty, in subdued accents of -horror. “Is it to butcher him ye’d like, then? Sure ye think every horse -needs as much encouragement as y’r old Bung-Eye. Sorra the horse I’d -give you to break, barring it was a camel; I’m told them needs -persuasion.” - -“That pfeller mare Bung-Eye no good,” said Billy, scornfully—the -ancient piebald mare on which many of his duties were carried out, was -the chief bitterness of his life. “Mine thinkit she bin fall down—die, -plenty soon.” - -“Not she!” chuckled Murty. “Don’t you hope it, me lad. Boss bin tell me -’tis Bung-Eye for you until you learn to ride a bit—if you ever do, an’ -that’s no certainty, I’m thinking.” Then, as the outraged aborigine -turned his eyes upon him in speechless wrath, Murty grinned in friendly -fashion. “Never mind—there’s a quiet old pony mare running down in the -Far Plain, and we’ll see if you can’t have a thrifle of a turn on her, -if you’re good.” - -Billy spluttered. - -“Boss him bin say I could ride one of the young ones,” he protested. -Whatever Billy could or could not do, he could sit any horse that had -ever been handled. He had a wild, primeval desire to smite the broad, -good-humoured face grinning at him. - -“The Boss said that, do ye say? Me poor lad, ye’ve misunderstood -him—‘twas to lead one about he meant!” Murty’s tone changed suddenly -and his smile faded. “Yerra now—look at that one!” he uttered. - -The chestnut colt had made several unquiet attempts at progressing round -the yard. The weight on his back troubled him; there was a feeling -pervading him that he was being mastered, although he could no longer -see his conqueror. When he tried to break into a jog-trot there came on -his mouth a steady strain, gentle but quite determined, bringing him -instantly to a puzzled standstill. Then came a hint that more movement -was required of him—that he was expected to walk. But his mind was far -too excited for him to think of walking; he wanted to jog, to trot—to -break into a wild gallop that would rid him for ever of this strange, -perplexing Presence on his back. He came to a halt again, snorting. - -“Go on, old chap!” Jim’s unspurred heel touched his side gently. - -A sudden wild impulse came upon the colt. He flung himself forward, -plunging violently—snatched at the restraining bit, felt the strain on -his mouth and the pressure on his sides as Jim stiffened a little in his -seat; and then, quivering with one mad desire to be free, his head went -down and he bucked furiously. To the onlookers he seemed like a -ball—his head and tail tucked between his legs, his back humped until -the rider seemed perched upon the very apex. To and fro he went in one -paroxysm after another; writhing, twisting, pounding across yard until -brought up by the fence; coming to a standstill with a jerk after a wild -fit of bucking and then flinging himself into another yet more wild. Jim -sat him easily, his supple body giving a little to each furious bound, -but never shifting in the saddle. The five on the fence-cap watched him -breathlessly; however secure the rider may be there is a never-failing -excitement in watching a determined buck-jumper. And the chestnut was -bucking with a determination worthy of his good breeding. - -He stopped suddenly, all four feet planted wide apart, panting heavily, -with nostrils dilated. For a moment it seemed as though he had enough. -Then his head went down again, he sprang into the air, bounding forward -with a sudden twist—the hardest buck of all to sit. It was too much for -the chestnut himself. As he landed he crossed his fore-feet, tripped, -and went headlong to the ground. A little cry broke from Norah, and -Wally drew in his breath sharply. - -David Linton was off the fence almost before his son touched the earth. -Jim kicked his feet out of the stirrups as the colt tripped, and was -flung clear, not relinquishing his hold on the bridle. He landed easily, -and was up again as quickly as he had gone down, dusty but uninjured. -The chestnut lay on his side, panting, for a moment; then, with a -scramble, he came awkwardly to his feet. As he rose, Jim slipped into -the saddle. The whole incident was over so speedily that it seemed like -a trick of the imagination. David Linton gave an inaudible sigh of -relief, climbing back to his place on the cap of the rail. - -The chestnut was beaten. He had done his worst, culminating in a display -that had shaken and alarmed him a good deal and had made his shoulder -ache badly; and the Presence on his back had not seemed disturbed at -all. It was evident that nothing could be done to annoy him; at the end -of a period which had been exceedingly trying for the colt himself, the -Presence was quite unruffled; not angry, not in any way moved, but -saying soothing things in his quiet voice, and patting his neck in the -same friendly way. The colt gave it up. Evidently it was prudent and -simpler to do as the Presence desired since in the long run it came to -the same thing, after much personal inconvenience if he resisted. The -fire died out of his wild eye, and the stiffness of his muscles relaxed. -In a moment he answered the rein meekly, and walked round the yard; and -when he found that he was expected to increase the pace to a trot, did -so awkwardly enough, but without any resistance. - -Jim trotted him for a few minutes, pulled him up, and slipped to the -ground, talking to him, and patting the wet neck. Then he grinned up at -the trio on the fence. - -“He’ll do now, I think,” he said. “That last outburst took all the -inquiring spirit out of him. You know, he hasn’t one little bit of vice; -he only wanted to know who was boss.” - -“Did he hurt you, Jimmy?” Norah asked. - -“Not a scrap, thanks. I’m awfully sorry the poor little chap came -down—it scared him. But he had to find out; and now we’ll be first-rate -friends—won’t we, old man?” This to the chestnut, who hung his head -meekly and looked comically like a naughty little boy released from the -corner. “Hope we didn’t give you a fright?” - -“You were too quickly down and up for us to have much time for that,” -said his father, disguising the fact that in a moment of paternal -weakness he had moved with equal rapidity. - -“There’s a lot of the tennis-ball in our Jimmy,” said Wally, bringing -his long legs over the fence and descending to earth. “Can’t keep him -down—what a nasty bit he’ll be for a solid, earnest German to tackle! -Going to rub him down, Jim?” - -“Yes—bring me the things, Billy, and take this saddle,” Jim said, -addressing the dusky retainer, who hovered near, armed with cloths and -brushes. “No, I’ll do it myself, thanks; I want him to get thoroughly -used to me. Got a thistle for him, Norah?” And for the next quarter of -an hour the colt’s toilet proceeded with a thoroughness bent on -impressing the pupil with the knowledge that the human touch was really -a comforting thing and led to a tired chestnut baby ultimately feeling -good all over. - -“There you are,” said Jim, giving him a final pat as he slipped off the -halter and watched him trot off into the freedom of the paddock. “When -you find out what to do with your legs and arrive at something -resembling a mouth, you’ll be worth riding. And now I’m going to give -myself a treat by getting on Garryowen and going to see how the fencers -are working in the new subdivision; they want a cheque on account, and I -want to see if they have earned it, before they get it. Who’s coming?” - -“Me,” said Norah, with great and ungrammatical fervour. - -“And me,” said Wally. - -Jim looked at his father. - -“Oh, well, we haven’t much more Billabong time left,” said David Linton, -smiling. “Me, too, I suppose.” - - - - -[Illustration: “Jim stiffened a little in his seat.”] - - _From Billabong to London_] [_Page 62_ - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - - A BILLABONG DAY. - -ONE of the men had found an injured wallaby in an outlying paddock. It -had caught in a sagging fence-wire, and broken its leg; the man, engaged -in restoring the fence to tautness, had found it lying helpless and -starving in a hollow. He was Murty O’Toole, and so he did not knock the -soft-eyed little beast on the head, as most stockmen would have done. -Murty had an Irishman’s tender heart. Besides, he knew Norah. - -“Poor little baste!” he said, picking up the wallaby gently. It made no -resistance, but its great eyes were terrified, and he could feel the -thumping of its heart. He whistled over it. “Well, well—the treachery -of that barbed-wire! Broken, is it then; and me with never a thing to -mend ye! Well, Miss Norah ’ll be glad of the chance; she an’ Mr. Jim ’ll -make a job of ye, an’ they afther learnin’ first-aid, near as good as -doctors. Come along home now, an’ get fixed up.” - -Norah had welcomed the invalid with enthusiasm. She had always kept tame -wallaby, which make one of the best Bush pets; and this one was a very -pretty specimen, the more attractive because of its helplessness and -pain. Jim set the broken leg deftly, and Norah took over the care of the -patient, which soon grew quite fearless and healed with the clean -thoroughness characteristic of wild animals. Before long it could hop -about the sheltered enclosure where it lived, never failing to limp to -meet her when she came to feed it. - -The wallaby’s midday dinner was late to-day, since a job of mustering in -an outlying paddock had kept everyone out far beyond the usual luncheon -hour. Norah had hurried through the meal, excusing herself before the -others had finished, so that she might go to her patient. She was coming -back through the sunny garden, swinging her empty milk-tin, when a -curious sight met her gaze. - -On the first verandah were two revolving figures; one immensely fat, the -other so thin that he seemed lost in the capacious embrace of the first. -As she came nearer, looking with puzzled eyes, it was evident that they -were Mrs. Brown and Wally; and that Mrs. Brown was not, indeed, the -embracer, but the most unwillingly embraced. From the open window of the -smoking-room came the voice of the gramophone, playing a waltz in time -more suited to an Irish jig; to which melody Wally was endeavouring to -tune his laggard partner’s footsteps. The unfortunate Brownie, purple of -face, did her best; but, for a lady weighing seventeen stone, the task -of emulating Wally would not have been easy at any time—and just now -Wally appeared to be compounded of quicksilver and electricity. His long -legs fairly twinkled; he gambolled and caracoled rather than danced. -Glimpses of his countenance, seen over Brownie’s shoulder as he twirled, -showed a vision of delirious joy. At the window behind him was Jim’s -face, scarcely less joyous. Mr. Linton, grinning broadly, was in a -doorway. - -“Oh, Wally, aren’t you an ass?” Norah ejaculated, helpless with -laughter. “Brownie, dear, don’t let him kill you!” - -“If she dies, it will be in a good cause,” Wally returned. -“Nevertheless, a substitute will do, and you’re a light-weight, Norah. -Thank you, ma’am”—to Mrs. Brown, whom he deposited in a chair, where -she subsided gaspingly. “Come along, Norah—let her go, Jim!” He seized -his hostess, and they spun up the verandah in a mad waltz, the wallaby’s -milk-can, which she had not had time to drop, banging cheerful time. - -The gramophone having come to the end of its tether, ended in a -scratching howl, and Jim disappeared precipitately from the window. -Wally came to a standstill regretfully. - -“I could have gone on for quite a while,” he uttered. “Bother you, -Jimmy—why couldn’t you keep her wound? Before we begin again, Norah, do -you mind laying aside that tin? It’s full of corners.” - -“I’m not going to begin again,” said Norah, firmly, “so don’t delude -yourself. Now will you tell me why you’ve suddenly gone mad?” Then her -eye caught a leather bag lying open on the floor, and her face suddenly -flushed with delight. “Oh, Wally, it’s the mail—and you can go!” - -“Of course it is,” Wally said, almost indignantly. “Do you think any -other cause could have induced me to waltz with Brownie at this hour of -day, no matter how much she wanted it?” There came a protesting gurgle -from Brownie, to which no one lent hearing. - -“Oh, I’m so glad!” Norah caught Wally’s hand, and they pumped each other -enthusiastically. “I knew it must be all right, all the time, of -course—but it’s lovely to be sure. Were they nice, Wally?” - -“Sweet as old pie,” said Wally, happily. “Mr. Dimsdale had waited to -communicate with Edward—and Edward was infesting a sugar mill somewhere -in the cane districts, and appeared to have taken special precautions to -dodge letters. However, he telegraphed to Mr. Dimsdale as soon as he did -hear—and he’s sent me an awfully jolly letter, and one to your father. -And old Dimmy’s written in his best style, giving me his blessing. And -they’ve sent word to school—won’t the Head kick! And they’ve fixed up -money. And everything’s glorious. Have another waltz, Brownie?” - -“No, indeed, thank you kindly,” said Brownie, hastily, grasping the arms -of her chair in the manner affected by those about to have a tooth -pulled. “Me figure’s against it, Mr. Wally, my dear, and it isn’t hardly -fair. If the day ever comes when you’re seventeen stone, you’ll -know—not as it seems likely, but you can’t be sure, and I was thin once -meself. Came on me like a blush—and me that active! Ah, well, I’ll be -thin enough with worry by the time you’re all safe home again.” - -“Rubbish, Brownie,” said Jim, and smiled at her affectionately. “You and -Murty will be so busy managing the place that you won’t have time to -think of worry.” - -“And there’ll be letters every week,” Norah added. “We’ll have such -heaps to tell you. And you’ll have to write to us.” - -“Me!” said Brownie, visibly shuddering at the prospect. “Gettin’ -letters’ll be all we’ll have to look forward to, Miss Norah, my -dear—but when it comes to writing them, it’s another thing. I never was -’andy at the pen, as you know. In my day our mothers thought a sight -more of making us ’andy about the house and with a cooking-stove. Girls -is very different nowadays. Even Mary and Sarah, though goodness knows -I’ve done me best with them.” - -“Oh, they’re quite good girls,” said Mr. Linton. “They should be, too, -after the years you’ve trained them.” - -“And they’ll write and say all you want if you’re tired, Brownie -darling,” Norah put in. - -“I dunno,” said Brownie, despondently, “I’m stupid enough writing -myself, but I’d be stupider yet dealing with a—what is it, Mr. Jim -dear, when it’s someone as writes for you? Something about ham.” - -“Amanuensis?” hazarded Jim. - -“Yes, that’s it. No, I’ll have to do my own letters, an’ they’ll be bad -enough. You’ll have to excuse them, dearie.” - -“The only thing I wouldn’t excuse would be not getting them,” Norah -answered. “I’ve had them whenever I was away at school, and you know I -can’t do without them, Brownie. Why, you tell me things no one else even -thinks of. And I’ll want home letters more than ever when I’m really -away from Australia. It was bad enough when I was at school; but to be -as far away from Billabong as England——” Norah stopped expressively. - -“You’ll have all I can send you, my precious,” said Brownie tearfully. -“I s’pose it’s no good for me to make up a hamper now and then? Me -plum-cakes’ll keep a year!” - -“I only wish it were,” said Jim. “Your hampers have brightened my life -from my youth up, Brownie—not that I ever gave one of your cakes a -chance to keep three days! But I expect we’ll have to wait until we come -home again. One thing’s quite certain, we’ll all be ready for your -cooking when we come back.” - -“Bless his heart!” said Brownie. It was plain that comforting visions of -a culinary orgie of welcome were already materialising in her mind. -“It’ll be a great day for the station when we get you all again—and be -sure you bring Mr. Wally too. I’ll have pikelets ready for you, Mr. -Wally!” - -“I’ll think of them, Brownie,” said Wally, his voice very kindly. “And -anyhow, one of the best things about getting back will be to see your -old face again. There now, I’ve made a sentimental speech. Take me away -Jim, and give me some work.” - -“Haven’t any,” Jim answered, lazily. “You forget I’ve been out since -daylight, old man—at an hour when I believe you were snoring musically, -I was giving the chestnut an early morning lesson. He went jolly well -too; easy as a rocking-chair. Now it’s three o’clock and I’m thinking of -claiming the eight-hours-day of the honest Australian working-man.” - -“Well, it’s not often you limit yourself to it,” his father said. - -“Don’t encourage him, sir,” Wally remarked. “Family affection doubtless -blinds you to the idleness which has so long grieved me in your son’s -character——” - -“Losh!” said Jim, in astonishment. He rose, and fell upon the hapless -Mr. Meadows, conveying him to the lawn, where they rolled over together -like a pair of St. Bernard puppies. Finally Jim, somewhat dishevelled, -sat up on the prostrate form of his friend. - -“I don’t mind your maligning me at all,” he said. “But when you take to -talking like a copy-book, it’s time someone dealt with you, young -Wally.” He shifted his position, thereby eliciting a smothered howl from -the victim. “You needn’t think that because you’re going to the war you -can make orations. Not here, anyhow.” - -“Take him off, somebody—Norah!” came from the earth, in a voice much -impeded by grass. - -“Indeed, I won’t—you have me pained, as Murty says,” replied Norah -callously. “He never did anything to you that you should talk in that -awful way. You might be your own grandmother!” - -“You’re not a nice family!” said Wally, gaspingly. He achieved a violent -convulsion, and Jim, taken off his guard, lost his balance and fell -over—of which his adversary was not slow to take advantage. The battle -that followed was interrupted by the hasty arrival of Billy, his ebony -countenance showing unusual signs of excitement. The tangled mass of -arms and legs on the lawn resolved itself into its original parts, and -Jim endeavoured to appear the manager of Billabong, even with much grass -in his hair. - -“What is it, Billy?” - -“Murty him send me,” Billy explained. “Big pfeller shorthorn bullock him -bogged in swamp—baal us get him out. Want rope an’ horses.” - -“Where?” - -“Far Plain. That pfeller silly-fool bullock—him just walk in boggy -place. Big one—nearly fat.” - -Jim whistled. - -“Nice game getting him out will be. Well, you’ve got your job, Wally, -old man, and if you take my advice, you’ll borrow some of my dungarees -to tackle it. There’ll be much mud. Billy, you run up old Nugget and put -a collar and trace chains on him, and lead him out. Take some -bags—we’ll bring ropes. Tell one of the boys to saddle our -horses—they’re in the stable.” - -“Can I come, Jim?” Norah asked. - -“Yes, of course; but you can’t very well help, so your habit will be all -right; good thing you hadn’t got out of it,” said Jim casting a glance -at his sister’s neat divided skirt and blue serge coat. “You might cut -along, if you’re ready, and hurry up the horses; Wally and I must go and -change.” The boys clattered into the hall and up the stairs. - -Mr. Linton, who had retreated to his office, came out at the noise. - -“Anything the matter, Norah?” - -Norah explained briefly, securing her felt hat the while. - -“H’m,” said her father. “No, I won’t come out, I think Jim and Murty can -manage without me; and Green and I are up to our eyes in the books. Take -care of yourself, my daughter.” He returned to the society of the -warlike Green, while Norah raced across to the stables. - -A rather small lad of sixteen, a newcomer whom Murty was endeavouring to -train in the place of one of the enlisted stockmen, was trying to saddle -Jim’s big bay, Garryowen—an attempt easily defeated by Garryowen by the -simple process of walking round and round him. Norah came to his -assistance, and the horses were ready by the time Jim and Wally, clad in -suits of blue dungaree, ran over from the house. - -“Good girl,” said Jim, well understanding that the new boy would not -have finished the task unaided. He dashed into the harness-room, -returning with two coils of strong rope, which he tied firmly to his -saddle. Norah and Wally were already mounted and out of the stable-yard. - -There was a keen westerly wind in their faces as they cantered steadily -across the paddocks. Billabong was looking its worst; the drought had -laid heavy hands upon it, and its beauty had vanished. On every side the -plains stretched away, broken here and there by belts of timber or by -the long, grey, snake-like lines of fencing. The trees were the only -green thing visible, since Australian forest trees do not shed their -leaves; but they looked old and faded, and here and there a dead one -stood grey and lonely, like a gaunt sentinel. Grey too were the plains; -their withered grass merged into the one dull colour. It was sparse and -dry; even though the season was winter, a little cloud of dust followed -the riders’ track. - -They crossed the river by a rough log bridge, built by Mr. Linton and -his men from trees felled by the stream. The dry logs clattered under -the horses’ feet. Looking up and down stream the water showed only a -shrunken remnant of its usual width, with boggy patches of half-dried -mud between the thin trickle and the dusty banks, where withered docks -reared gaunt brown stems. Even the riverside was dull and lifeless. But -the wattle-trees, bravely defying the drought, already showed among -their dark-green masses of foliage the buds that hinted at the -spring-time shower of gold. - -“This time last year,” said Jim, “the river came down in flood, and all -but washed this bridge away.” - -“It doesn’t look much like a flood now,” Wally remarked, surveying the -apology for a river with disfavour. - -“No—it’s hard to imagine that it was over the banks and half across -these paddocks. By Jove, we had a busy time!” Jim said, reminiscently. -“It came down quite suddenly; it was pretty high to begin with, and then -a big storm brought a lot of snow off the mountains, and whish! down -came the old river. We had sheep in these paddocks, and saving them -wasn’t an easy job. Sheep are such fools.” - -“Sheep and turkey-hens,” said Norah, “have between them an extraordinary -amount of idiocy.” - -“They have,” agreed her brother. “Our blessed old Shrops. decided that -they would like to die—so, instead of clearing out on the rises at the -far side of the paddocks, they camped on little hills near the river; -and, of course, the water came all round them, and there they were, -stranded on chilly little islands, surrounded by a healthy brown flood. -Some slipped in and were drowned; the rest huddled together, and bleated -in an injured way, as if they hadn’t had a thing to do with getting -themselves into the fix.” - -“Could you get them off?” Wally asked. - -“Oh, most of them. Where the flood wasn’t very deep we just drove the -big cart in and loaded them into it. It was too deep in a lot of places, -and we had to get the old flat-bottomed boat from the lagoon near the -house and go paddling over the paddocks. That was all right, but the -stupid brutes wouldn’t let themselves be saved, if they could help it; -whether it was cart or boat they disliked it equally, and we had to swim -after half of them—they simply hurled themselves into the water rather -than be rescued. And when it comes to life-saving in pretty turbulent -flood-water, you can’t find anything much more unpleasantly awkward than -a big woolly Shropshire, very indignant at not being allowed to drown.” - -“Jolly sort of job,” commented Wally. “Water cold?” - -Jim gave a shiver of remembrance. - -“Well, it was chiefly snow-water,” he answered “I don’t want to strike -anything much colder. We were in and out of it all day for three days -and the wonder was that some of us didn’t die—poor old Murty finished -up with a shocking bad cold. My share was earache, and that was bad -enough. But we had a job the week after that was nearly as exciting.” - -“What was that?” - -“Well, the flood-water went back, leaving a line of débris right across -the paddock—a solid belt of rubbish about six feet wide, made of reeds, -and sticks and leaves, and all the small stuff the water could gather up -as it came over the grass. Dry reeds were the basis of it—there must -have been tons of them. Then we had a few days of early spring -weather—you know those queer little bursts of almost hot days we get -sometimes. I was standing still on this layer of rubbish one morning, -looking at a bullock across the paddock when I felt something on my -leg—looked down, and it was a tiger-snake!” - -“Whew-w!” whistled Wally. - -“Only a little chap—but any tiger-snake is big enough to be nasty,” Jim -said. “It seemed puzzled by my leather gaiter; I kicked it off and -picked up a stick to kill it. And I nearly picked up another snake!” - -“Some people are never satisfied,” Wally said, severely. “Were you -trying to qualify for a snake-charmer?” - -“Not much—I can’t stand the brutes,” Jim answered. “I killed those two -and then went hunting among the rubbish—and do you know, it was simply -alive with snakes! The flood had brought them, I suppose, and the warm -sun had encouraged them to come out; anyhow, there they were, and a nice -job we had getting rid of them. I killed eight or ten more, and then it -struck me that the occupation was likely to last some time, so I went -home to lunch, and brought the men out afterwards. We had to turn over -every bit of that rubbish with forks—it was too damp to burn—and I -forget how many snakes we got altogether, but it was enough to stock a -menagerie a good many times over. Beastly game—we all saw snakes for a -week after it was finished, and I dreamed of them every night.” - -“I should think you did,” Wally said, with sympathy. “Did any one get -bitten?” - -“No—they were all pretty small and very sleepy. I daresay they thought -it was a little rough on them; after all, they hadn’t asked to be -brought from their happy homes and dumped out on the plain. But a -snake’s a snake,” finished Jim, emphatically. “It doesn’t pay you to -show mercy to one because he’s small.” - -“It does not; he grows up, and bites you,” said Wally, grimly, referring -to a painful episode in his own career. - -“Indeed, he doesn’t always wait until he grows up,” Norah put in. “Even -a baby tiger-snake can be venomous enough to be unpleasant. I don’t know -why snakes exist at all; they say everything has its uses, but I never -can see what use there is in the snake tribe.” - -“Neither can I—unpleasant brutes!” Wally agreed. “You get used to them, -but you never learn to love them—unless you’re a freak. I knew an old -swagman in Queensland who made pets of them, though. He had a collection -of about a dozen, which he said were poisonous, but I believe, myself, -he’d taken out their fangs.” - -“If he hadn’t, it’s the sort of thing nobody waits to prove,” Jim said. -“You have to investigate a snake pretty closely before you find out if -he has fangs or not; and if he has, the enquiry is apt to be unhealthy -for you.” - -“That’s so,” agreed Wally. “No one ever waited to investigate old -Moriarty’s serpents. He made them pay very well; he would run up a good -big bill at a hotel, and borrow as much money as he could from men who -were there, drinking; and then he would pull out his snakes in a casual -way in a crowded bar-room. Well, it used to work like a charm—most men -can tackle a snake or two in a room, but when it comes to seeing a dozen -squirming in different ways, people are likely to get rattled. Old -Moriarty could clear out a room in quicker time than any fire-alarm. The -bar-lady, if she didn’t escape with the first rush, would faint, or have -a ladylike fit of hysterics; and by the time anyone collected enough -presence of mind to return, Moriarty would be far away, generally -helping himself to a couple of bottles of whisky as he went.” - -“Horrid old pig!” was Norah’s comment. - -“He wasn’t a nice man,” Wally agreed. “Still I suppose you might call -him a genius in his own particular line. Anyway, he travelled all over -Southern Queensland, leaving behind him a trail of memories of serpents -and missing cash.” - -“What became of him?” Jim asked. - -“What I believe becomes of every crank who goes in for -snake-catching—he got bitten at last. He lost his snakes one by one; -you see, quite often one or two would get killed when he let them loose -in a bar, if they happened to wriggle up against a man who was sober and -had his stockwhip handy. Then he tried the trick once too often; he came -to a place where there was a drover who had seen him play his game in -another township, and this fellow warned everyone else, and told them he -was sure the snakes were really harmless. So when Moriarty let them go, -everyone was ready, and nobody fled—but in about two minutes there -wasn’t a live wriggler left of all his stock-in-trade.” - -“That was awkward for Moriarty,” Jim remarked “What did he do? Was he -wild?” - -“I guess he was pretty wild. But from all we could hear, he hadn’t a -chance to do anything, because things became so actively unpleasant for -him. The drover was one from whom he’d borrowed money previously; and he -knew there was no chance of getting it back, so he was annoyed. He told -the story of Moriarty’s misdeeds until everyone else felt annoyed too, -and they ducked the old sinner in a horse-trough outside, and then -escorted him gently but firmly from the township, riding him on a -fence-rail. It was summer, so it really didn’t hurt him, but it -discouraged him.” - -“Still, he went catching snakes again?” Norah asked. - -“Oh, yes. I suppose he felt they were his only friends; they must have -twin-souls to a certain extent. If a snake wasn’t your natural affinity -you couldn’t go about with it in your pocket, could you?” - -“I don’t expect you could,” said Jim, laughing. “I can’t imagine doing -it under any circumstances whatever; but there’s no accounting for -tastes, and your Moriarty seems to have been an unusual gentleman. I -suppose he felt lonely without his pets. One would.” - -“One certainly would,” Wally assented. “Fancy a dozen of ’em wriggling -about you! Anyhow, Moriarty went off into the bush after more, and had -pretty good hunting; he turned up on our station with five or six. Of -course, he behaved all right there, and didn’t attempt to show them -unless he was asked—and, of course, we youngsters were as keen as -mustard to see them. We always enjoyed a visit from Moriarty, and he -used to be very careful with the snakes, not to run any risks for us. He -was really quite a decent old chap, except for whisky; when he couldn’t -get any you might have easily mistaken him for a respectable citizen.” - -“Is that the kind you keep in Queensland?” enquired Jim, grinning. - -“Don’t know,” returned Wally, evenly—“they wouldn’t let me mix in -respectable circles since I took to associating with you. However, -Moriarty stayed with us a few days, and then went off into the bush -again, saying he wanted more snakes. We never saw him again, poor old -chap; but one of the boundary-riders came upon his body a few days -later.” - -“Dead?” - -“Oh, yes, quite dead. He had evidently been bitten by a snake. He had a -theory that if one did bite him, it wouldn’t hurt him, and he’d always -said that he wouldn’t do anything to cure himself—that he was too tough -for poison to hurt him. All these snake-charming idiots say that sort of -thing. Well, old Moriarty found out his mistake, as they all do—too -late.” - -“Poor old chap!” said Norah. - -“Yes—we were all jolly sorry for old Moriarty. Of course, he was really -an absolute reprobate; but he always behaved decently on our station, -and he used to be jolly kind to us boys. We were lonely kids, and the -place was at the back of beyond—hardly a soul ever came there, and we -welcomed Moriarty’s visits tremendously. He was such an unusual animal. -Ah, well, rest his sowl, as Murty would say. I don’t suppose he’d have -done any good with himself, so perhaps it was as well he went out.” - -They had been riding through a belt of sparse growing timber, the track -marked by the wheels of the bullock-drays that were sent to bring -firewood to the homestead. Now they emerged upon an open plain, where -quicker going was possible. Just ahead was Billy, jogging along upon the -hated Bung-Eye, whose piebald sides bore many marks of his spurs. He was -leading a heavy black horse; one of the generally useful “slaves” to be -found on any station, capable of being used as hack or stock-horse, in -buggy, cart, or plough, and equally handy in any capacity. It was said -of Nugget that in an emergency he was quite agreeable to pulling a load -with his tail; and it was known that by means of a halter fastened to -that useful appendage he had once “skull-dragged” a jibbing horse home. -Nothing came amiss to him. If he had a temper, it was never shown. In -good seasons or bad, he throve, and under no circumstances was he sick -or sorry. His breeding was extremely doubtful, but in all that matters -he was a perfect gentleman. - -Billy looked enviously at the unhampered riders as they swept past him. -He hated slow progress; to him, as to most natives, a horse was a thing -which should be kept at a high speed, and it was the sorrow of his life -that the work demanded of him very often meant quiet going. It was bad -enough to have to jog over the paddocks on lazy old Bung-Eye, leading -Nugget, heavy-footed and with trace-chains clanking dismally, without -being forced to watch these cheerful people tear by him on horses that -he would have bartered most of his small worldly possessions to ride. He -jerked Nugget’s leading-rein angrily, whereof the old black horse took -not the slightest notice. Nugget was certainly not a cheerful -proposition to lead; he went at his own pace or none, and at any attempt -to hustle him he simply leaned heavily on the bit, becoming in Murty’s -phrase, “as aisy as a stone wall.” At the moment. Billy was blind to all -his undoubted moral excellences. - -Half a mile across the paddock was a swampy lagoon. Ordinarily it was -fringed with a thick belt of green rushes, which made splendid cover for -black duck, and always gave good shooting in the season. Now, however, -it was half dried up, and the rushes, withered and yellow, rattled -cheerlessly in the keen wind. There was a wide expanse of dried mud near -the bank; then another expanse, deep chocolate in colour, not yet quite -dry. Beyond was the water, dotted with clumps of rushes, and looking -rather like pea-soup. The mud was deeply indented with hoof-marks. A -loud croaking of innumerable frogs filled the air. - -A dozen yards from the edge stood a big shorthorn bullock, girth deep in -water. He was hopelessly bogged. From time to time he made a violent -struggle to free his legs from the mud that held them; but each attempt -only left him sunk more deeply. It was quite evident that he fully -understood the seriousness of his plight. His sides heaved with his -panting breath; his great eyes were wild with fear. Now and then he gave -a low bellow, full of anxiety. - -“I’ll bet he’s cold!” said Jim, with emphasis. “The great stupid ass! -Why couldn’t he have the sense to keep out of a bog-hole like that?” He -jumped off, and proceeded to tie Garryowen’s bridle to a tree. “Been at -him long, Murty?” - -“Sure I kem upon him two hours ago, an’ I’ve been doin’ me endeavours to -shift him ever since,” replied Mr. O’Toole, picking his way across the -hoof-marked mud to meet the riders. His usually cheery countenance wore -a doleful expression, and was obscured by many muddy streaks. Mud, in -fact, clothed him from head to foot; in addition to which he was -extremely wet. He cast a look at his hands, plastered and dripping. -“Sorry I can’t take the pony for ye, Miss Norah.” - -“It’s all right, thank you, Murty,” Norah answered, securing Bosun. “I -wish I had known you’d been at this horrible job so long. I could have -brought you out some tea. You must be frozen.” - -“Don’t you worry; I’ve something better,” said Jim, producing a flask, -at the sight of which Murty’s eyes brightened. - -“Well, I’ll not be sorry for a drink,” he said, gratefully. “Cold! It’d -freeze a poley bear to be standin’ in that water; and that’s what I’ve -been doin’ these two hours, coaxin’ of that onnatural baste. Thanks, Mr. -Jim.” His teeth chattered against the silver cup as he drank. - -“I knew you’d need it,” Jim said. “This isn’t a winter job. Mud deep, -Murty?” - -“Och, deep as you like!” said Murty lucidly. He handed back the cup. -“’Tis good to feel that sendin’ a taste of a glow through a frozen man! -The mud’s deeper than the water, Mr. Jim—there’s mighty little of that. -Good sticky mud too; it takes a powerful grip of the boot.” - -“Have you moved him at all?” - -“I have not. He’s precisely where he was when I found him, barrin’ he’s -sunk deeper. I tried driving and I tried pulling; Billy an’ I got our -stirrup-leathers joined and did our divilmost to haul him out; and I’ve -beaten the poor baste most unfeeling. There’s no stirring him. So I sent -Billy in f’r ye, and I’ve been employing me time laying down logs an’ -slabs all round him, the way he’ll get a howlt for his feet when we do -move him—an’ have something f’r ourselves to stand on while we’re -getting the tackling on to him. That same is needed.” Mr. O’Toole looked -down ruefully at his mud-plastered feet and legs. “Near bogged I was -meself, an’ I beltin’ him; a good thing f’r me I got a howlt on his -tail, though I expect he thought it was a misfortunit thing for him. But -it was him or me.” - -“You certainly must have had a cheerful time,” Jim observed. “I’d sooner -have lots of jobs than laying down a wood pavement under water in this -weather.” - -“Well, it passes the time away, an’ that’s about all you can say f’r -it,” said Murty, grimly. “Here’s that black image. ’Twas all I wished -wan of us had been on old Nugget—we’d have skull-dragged the baste out -somehow, before he sank as deep as he is now. But we’ll manage it nice -an’ pleasant, with all that tackling.” - -“I hope so,” Jim said, surveying the muddy water a little doubtfully. -“We’ll have a good try, anyhow. Better stay out of the water now, Murty; -you’ve had quite enough. We can rope him.” - -“Is it me?” queried Mr. O’Toole, indignantly. “’Tis only used to it I -am—there’s no need f’r you to wet y’r feet at all. Billy an’ I can fix -it.” - -Jim laughed. - -“I might have known you wouldn’t be sensible,” he said. “Come on, then, -you obstinate old Irishman!” He picked up a coil of rope and some -sacking and marched off into the water, followed by his henchmen. - -The big shorthorn seemed to understand that the new arrivals were bent -on helping him, for he showed no sign of fear as they waded across, -stumbling in the boggy mud and tripping over Murty’s unseen and uneven -pavement of logs. To stand on logs hidden under water is never the -easiest of pursuits—the log possessing an almost venomous power of -tipping up; and when such action on the part of the log renders its -victim exceedingly likely to be dogged by plumping him violently into -mud, the excitement becomes a trifle wearing. Norah, left alone on dry -land beside Nugget, who slumbered peacefully, was divided between mirth -and anxiety. To the looker-on there was much that was undoubtedly -comical. - -“Scissors!” ejaculated Wally, making a mis-step and losing his balance -altogether. A violent splash resounded as he struck the water, -disappearing momentarily in a cloud of spray that half drenched his -companions. Mr. Meadows arose like a drowned rat, amidst unfeeling -laughter. - -“Can’t you stand up, you old duffer?” queried Jim—and promptly lost the -use of one leg, which sank so far into the yielding mud that it was all -its owner could do to avoid sitting down in the water. Prompt action -rescued him, amidst jeers from Wally. - -“Of all the evil places for a stroll!” ejaculated Jim. “What on earth -possessed you to come in here at all, you owl?” This to the bullock, who -very naturally made no reply. - -“Contrary they do be, by nature,” said Murty, picking his way from log -to log. “You’d wonder, now, what he’d expect to be finding; and any fool -could have towld it’d be boggy. Well, he has his own troubles coming, -an’ serve him right.” - -The bullock snorted uneasily when he found himself the centre of -attraction: a matter brought home to him sharply by the fact that Jim -slipped on a log near him, and fell against him with a violence that -would have disturbed anything less firmly bogged. - -“No good trying to move him by ourselves, I suppose, Murty?” queried -Jim, recovering himself. - -“Not a bit—we’ll help the ould horse, but ’tis Nugget that’ll pull him -out,” rejoined the stockman. “I doubt if we’d shift him in a month of -Sundays. Let ye be catching that rope, Mr. Jim, when I pass it under -him.” - -To adjust the tackling was a matter requiring care, in order to avoid -injury to the bullock. They padded him with sacking wherever a rope was -likely to cut when the strain came upon it, with due regard that no -knots should press unduly. It took time—standing as the workers were on -slippery hidden logs that moved and squelched under them like living -things, and in icy water that chilled them through and through, and -numbed their fingers as they wrestled with the hard rope. When it was -done Norah led Nugget in to the edge of the boggy mud, and the -trace-chains attached to his collar were joined to the tackling on the -bullock. - -“Lead him on, and we’ll see if he can shift him, Nor,” Jim called. - -“Come up, Nugget,” responded Norah. She took the black horse by the -head; and Nugget, suddenly realising that great things were demanded of -him, woke up and went forward with a steady strain. The bullock, finding -himself more uncomfortable than he had ever dreamed of being, bellowed -indignantly. But nothing happened. The prisoner did not budge an inch. - -“No good,” Jim sang out. “Back, Nugget,” and Nugget stopped and backed -with thankful promptness. “We’ll have to rig up some more tackling.” - -The broad leather saddle-girths made an excellent foundation for -side-ropes. Jim and Billy took one, Murty and Wally the other. They -waded out until they were on firm ground. The bullock stood glaring at -them, wild-eyed. - -“Now, Nor—and all together!” - -The tackling tightened. On either side, the rope-holders threw their -weight on the stiffening cords, like men in a tug of war. Norah, -stumbling on the hoof-printed mud, urged Nugget by voice and hand. There -was a minute’s hard pulling. - -“Slack off,” Jim commanded. “Back him, Norah.” Men and horse panted in -unison, getting their breath anew. - -“I believe he came a little,” Wally said. - -“Something came,” Jim agreed. “Let’s hope it wasn’t the tackling giving. -We’ll know this time, anyhow. Ready, boys?” - -Once more the strain came. The four rope-holders struggled together, -their muscles standing out like knotted cords. Nugget, knowing his -business just as well as they, put his head down and leaned against the -strain, gaining foot by foot. An anguished bellow broke from the -bullock. There came a sucking, squelching sound. - -“He’s coming!” Norah gasped. “Pull, boys!” - -A final struggle, and the strain eased suddenly. The mud gave—the -bullock, feeling himself freed from the horror that had gripped his -legs, plunged stiffly forward, tripped, and fell bodily into the water. -They dragged him out on his side, a pitiful, mud-plastered object. It -required considerable coaxing to get him upon his feet, and then he -stood still, too numbed and confused to move, while the tackling was -removed. - -“There you are,” Jim said at last, dealing him a hearty blow with a -girth. “Move on—you can’t stand there all night, you know.” But it was -only after repeated blows that the rescued one obeyed, stumbling across -the mud to the safety of the bank, where he stood, trembling with cold. - -“We can’t leave him here,” Jim said. “He’s too cold altogether—he’ll -have to be housed to-night. Billy, you bring him in slowly—hitch old -Nugget to him if he won’t travel.” - -“Plenty,” said Billy, lugubriously. He also was cold, and the prospect -of tailing in behind the numbed bullock was anything but pleasant. He -began his slow journey as the other four cantered off across the -paddock. - -Mr. Linton came out to the stable yard to greet them. He had been -watching for some time before he heard the beat of far-off hoofs, and -the echo of young voices, singing in the dusk. - -“Well, you seem cheerful enough,” he said. “Job tough?” The light from -the stables fell on his mud-covered son, and he laughed a little. “It -was as well you put on dungarees, Jim.” - -“Just as well,” said Jim, laughing. “Got him out, anyhow.” - -“You’ve had a long day,” said his father. - -“Have I?” Jim asked. “Oh, I suppose I have! Nothing to growl at, at any -rate.” He straightened his broad shoulders as they walked across to the -house. “Billabong days never do seem long, somehow. I wonder if——” -Whatever the conjecture was, it went no further. His hand fell on -Norah’s shoulder as they went in together. - - - - -[Illustration: “‘He’s coming!’ Norah gasped. ‘Pull, boys!’”] - - _From Billabong to London_] [_Page 89_ - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - - GOOD-BYE. - -PORT Melbourne pier was a scene of hurry and bustle. - -Along every yard of its great length lay mighty ocean-going steamers: -mail-boats, Orient and P. & O., big White Star cargo-ships, French -liners, and all the miscellaneous collection of ships that ply from up -and down the world to Australia. Trains were coming and going along the -railway lines running down the centre of the pier, piercing the air with -their shrieks of warning, while people moved hastily out of their way, -stumbling over the intricate network of rails. A motley crowd they were: -passengers from the steamers; officers—sunburned men in blue uniforms; -wharf labourers; sailors in blue jerseys, bearing the name of their ship -across their breasts; dark-skinned Lascars from the P. & O. ships; -Chinese; well-dressed city people tempted out by bright sunshine and -blue sea; and the never-failing throng of children to be found on every -great wharf, drawn to “the beauty and mystery of the ships.” Amidst the -crowd dock hands worked at loading and unloading cargoes; the shrieks of -steam-cranes sounded as great wooden cases were lifted from the trucks, -to be poised perilously in mid air over the pier before being swung -in-board and lowered into the gaping holds. Each ship bore on its -mooring-ropes wide discs of tin, to discourage the rats which would -otherwise have found the rope an easy track into the steamer. - -It was the usual Australian wharf scene; but there was another factor in -it, by no means so familiar. Among the crowded ships were several -painted in neutral colours, bearing no name, but only the letter A and a -number. They were alongside the wharf, and on their decks men in uniform -were working with a feverish activity quite unlike the ordinary -movements of the dock-hand in Australia. At each gangway stood a sentry; -and other men in khaki went up and down swiftly, some of them receiving -salutes from the men who worked—not always, because the new Australian -soldier was a free-and-easy person, and, having much to learn, did not -easily see that saluting is a mark of respect to the King’s uniform, -more than to the man who wears it. The privates did not mean any -disrespect to the uniform—they only knew they were busy, and that it -seemed to them foolish to stop and salute a man whom they had perhaps -known for years as “Bill” or “Dick,” who might have been the fag of one -of them at school, or perhaps worked for another for wages on a farm. -There are all sorts of queer ups and downs in the composition of a -Colonial volunteer force, and social distinctions are apt to collapse -altogether before military ability; so that the man with a big property -and more money than he knows what to do with may find himself a mere -private working under a martinet of a captain who possibly delivered his -meat in the piping times of peace. Moreover, he will do it cheerfully. -But he will find the saluting hard. - -There was a steady hum of preparation on all the grey troopships with -the white numbers. Stores and kit were being loaded into them rapidly, -each item checked by an officer; on some, the decks of which were -boarded up, soldiers, stripped to shirt and breeches, were working with -great bundles of compressed hay and straw, emptying truck after truck in -readiness for the horses that were to be the chief passengers. From -within these could be heard the sound of hammering; they had been -stripped of all their inside fittings, and every available inch of space -was being turned into stalls and loose-boxes, made with due regard to -the comfort of the puzzled four-footed occupants whose homes they would -be for so many weary weeks. - -All the quay-room was taken up; and besides, out in Port Phillip Bay, -the ships lay thick: troopships; cargo-boats waiting their chance to -unload, or busy discharging their goods into lighters; sailing vessels, -tramps from every harbour in the world, with towering masts and rusty -sides; and a host of smaller craft that nosed in and out among the big -ships. Near some steps leading to the water a motor-launch tossed in the -wash of a paddle-steamer leaving for some Bay port. - -A large party, variously laden with hand-baggage, came rapidly along the -wharf from the railway-station, and down the steps. At sight of their -leader one of the men in the launch steadied her, while the other busied -himself with the engine. - -“We’ve sent all our heavy things on board, and this is quite the most -comfortable way to get over to Williamstown,” David Linton was saying. -“No, it’s quite unusual, of course, to be sailing from there; but war -has upset everything, and there’s simply no room for any more big ships -at this pier. Williamstown is a fearsome place to embark from; it’s bad -enough to get there, to begin with, and when you have done so, the pier -is miles from anywhere, and you traverse appalling tracks in finding -your ship. Much simpler to run across the Bay from Port Melbourne by -launch.” - -Edward Meadows, a tall, lean man, very like Wally, nodded assent. - -“I’ve never seen the fascination of travel,” he said lazily. “To me it’s -only bearable with the maximum of comfort—especially when you go to -sea.” - -“Well, there’s not much maximum of comfort about your back-country trips -in Queensland,” said Wally, rather amazed. “And you have plenty of -those, Edward.” - -“Oh, yes, but that’s different! You don’t expect comfort, and you’d be -rather surprised if you got it. And the Bush is different, too,” replied -his brother, a trifle vaguely, yet conscious that his hearers -understood. “You can live on corned-beef, damper and milkless tea for -weeks in the Bush, and sleep in the open, with your saddle for a pillow, -and on the whole you quite enjoy it; but you’d feel quite injured if you -had to do it on board ship. Possibly it’s the clothes you wear—I don’t -know.” He looked round, as if expecting to find enlightenment. “Let me -help you in, Miss Norah.” - -The launch held them all comfortably, though they were a large party: -the travellers themselves, various relatives who had come to see them -off, and a sprinkling of school friends who were openly envying Norah -and the boys. They included a couple of lads in khaki, fresh from the -camp of the Expeditionary Force at Broadmeadows. - -“Well, you’re lucky to be getting straight to the middle of things,” -said one of these. “Here we are, tied up week after week, waiting to get -away, and nobody quite knows why we don’t start—they talk about German -cruisers, of course, and there are stories of warships not being ready -to convoy us, and a dozen other yarns. Every now and then comes a rumour -that we’re just off, and we say good-bye wildly—and then we don’t go. -I’ve made all my fond farewells four times, and I believe my people are -beginning to feel a little less enthusiastic about it than they did. It -must be jolly hard to keep on regarding one as a departing hero!” - -“And when we do start, it’s going to be slow enough,” put in his -companion. “There will be such a crowd of us—and we’ve got to make the -pace by the slowest ship.” He jerked his hand towards a troopship round -the stern of which the motor-launch was chug-chugging slowly. “That’s -one of them. She was a German tramp steamer that strolled in here after -war broke out and was collared; she didn’t know a thing about the war, -and her captain said most unseemly things to the pilot who had gone out -to bring them through the Heads and held his tongue about war until he -had the ship covered by our guns at Queenscliff.” The soldier grinned -with huge enjoyment. “I wish I’d seen him! But she’s not much of a tub, -anyhow; I expect the Orient boat that has been turned into the Staff -troopship has just about twice her pace, but she will have to -accommodate herself to the slowest.” - -“Yes, it will be a deliberate sort of voyage,” said the other. “No -ports; no news; just dawdling along for weeks, packed like herrings. -Hope they’ll keep us busy with drill; it will be something to pass the -time away.” - -“And you don’t know when you are to sail? Edward Meadows asked. - -“For all we know it may be a case of strike camp to-night. There are too -many German warships in the way—it wouldn’t be healthy to let the news -leak out. Wouldn’t the _Emden_ like a chance of meeting a crowd like -ours!—a lot of transports like helpless old sheep, with a few -men-o’-war to protect the whole mob. The _Emden_ would not mind going -down herself if she sank some of us.” - -“Well, at least you’ll have the men-o’-war” Norah put in. “We won’t have -anything at all to protect us.” - -“You don’t seem very troubled about it, either,” grinned the soldier -lad. - -“Why, it would be an experience. I don’t suppose they would hurt us, -even if they sank the ship. And our luggage is insured,” said Norah, -practically. - -“The danger of a hostile cruiser does not seem to weigh heavily on the -minds of the insurance companies,” remarked her father. “It cost me a -good deal more to insure against pilfering than against war risks!” - -“You don’t say so!” said Edward Meadows, staring. - -“I do, though. It’s a queer state of affairs, but I suppose they know -their business. There’s the old ship.” - -They had nearly crossed the narrow portion of the Bay that lies between -Port Melbourne and Williamstown, and the docks were coming into view. -Everywhere the wharves were crowded with shipping, mostly of a smaller -character than the vessels they had seen; but towering above everything -else, larger than even the Orient liner, lay a great ship. She had but -one funnel, painted a vivid blue; it loomed vast above them, a mighty -cylinder—large enough, if it lay on its side, to drive a coach-and-four -through it. - -“Whew-w! She’s a big one!” ejaculated the young soldier. - -“Yes; there’s only one larger ship in the Australian trade,” Jim -answered. - -“Many passengers?” - -“Hardly any, I believe. But she’s enormously valuable; she’s carrying a -huge cargo—the richest, with the exception of gold, that ever left -Australia. And it’s just what they want in England—frozen meat, wool, -tallow, and things like that, and a huge consignment of food the -Queensland people are sending to the troops at the Front. They say she’s -worth a million and a half!” - -“By Jove, what a prize she’d make!” said the soldier. “I should think -the German cruisers will be keeping a pretty sharp look-out for her.” - -“Yes—and I believe the _Emden_ is particularly anxious to get a Blue -Funnel ship before she goes under. The _Perseus_ would make a pretty -good scalp, wouldn’t she?” - -The engineer shut off the motor, and the little launch came to rest -beside a gangway under the lee of the _Perseus_—whose bulk, seen close -above them, seemed like that of a mountain. A sailor ran down the steps -to steady the launch and offer a helping hand as its passengers climbed -out. In a moment Norah stood for the first time upon the deck of a ship. - -It gave her a queer little thrill of exultation. Everything about her -was new and unfamiliar: the long lines of the deck, the hurrying -officers and sailors, the creak of machinery, punctuated with crisp -commands; and over all, the smell of the ship and the salt air blowing -up from the wider spaces of the Bay. It seemed to mount to her head. -Instinctively she put out her hand to her father. - -“Well, my girl,” he said. “It’s a bit different to the old wind-jammer -that I came out in.” - -“It’s—it’s lovely, Daddy!” - -He laughed. “I hope you’ll continue to think so,” he said. “Come and -we’ll find our cabins.” - -A passing steward, to whom they gave their numbers, took them in charge -and piloted them below. They went down a winding oak staircase with -rubber treads that were soft to the feet, and passed through an open -space invitingly furnished with lounge-chairs. Thence a passage led a -little way until their guide turned sharply to the right. - -“This is yours, sir,” said the steward. “The young lady’s is opposite.” - -The cabins were alike—roomy ones, each containing three berths, and lit -by wide port-holes. The _Perseus_ had accommodation for over three -hundred passengers, and at an ordinary time went out with every berth -taken; but war had made people disinclined to travel, and on this voyage -her passenger-list held only about thirty names. Therefore there was -room and to spare, and each passenger could have had two or three cabins -had he been so disposed. - -Already Norah’s luggage was placed in readiness; and scattered on one of -the berths were a number of parcels and letters, to which so many were -immediately added that the bunk looked like a jumble-stall, but very -interesting. - -“No, you mustn’t open them now,” said her special school-chum, Jean -Yorke; “they will keep, and you’ll have loads of time going down the -Bay. Come and explore the ship.” - -At the entrance to their alley-way they met Jim and Wally, returning -from inspecting their cabin, which was near-by and “very jolly,” said -its owners; and then they all trooped off to find their way about the -steamer, discovering big drawing-rooms and lounges, a splendid -smoking-room panelled in oak, with a frieze of quaint carvings running -round it, and the dining-saloon—a roomy place, furnished with -swing-chairs and small round tables, on which ferns and tall palms -nodded a friendly greeting. Everything was big and spacious and airy. -Smart stewards, white-jacketed, darted hither and thither. They passed -the galley, catching a glimpse of rows of bright cooking-ranges, -gleaming copper saucepans, and busy cooks, with snowy aprons and flat -caps—all so spotlessly clean that Norah wished audibly that Brownie -could see it—Brownie having expressed dark doubts as to whether her -belongings would be decently fed on board, coupled with unpleasant -allusions to cockroaches. Then they came out on the decks, of which -there were three—roomy enough for a regiment to drill, and with -pleasant nooks sheltered from the wind, no matter from what quarter it -might come. In one of these the deck steward had already set up their -long chairs—made of Australian blackwood and dark green canvas, with -“Linton” painted on each of the four. - -“I ran you in as one of the family, Wally,” said the squatter. - -“Thanks awfully, sir,” said Wally, gratefully. - -People were coming aboard quickly; though there were so few passengers, -the _Perseus_ was a popular ship, and many came to see her off. The -first of the three warning bells clanged out sharply above the din. - -“Come and have tea,” said David Linton. “I told them to have it ready at -first bell.” - -They crowded round the biggest table in the saloon, while the stewards -brought tea. Every one was becoming a little silent; there seemed -suddenly a great many things to say, but no one could remember any of -them. No one wanted tea at all, except the soldier boys, who drank -immense quantities, and did their best to keep the conversation going. -Aunts and cousins heaped on Norah good advice about the journey. Edward -Meadows stared at his young brother’s bright face—a sudden fear at his -heart lest he should be looking at it for the last time. - -“He’s such a kid,” he said inwardly. “I wonder if we ought to be letting -him go.” - -On the deck, after the second bell had brought them up from the saloon, -he drew David Linton aside. - -“You’ll take care of him, if you get a chance, won’t you, sir? He’s only -a kid.” - -“To the utmost of my ability,” said Mr. Linton, gravely. “He is like my -own son to me.” - -Then came the final bell, and with it a sudden gust of good-byes. -Telegraph-boys came racing up the gangway with belated messages. Every -one was trying to say twenty farewells at once. - -“Good-bye, you chaps,” said the soldier lads. “Expect you’ll be in -Flanders before we are—but we’ll meet you there. Keep Australia going!” - -“Hope we’ll get a chance,” Jim said, “and not mess it up if we get it. -We’ll try, anyhow. Good voyage. Don’t be sea-sick!” - -“Same to you. Write to us if you can.” - -“You too. Say good-bye to all the chaps we knew at school.” - -“Good-bye, Norah, dear,” from an aunt. “Remember you’re growing up—you -can’t be a Bush girl in England.” - -“I’ll try,” said Norah meekly. “I expect every one will be too busy with -the war to notice me.” - -“I’m sure you’ll be a credit to us,” cried the aunt, inflicting a damp -embrace. “If only you have a safe voyage!” She kissed Jim with fervour, -and showed such signs of beginning on Wally that that timid youth -retired precipitately into the crowd. - -“All visitors ashore!” sang out a stentorian voice. People flocked down -the gangway. - -“You’ll write, won’t you, Norah?” asked Jean Yorke, a little shakily. -Jean was a silent person, but Norah was very dear to her. - -“Of course I will,” said Norah, hugging her. “And you—lots! Oh, won’t -we want letters when we’re right away over there!” - -“It’s awful at school without you,” said Jean. “Oh, and everybody sent -you their love—even Miss Winter! And they say, ‘Come back soon.’ So do -I.” - -“Just as soon as ever we can. Oh, I don’t want to go a bit!” said poor -Norah. “There can’t be any place as good as Australia.” - -“Of course there isn’t. But you’ll come back.” - -“Any more for the shore?” - -“Oh, I must go!” cried Jean, and fled, after a final hug. Edward Meadows -wrung Wally’s hand hard, and went slowly down the gangway—in his mind a -helpless feeling that perhaps they had not done as much as they might -for the little brother who had known neither mother nor father. On the -last step he hesitated, turned, and went back. - -“Remember you needn’t ever go short of money,” he said. It seemed such a -foolish thing; and yet it was all he could find to say. - -“Thanks, ever so much, Edward. I’m sure I’ll have plenty.” - -“And—come back safe,” said his brother. He gripped his hand again, and -went down. Already sailors were busy with the gangway ropes. - -At the last moment, just as the cumbrous ladder began to be drawn up, a -figure came racing down the wharf, uttering shouts that were incoherent -through breathlessness. Behind him puffed a couple of porters, -staggering under a leather suit-case and a Gladstone bag. The sailors -above the gangway hesitated, and the newcomer sprang upon it. - -“What are you up to, sir?” came the sharp voice of an officer. “Are you -a passenger?” - -“Certainly I am,” responded the breathless one—a short, stout -individual by no means fitted for violent exercise. “Kindly send some -one for my baggage.” - -A couple of sailors ran down the gangway and took the burdens from the -panting porters. The late arrival puffed up the steps. - -“You cut it pretty fine,” was the comment of the officer. - -“Who ever heard of a ship being punctual before?” was the reply. -“Extraordinary—almost ridiculous!” - -The officer laughed in spite of himself. - -“It’s never safe to bank on the _Perseus_ being unpunctual,” he -remarked. “Lucky you caught us. Haul away!” - -The gangway came up slowly. Three piercing whistles shrilled from the -siren. Down on the wharf, the people who had seemed so many on the ship -now appeared dwindled to a little huddled crowd, with faces upturned; it -was hard to pick out individuals. - -Norah leaned on the rail, looking down—suddenly realising that it was -indeed “good-bye.” The ship was drawing out slowly—foot by foot the -water appeared between her side and the pier—unpleasant, dirty water, -full of floating rubbish. A little way out it sparkled to meet them, a -dancing mass of foam-flecked blue. But Norah could not see that side -now—only the little widening strip of brown water, and the wharf with -its wistful faces. Her own, as she looked, was very wistful. Beyond, sea -and sky might be blue, calling to her—but on this side lay Australia. - - - - -[Illustration: “At each gangway stood a sentry.”] - - _From Billabong to London_] [_Page 92_ - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - - SETTLING DOWN. - -“NOW then, kiddie.” - -Jim’s hand touched her arm, and Norah looked round. They had passed the -Gellibrand light and were heading towards the wider spaces of Port -Phillip Bay. Across the water the sunlight lay golden on the beaches and -the wooded shores. To the right a little steamer was coming lazily in -from Geelong. - -“Do you want me, Jim?” Norah tried to make her voice steady. - -“Well, I think you might as well come and get your cabin ship-shape,” -Jim said. “You’ve got two or three hours of daylight and smooth water; -and once you get outside the Heads there may be any sort of weather, and -you may be any sort of sailor. Not that I believe any of us will be -sea-sick—this huge old ship can’t toss about much, unless she meets a -hurricane.” - -“Well, you never know,” said Norah, prudently. “And if I’m going to be -ill I won’t feel like getting ship-shape then, I suppose. All right, -Jimmy, I’ll go down. How do I get there?” - -“Haven’t an idea,” said her brother, laughing. “We’ll ask a steward if -we get bushed—meanwhile, I know it’s down a flight of stairs, and not -up; and that’s something. Come along, and we’ll find our way, in time.” - -They plunged down the nearest companion, and by dint of studying the -numbers of the cabins, finally arrived at Norah’s, which looked much -larger than it had appeared when full of people an hour earlier. Jim -surveyed the berths with a twinkle. - -“Apparently every one who knows you has sent you small tokens of -regard,” he said. “Better get them unpacked while I unstrap your boxes. -Got your keys?” - -Norah handed over her keys and began the work of investigation, suddenly -immensely cheered by the friendly packages. Flowers first, in boxes and -dainty green tissue-paper packages: boronia, sweet peas, carnations, and -early wattle. Their fragrance filled the cabin, and even Jim exclaimed -at their beauty. - -“You can’t possibly keep them all here,” he said. “I’ll ring for the -steward and tell him to put some on our table in the saloon, don’t you -think? Vases not supplied in cabins—lucky for you this is a -three-berther and you’ve got three tooth-tumblers!” - -The flowers disposed of, the work of unwrapping the other parcels went -on swiftly. Chocolate boxes of every shape and size; books; warm -slippers; three cushions; bags to hold everything, from shoes to -sponges; a work-board, fitted with pincushion, thread, scissors, and -other feminine necessities; an electric torch; and a fascinating -wall-pocket of green linen, embroidered in shamrocks, with compartments -for every toilet requisite. - -“Now, that’s an uncommonly jolly thing,” said Jim, surveying it. “Keeps -things all handy-by, and saves ’em rolling about in rough weather. -Whoever sent you that had sense. Come, and we’ll fix it up.” He dashed -away to his cabin, returning with a pocket hammer and some brass tacks. -“Where will you have it?” - -“Oh, here, I suppose!” said Norah, indicating a favourable site. “But -are you allowed to put in tacks, Jim?” - -“Can’t tell till I’ve tried,” said Jim, hammering swiftly. “I’m not -going to ask, anyhow—they’re very decent tacks. There, that’s up, and -it looks topping. Now for shoe-bags.” He fixed them in a neat row on the -wall, while Norah arranged her other small belongings. - -“Gorgeous clearance!” Jim remarked, surveying the cabin with pride. “How -about unpacking now? If I haul these trunks out for you, can you -manage?” - -“Rather!” said Norah, gratefully. “You’ve been a brick, Jimmy, and I -feel much better. I’ll stow away my things in the wardrobe and drawers, -and then I won’t have to haul my trunks often from under the berths.” - -“Don’t you do it at all,” commanded Jim, sternly. “Wal or I will always -be somewhere about, and anyhow, what’s a steward for? Well, I’ll leave -you to fix up your fripperies, and go and fix my own. Call me if you -want me.” - -It was not altogether easy to remain cheerful over the boxes Brownie had -packed so lovingly. The memory of the parting at Billabong was still too -sore; in everything Norah touched she found reminders of the kind old -face, struggling against tears, on that last morning when she had said -good-bye to her. To say good-bye to Murty and the men—even to Black -Billy; to the horses and dogs; to Billabong itself, peaceful and dear in -its fringe of green trees; it had all been hard enough, and she ached -yet at the thought. But Brownie was somehow different, and loved her -better than any one on earth; and she was old, with no one to comfort -her. Norah’s heart was heavy for the dear old nurse as she took out one -neat layer of clothes after another, packed with sprigs of fragrant -lavender that brought the very breath of the Billabong garden. - -Then came a tap at the door, and a neat stewardess looked in. - -“Your father sent me to see if I could help you, miss.” - -“I don’t think so, thank you,” Norah answered, sitting on the floor of -the cabin and looking up at her. “I’ve unpacked nearly everything. -However do people manage when there are three in a cabin this size?” - -“Why, I’ve known four,” said the stewardess, laughing. “Four—and grown -up. Oh, they fit in somehow; the worst of it is if they all happen to be -sick. That is rather hard on them—and on me. You’re very lucky, miss, -to have so much room to yourself.” - -“I suppose I am,” Norah assented, meekly. “It’s a little hard to -realise. Do you ever get sick yourself?” - -“Stewardesses aren’t supposed to—and they haven’t time,” said the -other. “We wouldn’t be much good if we weren’t hardened sailors. -Dinner’s at half-past seven, miss, and the dressing-bugle goes half an -hour before. Shall I come in to fasten your frock?” - -“Yes, please,” Norah answered. “I suppose we’ll be outside the Heads by -then?” - -“Oh, a long way! We’ll be through the Heads at half-past five, and will -have dropped the pilot. The steward will come in at dusk, miss, to shut -your port-hole.” - -Norah looked up in swift alarm. - -“My port-hole? But need I have it shut? I always have my windows open at -night.” - -The stewardess shook her head. - -“You could always have it open, in ordinary circumstances, so long as -the weather wasn’t rough; but not now. It’s the war, you see, miss. -We’re under the strictest regulations not to show any lights at all; so -as soon as it is dusk every window on the ship has to be fastened and -shuttered. We don’t have any deck lights either—not even the port and -starboard lanterns and the mast-head. Coming out, there was a German -warship looking for us, and we got past her in the dark and gave her the -slip; she wasn’t more than ten miles away. She’d have had us, to a -certainty, if we had been lit up.” - -“Good gracious!” said Norah, weakly. - -“You see, miss, when the _Perseus_ has all her lights showing she’s like -an illumination display—any one could see her glow miles away. Our only -chance may lie in slipping by in the dark. And just now the Germans are -keeping a very close look-out on the Australian tracks, because they -hope to cut off the troopships. It makes the voyage very dull, but it -can’t be helped.” - -Cheerful voices came along the alley-way as the stewardess, with a -friendly smile, disappeared. - -“Well, are you fixed up?” Jim asked. “Can Wal come in? Here, we’ll put -these trunks out of your way.” - -“I’m just finished,” Norah said. “How do you think it looks?” - -“Jolly!” said Wally, emphatically, casting glances of approval round the -bright cabin, already homelike with photographs, cushions, flowers and -other dainty belongings. “Why, it might be a scrap of old Billabong, -Nor. Here’s Jimmy with the final touch.” - -Jim had a grey, furry bundle in his arms. - -“It’s only a little ’possum rug,” he said. “Your travelling rug may -often get damp with spray, and it’s rather jolly to have a spare one for -your bunk. Dad and I got it for you.” He spread it out on the berth. -“Will it do, kiddie?” - -“Do!” said Norah, and put her cheek down into the grey softness. “It’s -just a beauty, Jim—you and Dad do think of the loveliest things! -They’re splendid skins; and I’m so glad you had the tails left on. -Doesn’t it make my bed look nice?” - -“You mustn’t say a bed, on board ship,” Jim said, severely. “Beds are -shore luxuries, and this is merely a bunk.” - -“It’s good enough for me,” said his sister happily. “It looks a jolly -place to sleep. I’m ready, Jim; can’t we go on deck? I want to see the -Heads.” - -“We came to bring you,” Jim said, “though there’s half an hour yet. Has -the stewardess been saddening your young mind about your port-hole?” - -“Yes—isn’t it awful! How on earth is one to sleep with one’s window -shut?” - -“Well, it isn’t quite so bad as it seems—though it’s bad enough,” Jim -answered. “As long as there’s a light in your cabin the shutter must be -up; but as soon as you switch it off, it can be opened, only of course -you’re on your honour not to light up again. So I can come in after -you’re in bed and open it for you.” - -“Oh, thank goodness!” Norah said, fervently. “Will it bother you much, -Jim?” - -“It will not. And if you want a light in the night, your little electric -torch won’t matter, if you pull the curtain across the port. We’ve been -asking the purser about it, and he says it will be all right; only they -have to make the regulations very strict, because so many people are -fools about it, and disobey rules altogether if they get half a chance. -A man always has to be on duty, keeping a watch over the side to make -sure that no window is showing an unlawful beam.” - -“Funny, what idiots people can be!” Wally commented. “You wouldn’t think -any one would want to be caught by the Germans.” - -“Oh, there are always people who think they know more than the -authorities,” Jim said, “and who like to show how brave they are. As the -purser says, the owners wouldn’t a bit mind their being exceedingly -courageous with themselves, but they object to their taking chances with -a ship worth a million and a half. Anyhow, there will be trouble for -transgressors on this voyage. Come up on deck.” - -There was a fresh breeze blowing as they reached the head of the -companion; and Wally dived back again for Norah’s coat. The _Perseus_ -was nearing the twin Heads, Point Lonsdale and Point Nepean, that form -the entrance to Port Phillip Bay. On the right lay the little town of -Queenscliff; on the left, barren heights, sparsely covered with scrub, -where, through the glasses, they could see soldiers moving about, -keeping a close watch. A detachment of the Light Horse could be descried -on a rocky point. - -“A ship tried to slip out without her proper clearance papers the other -day,” Wally said. - -“Did she get out?” - -“Not much. The fort at Queenscliff fired a blank shot first, by way of -friendly warning; then, as she didn’t take any notice, they put a shell -just across her bows. Then she paused to ruminate, and came back. She -really wasn’t up to any mischief—it was only a disinclination on the -part of her captain to regard war restrictions. I hear they made him pay -the cost of his own bombardment.” - -“Serve him right,” said Norah, laughing. “Wally, is that the Rip?” - -Outside the Heads could be seen a flurry of broken water—great green -waves that came charging hither and thither, without any of the -regularity of breakers dashing upon a shore. Now and then one broke in a -wild “white horse” that was hastily engulfed in the mass of swirling -green. Sometimes the mass would pile itself up and up in broken hills of -water; then, as though sucked under by some mighty, unseen power, it -subsided, tumbling into fragments and dashing away furiously. A little -steamer was coming through it, rolling so terribly that momentarily it -seemed that she could not recover herself, but must go under. As they -watched, a great wave reared itself up and hit her squarely, burying her -in a cloud of foam. - -“Yes, that’s the Rip,” Wally answered. “My aunt, isn’t that boat having -a lively time!” - -The little steamer emerged—her bluff black bows coming out of the spray -much as a dogged mastiff might emerge from a ducking. She rolled, in the -same whole-hearted fashion, as the next wave slid from under -her—plunging down into a wild gulf of tumbling sea, to struggle up -again on the further side, white foam dashing from her bows. The dense -smoke from her funnels trailed behind her in a solid cloud of black. - -“But she’ll sink!” Norah gasped. - -“Not she!” - -“But—why, she was nearly over then!” - -“She’s used to it,” said Wally, laughing. - -“I never saw such a thing,” ejaculated Norah. “Do you mean to tell me -we’ll be doing that in a few minutes?” - -Some one behind them laughed cheerfully. - -“We’re much too big to dance such jigs as that,” said a friendly -voice—and they turned to see a man in blue uniform smiling at them. -“Don’t you worry—we’ll go through the Rip as though it wasn’t there.” - -“I’m glad to hear it,” said Norah, relieved. - -“I’ve been talking to your father,” said the newcomer; “but as he isn’t -here, I’ll have to introduce myself. My name is Merriton, Miss Linton, -and I’m a highly formidable person, being the ship’s doctor. I’ve heard -all about you from my old friend, Dr. Anderson, in Cunjee; he has sent -me special instructions to look after you. I hope you’re not going to -give me any trouble!” - -“Well, I’m never ill,” said Norah, smiling at the cheery face. “I’m sure -Dr. Anderson didn’t tell you I needed looking after in that way, because -he always says he has never had the satisfaction of giving me medicine!” - -“That’s precisely the sort of person I like to look after,” said the -doctor. “Patients on land are all very well, but a patient in a cabin is -a sad and sorry thing. Thank goodness, the _Perseus_ doesn’t have many -of them; every one seems to come on board in rude health, and to leave, -when the voyage is over, rather ruder. No, I look after the passengers -on the principle of prevention rather than cure; keep ’em moving, keep -’em playing games, keep ’em doing anything that will have a salutary -effect upon their livers and prevent them developing anything resembling -a symptom!” - -“Don’t you get disliked, sir?” Jim asked, laughing. - -“Oh, intensely! But it’s all in the day’s work. They abuse me, and they -never know how much they owe to me. Now we’re nearly through the Heads, -Miss Linton—say good-bye to old Victoria!” - -The ship was just passing the long pier that runs out from Point -Lonsdale, and seems to divide the open ocean from the Bay. They could -plainly distinguish the faces of people standing on the end, watching -them. Beyond lay brown rocks, and the yellow curve of the ocean beach, -with great waves beating upon it; to the left the jagged coast-line -where more than one good ship had met her doom. Straight ahead lay the -Rip. The little steamer had come through the roughest part and was -running towards them. - -Norah looked back. The greater part of the Bay was hidden since the turn -by Queenscliff; she could only see the flat shore-line beyond the town. -A haze had sprung up, obscuring everything. Melbourne was long ago -blotted out. It was as though a veil had fallen between the old life and -the new. - -“Now you’ll see how she takes it, Miss Linton,” said the doctor -cheerily. - -They were through the Heads, and racing outwards; already the swell of -the Rip was under them, and the great steamer rose and fell to it—so -gently that Norah forgot to wonder if she were to be sea-sick or not. -On, swiftly until the broken water was foaming round them, the _Perseus_ -rolling a little as she cut her way through. Then they were out in the -smoother water beyond, with the long ocean swell heaving. A little grey -steamer rocked just beyond. - -“That’s the pilot-boat,” said Wally. “Watch him go.” - -They leaned over the side and watched the grizzled pilot go quickly down -a swinging rope-ladder to a waiting dinghy that had put off from the -grey steamer. It was a kind of acrobatic feat, and Norah breathed more -freely when the old man had landed safely in the tossing little boat. He -took the tiller, and the oarsmen pulled swiftly across to the steamer, -from the deck of which some one shouted last messages to the _Perseus_. - -“So that’s done with,” said the doctor; “and now it’s heigh for -home!—for us, that is. When you’re feeling blue, for want of Australia, -Miss Linton, you can remember that we poor seafaring folk are going to -have the luxury of getting home for Christmas—and that’s a thing that -doesn’t often come our way.” - -“I’m glad you are,” said Norah, soberly. It was easy to feel friendly -with the doctor, even though she was a rather shy person. He was not -very young, but for all that his face was like a boy’s; he had a merry -voice, and his eyes were quick and kindly. When he smiled at her she -felt that she had known him for quite a long time. - -Mr. Linton appeared round a corner of the deck-house. - -“Oh! there you are—I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “People on a -ship of this size take plenty of hunting; I put a deck-steward on the -trail at last, and he’s probably hunting still. Feel all right, Norah?” - -“Yes, thank you,” said Norah, in such evident amazement that every one -laughed. - -“Well, you’ve been through the Rip—and that is an experience that leads -many to take prompt refuge in their cabins,” said the doctor. “Not that -there’s the least excuse for any one being ill on this ship—she’s as -steady as old Time.” - -“Why, I never thought about it,” Norah said. “The girls told me I’d be -ill in the Rip, and I was feeling worried—I was thinking last night how -horrid it would be. But I forgot all about it when it came—it was so -interesting!” - -“You’re not going to be ill at all—put it out of your head,” said the -doctor. Which Norah promptly did, and had no occasion ever to revive -unpleasant memories, since none of the party manifested signs of illness -at any period of the voyage. - -On their way to dress for dinner some one called Mr. Linton back, while -the others waited for him on a wide landing. Close by was the purser’s -office, where a heated altercation was going on between the chief -assistant and the stout individual who had so narrowly caught the ship -at the last moment. - -“Sorry, Mr. Smith,” the assistant was saying. “The purser is -engaged—he’s with the captain.” - -“I have asked for him at least four times, and he has always been -engaged,” said Mr. Smith, angrily. - -“Well, he generally is, on a sailing day. Can’t I do anything? Is your -cabin uncomfortable?” - -“The cabin is well enough. It is about a telegram I must send.” - -The assistant shook his head. - -“No wireless to be used,” he said. “War regulation. You can telegraph -from Adelaide, of course.” - -“That is ridiculous,” said the stout man angrily. “In Australian -waters——” - -“Well, it isn’t my regulation,” the assistant said. “You’d better -complain to the military authorities. No, the purser can’t help you; -why, the captain couldn’t. It’s war precaution, I tell you.” - -Mr. Linton then came up, and the rest of the conversation was lost. They -could hear the stout man’s angry voice as they went down the staircase. - -“Seems in a bad temper,” Wally observed. - -“He’s a hasty person altogether,” said Mr. Linton. “The captain tells me -that he decided only at the last moment to come on this voyage. He -certainly arrived at the last moment!” - -“Hadn’t he a ticket?” asked Jim. - -“Not a ticket—not that that matters, of course, with so empty a ship. -No trouble for them to fix him up. But he seems to expect a good deal, -for an eleventh-hour passenger.” Mr. Linton yawned. “The sea is making -me sleepy already,” he declared, disappearing into his cabin. - -It made Norah sleepy very early that night. After the lengthy dinner was -over, they went on deck, where strolling was difficult because of the -absence of lights; and the rushing water overside was a mysterious mass, -dark and formless. All the best of Norah’s world was with her—and yet -she was homesick. Somewhere beyond the rail over which they leaned was -home; they were lonely at Billabong, and here it was lonely, too. - -She gave herself a little mental shake. After all they were -together—and that was really all that mattered. - -“I’m sleepy,” she declared. - -“Then turn in,” Jim counselled. “I’ll come and open your port when I go -down. Can you find your way?” - -“It’s time I learned, at any rate,” said Norah, sturdily. - -She found it, after a few wrong turns, and made short work of preparing -for bed. The stewardess looked in to find out if she could be of any -use, and went off, with a brisk “good-night.” The cabin was cheery and -homelike—full of the scent of Bush flowers, and pleasant with -photographs, that seemed to smile to her. She was not nearly so lonely -when at last she slipped into bed, under the grey ’possum fur—and the -little bunk was comfortable and quaint, and made her feel that she was -really on board ship. - -Jim looked in presently. - -“Comfy, little chap? And how do you like it?” - -“Yes, very comfy. Jim, I think it’s rather jolly.” - -“Of course it is,” said Jim. “You look snug enough. Sure you’re warm? -And you know where the bell is, in case you want the stewardess?” - -“Oh, I’m not going to want anything!” Norah answered. “I’m too sleepy. -She creaks a lot, doesn’t she, Jim?” - -“Who—the stewardess?” said Jim, puzzled. - -“No, stupid—the ship. If she didn’t creak, and I wasn’t in a bunk, she -would be just like a hotel.” - -“Not much difference,” Jim answered. He switched off the light and -unscrewed the port-hole, going out with a last cheery word. And then -Norah found that there was another difference—through the open port -came the sound of the sea. It rushed and boiled past, splashing on the -side of the ship near her; somehow there was an impression of great -speed, far greater than in daylight. Norah liked the sound. She went to -sleep, with the sea talking to her. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - - OF FISHES AND THE SEA. - -“BEING at sea,” said Wally, thoughtfully, “is very queer.” - -“In what way?” demanded Norah. - -“Well, you forget all about everything else. At least, I do. Don’t you? -It’s only a week since we saw land, but I feel as if I’d never been -anywhere but on this old ship. You wake up in the same creaky old cabin, -and you have the same tub, at the command of the same steward; and you -come up on deck and see the same old sea, and the same faces; nothing -else. Then you walk the same deck, and—oh, do the same old things all -day! Nothing different.” - -“Yes—but it’s all rather jolly,” said Norah. “You like it, don’t you?” - -“Oh, awfully! I don’t care how long it goes on. But I’ve got a queer -feeling that I’ve never done anything else, and never will again.” - -“Well, that’s just stupid!” said Norah, practically. “And if you really -felt like it, I think you’d begin to be dull at once.” - -“Well, there’s something in that,” said Wally. “Of course, one knows -it’s going to end, and that something altogether different is going to -happen. Only one can’t picture it. It’s like being told you’ll die some -day; you know it’s perfectly true, but you don’t believe it.” - -“Wally!” ejaculated Norah, amazed. “What on earth is the matter? Are you -sick?” - -“Sick?” said Wally, staring. “Not me. I was merely reflecting. Can’t a -fellow think?” - -“It’s so unusual, in your case,” put in Jim, who had been silently -smoking. “You might give us a little warning when you go in for these -unaccustomed exercises. All the same, I know what you’re driving at; one -gets into a kind of rut on board ship, without being able to see the end -of it. If one could imagine how things will be in England, it would be -different—but it’s hard to imagine a place you’ve never seen, and under -extraordinary conditions!” - -“So it is,” Norah said. “The end of this voyage is like a dark curtain -across everything. I wish we could see to the other side of it.” - -“So do I,” agreed Wally. “But as we can’t, the best thing is not to -think of it. What are you going to do to-day, Norah?” - -“Oh—just worry through another old day!” said Norah, laughing. “There -isn’t any special plan, I believe.” - -It was a week since they had seen land. They had said a final good-bye -to Australia after a brief stay at Adelaide, spent in scampering round -the bright little city lying at the foot of the Mount Lofty Ranges, and -in a motor-car run through the hills themselves, seeing exquisite -panoramas of plain and sea far below. The almond-orchards were in -blossom; over the plains their wide expanse was like a mist of -shimmering opal. Above, on the foothills, golden wattle blazed for -miles. But South Australia was in the grip of the worst drought in its -history, and the hills were dry and bare, and scarred with the marks of -great bush-fires; it hurt to see the happy country so worn and tired. -They were not sorry when the time came to rejoin the ship, and to steam -down the Gulf and out to sea. - -Somewhere ahead, rumour said, were the Australian transports; the first -contingent of troops had slipped away from Melbourne silently, under -cover of darkness, and no one seemed to know definitely the day of their -going. Rumour went further, saying that they were to coal at an -unfrequented southern port of West Australia; so that the _Perseus_ -would probably draw ahead, without catching sight of the fleet—which -was disappointing. After that, rumour became speculative and varied. One -report stated that the troops were to go to South Africa, to help the -Government there, hard-pressed between rebellion and the enemy; another -gave India as their destination, and another, Egypt; while the majority -still held to the belief that they would be sent direct to France. And -as no one knew any more than any one else, and nothing definite was -known in any quarter, the _Perseus_ buzzed with conjectures and -arguments, the natural result of which was that no one got any -“forrarder.” - -Australia was now far behind them. They had not touched any western -port, but had headed straight for the Indian Ocean, and now were -swinging across it towards South Africa, apparently the only ship afloat -upon its wide expanse. The outward and homeward routes vary, according -to ocean currents, so that ships going and coming rarely meet; and, in -addition, the _Perseus_ was running many miles off her course, in the -hope of eluding German cruisers, of which several were known to be -prowling about, any one of their number ready to pounce upon the -_Perseus_ like a hungry dingo upon a large and very fat lamb. It was, -however, unlikely that any would be so far south as their present -position, and the passengers had been quite unable to stir themselves to -any degree of nervousness. War precautions were observed in obedience to -Admiralty instructions rather than from inward convictions. - -Meanwhile, the voyage was not exciting. To put thirty passengers on -board a ship capable of carrying three hundred and fifty is to produce -an effect similar to that of a few small peas in a large pod. And these -passengers on the _Perseus_ were mostly anxious and pre-occupied people: -full of anxieties connected with the war, and longing so keenly for the -voyage to be over, that the ship and its population held but little -interest for them. A sprinkling of South African settlers were hurrying -homewards; some to fight, and all concerned for the safety of their -properties. There were wives whose husbands were already fighting in -France; grave-faced women, who did not talk much, but counted each slow -day that must elapse before they could obtain news of their dear ones. -Half a dozen young men were on their way to England to enlist -there—ready for any job, so that it only meant business; hoping for a -commission, but quite willing to join as rankers if necessary. One had -his motor-car on board; another had left a vast property in New South -Wales; a third had been pearl-fishing off Port Darwin, and had made his -way right across the desert in the centre of Australia to join the -Expeditionary Force at Adelaide—and finding himself just too late for -the first contingent, had been too impatient to await the formation of -the second, and so had caught the _Perseus_ at the last moment. Two or -three retired British officers, recalled from Australia to the colours, -were on board—with stories, half-comical, half-tragic, of homes broken -up at a moment’s notice on receipt of a curt cable from the War Office. -The cloud that lay upon the whole world rested also on this one atom of -Empire, lonely in a wide sea; there was no topic but War. - -“It’s maddening to be so long without news,” Jim said, leaning over the -rail to watch the white curl of foam breaking away from the bow. “It -seemed long enough to wait for one’s morning paper in Melbourne, even -after you’d seen every ‘special extra’ the day before; and then suddenly -to drop into silence!” - -“You’ve only had a week of silence—and there are eleven days yet to -Durban,” Wally remarked. “No good in worrying yet. I wish they’d let us -use the wireless.” - -“They won’t,” Jim said. “Orders are awfully strict; no wireless except -in case of absolute emergency. Oh, it wouldn’t be good enough; a German -could locate a ship by her wireless to within a few miles. You might as -well put a bell on your neck.” - -“Inventions are going too far nowadays,” said Wally, with deep -disfavour. “Old Marconi had done very well without a further refinement -like that—it’s only lately that they have been able to harness -sound-waves so completely, and I don’t see any real use in it. It’s a -jolly nuisance, anyhow.” - -“Did you ever see any one look so miserable as the sentry?” asked Norah, -laughing. - -A young sailor was on duty at the door of the Marconi-room, standing -sentinel, with rifle and fixed bayonet. It was evident that he had not -been prepared for warlike uses, and his expression also was a fixed one, -full of woe. His mates, passing, grinned at him openly; small cabin-boys -and junior stewards peeped round corners and jeered at him, beseeching -him not to let his bayonet go off. Like Casabianca, he stood at his -post, but without enthusiasm. - -“It would be interesting to see him if any one tried to get in to the -wireless,” said Jim. “I’m sure he wouldn’t run away, but he’d be much -more likely to damage himself than the intruder with that toothpick of -his; I don’t believe he ever handled one before.” - -“Who would want to get in, anyhow?” Wally inquired, lazily. - -“No one, that I know of,” Jim answered. “It would bore most people stiff -to be kept in the Marconi-room for ten minutes. Still, they can’t make -rules for one ship alone, and there may be Germans on board any ship, -able to use the instrument. I suppose if we were on a crowded boat, with -a few suspects with foreign accents scattered among the passengers, we’d -think all the precautions highly desirable; it’s only because we’re on -this peaceful old tub that they seem unnecessary.” - -“I wouldn’t mind their having sentries all over the ship, if they wanted -to—but I’m beginning to feel I would chance any number of Germans for -the sake of fresh air!” said Norah, ruefully. “It’s bad enough to have -your cabin shut up from dusk until you’re in bed—but at least you don’t -stay in it. The rest of the ship just gets stifling.” - -“You see,” said Wally, “if you shut up a ship, you shut so many assorted -smells into her—engine-rooms, cooks’ galley, saloon, cabins, and -people, with a sort of top-dressing of new paint, hot oil, and wash-up -water. Then the gentle aroma of tallow, from the holds, works up through -the lot. Then you don’t breathe any more.” - -“You wish you didn’t, at any rate,” responded Norah, laughing. - -“It beats me, how some of the passengers seem to thrive on it,” Jim -remarked. “Look how they sit in the lounge at night, half of ’em -smoking, and every chink shut up, and play bridge. I’ve come to the -conclusion that they’re made of sterner stuff than we are.” - -“Well, we can’t help it—it’s because we live in the open all the year -round. A stuffy house is bad enough, but a stuffy ship—ugh!” Norah -grimaced, with expression, if not with elegance. “Let’s be thankful we -can live on deck most of the time; it’s always lovely there.” - -“This is where you hail me as your benefactor, by the way,” Jim -observed. “The little cabin next yours is empty; I’ve arranged with your -steward for you to use it as a dressing-room in the evenings, and then -you needn’t have a light in your own cabin at all—and the port needn’t -be shut.” - -“Jimmy, you are an angel!” said his sister, solemnly. “When did you -think of it?” - -Jim had the grace to look sheepish. - -“When it struck me this morning to manage the same thing for myself and -Wal!” he admitted. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of these empty -cabins before. At least it means that we’ll have fresh air to sleep in, -and that’s something.” He broke into a suppressed laugh, hiding it by -renewed attention to the waves. - -“What is it?” asked Norah. - -“That seafaring person,” said Jim, indicating an old quartermaster, who -had passed them with a slightly aloof air, “had an adventure with Wal -and me after you had gone below last night. We were stretched out on our -deck-chairs—the deck as dark as usual, of course, only you know how you -get used to the dim light after a while?” - -Norah nodded. - -“Well, he came suddenly out of the light of a doorway, shutting it -quickly after him, and approached us. We thought he saw us, so we never -thought of speaking; and we only realised that he couldn’t see us at all -when he fell violently on top of us. He hit Wal’s chair first, and -tripped; then he fell across us both and lay face downwards on us for a -moment, with a loud groan—and then he rolled off our knees, and sat up -on the deck, looking the biggest idiot you can imagine. And we hadn’t -any manners—we just howled!” - -“How lovely!” said Norah, twinkling. “What happened?” - -“He fled,” said Jim. “And we went on howling. It was a very cheerful -happening.” - -“No wonder he went past you with his nose in the air,” Norah said. “Poor -old fellow!—it must have been a shock to him.” - -“Not half such a shock as it was to us,” said Wally. “We never asked him -to fall on us—and he’s bonier than you’d think. Next time I would like -to choose a fat, soft quartermaster; this one is simply one of the -horrors of war, when he falls on you. He’s all bony outcrops. Look, -Norah, there’s a porpoise!” - -“One!—why, there’s a school!” Jim said. - -The big creatures were gambolling about a ship’s length away, having -mysteriously appeared from the west. More and more appeared, until the -sea seemed full of them—great, dark forms, shooting into the air in a -curve that was extraordinarily graceful, considering their bulk, and -piercing the waves again with hardly a splash. They came nearer and -nearer, evidently interested in the ship; looking down, Norah could see -them under water, dim shadows shooting through the green depths. For a -while they kept pace with the steamer; then they gradually drew off, as -if in obedience to some invisible signal from their leader, and headed -westward again, until at length the leaping, sleek forms were lost in -the distance. - -“They must be immensely strong beasts,” Wally said. “I remember once -being in the bow of a big steamer going to Queensland, and three -porpoises had quite a game with us—they kept springing into the air and -shooting backwards and forwards in front of the bow—so close to it that -it looked as if they’d be cut in two as they sprang. But they must know -exactly how to judge distance; the bow seemed right on them every time, -but it never touched them. They played with that old ship like three -great puppies—and she was going along at a good rate, too. I must say -I’d like to see a porpoise in a real hurry—he’d be something like a -torpedo!” - -“Nice people,” said Norah, watching the last dark speck in the west. “I -hope they’ll come often. Are we likely to see any whales?” - -“It’s not the season, but you never can tell. Durban is a great place -for them, I believe,” Jim answered. “Mr. Smith saw a great many there -last time he came out.” - -“Mr. Smith seems to be developing an affection for you, Jimmy,” Wally -said. “I saw him deep in soulful intercourse with you before breakfast.” - -“I don’t know about either the soul or the affection,” said Jim—“but -he’s a lonely sort of beggar. No one seems to want him. And he’s really -rather interesting when he gets talking. I can’t quite make out who he -is, or where he comes from; he’s been in Australia for a good bit, and -he says he’s a Canadian, but he doesn’t look like one.” - -“He’s such a bad-tempered animal,” Wally said. “He fell foul of the -purser on his first day on board, and seems to have been fairly uncivil -to the captain; and my steward says he’s a ‘holy terror’ in his cabin. -One of those people who are never satisfied. And he can’t play games or -do anything.” - -“Oh, well, he doesn’t worry us much!” said Jim, easily. “He doesn’t -often want to talk, and when he does, one can’t be rude to him. He’s -very interested in the troopships—has a nephew in the New South Wales -contingent. That’s what we were talking about this morning; he heard me -say I knew a lot of fellows in the crowd, and he wanted to know if I -knew where they were going. His nephew can’t stand heat, he says, and he -doesn’t want him to be in Egypt. I guess he’ll get enough cold in -Flanders before the show is over.” - -“Where’s Mr. Smith going?” inquired Wally. - -“Oh, to London, I think! He isn’t communicative about himself, and I -don’t know what his business is; he has travelled a lot, and knows -Europe pretty well. Quite an interesting animal to talk to. But I -haven’t run across any one with so little interest in the war—he says -he’s lost heavily by it, and that seems to have soured him—he won’t -talk war, except for his beloved nephew. Must be a pretty decent sort of -uncle, I should think.” - -“That sort of person might be all right as an uncle, but I don’t seem to -hanker after him as anything at all, myself,” said Wally. “But you -always used to find some decency in the most hopeless little beggars at -school, Jim.” - -“Oh, well, most people are pretty decent when you come to know ’em a -bit!” said Jim, carelessly. “Anyhow, I believe in thinking they are; -life wouldn’t be worth living if one went round expecting to find the -other fellow a beast. And old Smith isn’t really half bad. Here’s Dad.” - -“Where have you been hiding yourself, Dad?” Norah asked, turning to meet -her father. “We hunted everywhere for you a while ago.” - -“I’ve been up in the captain’s quarters,” explained her father. “He has -very comfortable rooms; we have been smoking and talking. It’s an -anxious position to hold; I wouldn’t care to be captain of a big liner -in the present state of affairs, but it seems to sit lightly enough on -him. At any rate, he doesn’t wear his heart upon his sleeve, and if he’s -worried, his passengers are the last people likely to find it out.” - -“The voyage out must have been exciting,” Wally remarked. “They had a -huge passenger-list, and German cruisers were very plentiful—one only -missed them by a few miles in the dark.” - -“We’re to have boat-drill every week,” said Mr. Linton. “After the drill -for the crew, a double whistle is to summon the passengers; every one -has been allotted a boat-station, under the command of an officer, and -we’re supposed to tumble up pretty sharply and answer to our names. Not -much in it, but it will teach us where to go in case of emergency, and -to know under which officer we should be. Otherwise we should be like a -mob of sheep.” - -The captain, cheery-faced and alert, bore down upon the little group. - -“Has your father been telling you my plans for disturbing your leisure, -Miss Norah?” he asked. At home the captain had small girls of his own; -Norah and he were already great friends. “I hope you won’t find it a -bore; some passengers on the way out considered it beneath their dignity -to turn up to boat-drill, but on the whole they are very good about it.” - -“I think it will be rather fun,” said Norah. “Whose boat are we in?” - -“You’re in the second boat, under the doctor,” replied the captain. “I -shall look to you to aid him, as first mate—with full authority from me -to keep Wally in order, and put him in irons if necessary.” - -“What have I done?” asked Wally plaintively. - -“That’s very satisfactory,” said Norah, laughing, and not heeding the -victim. “Captain, if we had to take to the boats in earnest, what -luggage could we have with us?” - -“H’m,” said the captain, reflectively. “Luggage is a wide term, and it -would entirely depend upon the Germans—they might let people take a -good deal or nothing at all. I wouldn’t have any say in the matter. -There is plenty of room, of course, with so few passengers. I should -recommend you to have a small suit-case with valuables and necessaries, -and as many rugs and coats as you could carry, separately.” - -“Would it be wise to have a suit-case ready packed?” - -The captain laughed. - -“Well, I don’t suppose for a moment that the Germans are going to get -us, Miss Norah,” he said. “Don’t you worry your little head about them. -We take precautions, of course, because that’s common-sense, but they -need not make any one nervous. A lot of passengers on the way out kept -their valuables packed in readiness, and it may have acted as a kind of -insurance against trouble, for the enemy didn’t get us—and they were -near enough. Just please yourself, and don’t get anxious.” - -“Why, I don’t suppose they would hurt the passengers, in any case,” said -Mr. Linton. “War isn’t piracy, captain.” - -“No; not with decent people. And so far the Germans at sea have been -exceedingly decent,” the captain answered. “The _Emden_ has done plenty -of damage, but not to people; her captain must be a very good sort, -judging by the way he has acted towards British who fell into his hands. -No; there might be a certain amount of discomfort, of course, but no -danger. Do you like queer experiences, Miss Norah?” - -“I do,” said Norah, promptly. - -“Then I hope you won’t get this one!” said the captain, as promptly. -“Not on my ship, anyhow. And I don’t think you will, either—the route -will be well guarded, and we don’t run risks. You must look on -boat-drill as just one of the games the doctor advocates—designed to -keep you all from getting fat and lazy. And there’s a whale blowing over -there—can you see?” - -Norah turned in excitement, and could just see the faint spout of water -on the horizon. - -“Is that all?” she said, disgustedly. “Won’t he come any nearer?” - -“I’m afraid that one won’t,” said the captain; “he’s a long way off, and -we’re going fast. But don’t say I didn’t provide you with diversions, -Miss Norah—porpoises and leviathans of the deep, and boat-drill!” He -laughed at the disappointed face. “A whale is really a dull, old thing, -until you get to close quarters, but you needn’t say I said so—they’re -one of our stock attractions. I must go”—and he went, swiftly, with -quick greetings for passengers on the way. The captain possessed in full -that valuable attribute of captains of liners—at the day’s end each -passenger used to feel that he or she had been the special object of -“the skipper’s” attention and interest. It is this quality which helps -to lead to the command of big ships. - -Some one came up and carried off the boys and Norah to a game of -deck-tennis—which is played with a rope quoit across a net, and -provides as much strenuous exercise and as many bruised knuckles as the -most exacting could demand. Mr. Linton found his deck-chair and a book, -and the long, lazy morning went by imperceptibly, as do all mornings on -board ship. At luncheon, there were rumours of news—some one had heard -that the wireless operator was in communication with a ship, and there -ensued a buzz of speculation. The captain, entering, was appealed to by -a dozen voices. - -“No news at all,” said he, sitting down. “The operator heard a British -warship speaking somewhere, a long way off; she speaks in code, but they -know the preliminary signals.” - -Mr. Smith, looking slightly anxious, shot out a question. - -“That does not mean danger to the troopships, I hope, captain?” - -“I shouldn’t think so,” said the captain. “There’s no reason that it -should; with a big convoy like that the warships will be spread out, and -they must exchange messages. It’s probably of the simplest nature—only -we don’t know anything about it, so I can’t enlighten any one.” He gave -a little laugh. “I suppose there is no use in my mentioning that the -best advice I can give you all is to forget that there is a war?” - -Mr. Smith, returning to his soup, was heard to murmur something -unintelligibly about his nephew. He looked worried and pre-occupied; and -when his neighbour, who happened to be the pearl-fishing man from Port -Darwin, asked him a question, he hesitated, stammered, and finally gave -an answer so incoherent that the other stared. - -“He’s a rum chap, that,” the Port Darwin man, John West, confided to -Jim, later. “You’d almost think he had something on his mind. Anybody -after him, do you think?” - -“Well—he joined the ship in a hurry at the last moment,” Jim said. -“Naturally, he didn’t mention if any one were on his track.” - -“If you come to that, I did the same thing myself,” said West, laughing. -“Going down to Port Adelaide, I was thinking I should have to chase the -old ship down the Gulf in a motor-boat! So I can’t very well afford to -talk about Smith. And I daresay he’s all right—he’s only worried about -his precious nephew. I told him at lunch that there were heaps of other -people’s nephews in the contingent, so his wouldn’t be lonesome; but it -did not seem to comfort him to any noticeable extent. There isn’t much -emotion left for a wife or mother when a mere uncle takes on like -Smith!” - -“He’s a man of feeling—and there aren’t many among you hard-headed -young Australians!” said the doctor, laughing in his turn. “You can’t -understand a man showing any emotion at all. Smith, being fat and soft, -is different—that’s all. Look at him now.” - -They were sitting in the deck-lounge, smoking. A few yards away Mr. -Smith came into view, an unlit cigar in his mouth. His broad face was -almost comically lined and perplexed, and he passed them without any -sign of observing them. Immediately behind him came Norah, encumbered -with a large, restless baby. - -“Wherever did you get that thing, Norah?” Jim called to her. - -“He isn’t a thing,” said Norah, indignantly. “He’s a very nice -person—only his mother is apt to get a bit tired.” - -“I don’t wonder,” said the doctor, as the baby executed a leap that -would have been a somersault but for his bearer’s firm grip. “Is he -training for a porpoise, do you think? Come and sit down, Miss -Norah—he’s too heavy to be carried for long at a stretch.” - -Norah sat down thankfully, and the baby graciously accepted the doctor’s -silver tobacco-box, and proceeded to concentrate all his energies on -opening it. - -“What have you done with his mother?” - -“Oh, she has gone to lie down—she has a headache, and the baby doesn’t -give her much peace,” Norah answered. “He’s really quite good if you -show him things. We’ve been looking for whales—but whales are so -uninteresting in the distance.” - -“I wish I could show you some giant rays I saw once,” the doctor said. -“We were going up the coast from Bombay to Karachi in a British-India -turbine boat, and after breakfast one morning on a calm day there were a -lot of them jumping about two miles off. They’re worth seeing when they -jump. You know their shape—enormous flat things—and they came out of -the water with a sort of gradual upward rush, like a hydroplane lifting, -rise about ten feet from the water, and then come down flat—whop! It’s -like a billiard-table falling on the water.” - -“Whew!” said Wally. “I’d like to see them. What size do they run to?” - -“I could tell you of one that measured thirty feet from nose-tip to -tail-tip, and sixteen feet from side to side—only people don’t always -believe the yarn, and it discourages me,” said the doctor, with a -twinkle in his eye. - -“Go on, doctor—we promise to believe anything!” Jim assured him. - -“As a matter of fact, the story is sober truth—but it was a queer -coincidence,” the doctor said. “We were talking about these big rays to -the first officer of the ship, that morning, and he told us that about -two years before, a ship in which he was second mate had run into one of -them in those same latitudes. It got across the bow, simply wrapped -round it, and was drowned by being dragged through the water. They got a -rope on to it and lifted it aboard by a windlass. It was the one of -which I told you—measured thirty by sixteen.” - -“What would he weigh?” - -“Oh—tons. I caught a ray once in the Andaman Islands; it was a small -one, four feet from side to side, and ten feet long—six or seven feet -of that was tail. It weighed a hundred and forty pounds. So you can -calculate the big one, Miss Norah.” - -“No, thank you,” said Norah, hastily. “We’ll call it tons.” - -“Well, the first officer of our ship had photographs of that brute -hanging up in Karachi, where he said they had taken it, for exhibition. -Of course, it might have been any big ray, hanging anywhere; I’m afraid -most of us put it down as a sailor’s yarn, rather more circumstantial -than usual. But this is where the queer part of my story comes in.” - -The baby drummed happily on the table with the tobacco-box, and gurgled. - -“The kiddie likes it, anyhow,” said Jim, laughing. “Go on, doctor.” - -“That was about ten o’clock in the morning. We watched the rays as long -as they remained in sight, and then forgot all about them. After lunch -the skipper noticed that our speed was wrong; he had been suspicious for -some time, and on testing it by the patent log he found we were doing -only eleven knots instead of fifteen. That sort of thing annoys a -skipper, especially when there is no reason for it. So he rang up the -engine-room and asked what revolutions she was making, and was told that -she was doing her fifteen knots. The captain argued the point with some -warmth; the chief engineer defended his engines with equal vigour, and -finally they came to the conclusion that something was wrong.” - -“Not a leak?” - -“Oh, no! I happened to stroll up to the bow about that time; it’s the -quietest place on the ship, and I like it—and looking over, I saw -something half in and half out of the sea, for all the world like a -thick white sheet wrapped round the cutwater. It beat me for a few -minutes—the foam from the waves partly concealed it—and then I saw -that it was one of these huge rays. The ship had run into it and broken -its back, just as the chief officer had described—and it had revenged -itself by reducing our speed by four knots!” - -“Well!” said Norah. “Did you all go and apologise to the chief officer?” - -“It might have pained him to know we’d even doubted him,” said the -doctor, laughing. “We made our apologies—mentally. The thing was -exactly as he had described. We wanted the skipper to stop and get it -aboard, but he was sufficiently disgusted with the delay it had already -caused; and it would have taken a good while to rig up a derrick. So he -had the engines reversed, and we backed slowly astern, and as soon as -the pressure of the water against it was released, Mr. Ray dropped off. -I think he was even bigger than the one the chief officer had measured.” - -“Well, it would be a good deal of fish that you would need to wrap round -the stern, to bring down the speed of a big ship,” said Jim. “I wish -you’d got him on board, doctor.” - -“So do I—there were batteries of cameras waiting for him; and the -skipper was unpopular for fully twelve hours,” said the doctor. -“Skippers, however, have to be stern men, and indifferent to questions -of popularity—where the coal bill is concerned. Owners and coal bills -remain long after passengers are a misty memory; and you can’t appease -owners—not even with a fish story!” He patted the baby’s head, rescued -his tobacco-box, and was gone. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - - WHAT NORAH SAW. - -“BOTHER!” said Norah, with vexation. - -She sat up in bed in the dark. From the skylight over her door a very -faint light filtered in from the shaded lamp in the alley-way; but the -cabin was very gloomy. - -“Toothache is bad enough in the day,” murmured Norah, indignantly. “But -when it wakes one up at night——!” She put her hand to her face, trying -to still the throbbing of the offending tooth; obtaining no relief, as -was natural, seeing that for half an hour she had been trying such -simple means, aided by the warmth of her pillow. The tooth had refused -to be soothed; it was evident that sterner measures were demanded. - -“Now, if I could remember where I put that bottle of toothache -stuff——!” she pondered. “Brownie packed it, I know, and I’m sure I -unpacked it; but where did I put it? And I can’t switch on my light to -look. Bother the old Germans!” - -She slipped out of bed. The breeze blew in sharply through the open -port-hole, and shivering a little, she groped for her dressing-gown and -slippers, and, having donned them, drew the curtain across the -port-hole. Then she found her little electric torch, and blinked as its -ray illuminated the cabin. - -“That’s better,” she reflected. “Now for that horrid little bottle.” - -It is not very easy to hunt for a small object in drawers and boxes when -one hand is occupied in pressing the button of an electric torch; and -the search was somewhat prolonged. Finally, the missing toothache cure -turned up in the retirement of a work-bag, and Norah thankfully applied -it to the troublesome tooth. By this time she was cold and tired—glad -to get back to the warm comfort of bed. - -Peace, however, did not last long. In a very few minutes a heavy step -sounded in the alley-way, and an authoritative tap at her half-open -door. - -“Who’s there?” said Norah, quaking. - -“Quartermaster, ma’am,” said a deep voice. “Officer of the watch wants -to know if your port is uncovered. Light showing on this side.” - -Norah explained briefly. - -“My curtain was drawn,” she finished; “and my little torch doesn’t give -much light. The purser said I might use it.” - -“The purser doesn’t have to stand watch at night,” said the -quartermaster, acidly. “That there torch of yours must give more light -than you think, ma’am. Orders are to close your port if found open and -light showing. Can I come in, ma’am?” - -He came in; a sternly official figure in oilskins, bearing a shaded -lantern. At the sight of the dismayed little figure with the mass of -disordered curls, he relented somewhat. - -“Oh, it’s you, miss! Now, didn’t you know you was disobeying orders?” - -“No, I didn’t,” said Norah, sturdily. “I had leave. And that is all the -light my little torch gives.” She pressed the button. - -“Well, it don’t look exactly powerful and that’s a fact,” remarked the -quartermaster. “Still, orders is orders—and you’d be surprised to see -how a light shines out through a winder, miss, when you’re lookin’ down -from the bridge.” - -“Well, I won’t light it again—not at all—if only you’ll leave the port -open,” Norah pleaded. “The ship is stuffy enough without having one’s -cabin stuffy too.” - -“Lor, you should put your nose into our quarters, miss!” remarked the -quartermaster. “No draughts up there, I promise you! We wouldn’t sleep -easy with all this cold air a-blowin’ in.” He looked at Norah’s -distressed face. “Well, if you give me your word there won’t be any more -light, miss, I might chance it.” - -“Not if I have fifty teeth aching—I promise!” said Norah gratefully. -“Thank you ever so much, quartermaster.” - -“Don’t mention it,” said the sailor, affably. “Good-night miss—or -rather good-morning! It ain’t far off dawn.” He tramped out, leaving the -cabin redolent of oilskins and hot lantern. - -Jim, a few hours later, was indignant. - -“I never heard such bosh,” he said, warmly. “Light—why, that little -torch couldn’t be seen a dozen yards away! I wonder who was the officer -of the watch. I’d like to speak to him.” - -“Oh, don’t bother, Jimmy!” said Norah. “It must show more than we -thought, or they couldn’t have seen it, that’s clear. And for all we -know, I may never want to use it again. If I do, I’ll rig up a dark -serge skirt over the port-hole, and I’m sure no one could see a chink of -light then. - -“Well, it’s rather a bore to have to do that in the dark, but I suppose -there’s no help for it,” said Jim. “And there is really nothing to be -gained by speaking to headquarters, I suppose; if the light shows, it -mustn’t be permitted, and that’s all about it. I’m glad the -quartermaster was decent over it, anyhow.” - -“Oh, he was a dear! he might have shut the port-hole, and he didn’t. But -I’m sorry the officer should think I disobeyed orders,” added Norah. - -“I’ll fix that up with him, if I get a chance,” said her brother. “And -don’t you go making a habit of getting toothache and lying awake at -night; it isn’t good for you.” He gave her hair a friendly tweak. “Come -up on deck; Wally will be looking for us.” - -It occurred to Norah two nights later, that she was in a fair way to -disobeying at least part of Jim’s injunction. Toothache had not visited -her, certainly; but she had a most unusual fit of wakefulness. It was a -still night, mild and close; scarcely any breeze came through her -port-hole. Early in the night she had found the grey ’possum rug too hot -and had cast it off; then a blanket followed suit; and still she was hot -and restless, and the little bunk seemed suddenly narrow and -uncomfortable. - -She got up at last, put on her dressing-gown and leaned out of the -port-hole. Without, the night was very dark; somewhere, a storm was -brewing, and all the stars had disappeared. A faint, occasional glow of -phosphorescence shone from the water racing past. There was refreshment -in the cool touch of the night air upon her hot face. Norah liked the -sea at night; even though now she could scarcely see it, it was there, -great, and quiet, and companionable, with something soothing in the -gentle touch of the water on the side of the ship. She liked it best -when it came in waves that dashed cheerily beneath her port, breaking in -a scatter of star-lit foam; but to-night it was dark and mysterious, and -if you were wakeful it was easy to weave stories about it, and to -picture tropic islands where just such seas lapped lazily on white coral -beaches. In the daytime, Norah was a very practical person, and rarely -thought of weaving stories. At night everything seemed different and -strange; and the sea took possession of her imagination and whispered to -her all sorts of queer things that she could never have told to any -one—not even to Dad and Jim. They would have been kind and sympathetic, -of course, and would never laugh at her; but they would probably have -questioned themselves as to whether she were quite well. - -As she leaned out, watching, the little phosphorescent gleams on the -water came and went fitfully; sometimes barely a glimmer, and then a -stronger gleam that rested for a moment on the crest of a lazy swell. So -black was the night that every tiny fragment of light seemed twice its -real size—and when dark water rolled over the faint sparkles, the gloom -seemed a hundred-fold deeper. Presently, however, the little -intermittent flashes grew stronger, and the periods of complete darkness -less frequent. - -“I do believe it’s getting into the air,” Norah murmured. “I never heard -of phosphorescence in the air, but that doesn’t say it may not be -there!” She leaned further. “There!—that flash wasn’t in the water, I’m -sure.” - -It had not seemed so—still it was a little difficult to tell where the -water ended and the dark bulk of the ship began. She watched, keenly -interested; this was a new natural phenomenon—something to tell dad and -the boys in the morning. The little flashes in the air came again; and -at the same moment, far below, a curl of phosphorescence on a long wave. - -“Why!” said Norah, in amazement—“why, it’s quite different. It’s not -the same light at all!” - -It was not the same. The glimmer on the water was a pure white -radiance—almost the ghost of light; but this flash in the air was quite -another thing. It came more regularly now; and Norah, searching the side -of the ship with wide eyes of curiosity, saw that its origin seemed to -be in one place alone; she could not tell how it came. -Flash—flash—flash. Then comprehension swooped upon her, and she gasped -in amazed horror. - -“Why!—it’s some one signalling!” - -The flashes came and went, intermittently, yet with a certain -regularity. It was puzzling; she could not see their beginning, or what -caused them, and yet they were there—in the air, more than coming from -the ship; ghostly, mysterious rays. Still, the longer Norah watched, the -more certain she felt that this was something wrong—something coming -stealthily from the steamer—sending a hidden message over the water. - -She slipped down, and stood inside her cabin, breathing quickly. Her -first impulse, to ring for the night-steward, she put aside; she must be -more certain first. The night-steward was an unintelligent person, and -might raise a wild alarm, or simply laugh at her; and neither -alternative seemed to meet the case. She must be quite certain before -taking any one into her confidence. - -Her little electric torch came into her mind. She found it, and managed -to wriggle one small shoulder and arm as well as her head, through the -port-hole; then, twisting to obtain a clear view along the side of the -ship, she pressed the button. The little beam shot out and for an -instant she could see the dark hull and the long line of ports like -black eye-holes. The second from her own was obscured by what Norah -recognised as a wind-scoop—the long tin funnel, like a grocer’s mammoth -scoop, with which each cabin was fitted. They used them in the tropics, -her steward had told her, screwed into each port to project outwards and -catch more air and so suck it into the cabin. This wind-scoop was fitted -in the wrong way; its wide part uppermost, so that the port-hole was -completely screened from the deck above. It was only a second that Norah -looked, but that glance was enough. She released the button of the -torch, and wriggled back into the cabin. - -“I think I’ll get Jim,” she said, shivering a little in her excitement. -“This job is too big for me!” - -She found her dressing-gown and a pair of noiseless slippers, and -hurried down the dim alley, wondering how she should explain her -presence if she met a steward or any of the watch. But it was three -o’clock in the morning, when even night-stewards grow sleepy; there was -no one visible. Faint snores came from sundry cabins as she passed. She -came to Jim’s door; it was wide open, the curtain drawn across it. Norah -tapped on it gently. - -“Jim! Jim!” she said, very softly. - -“Who’s there?” came a voice, prompt, but sleepy. - -“It’s me—Norah.” - -“What’s wrong?—is Dad ill?” Jim was out of bed, wide awake in an -instant. - -“No, he’s asleep. But there’s some one signalling, Jim!” - -“Well, that’s the ship’s business,” said Jim, in natural bewilderment. -“There are plenty of people on deck to receive signals. What are you -worrying for, kiddie? Go back to bed.” - -“Oh, it isn’t any one signalling to us!” Norah answered, impatiently. “I -wouldn’t have waked you for that, Jimmy. But there’s some one in a cabin -near mine sending out signals.” - -“Are you certain?” Jim asked, incredulously. - -“I’ve been watching for a long time. He’s got a wind-scoop fixed over -his port-hole, so as to screen it from the deck. It’s on this side; look -out of your own port, and you’ll see the flashes. Go on—I’ll wait.” - -Jim sprang to his port-hole. A sleepy voice came from Wally’s berth, -demanding what was up? - -“Look out here, Wal,” said Jim’s voice, from the darkness, in a quick -whisper. “Can’t you see flashes? There’s some queer game on. Norah saw -it first, and woke me.” - -There was never any hesitation on the part of Wally between being -profoundly asleep and broad awake. He was at Jim’s side in a bound, -craning his neck through the narrow opening. Then the two boys faced -each other in the dark. - -“This is a nice little find,” Jim ejaculated. “There are no officers’ -quarters down here, are there?” - -“No; nothing but passengers. Do you know who have cabins on this side?” - -“There’s West,” Jim said, considering—“and Grantham, that New South -Wales fellow, and I think Mrs. Andrews. I don’t know who else.” - -“I’m coming in—I’m lonely!” said Norah, from the door. She groped her -way in, suddenly relieved to find Jim’s hand on her shoulder. - -“Poor little kiddie!” he said. “A jolly good thing you saw it. Is it -next cabin to yours?” - -“No—the one after the next—that’s vacant,” Norah said. “It’s the -little one where I dress. The light comes from the one next to that. I -don’t know who sleeps in it—it opens on a different alley-way. You -don’t think we’re making a mistake, Jim? I was so afraid you’d think I -was a duffer to come to you.” - -“Indeed I don’t,” Jim answered. “It’s no right thing, whatever it is. -We’ll go along to your cabin and look out—it’s closer to the enemy.” - -They filed along the gloomy alleys, silently, with hurried steps. -Further inspection from Norah’s port-hole only confirmed the boys’ -previous opinion. They held a council of war, whispering in the -darkness. - -“Let’s make a dash for him, whoever he may be,” said Wally. “If we -spring in and surprise him he can’t get away, and the wind-scoop will be -evidence; no other cabin has one sticking out.” - -Jim hesitated. - -“That won’t do,” he said at length. “He isn’t such a fool as not to have -his door bolted—and a wind-scoop is evidence to a certain extent, but -it won’t convict a passenger of signalling. He might simply deny any -light, and say he had a passion for more air.” - -“Much air he’d get with the scoop in that way!” objected Wally. “The -broad part has to be against the wind.” - -“Yes, but lots of passengers don’t know how to fix them. I don’t see -that we can run this by ourselves, Wal—we’ll have to get an officer and -let him see the flashes. We don’t want to make fools of ourselves; and -there is a chance that it may be something we don’t understand, and -quite all right.” - -“Oh, all serene!” Wally agreed. “If you’ll watch I’ll go and report it -on the bridge. I expect they’ll have to come in here, Norah—do you -mind?” - -“Of course she doesn’t—and it wouldn’t matter to them if she did!” said -Jim in an impatient whisper, cutting across Norah’s quick disclaimer. -“Hurry, Wal—it would be awful if he knocked off and went to bed!” - -Wally sped for the door, a dim vision of haste, lean and long in his -pyjamas. Disaster awaited him—his foot caught in the fur rug trailing -from Norah’s berth, unseen in the gloom, and he fell violently against -the half-open door. It crashed into a wardrobe behind it, with a clatter -of timber and falling bottles within. The noise echoed through the -silent ship. - -“Oh, Lord!” said Jim, disgustedly, his head through the port-hole. -“That’s finished him, I guess.” - -The flashes of light ceased abruptly. Silence fell again—and then Mr. -Linton’s voice. - -“What’s that? Are you all right, Norah?” - -“Yes, she’s all right,” answered Wally, ruefully—his bruises nothing in -comparison with his deep abasement. “Jim’s here, sir—come in. We’re -spy-hunting, and I’ve spoilt the show. Oh, I am a blithering ass!” - -“But what on earth——?” began Mr. Linton, justifiably bewildered. Norah -whispered a hasty explanation. - -“You couldn’t help it,” she finished, consolingly to Wally. “I ought to -have remembered about the rug.” - -“I ought to have been careful where I was going,” said the disconsolate -Wally. “Trust me to mess up a good thing!—why ever did you wake me? He -might have been in irons now, but for me! I ought to be put in ’em -myself.” He sat down on the edge of the berth and groaned in a whisper. - -“Cheer up,” said Jim, coming softly from the port-hole. “The show’s over -for to-night, I expect, but I really think he’s given himself away—the -flashes stopped the instant the noise came, and after a few minutes the -wind-scoop was very gently taken in. We’ll get him yet. Come on back to -bed.” - -“Aren’t you going to report it?” - -“What have we got to report? There is no evidence now—not even a -wind-scoop. Whoever is in that cabin has probably unbolted his door by -this time, and if any one came to investigate, he would be sleeping -peacefully. And it’s getting towards morning—he can’t do much more -to-night, in any case.” - -“I think you’re right,” Mr. Linton said. “Go back to your cabin now, -boys, and let Norah get to bed. We’ll hold a council in the morning.” -The boys tip-toed away, and Norah crept into her berth, perfectly -certain that she was far too excited ever to sleep again. - -Then she suddenly found that she was very tired; and in five minutes she -was sound asleep. The ship had not been disturbed by the sudden clamour -of a moment; it was perfectly silent, in the sleepy hush before the -dawn. Without, the second port-hole from her own loomed round and black. -No further flashes came from it to mingle with the phosphorescent -glimmer on the water below. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - - DETECTIVE WORK. - -A deputation of three paused at the foot of the ladder leading to the -captain’s quarters. - -“You can’t keep it to yourselves,” Mr. Linton had said. “If there’s -nothing in it, you might get yourselves into a good deal of trouble by -interfering; and if your suspicions are correct, you want authority -behind you. In either case the captain might resent your not reporting -the matter to him. No, I won’t come; it’s your own party. I didn’t get -out of my excellent bed in the small hours of the morning and wander -round the ship acting Sherlock Holmes!” - -“Norah, The Human Sleuth!” murmured Wally, admiringly. - -Norah reddened. In the commonplace light of day she felt a little shaken -about her discovery. It had seemed very certain in the night; now she -wondered if it were indeed quite so sure a thing. Uncomfortable visions -of bursting into the cabin of perhaps an innocent old lady, filled her -mind. - -“Be quiet!” said Jim, patting his chum on the head with more vigour than -consideration. “Who upset himself?” - -“That isn’t decent of you,” said Wally, rubbing his pate. “I’m still -bruised, in mind and body. It’s evident that there’s nothing of the -sleuth about this child. Well, you and Norah can go to the skipper.” - -“Indeed, you’re coming too,” said Jim. “You saw the light as well as we -did.” - -“And messed up the show, without any assistance,” Wally added, sadly. - -“Don’t be an old stupid,” said Norah. “If this show is a show at all, it -isn’t a matter of one night only. We’ll get him, if he’s there to be -got.” - -“Of course we shall,” Jim said. “Well, we might as well go and hunt up -the captain.” - -“Wait until eleven o’clock,” counselled his father. “Most of the -passengers are pretty well taken up then, between beef-tea and games, -and you’re likely to find the boat-deck empty; it’s just as well not to -court observation when you attack him in force.” So the deputation -possessed its soul in what patience it might until the coast was fairly -clear, and then made a rapid ascent to the upper deck. - -“Shall we send him a message?” Norah asked, stopping at the foot of the -ladder. - -“No, I don’t think so,” Jim answered. “This is a private call, and we -don’t want attention drawn to it. Come on.” They plunged up the steep -steps and knocked discreetly. - -“Come in,” said the captain’s voice; and they entered, to find not only -Captain Garth, but the chief officer, comfortably ensconced in easy -chairs; at sight of whom the deputation stopped, in some confusion. - -“I beg your pardon,” Jim said; “we ought to have found out if you were -engaged.” - -“By no means—it’s all right,” said the captain, cheerfully. “Mr. Dixon -and I were merely discussing affairs of state—the weight of brown -trout, I think it was, eh, Dixon? Sit down, Miss Norah. Is it very -private, or can Mr. Dixon stay?” - -“It’s certainly private,” Jim said, laughing; “but I should think Mr. -Dixon had better stay, or you might have the trouble of getting him -back, captain.” - -“It sounds alarming,” said the skipper. “May I smoke, Miss Norah?—thank -you. I’ll feel better able to bear it, with a pipe, whatever it is. Not -mutiny, I hope, Jim?” - -“You may think it’s nothing at all,” Jim answered “But we thought we’d -better tell you.” He made his story as brief as possible, watching the -captain’s face—which darkened as he heard, while Mr. Dixon’s remained -frankly incredulous. - -“If this is so, what’s the watch doing, Dixon?” was the captain’s first -question. - -“The watch is generally pretty well on the look-out,” the chief officer -said. “Only a night or two before, Miss Norah, here, was telling me they -raided her cabin because a light was coming from it.” He stopped, for -Norah had given a hasty jump. A sudden flash of comprehension -illuminated a puzzle that had remained in a corner of her mind. - -“I don’t believe it was my light they saw at all!” she exclaimed. “I -never could make out how it could be. Jim, don’t you think it must have -been the same flashes that we saw?” - -“By Jove!” said Jim. “That explains it—I couldn’t understand why they -went for you and your little torch.” - -“You might tell me what it means,” said the captain, patiently. “I’d -know more if you did!” - -“My port was open—but the curtain was drawn across it,” Norah -explained. “I wanted some toothache stuff, so I was using my little -electric torch—it’s only a wee one, and I’m just certain it couldn’t -throw any light through the curtain and outside. But the quartermaster -came down and complained. I don’t believe it was my cabin at all that -they saw—it was the one we were watching last night.” - -“Yes,” exclaimed Wally, “and, ten to one, whoever it was heard the -quartermaster raiding you, and profited by the warning. And then he -thought of fitting in his wind-scoop so that it would shut out his light -from the deck above.” - -“That’s possible, of course,” Mr. Dixon said. “Those wind-scoops jut out -a good way; I don’t believe any one looking down would see a light -shielded by one. The watch is well kept—but all that the men think of -looking for is a decided ray of light from a cabin window.” - -“H’m!” said the captain. “You didn’t find out who occupies the suspected -cabin?” - -“No,” Jim answered. “We thought of doing so, but Dad reckoned it might -excite suspicion if we took any steps. So we haven’t done anything.” - -“Quite right. The purser can tell me easily enough.” The captain paused, -and knitted his brow in thought. - -“Well,” he said, at length, “it may be innocent enough—but it doesn’t -sound so. I’m giving you three credit for being fairly acute observers; -I don’t think you’d jump to wild conclusions.” - -“We were awfully scared of making fools of ourselves!” Jim said, -laughing. - -“Very wholesome feeling. Anyhow, I’ll speak to the purser, and make a -few inquiries. And as it’s your case, so to speak, perhaps you would all -come up here this afternoon and have tea with me, and I’ll tell you -anything I’ve found out. Bring your father.” - -“Thanks, awfully,” said the deputation, greatly relieved at being taken -so seriously. - -“I don’t think I need mention that ‘a still tongue makes a wise head,’ -or any sage proverb of that description?” said the captain, with a -smile. - -“I don’t think so,” Jim answered. “If you have a raid, Captain, may we -be in it?” - -“I’ll see,” said the captain. “Too soon to make rash promises—and your -father might have a word to say in the matter. We’ll have a talk about -it this afternoon. You can tell any one that you’re going to hear my -gramophone.” He smiled at them encouragingly, and the deputation, -understanding that it was dismissed, withdrew. On the boat-deck, it -broke up into three, each unit rejoining the main body of the passengers -separately, with an elaborate air of unconcern. - -“We were wondering what had become of you,” remarked John West, whom -they found, with two or three of the younger men, talking to Mr. Linton. -“Some one was hunting for you two fellows to play cricket.” - -“Sorry,” Jim said. “Are they playing?” - -“I don’t think so—it fell through. There are really not enough -passengers to get up games. Some of the more energetic are talking of a -sports committee—but I’m dead against it this side of Durban. We shall -probably pick up more people there.” - -“You’re coming on to London?” Jim asked. - -“Oh, yes—Grantham and Barry and I mean to stick together if we can, and -try to get into the same crowd; we don’t care what it is, but we’d -prefer a mounted one. You two had better come along with us. We’d be a -pretty useful lot.” - -“Thanks,” said the boys, flattered at the invitation from older men. “It -would be jolly.” - -“I’m a bit doubtful as to its being jolly at all,” said Grantham, -laughing. “From all I can read it’s going to be a particularly beastly -business, and I rather think a good deal of the ‘romance of war’ will -disappear over it. The only thing is that it would be less jolly to stay -out of it.” - -“Yes; you’d feel a bit of a waster, to stand out, wouldn’t you?” West -said. “Everybody’s going to be in it before long, I’ll bet—it will be a -sort of International Donnybrook Fair.” He raised his voice to include -Mr. Smith, who was standing by the rail, looking out to sea. “Going to -join when you get home, Smith?” - -“To join?” said the stout one, turning. “To join what?” - -“Oh, just the little old Army! You’re not going to be out of the fun, -are you?” - -Mr. Smith shrugged his shoulders. - -“I’m too old,” he said. “Men of my age aren’t wanted—it’s youngsters -like you and those boys. Very useful you’ll be, if you get there. But -for me—well, there is the Rifle Club of which I’m a member; and they -may make me a special constable. That requires heroism, if you like—to -march up and down a sloppy London street in the pouring rain for four -hours each night, knowing just how much use you would be if anything -went wrong.” - -“But why wouldn’t you be of use?” Norah asked. - -“Why?—because I am not young. Nobody is much use who is elderly—and -fat. One gets flabby and one’s muscles become soft and limp. Only one’s -head remains. Therefore, I cultivate my head.” - -“For the sake of your country?” Grantham asked, laughing. - -Mr. Smith nodded. - -“Just so—for the sake of my country. We cannot all serve in the same -way. Somewhere or other there will be a job of work for me, and I shall -try to hold down my job, as the Americans say. No one can do more than -that.” He laughed good-humouredly. “So when you are marching by in -khaki, you can spare a thought for the poor, chilly special constable -who keeps the streets clear for you to pass, or performs some equally -dull and ordinary duty—and gets no fun out of it; not even a medal.” - -“You under-rate your capabilities, Mr. Smith,” said Mr. Linton, -laughing. “No one who saw you racing down the pier at Melbourne could -regard you as either elderly or decrepit.” - -“Well—perhaps not yet. But fat—yes!” Mr. Smith smiled deprecatingly, -casting a downward glance at his ample figure. “I fear I am no longer a -stayer; and in a trench I would certainly take up too much room. So I -curb my ambitions. But there will be a job for me somewhere, though it -may not be a showy one.” His smile widened, including all the little -group; then the chief engineer passed, and Mr. Smith fell into step with -him and strolled off along the deck. - -“Jolly decent of the old chap,” said Grantham. “I like a man who doesn’t -talk much, but is ready to take his share; and somehow, you don’t expect -it from a lazy-looking, comfortable business man of his type.” - -“No,” said Barry. “People like us go in as much for the fun of it—the -adventure—as anything; but he can’t anticipate experiences like that. -Just shows you can’t judge any one; I’d have put old Smith down as an -arm-chair patriot, if ever there was one, but he seems anxious to be -thoroughly uncomfortable, if necessary.” - -“Oh, he’s not half a bad fellow!” Jim said. “He’s so interested about -things; it’s quite jolly to talk to him. And he’s keen about his nephew -and the boys on the transports. There are lots of people worse than old -Smith.” Thus dismissing the claims to respect of his fellow-passengers, -Jim demanded volunteers for deck-quoits, and the party, having -volunteered in a body, withdrew. - -The captain’s gramophone was something of an institution on the ship. It -was an excellent machine, and the captain loved it. Occasionally he was -induced to bring it to the saloon at night, or, in the tropics, out on -the deck; but his more usual form of entertainment was to invite a -select few to his cabin for tea, an invitation understood to include -music. It was not therefore, regarded as anything unusual when the -Linton group declined the general tea-summons, and moved away in the -direction of the upper deck. In the comfortable rooms under the bridge, -tea was made the chief business of the gathering, and nothing was said -of any other matter until every one was served and the stewards had -withdrawn. Then the captain looked round the expectant faces. - -“Well, I have not much to report,” he said. He produced a plan of the -ship, showing the outer view of the port-holes. “That is your cabin -window, Miss Norah. Now where did you see those flashes emerging?” - -“From this one,” said Norah, unhesitatingly, indicating a port-hole. -“Wasn’t it, boys?” Jim and Wally, looking over her shoulder, nodded -confirmation. - -“Ah, so I thought! Well, that cabin has no occupant—it’s a small vacant -one.” - -Disappointment showed plainly written on the faces of his three younger -hearers. - -“That, of course, proves nothing,” went on the captain; and the faces -cleared immediately. “Any one could get in to use it; it is not locked. -There are no signs of its having been occupied in any way, but then, no -one using it surreptitiously would leave signs. We have one piece of -evidence, however; the wind-scoop is a new one, but there are scratches -on it that show it has been applied, possibly by a person who did not -thoroughly understand how to insert it in the port-hole. Why, you -blood-thirsty young people!—you look pleased!” - -The three detectives had beamed, quite involuntarily. They laughed, a -little shame-faced. - -“We’re anxious not to have taken up your time for nothing, sir,” -explained Wally, suavely. - -“H’m,” said Captain Garth, looking from one guest to another. “Mr. -Linton, you look as pleased as any of them!” - -“The family reputation for common sense is at stake,” said Mr. Linton, -smiling. “I admit I don’t want to find they’ve led you on a wild-goose -chase, captain. Besides, they woke me up; I want some compensation for a -disturbed night.” - -“A peaceful man, anxious to command a blameless ship, has a poor time -nowadays!” said the captain. “Well, that’s how the matter stands. The -cabins near the empty one are occupied by ladies, who, I think, are -guiltless of anything desperate; they’re all addicted to wool-work and -playing Patience. Further inquiry leads me to feel very doubtful about -two men; one is employed in the galley, the other is a foremast hand. -Both are Swedes.” - -“But could they get into the cabin?” - -“Oh, easily! Every one knows the plan of the ship, and there would be no -difficulty in dodging into an empty cabin. Frankly,” said the captain, -“it is a relief to me to find suspicion directed away from the -passengers; it’s a much easier matter to tackle a foremast hand with -alien tendencies. The sailor was seen last night under somewhat queer -circumstances; he was in a part of the ship where he had no business. He -gave a fairly lame excuse.” - -“What time was that, Captain?” Jim asked. - -“A little after three. It might mean nothing—but putting everything -together, the matter is suspicious. We’ll set a watch to-night, in two -places?” - -“Can we be in it?” came from Jim and Wally, simultaneously. - -The captain looked questioningly at Mr. Linton. - -“Oh, I leave it to you, Captain!” said that gentleman; “I can’t keep -them in cotton-wool.” - -“And after all, it’s their find—if it be a find,” said the captain. “At -least, it’s Miss Norah’s—but I can’t very well let you watch!” He -smiled at Norah. - -“It’s awful to be a girl!” said she, lugubriously. “But I suppose it -can’t be helped. You’ll tell me all about it, won’t you?” - -“You shall know all!” said the captain, dramatically. “Well, one watch -must be kept in the empty cabin you are using for a dressing-room—cheer -up, Miss Norah, we’ll give you another. You boys can watch there, if you -like. Then I will have men posted further aft, also in an empty cabin; -and a special watch kept on deck.” - -“And if we see the flashes?” - -“Report to Mr. Dixon. Both watches will close up on the alley-way -leading to the cabin, and we’ll burst the door in. I’m having the hinges -specially fixed, so that the screws will give, if necessary. If any one -is there, he must be caught red-handed, or not at all. It’s a mercy that -the cabin is unoccupied and that no one has any right to be there—to -break violently in upon a feminine passenger doing nothing more deadly -than using a spirit-lamp to heat curling-tongs, would lead to -unpleasantness with the powers that be, at home!” - -“I guess it was more than that,” Wally remarked. - -“Oh, of course it was! Still, it may be capable of some very simple -explanation; don’t run away with the idea that we have really an alien -on board.” The captain smiled. “I know you want a scalp—but I don’t -know that I do. And, in any case, I want to keep the matter from the -other passengers. That sort of thing only leads to nervousness and -excitement and I’m especially pleased in the present state of affairs, -that my passengers show no signs of getting ‘jumpy’ over war risks. -Coming out, there was a lady who used to consult the officers several -times a day on the probability of being sunk, and she got on our -nerves.” - -“She would,” said Jim. “We shan’t speak of it, Captain. But can you keep -it dark, if we make a capture?” - -“Oh, I think so. Everything leads me to suspect one of the two Swedes; -and the temporary disappearance of a hand may be easily explained to the -rest of the crew, while the passengers need never hear about it. Lots of -things occur on a voyage about which it isn’t necessary to inform the -passengers,” said the captain, with a twinkle. “They’re all very good, -of course—but they have such a way of asking questions!” - -“There’s so little else to do,” said Norah, laughing—“and such heaps of -questions to ask!” - -“Quite so,” agreed the captain. “Well, lest you should ask me any more -just now, let’s have the music-box.” He opened the gramophone, and gave -himself to melody. - -Later, on their way to dress for dinner, they passed a tall, fair-haired -sailor, busily cleaning paint. He looked up at the merry group, with a -surly face. - -“That’s a Swede, I know,” Wally said, when they were safely out of -hearing. “I wonder if he’s one of the suspects.” - -“If he is, he’ll be an awkward man to tackle,” Mr. Linton said. “You -will have to be careful, boys; don’t run unnecessary risks in the way of -going for him single-handed. That fellow is as strong as a bull.” - -Jim and Wally passed over this sage advice in the airy way of boyhood. - -“It really looks very likely,” said the former. “He’s probably -pro-German; and it’s quite a reasonable thing to suppose that he may be -in the pay of Germans in Australia, and has simply joined the ship in -the hope of signalling our whereabouts to an enemy cruiser.” - -“Yes—wouldn’t he get a nice bonus for us!” Wally added. “And a free -trip for himself to Germany—to say nothing of the fact that he may be -carrying information about the transports. Scissors!—don’t I hope we’ll -get him!” - -But the watch that night proved fruitless. Jim and his chum spent long -comfortless hours in the little cabin near Norah’s, taking turns at the -port-hole; further up, Mr. Dixon, very bored and cold, shared a similar -vigil with an elderly quartermaster. But no queer flashes of light came -from the port-hole between them; nor had the watch on deck anything to -report. It was a disconsolate trio that met on deck next morning. - -“Never mind,” Norah said, comforting. “He may have been too sleepy. -He’ll be there to-night.” - -He was not there, however. Again the weary night brought no -satisfaction. Jim and Wally, heavy-eyed and yawning, gave up the watch -towards daybreak, and sought their bunks thankfully, unable to keep -awake any longer. - -Mr. Dixon was sarcastic at the expense of the amateur detectives. - -“Too much reading of penny-dreadfuls, and visiting picture-shows,” said -he, acidly. “I’ve heard that it makes people think in melodrama, and it -also appears to make them see weird flashes that aren’t there!” - -“They were there!” said Wally, hotly. “We all three saw them.” - -“I’m sure you thought you did,” said the chief officer, with a soothing -note that was more irritating than acidity. “Now you must keep a good -look-out for the sea-serpent; that’s a daylight affair, and doesn’t -necessitate extra night-watches.” He yawned cavernously. “No more -sitting up for me, thank goodness!—the old man reckons this business is -a frost.” - -The captain bore out this statement, in terms less calculated to hurt. - -“We have to consider the possibility of a mistake,” he told them. “And I -can’t keep men out of bed indefinitely. The officer of the watch will -have special instructions for vigilance! I think that some underhand -business was going on, but that the interruption on the first night -scared the offender permanently.” Whereat Wally groaned with extreme -bitterness. - -“Cheer up!” Jim said, smiting him on the back in the privacy of their -cabin. “I’m not going to give in; if he’s there, we’ll get him yet.” But -though they watched as much as youth and sleepiness would let them, the -nights went by, and there was no further appearance of the mysterious -signals. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - - THE EMPTY CABIN. - -“JIM! Wake up, you old sinner!” - -Jim, in his sleep, was riding after a bullock on the Billabong plains. -The bullock was speedy, and he and Garryowen were doing their utmost to -catch and turn him. They drew near—he swung up his arm with the -stockwhip, and met a soft obstacle that surprised him effectually from -his dream. - -“By Jove, you can hit, old man!” said Wally, in a sepulchral whisper, -rubbing his side. “Call yourself a pal? Wake up?” - -“I’m sorry,” Jim said, struggling to consciousness. “Did I hit you? -What’s the matter, Wal?” - -“Be quiet, fathead, can’t you?” whispered Wally, impatiently. “I’ve been -trying to wake you silently, and you’ll raise the ship. Get up—the -signaller’s at work!” - -Jim was out of his berth in a moment, and at the port-hole. Far down the -side of the ship they could see fitful gleams of light. - -“By Jove!” he said, bringing in his head. “We’ll get him this time, Wal. -Awfully sorry I was so hard to wake.” - -“Well, you’ve had about six hours’ sleep in the last three nights, so -it’s not much wonder,” Wally answered. “Generally you wake if a fly -looks at you.” They were struggling into coats and slippers in the dark. -“Come along!” - -They hurried noiselessly down the passage, and turned into the narrow -alley-way leading to the little empty cabin near Norah’s. The port-hole -had been left open, and they peered out in turn. - -“There’s no doubt this time,” said Jim, excitedly; “he’s signalling for -all he’s worth. No lady with curling-tongs and a spirit-lamp about that -chap! he means business.” - -“What’s the plan of action?” - -Jim considered. - -“I don’t believe the captain would like us to tackle him alone,” he -said. “I don’t think he’d get away from us—but he might, if he’s that -big, powerful Swede. We want witnesses and authority, anyhow. I’ll mount -guard at the entrance to that alley-way, Wal, and you go and rouse Mr. -Dixon.” - -“H’m,” said Wally. “And if the beast rushes you?” - -“Well, he must rush,” said Jim, philosophically. “We can’t both stay, -and I’d better be the one, being the stronger. Clear out, old man—look -sharp! I wouldn’t let old Dixon miss seeing those flashes for a fiver!” - -The entrance to the alley-way leading to the suspected cabin was dark -and silent, and no faintest glimmer of light came from the skylight over -the shut door. Jim took his stand in the narrow passage, bracing his -muscles in case of a rush in the dark. No one could get past him, in so -small a space; but a strong and determined man would, he knew, make -short work of him in a wild dash for safety. Jim was grimly certain that -the Swede might go over him, but not without a struggle. He clenched his -fists, watching the door—imagining each instant that he heard a -stealthy movement, or the slow creaking as the handle turned. - -Mr. Dixon, roused from health-giving slumber, was incredulous and -wrathful. - -“You kids are a first-class nuisance!” he said, sleepily, getting into -his coat. “If this is another false alarm, Wally, I’ll have you -keel-hauled!” - -Wally possessed his soul in patience while his body shivered—the wind -on the officer’s deck blew keen and shrill, and Mr. Dixon was far too -annoyed to offer him the shelter of the cabin. The boy’s teeth were -chattering when the chief officer emerged and ran up the steps to the -bridge. He returned in a moment, followed by two of the watch. - -“Now, where’s this precious spy-hole of yours?” demanded he. - -They hurried below; past the empty drawing-room and along silent -corridors, where the stillness was broken only by an occasional snore. -Wally turned down Norah’s alley-way and led the way to the empty cabin, -running ahead to glance out first through the port-hole, in sudden fear -lest the flashes should have ceased. He made way for Mr. Dixon with a -relieved little sigh. - -“You can see for yourself,” he said, shortly. - -The chief officer’s face was invisible, after he had peered out—but the -change in his voice was laughable. - -“Well, I back down,” he whispered, “I guess you kids knew more about it -than I did. There’s certainly some little game going on there.” He -leaned out for another long look. “I believe it’s Morse code,” he said, -finally; “it’s hard to tell at this angle. But it’s signalling, safe -enough.” - -“Well, hurry!” Wally said. “Jim is mounting guard alone, and if it’s -that big sailor, he’ll simply wipe him out.” - -“Sure thing,” Mr. Dixon agreed. “Larsen is a holy terror when he gets -going.” He gave hasty directions as they tip-toed up the alley-way. - -“All right, Jim?” Wally whispered. - -“All serene,” Jim answered. “Haven’t heard a thing, and there’s no light -coming from over the door.” - -“Oh, he’d be quite cute enough to block up the skylight!” Mr. Dixon -agreed. “Well, you boys had better keep back and guard the mouth of the -alley-way, and leave this thing to the men and me.” - -“Us!” said Wally and Jim together, in a sepulchral duet of woe. “Not -much—it’s our game! We’ve got to see it out, sir!” - -“Well, duck if he begins shooting,” said the chief officer, resignedly. -“Stay where you are, Hayward—you follow up, Bob.” He went noiselessly -as a cat down the narrow alley-way to the cabin door. - -“I don’t think I’ll try it,” he mused under his breath. “Better to go in -unannounced.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Wally, you get the -light switched on as soon as you’re in the cabin.” - -In his day Mr. Dixon had played Rugby football; in later years he had -been mate of a sailing ship, and had learned in that rough school how to -use his weight effectively. He drew back a pace or two now, and then -flung his shoulder against the door. The carefully-weakened hinges gave, -and the attacking party crashed into the cabin. - -They had a momentary vision of a flash of light; a guttural exclamation -came from the port-hole. Then there was black darkness and the sound of -men struggling. Jim was close at Mr. Dixon’s shoulder; Wally, groping -round the ruined door, was endeavouring to find the electric-light -button. Then came another flash of light, and a report that sounded -deafening, in the tiny cabin. - -“You brute, you’ve got me!” said Mr. Dixon, between his teeth. - -Light flashed out as Wally found the button. The cabin was dim with -smoke, and acrid with the smell of gunpowder. Jim saw a levelled -revolver-barrel gleam in the blue haze; then he sprang past the chief -officer, and hit wildly at a face above it. The revolver clattered to -the floor. There was a thud, as the man who held it went down in a -corner. - -“Hold him, Wally!” - -The boys were both on the struggling form; the sailor, behind them, -gripping the man’s legs. The unequal fight was only momentary. - -“I give in,” said the man. He was suddenly limp and powerless in their -hands, panting heavily. His face was turned from them as he huddled in -the corner. - -“Got any more revolvers?” Jim asked. - -“Nein—no. You can search me.” - -Jim kept his grip on his wrists, as he glanced up at the chief officer. - -“Are you much hurt, Mr. Dixon?” - -“I don’t think so,” said Dixon, a little doubtfully. “Only grazed my -arm—it’s bleeding a bit—and deafened me. Oh, Lord, there’s the old -lady in the next cabin—I knew we’d have the ship about our ears!” He -went out into the alley-way, and they heard his voice patiently. “No, -it’s all right, madam—nothing to be alarmed about. No, it’s not a -German warship. You’re quite safe. Go to sleep.” - -He came back. - -“Shut the door, Bob. Prop it with your shoulder. Now we’ll have a look -at this gentleman. Stand up there, will you?” - -The huddled figure twisted round and struggled to his feet, facing them -defiantly. - -“Great Scott!” said Dixon weakly. “Why, I thought it was a decent -Swede!” - -The boys gaped in silence. The short figure, dusty and bedraggled, was -Mr. Smith. He stood looking at them, pale, with a black streak across -his face; in spite of it—in spite of his stout, panting, dishevelled -form—there was something not ignoble about him. He was not at all -afraid. - -“On the whole, it was foolish of me to fire,” he said. “I am glad you -are not hurt.” - -Dixon broke into a laugh. - -“Awfully decent of you!” he said. “Why do you carry a revolver if you -think it foolish to use it?” - -“I do not think it foolish to use it,” Mr. Smith answered deliberately. -“But I had meant it for myself—if I failed. Then, in my excitement, I -fought with it. That was foolish. One cannot always think quickly -enough.” - -“I’m glad you aimed too quickly!” said Dixon grimly. “It might have been -awkward for some of us if you hadn’t——” He broke off, with a shout. -“Watch him!” - -Mr. Smith had sprung towards the port-hole, a dark object in his hand. -Jim was just too quick for him. He caught the up-raised arm. The little -man fought fiercely and silently for a moment; then he gave in, yielding -what he held with a little sigh. - -“Pocket-book,” said Jim, examining it. - -“I’ll take it, for the captain’s perusal,” said Dixon, holding out his -hand. He had twisted a towel round his arm, and his face, streaked with -blood, looked sufficiently grotesque. “Before we go any further, I think -we’ll search you, Mr. Smith.” - -Beyond the bulky pocket-book which had so narrowly escaped a watery -grave, there was little of an incriminating nature to be found on the -prisoner. Dixon took charge of any papers in his pockets, and of his -keys; and in a corner of the cabin Wally picked up an electric torch—a -powerful one, of new and elaborate design. - -“Signalling apparatus,” said Dixon, glancing at it. His anger suddenly -blazed out. - -“What do you mean by it, you cowardly hound? Who paid you to sell your -own people to the enemy?” - -“The enemy?” said Mr. Smith. “My own people?” He glanced round with -sudden pride. “My people are your enemies, and I am one of them. I am a -German!” - -“Oh, are you?” said Dixon, weakly. - -“But you don’t talk like one,” Jim blurted. - -“No—why should I, when I do not wish? I have lived much in England; -English is as familiar to me as German. But I have but one country, and -that is the Fatherland.” - -“Then it’s a pity you didn’t keep off a decent British ship,” said -Dixon, wrathfully. “It makes me sick to think of you on board, making -friends with every one—and doing your best to get us sunk. Women and -kids, too.” - -“Our ships do not send people down with the ships they sink,” said the -German, proudly. “For the rest—it is war. If you were on a German ship -you would be glad of a chance to do as I have tried to do. War cannot be -made with kid gloves. If I sink you—then I have done a service to -Germany. There is not any more to be said.” - -“Glad you think so,” Dixon answered; “but I fancy you’ll find there’s -rather more. However, it’s the captain’s business now.” He called the -sailors. “There’s an empty cabin in the next alley-way; put this man in -there and watch him. He’s not to go out under any pretext whatever.” - -Mr. Smith disappeared, marching proudly between his captors, his head -held high. Dixon looked after him. - -“Rum little beggar,” he said. “Wonderful what a lot they think of their -precious Fatherland. I travelled through it once, and I certainly didn’t -want to stay—their beastly language gives a man toothache! Well, that’s -a good job done, and thanks be to Morpheus, the ship is quiet. A single -revolver shot doesn’t make much noise, and we weren’t noisy, except for -that.” - -In answer to this cheering reflection, two heads appeared in the -doorway. - -“We’re bursting with curiosity,” said Grantham and West. “Can’t we be -told anything?” - -“Oh, Lord!” groaned the chief officer. “Any more of you?” - -“No, I think not,” West said. “I happened to be awake, and heard your -sounds of revelry; so, apparently, did Grantham. We thought of butting -in, but when we heard your voice in explaining to the old lady, we came -to the conclusion that we weren’t exactly wanted. But there is a limit -to one’s forbearance. Can’t we be told?” - -“Yes, I suppose so,” Dixon answered. “Only keep it quiet. Also, these -boys can tell you, for I’m off to the captain.” - -“I guess you’d better let us see to that arm of yours first,” Jim put -in. “I’m a first-aid man; let me tie it up, unless you’d rather go -straight to the doctor.” - -“Well, we’ll have a look at it,” said Dixon. “Come along to my -cabin—there’s room there and we can speak out—I’m sick of whispering!” - -The arm was found to be bruised and grazed only, and the patient -declined to disturb the doctor’s slumbers. Jim tied it up in his best -style, while West and Grantham, sitting on the victim’s bunk, heard with -unconcealed envy the story of the night. - -“Some chaps have all the luck,” West said, sadly. “Why shouldn’t we be -in it?—and we sleeping next door! And who’d have thought it of meek -little Smith!” - -“I expect his name’s Schmidt if every one had his due,” said the chief -officer, rising. “Thanks, Jim. Now I guess you youngsters had better -turn in—there’s nothing more for you to do. I’ve got to see that that -battered cabin door is fixed before curious passengers get asking -questions in the morning.” - -Mr. Smith was officially reported as ill next day, and his absence -caused no comment; a hint that his ailment might be infectious kept any -benevolent people from offering to visit him. The nervous old lady was -inclined to be garrulous about the midnight disturbance, but as she was -known to be a person of hysterical tendencies, curiosity was not -excited. Mr. Dixon, appealed to, spoke vaguely of a wave dashing in at -the port-hole and making “no end of a row.” - -“But I heard voices!” protested the old lady. - -“Yes, ma’am—you would, if the stewards were cleaning up a wave. It -makes ’em fluent!” said the chief officer. - -To the Linton tribe, assembled in his cabin, the captain was more -communicative. - -“Schmidt is his name—Hans Schmidt. There’s any amount of evidence -against him in the papers; the pocket-book he tried to throw out of the -port contains much full and true information about our transports, a -complete cipher code of signals, and translations of various other -codes. It’s evident that the police were on his heels in -Melbourne—that’s why he joined so hurriedly. He covered his tracks -well, too; made them think he had gone to Brisbane. Otherwise, they -would have caught him on the _Perseus_ at Adelaide.” - -“What did he hope to do?” Mr. Linton asked. - -“Well, there was always a chance of his attracting a German cruiser. I -don’t think it was a strong one—but of course you can’t tell. It would -have simplified matters for him greatly; put him safely among his own -people, and he would have done his beloved Fatherland a mighty big -service in betraying a prize like this ship into its hands. He says he -knew he was taking big risks for small chances, but apparently that -didn’t trouble him. I don’t consider he’s to be blamed from his point of -view, except in using his revolver; and that seems to distress him more -than anything else. He asked for Dixon this morning, and apologised!” - -“If he could have used it sufficiently, I don’t suppose it would have -troubled him,” observed Mr. Linton. - -“Oh, if he could have taken the ship, of course it wouldn’t!” the -captain said, laughing. “Patriotism would have risen beyond any claims -of mercy then. No—it’s because it was so futile to use it, and he -risked damaging Dixon and the others for nothing. That consideration is -really weighing on his mind. He’s one of those careful beggars who can’t -bear making an error of judgment, I fancy.” - -“I think I’m a little sorry for him,” Norah said. “After all, it was his -own country he was battling for.” - -“That’s so,” said the captain. “Put one of our fellows to play a lone -game on a big German liner, and I fancy we’d be quite proud of him if he -managed to signal a British cruiser. The shooting’s inexcusable, of -course. Well, I’ve got to take him to England—I can’t have the ship -delayed at Durban over a trial. And as the mouthpiece of the owners, I -say, ‘Thank you very much!’ to Miss Norah and you two boys.” - -The three thus marked for fame looked down their noses and felt -uncomfortable. - -“Glad we got him,” Jim said, awkwardly. “I wonder what about his nephew -in our contingent, by the way?” - -The captain laughed. - -“I rather fancy you wouldn’t find that nephew,” he said. “If he -exists—well, he’s probably in a trench, fighting in France, with a name -like Johann and an unpleasant propensity for beer!” - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - - DURBAN. - -THE _Perseus_ was coming gently in to Durban Harbour, past a long -breakwater and a high green bluff that towered sheer from the water. -Some one had just told Norah that it swarmed with monkeys, and she was -straining curious eyes upwards, trying vainly to pierce the dense growth -that covered it. - -“Well, it may,” she said aloud, in accents of disappointment. “But I -can’t see a sign.” - -“A sign of what?” asked Wally’s cheerful voice. - -“Monkeys. Mr. West says they are there, and I did want to see them. To -see them . . . - - “‘Walk together. - Holding each other’s tails,’” - -quoted Wally, dreamily. “It would be lovely; only they’re not supposed -to do it in the middle of the day. Personally, I don’t like monkeys.” - -“Well, neither do I,” Norah said. “But it’s all so wonderful—to think -I’m actually coming to a place where there can be such things walking -about, and not in a zoo. Wally, doesn’t it make you feel queer?” - -“Yes, rather,” admitted Wally. “I’ve been pinching myself, to try and -realise that I was really coming to Africa. Africa has always seemed so -awfully far off—a sort of confused dream of Scipio, and Moors, and -dervishes, and lions, and King Solomon’s Mines, and the Mountains of the -Moon. The Boer War brought it nearer, of course, but even so, it was -still pretty mysterious. You know, I was in Tasmania last year, and -Edward’s car broke down near a saw-mill on the Huon. I was poking about -while they fixed her up, and I sat down on a pile of sleepers.” - -“Yes?” said Norah, as he paused. “Why wouldn’t you?” - -“No reason—only I got talking to one of the men, and he told me those -sleepers were being cut for the Cape to Cairo railway. That made me feel -awfully queer—to think I’d been sitting on a sleeper that was going to -lie out in the middle of Africa, and have fiery, untamed lions and -giraffes and elephants strolling across it.” - -“For all you know it never got further than a Cape Town suburb,” said -Jim, unfeelingly. - -“Oh, get out!” Wally uttered, in disgust. “If I like to think of the zoo -walking over it, why shouldn’t I?” - -“Why not, indeed—when it began with a donkey sitting on it?” grinned -Jim. “Anyhow, here’s old Africa; and I don’t see that this part of it is -unlike any other old wharf I’ve seen.” - -They were slowly coming in towards the pier. On the left lay a grey -warship, workmanlike and trim, with smoke coming lazily from her four -funnels; they could catch glimpses of white-clad sailors on her deck. -There were many ships lying at the long wharves. Ashore, the streets -were bare and brown and dusty. It was Saturday afternoon, and there were -few people about. - -“It doesn’t look exciting,” Wally admitted. “Not much of King Solomon’s -Mines about this outlook, anyhow. But you can’t judge any place by its -wharves. These seem much like the Melbourne ones, only dirtier. You -would think Melbourne was awful enough if you judged it by its ports.” - -“It looks lovely back there,” Norah said, indicating a long semicircle -of green hills that rose behind the dusty town. - -“That’s the Berea, where all the lucky people of Durban live,” said the -doctor, coming up. “You must take a trip round there. Going to stay -ashore, Miss Norah?” - -“Yes—Dad says so,” Norah answered. “The captain advised him—he says -that it would be horrid to be on the ship here for two days.” - -“And she coaling!” said the doctor, feelingly. “It’s horrible—dirty, -noisy, and hot, and your cabin has to be always locked, because the -Kaffir boys are everywhere, and they’d steal the clothes off your back -or the pipe out of your mouth.” - -“That’s what the captain said. So we’re going to a hotel.” Norah gave -vent suddenly to a little jig of delight, principally executed on one -foot. - -“Why, what’s the matter?” the doctor asked. - -“Look!” said Norah. “They’re Kaffirs, aren’t they? I haven’t seen any -before.” She pointed to a group of men coming across the wharf -yard—muscular, brown fellows, bare-footed, many of them stripped to the -waist, and all chattering and laughing among themselves. - -The doctor stared. - -“Yes, they’re Kaffirs,” he admitted, without any enthusiasm. “And a low -set of animals they are, too.” - -“They don’t look exactly lovely,” Norah said. “Only you see, it’s so -queer to me to be in a country where there are coloured people -everywhere. I can’t help feeling excited.” - -“And it’s within my memory,” said the doctor, “that an Australian boy -came to my school—and we English boys were all quite indignant because -he could speak our language, and because he wasn’t black! We had a kind -of idea that every one in Australia was black!” - -“But how queer!” said Norah, laughing. - -“That’s what we said when we discovered that he was white. But you have -seen your aborigines, haven’t you, Miss Norah?” - -“Oh, I’ve seen them, of course!” Norah answered, “some of them, that is. -There are not so very many left now, you know, especially in Victoria; -they are dying out fast, and the remaining ones are principally kept in -their special settlements. And I never remember enough of them to make -it seem that they were really the people of the country.” - -“Poor wretches!” said the doctor. “It makes one feel a bit sorry for -them.” - -“It wouldn’t if you knew them,” Jim put in. “They’re a most unpleasant -crowd—the lowest, I believe, in the scale of civilisation. Useless, -shifty, lazy, thieving—you can’t trust many of them. They will steal, -and they won’t work.” - -“But I’ve heard you speak of one that you employ,” said the doctor. - -“Oh, Billy! But I always tell Dad that Billy is the only decent black -fellow left. And he, like the curate’s egg, is only good in patches. -He’s very fond of us, and rather afraid of us, and so he works well—on -a horse. But if you take him off a horse he’s a most hopeless person. -Now those fellows”—Jim indicated the gang of chattering Kaffirs—“may -not be perfection, but at least they can be made to work.” - -“Oh, they’ll work well enough!” admitted the doctor. “But they’re rather -like animals. Watch them, now.” - -He took out a penny, holding it aloft for a moment. The ship was nearly -alongside the wharf, and his action was instantly noticed by the noisy -black throng below, who broke into imploring shouts. The penny, flung -among them, fell on the wharf, burying itself in coal-dust; but almost -before it had fallen the Kaffirs had hurled themselves upon it, -shouting, fighting, scrambling, packed somewhat like a football “scrum,” -with bare, brown backs heaving and struggling. Those unable to get into -the mêlée hovered on the outskirts, relieving their feelings by beating -the backs of their friends wildly. For a few moments complete -pandemonium reigned. Then a big fellow heaved himself out of the press -and sprang aside, brandishing the penny aloft, and grinning from ear to -ear. The others took his victory in perfect good part, grinning as -widely themselves, and making no attempt to interfere with the victor as -he tucked away his booty in some obscure corner of his ragged and scanty -clothing. - -“Losh!” ejaculated Jim. “Never did I see such exertion over one small -penny!” - -“It would be just the same over a halfpenny,” the doctor said. He threw -one—and the scene was reenacted, with equal vigour. The successful -combatant was a mere boy, who executed a dance of triumph as he -concealed the spoils of war. - -The other passengers on the _Perseus_ had taken up the game by this, and -coppers fell freely on the wharf; some caught in the air, others made -the centres of more wild struggles. - -“Big animals—that’s all they are,” the doctor said, looking at the -heaving mass of brown backs. “It’s all very well when they scramble for -coppers; but they will fight in precisely the same way for the most -disgusting-looking refuse from the cook’s galley, flung into the -coal-dust as those pence are flung. The winners gather up their prizes -and proceed to eat them, coal-dust and all. It isn’t an edifying sight. -You wouldn’t think it pretty if they were pariah dogs—but considered as -human beings, well——!” The doctor left his sentence eloquently -unfinished. - -Along the deck came Mr. Linton, hurriedly, his face full of joy. - -“Dad’s got news,” Jim said, quickly. - -“News!—I should think so!” said his father. “We’ve got the _Emden_!” - -“No!” - -“Yes—and it’s the Australian ship that finished her—the _Sydney_. -Caught her off Cocos Island.” - -“Our ship!” came in a delighted chorus. “Oh, that’s too good to be -true!” - -“It is true, all the same—and more power to our baby Navy!” said the -squatter, beaming. “Of course, there was no real fight in it; the -_Emden_ was hopelessly outclassed. Still, the _Sydney_ was all there -when she was wanted. It’s worth being without news for so long, to get -anything as good as this.” - -“Rather!” said Jim. “Thank goodness that blessed little wasp is out of -the way of the transports!” - -“She was near enough to be dangerous,” said his father. “And she ran up -a big enough butcher’s bill for us before we got her.” His face -darkened; the exploits of the predatory German cruiser had not made -pleasant British reading. “She has a mighty big bundle of scalps to her -credit.” - -“Well, she played the game,” Jim said. “As far as I can see, she’ll go -down to history as almost the only chivalrous fighter the Germans had. I -reckon her captain must be an uncommonly decent sort—he had to be a -pirate, but he was such a good fellow with it. You can’t help respecting -him.” - -“No—nor being glad he’s out of business,” Wally said. “I’m not keen on -being sunk by any pirate, no matter how gentlemanly. But, of course, -though the _Emden_’s captain did treat people awfully well, not even a -German would sink ships regardless of human life”—wherein Wally spoke -without foreknowledge of later German tactics. “Any other news, Mr. -Linton?” - -“I haven’t seen any papers yet, but I believe there is nothing -special—a sort of deadlock everywhere,” the squatter answered. His eyes -widened suddenly. “There’s an ornamental person! What do you think of -him, Norah?” - -Norah turned, following the direction of his gaze. A man drawing a -rickshaw had just trotted gently to the wharf, and, putting down his -shafts, stood erect. Without doubt, he was an ornamental person. He was -a Zulu, considerably over six feet in height, and of powerful build, -with well-cut features, and a bearing proud enough to be something more -than a mere human horse. His dress was striking. A close-fitting tunic -of scarlet and white stripes, over short scarlet knickerbockers, only -served to outline his mighty frame. Across his back and chest were -criss-crossed strips of bright-coloured embroidery. There were bangles -on his arms, from wrist to shoulder, and bangles above his knees. He was -bare-footed—but his legs were painted in white from the knees downwards -in an elaborate design to represent boots and gaiters. - -But his glory was in his head-dress. A tight-fitting skull-cap was -crowned with the most amazing erection that ever bewildered a newcomer. -Above his brow curved away two enormous bullock-horns, dyed scarlet. -Between them, a straight aigrette of porcupine quills quivered with -every movement; and behind, a long plume of pampas grass, of vivid -yellow, streamed downwards, until it touched a monkey-skin, which, -fastened to his shoulders, trailed down his back. From different angles -long scarlet feathers stuck out; and above each ear was fastened a -native snuff-box—a gourd the size of a tennis-ball, profusely -ornamented with brass. He was a heartsome sight. - -“Good gracious!” Norah gasped. “Are there many like him?” - -As if in answer a second rickshaw came round the corner of a wharf -building. The Zulu who drew it might have been the twin brother of the -first man in size and features; but his dress was blue and white, and -one of his bullock-horns curved up, and the other down, which gave him a -curiously rakish appearance. They were dyed scarlet and black, and his -feathers were of every colour of the rainbow. The first man broke into a -rapid torrent of guttural, clicking speech, and for a moment they -chattered like monkeys. Then they looked up, catching sight of the -watching passengers on the _Perseus_, and each broad, black face widened -into a smile from ear to ear, while they beckoned invitingly towards -their waiting chariots. - -“Many!” said the doctor, laughing. “Oh, any number, Miss Norah—that is -the cab of Durban!” - -“Daddy!—do we go in them?” - -“Would you like to?” said her father, regarding the peculiar equipage -with some distrust. - -“Rather!” said Norah, breathlessly. - -“I don’t think I’d look well in one,” said Mr. Linton, doubtfully. -“Surely they’re meant for the young and frivolous, doctor?” - -“Not a bit,” said the doctor, laughing. “Every one uses them—they’re -awfully handy things. You can’t possibly keep out of them!” - -“That settles it!” said Norah, thankfully. “We’ll go, Daddy. Can we go -soon?” - -“That red and white chap has put the evil eye on Norah,” said Wally, -laughing. “She’s bewitched, and small blame to her—did you ever see -such an insinuating smile? Don’t let us keep her waiting, Mr. Linton, or -she’ll turn into a black cat and disappear for ever—in a phantom -rickshaw!” - -“We may as well go,” said Mr. Linton, laughing. The gangway was down; -already a swarm of Kaffir boys were coming on deck, unsavoury enough at -close quarters to cure even Norah of undue hankerings after this -particular brand of noble savage. Their bare feet left tracks of -coal-dust on the spotless decks, at which the doctor shrugged -disgustedly. - -“Poor old ship—she’ll be coal from end to end soon,” he observed. “Are -all your cabins locked, by the way?” - -“Yes—we handed them over to the steward’s care,” Mr. Linton answered. -“Suit-cases all on deck, boys?” - -Everything was ready, and in a few moments was delivered to the hotel -agent, a busy half-caste who came on board suffused with his own -importance. Then, with no heavier impedimenta than cameras, the -Billabong party went ashore—to be received with a delighted air of -welcome by the rickshaw “boys.” Mr. Linton and Norah boarded one -rickshaw, Jim and Wally the other; the steeds gripped the shafts, said -authoritatively, “Sit ba-a-a-ck!” and started on the long jog to the -city, the little brass bells on their wrists jingling at each stride. - -The rickshaw of Durban is an enticing vehicle. It holds two people -comfortably: it is well-cushioned, with an adjustable hood, and has -rubber tyres; and both it and its “boy” are as clean as polishing can -make them. The “boy’s” bare feet are almost soundless on the well-paved -roads; the rickshaw runs smoothly, with no apparent effort on the part -of the big Zulu. He is a cheerful soul, with a keen eye to the main -chance; his smile is always ready, and he passes other “boys” with a -quick volley of chaff that appears to give equal delight to both. Very -certainly he will demand double or treble fare if he thinks there is the -slightest chance of obtaining more than his due. He loves to appear -quite ignorant of English, once he has caught his passenger, and will -jog on serenely into space, oblivious of any command to stop, knowing -that he is piling up the sum to be paid him eventually. For these -reasons, it is as well to learn from the steward a few elementary native -words of command, which are apt to imbue the “boy” with a painful regard -for his fare’s might and learning. Failing this, a stick or umbrella -long enough to prod him is of much value. - -With all these small drawbacks, the rickshaw “boy” is a delightful -person, combining the heart of a child with the business instincts of a -financier. Even when there is strong reason to suspect that he has -grossly overcharged you, it is quite impossible to be angry with him, -his smile is so friendly and his manner so insinuating. The effect might -be less marked if he were not so extremely ornamental. But a -chocolate-coloured, highly-polished Hercules, clad in shining raiment, -jingling with brazen ornaments, and crowned by a head-dress calculated -to excite envy in the Queen of Sheba, claims affection in a fashion -denied to lesser mortals. - -Norah found her red and white-clad steed wholly delightful. She gave to -his great back, with its flowing monkey-skin, more attention than to the -dusty streets through which they were passing, though they, too, were -not without their special interests—groups of natives, Kaffir women -with their brown babies tucked into the corner of their bright shawls, -little native boys with the splendid uprightness that comes from many -generations who have carried loads on their heads, Indians in gaudy, -flowing draperies, and slouching half-castes, with evil, crafty faces. -Other rickshaws passed them, taking passengers back to ships at the -Point, or jogging down, empty, in the hope of picking up a fare. There -were long teams of mules, in Government ammunition carts; and in a -railway yard they caught sight of a train painted with the Red Cross, -and suddenly remembered that South Africa, too, was at war. Women were -sitting in the dust by the roadside, with great baskets of fruit—the -travellers from the land of fruit sniffed disdainfully at its quality; -and there were hawkers of cool drinks and ice-cream, which appeared to -be of a peculiarly poisonous nature. Then the unsavoury streets widened -to a fine road on the sea-front—and they ran past imposing hotels and -clubs, which looked out on a fleet of small yachts, lying at anchor or -lazily sailing before the light breeze; and then came a sharp turn into -a broad street, past a square where statues were surrounded by beds of -flowers that blazed in the afternoon sun, and a great building, the -beautiful Town Hall, shone on the further side; and the “boys” dropped -the shafts in front of the Post Office and grinned by way of explaining -that this was the heart of Durban town. - -“I’d give half my kingdom,” said Wally, as they met on the footpath, “if -I could import that turn-out to Melbourne and drive down Collins Street -on a Saturday morning. Just fancy that gorgeous black chap—and the look -on the Melbourne policeman’s face as he caught sight of him!” - -“Just fancy the horses!” said Jim, laughing. “Wouldn’t there be an -interesting stampede!” - -“Look at them now!” said Norah delightedly. A long row of rickshaws -stood on the other side of the street, waiting to be hired, their “boys” -chattering in little groups or brushing their miniature carriages with -feather dusters. A man approached them, bearing the unmistakable tourist -stamp, and immediately every “boy” sprang to attention—patting the -rickshaw seat, whistling softly, yet urgently, waving their bright -dusters, while some, between the shafts, pranced wildly, apparently -overcome by the sheer joy of being alive. There was a storm of guttural -pleading. “Take me, sar!” “No, me—he no good!” “Me is fast boy, sar!” -“Me is faster!” The great bronze faces were vivid with excited -impatience; white teeth flashed, and rainbow plumes nodded. - -“And it’s all for a sixpenny fare—and they’re cab-horses!” ejaculated -Mr. Linton. “By Jove, just fancy an impi of those fellows under Cetewayo -going out to battle—with broad spears instead of feather dusters!” - -Jim whistled under his breath, watching the row of child-like giants. -Then he burst into a laugh. On the far side of the row was a Zulu who -had been unable to get round in time to join in the general effort to -attract the tourist. He was contenting himself by stooping and peering -between the wheel-spokes, grinning from ear to ear as he beat upon them -in the hope of catching the passenger’s eye. The effect was -indescribably ludicrous. - -“Isn’t he lovely!” laughed Norah. “Oh, Jimmy, can you imagine a stolid -Melbourne cabby playing ‘Bo-peep’ behind his wheels like that!” - -“I’d give a lot to see it,” Jim said, “especially if I could dress him -in that kit first. I wonder what’s the duty on one rickshaw complete -with Zulu—it would be rather a lark to import one to Australia after -the war!” - -“You couldn’t do it—the cabmen would rise up and slay you,” Wally said. -“Well, I want to go inland, and see those chaps on their native heath. -Great Scott, what fighting-men they’d make!” - -“Once,” said Mr. Linton. “Not now—since they learned the ways of -civilisation. But what they must have been! Did you ever hear of the -impi that failed in battle, under Chaka? He mustered them afterwards and -told them their punishment. There was a cliff half a mile away, with a -sheer drop of hundreds of feet into a rocky gorge; at a signal their -officers gave them the word to march, and took them straight forward, -over the edge!” - -“And they went over?” Norah was wide-eyed with horror. - -“Every man. The king stood near the edge to watch; and as they passed -him they tossed their shields aloft and gave him the royal -salute—‘Bayété!’ Then they went down, like warriors. They knew it was -the only thing left to them; it was not possible to fail the king and to -continue to live.” - -“He gave one impi a chance, though,” Wally said. “They were a very -famous fighting regiment, and in some way or other they disobeyed him. -Chaka didn’t want to kill them—possibly he was short of recruits, like -Great Britain! But he paraded them and told them that because of their -previous good record he would spare their lives, under one -condition—that they left their assegais in the kraal, went out into the -bush, and brought him a living lion, full-grown, with teeth and claws -perfect!” - -“What—with their bare hands?” Jim asked, incredulously. - -“There wasn’t a weapon among the whole crowd; all they were allowed was -rope to bind him. They did it, too; marched out into the bush and caught -their lion and brought him in to the king. It must have been something -of a job. Forty were killed, and over two hundred clawed. You’d call -those chaps warriors, wouldn’t you?” - -“And now they haul one round in rickshaws! Doesn’t it make one feel -small!” Jim ejaculated. “Well, Chaka was a cruel brute, but he must have -been a good deal of a man himself to be able to handle such men as those -fellows, and send them marching to death, saluting him. Leaders like -that don’t seem to get born nowadays.” - -“Let me commend to your notice, Norah, that method of doing your hair!” -said Mr. Linton, indicating two Kaffir girls who were passing. Their -hair was drawn tightly back from their faces and dressed in a kind of -hard club, about a foot long, that stuck out stiffly from the backs of -their heads, slanting upwards. - -“Good gracious!” said Norah, weakly. - -“Do you suppose they take that erection down every night?” Jim asked. - -“No, indeed—it looks calculated to last for years,” Norah answered. “I -wonder how on earth they build it, and why.” - -“It’s a handle,” Wally said, solemnly. “Their husbands pick them up by -it when they’re tired. Also it might be used as a flag-staff, or a -hat-peg: you could find ever so many uses about a house for it. And then -it saves them for ever from buying hats. They might possibly make a -forage-cap sitting on one eyebrow work in with that hair, but no other -kind of head-dress would fit on. Think of the economy!” - -“Think of trying to sleep in it!” said Norah, gazing sympathetically -after the retreating brown ladies. “It could only be comfortable if they -lay on their noses.” - -“Well, their noses would rather give you the impression that they did,” -Jim said. “Most of them are as flat as a pancake. I say, do we stand on -the steps of this post office all day? Because I saw a shop with a -touching legend about strawberries across the street; and I haven’t seen -a strawberry for nearly a year. Let’s explore.” - -They explored, and found the Durban strawberries so good that the -exploration was indefinitely prolonged; then they sought curio-shops, -and rummaged among assegais and knob-kerries, rhinoceros-hide shields, -Zulu trinkets, Kaffir wire-work, ostrich feathers, and queer carved -figures; and Norah found herself the delighted possessor of a little -silver box with top and bottom of beautiful dark-blue agate, veined with -white. It was very hot, and the city streets, crowded and dusty, were -not inviting; so they hailed rickshaws, and soon were running smoothly -along a wide road that led away from the town and towards the ocean -beach. There was a steep pull up a long hill, which made the passengers -strongly inclined to get out and walk, except that no one else in -rickshaws seemed to think of doing so. The “boys” went up it at a good -pace, though panting audibly. At the top they came in sight of the sea; -a long strip of beach, on which big rollers pounded incessantly. On the -left the steep slope down to it was terraced in lawn and garden, with -seats here and there, summer-houses overgrown with gay creepers, and -fountains, throwing aloft sparkling jets of water. The clean salt air -blew strongly towards them. - -“Sit ba-a-a-ck!” said the “boys” suddenly. - -The Australians obeyed, not too soon. The rickshaws tilted back -alarmingly as they shot down the hill. The Zulus rested their elbows on -the shafts and balanced themselves in the air, their legs taking strides -that were apparently gigantic, but never touching the ground with their -feet. It was a spectacular performance—by no means comfortable, and -distinctly nerve-shaking. Faster and faster went the rickshaws, and -further and further back they tilted. - -“If I get out of this alive,” said Jim, “I guess I’m born to be hanged!” - -They came to the foot of the hill, and swung round a corner so abruptly -that to find themselves still intact seemed almost a miracle. The Zulu -came down to earth and the rickshaw to a horizontal position; the -occupants righted themselves with sighs of relief. Still under the -impetus of that wild descent, the “boys” raced along a level strip of -roadway, and drew up at a big hotel that fronted the beach. They let -down the shafts gently, and turned to their passengers, each chocolate -countenance bearing a grin from ear to ear. - -“My is a nice boy!” said Norah’s steed, modestly. - -“You are,” said Mr. Linton, getting out. “You’re also closely related to -an assassin, I think. How many people do you kill in the year?” - -The Zulu grinned yet more widely, apparently under the impression that -his acrobatic efforts were receiving the praise they merited. - -“Two shillin’,” said he, blandly, and accepted the coin with an air of -condescension, while his companion did the same. They trotted off -smartly, lest their passengers should discover that they had paid double -fare and take steps of vengeance. - -The hotel was cool and spacious, with big rooms and wide verandahs. -Norah’s window looked out upon the sea, stretching to the misty horizon -over which they had come. Beneath her, the life of the beach surged. -War, people said, had made Durban quiet; few of the up-country settlers -had followed their usual custom of coming down for the bathing, since -most of the men were fighting, and every one else was busy guarding -property. But Norah thought she had never seen such a busy beach. -Motors, carriages, and rickshaws passed and repassed on the wide road -beneath her, with clanging, noisy electric trams; further down, the -terraces were thronged with people, and the cafes showed a stream of -customers going in and out. Children were paddling and digging in the -sand; in a rotunda a military band was playing softly. - -In the sea itself, a semicircular pier curved right out into the water, -surrounding a stretch of surf. Men were fishing from the far side of the -pier; Norah could see immensely long rods, and once a gleam in the air -as a big fish was landed over the rail. But her interest centred on the -enclosed water, where hundreds of people were bathing in the breakers -that came rolling in from the sea. Durban bathing was famous, the doctor -had told her, since it combined the excitement and delight of surfing -with perfect safety. Norah watched them, fascinated. Some would wait, -waist-deep, for the breaker to come in behind them and carry them on its -crest ashore; others would face it, and as it came, dive right through -it, to swim in the more tranquil heave of water behind the crest. There -were old and young men and women; boys and girls, and tiny children, -most of them daring the deepest water, while a few paddled cheerfully -near the edge, sat down and shrieked when a wave came tumbling in, and, -if they did not swim, at any rate became extremely wet and happy. - -“Why do women always yell when they bathe?” asked Jim, coming in. “I -knocked three times, by the way, but you didn’t hear me.” - -“They don’t,” Norah said indignantly, ignoring his apology. “At least -sensible ones don’t.” - -“Then it’s the insensible ones that bathe,” Jim said, sticking to his -point. “At least nine-tenths of the women there scream when a wave hits -them—and it’s the same in any place you go to. I often -wonder”—reflectively—“how they break themselves of the habit -sufficiently to avoid screaming in the bathroom at home!” - -“Jimmy, you are an ass,” said his sister, politely. She looked up at him -with pleading. “It’s hot, and the sea looks lovely; I won’t yell, if -you’ll take me to bathe.” - -“That’s what I came for,” Jim answered. “Dad is deep in the last three -weeks’ papers, and Wally and I are pining for a swim. Come on!” They -plunged downstairs, found Wally awaiting them on the verandah, and -hurried down the terrace to the sea; and in five minutes Norah was -having her first taste of surfing, getting knocked flat by waves and -buried temporarily beneath what seemed thousands of tons of water, -coming up to the surface, breathless, but happy, and swimming wildly -until another breaker came over her; and learning in a very short time -to meet them and make use of them, diving through their green curves and -coming gloriously ashore upon their hollow backs. They stayed until the -sun left the sky, and the water grew chilly; then, damp and hilarious, -and exceedingly hungry, climbed up to the hotel. - -Mr. Linton was standing on the verandah, looking out. - -“I’m glad to see you,” he said; “you were so long that I’ve been -mentally recalling the treatment of the apparently drowned. Had a good -bathe?” - -“Oh, glorious!” said the bathers. “Is it time for dinner?” - -Ten minutes later they were enjoying it in a big dining-room that was -open on one side to the verandah, and to the darkening sea. Lights began -to flash out all round the semicircle of the pier, and along the -terraces—though the waiter, a bare-footed Indian in white clothes, told -them regretfully that since the war the fountains no longer were red and -green at night, but were turned off when dusk fell! - -“It seems a rum tribute to war,” Wally said. “But I suppose it’s all -right.” - -“Yes, sar—certainly, sar,” said the waiter. - -The hum of traffic did not cease, and the shouts of the bathers came up -plainly from the surf. The Billabong party strolled along the beach in -the hot dusk, and watched the heads bobbing in and out of the breakers, -mysteriously seen in the streaks of light cast by the lamps on the -encircling pier. Gradually the heat lessened and a pale moon climbed -into the sky. They turned homeward when Norah was discovered yawning. - -“Well, the sea is lovely, and all that,” Jim said, stretching his long -frame as he rose. “But I think it’s loveliest when you’re off it. It’s -good to feel tired again—I’m getting flabby with doing nothing on that -old ship. Three weeks of solid sea certainly makes you enjoy land!” - - - - -[Illustration: “They hailed rickshaws, and soon were running smoothly -along a wide road.”] - - _From Billabong to London_] [_Page_ 194 - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - - EXPLORING. - -WALLY awoke in the early dawn, under the stimulus of a damp sponge -pressed firmly against his face. - -“Beast!” he said sleepily, and hit out in a wild fashion which had, very -naturally, no effect. He opened his eyes, to see Jim, in his pyjamas, -grinning at him over the end of the bed. - -“Of all the restless animals!” said the injured Mr. Meadows. “Why ever -can’t you stay peaceably in bed on the rare occasion that you’ve got one -to stay in—instead of a creaking shelf? There can’t be anything wrong, -or you wouldn’t have a grin like a Cheshire cat!” - -“There is not,” said his chum, affably. “Only I couldn’t sleep, and it -seemed such a pity for you to be slumbering. Let’s get up.” - -“Get up! Whatever for?” - -“Oh, just to be up! It’s too hot to be in bed—and everything out of -doors looks so jolly. I’ve been out on the balcony for ever so long.” - -“Go to Jericho!” said Mr. Meadows, with finality, and turned over to -slumber anew. This laudable desire was frustrated by the gradual -withdrawal of all bedclothes; then, as the victim seemed resigned to -sleeping on the bare mattress, Jim rolled him up in it and deposited him -head-first on the floor. At this point slumber left the scene finally, -and the outraged Wally gave himself up to vengeance. - -Calmness was restored a little later, and the dishevelled combatants -regarded each other. - -“You hit like the kick of a pony,” said Jim, with respect, rubbing his -shoulder. “Isn’t it ripping to have space to move again? People of our -size aren’t meant for ship’s cabins.” - -“I was meant for bed,” said Wally, bestowing an affectionate glance on -that once placid retreat. “And you are meant for the gallows—and some -day you’ll get there! Now, what do you want to do? I’m awake.” - -“I’d noticed it,” said Jim, still handling his shoulder carefully. -“Wonderful how well you wake up when you make up your mind to it! Oh, I -don’t quite know what to do! But come out, anyhow.” - -“Well, we haven’t got very much shore time, so we may as well make the -best of it,” Wally assented, searching among the débris of the room for -his socks. “Land certainly does feel good under one’s feet once more. Do -we go for a walk along the beach, or what?” - -“No, I don’t want any more sea-views for a bit,” Jim answered. “We’ll -have plenty for the next month. I vote we go into the town and explore a -bit. There may be nothing to see, but it’s full of such queer people -that you never know what you may run into if you go off the beaten -track—and of course we can’t do that when Norah is with us.” - -“No. It sounds as if it might be interesting,” Wally said. “Jim, you -great camel, one of my socks is in the basin!—I hope to goodness I -packed up another pair.” He dived for his suit-case, and sighed with -relief on finding a further supply. “That saves your skin, old man. By -the way, what about the native market?” - -“I was wondering,” said Jim. “Of course, it’s Sunday—but one doesn’t -know how our Sunday affects these brown and black gentry. The doctor -said it began at some unearthly hour, and I think he said it was always -open, so it might be available on a Sunday.” - -“We might try,” Wally said. “Markets are generally best if you catch ’em -in the very early morning. Do you know where it is?” - -“Only that it’s the other side of the town from here,” Jim answered. “We -may pick up a stray rickshaw; or if not, we’ll find some one to ask. -Anyhow, it will be an exploration.” - -“Right-oh!” Wally agreed. “Durban seems to me much like any other place -if you omit the people—those queer coloured mixtures are the most -interesting part, by a long way. I’d like to find that market.” - -“Same here. It will be a walk, anyhow—and then we’ll get back in time -for a swim before breakfast. No need to leave a note on the pincushion, -like the eloping young ladies in novels, I suppose?” - -“Oh, we’ll be back before they’re awake!” Wally said. “Anyhow, your -father would understand that we had gone off on a voyage of discovery.” - -They dressed hurriedly and went downstairs through the quiet house. A -sleepy Indian boy let them out. The streets were empty save for a few -native sweepers; already there was promise of a hot day, but the morning -was cool and fresh. The sea a sheet of rippling blue that creamed at the -edge in long, slow rollers. The boys turned off the main thoroughfares, -and struck downwards to the city. - -Everything seemed asleep. There was no movement in any of the houses -they passed, and no traffic in the streets. Occasionally a sleepy dog -barked from a verandah, but without energy. There were many sleepers on -these verandahs; often they caught glimpses of stretcher-beds behind -bamboo blinds, where open-air enthusiasts had slumbered in outdoor -freshness through the hot night. “Quite like Australia,” said Wally, -approvingly. “This place isn’t so much unlike Brisbane, in many ways.” - -“So I was thinking,” Jim observed. “Brisbane is a bit grubbier, and has -more smells, and not such a mixture of races; but the Kanakas you see -there are not unlike the Kaffirs here, and the place itself has a good -many points of resemblance. It’s a kind of half-way house to the Old -World Cities, I suppose.” He took out his pipe, and looked half -regretfully at his friend. “I wish you smoked.” - -“Not me!” said Wally, sturdily. “You waited until you were nineteen, and -I’m jolly well going to. Don’t you bother.” - -“Oh, I don’t want you to start!” Jim said. “I think it’s a fool game to -begin too young. But I just wish you could, that’s all—it would be -sociable, and I feel rather a pig; you must be hungry. It was feeling -hungry that made me want a pipe.” - -“I daresay we’ll pick up some grub somewhere,” Wally said, cheerfully. -“I’m not hungry enough to worry about.” He looked at Jim keenly. “I -believe there are ever so many times that you don’t smoke just because -I’m there, and you don’t think it is sociable. Go on, you old donkey.” - -“Donkey yourself,” returned Jim, somewhat shamefacedly, but fishing in -his pocket for his tobacco-pouch. “I never did anything so stupid.” He -changed the subject with thankfulness, having in common with his chum a -great horror of any conversation that approached what they called -“softness.” “Look at that jolly little kid!” - -A small, brown person sat on a doorstep and looked at them with grave -eyes. He might possibly have been two years old, but his gaze had the -solemnity of extreme old age. He was clad in a very brief pink -nightgown, and his mop of curly hair was standing erect, just as he had -tousled it in sleep. - -“Good morning,” said Wally, stopping and addressing the baby with a -gravity equal to its own. “I hope you’re well. Will you shake hands?” - -The baby contemplated the outstretched hand for a moment, and glanced -again at the boyish face. Then he put his hand into Wally’s and -permitted himself the ghost of a grave smile. - -“I’ve seldom seen a better-mannered gentleman,” said Wally, stepping -back. “See if he’ll be as civil to you, Jim.” - -He was, and the smile broadened, though apparently he had no speech—as -Wally said, his grin made him independent of words. Jim produced a penny -and put it into the tiny paw that matched it in colour. Then the door -behind opened suddenly, and a Kaffir lady, evidently the baby’s mother, -and clad in a nightgown strongly resembling his, appeared in search of -her family—and at sight of the two boys, uttered a refined shriek and -disappeared as quickly as she had come. The baby, regarding this -performance as a circus, laughed very heartily; and Jim and Wally fled. - -In the business part of Durban itself there was even less sign of life -than among the cottages they had left. The shop-fronts were closely -shuttered, and everywhere there was silence. Once, down a side-street, -they caught sight of a native policeman, trim and smart in his dark -blue, close-fitting uniform, his shapely brown legs bare from his -knickerbockers, and a jaunty blue cap on one side of his close-cropped -curly head; but he did not see them, and they went on. Jim paused for a -moment. - -“We might ask that fellow where the market is,” he said. “What do you -think?” - -“Oh, he’s rather out of our way, isn’t he?” Wally answered, easily. “And -policemen have such a knack of moving off when you go after them; and -you have to chase them for blocks. We’re sure to come across somebody -soon.” To which Jim acquiesced; and thereby lost a chance of saving a -good deal of trouble. - -It was not an interesting city. The streets were dusty and untidy, and -in the gutters was a litter of rubbish that spoke eloquently of Saturday -night shopping. As they drew further and further away from the business -centre there were signs of more foreign occupation—queer inscriptions -in divers languages over the doorways of shuttered shops, and occasional -glimpses of Oriental wares in dingy windows belonging to shops that did -not rise to the dignity of shutters. Sometimes they had a brief vision -of curious eyes regarding them from behind half-drawn curtains. They met -an old Kaffir slinking along the gutter in search of some unsavoury -booty, and questioned him about the market; but either he knew no -English, or did not wish to understand them, for he only blinked and -uttered guttural and unintelligible words, holding out a knotted old -hand for money. The boys gave him some coppers and strolled on. - -“Well, Durban takes some beating, for laziness, if not for religious -fervour,” Jim said, at length. “I never saw a place more painfully -quiet—there may be a mixture of races, but they all observe the Sabbath -so far as sleeping goes. We’ll have to give it up and turn back, pretty -soon, since apparently we shall have to walk all the way home; trams and -rickshaws are as sound asleep as the inhabitants.” - -“There’s a chap who may know something,” said Wally, quickly. - -They had turned into a narrow street, and a rickshaw was coming slowly -along towards them, drawn by a big Zulu. It was a shabby rickshaw, and -the Zulu himself bore none of the adornments of his brethren in more -fashionable regions; he wore ordinary knickerbockers and a blue jumper, -and a single black feather was stuck through his tight curls. - -“What a dingy-looking beggar!” Jim said. “He looks as if he’s been up -all night.” - -“Probably he has, and he’s tired,” Wally answered. “Anyhow, he’s safe to -know about the market.” - -They hailed the Zulu, who did not, at first, seem inclined to stop. He -regarded them with sleepy, unfriendly eyes, but without -curiosity—though the tall, fresh-faced boys, in their light flannels -and Panama hats, were sufficiently unfamiliar figures in that mean -street in the early morning, before folk were awake. They repeated their -question—in answer he grunted ill-temperedly and resumed his slow walk. - -“Oh, bother!” said Jim. “I’d better give him something, and loosen his -tongue.” - -He drew out a loose handful of change and selected a small silver coin, -holding it out to the Zulu. The man’s eyes lit up, and he stopped and -backed to the footpath. - -“We may as well take him, if he wants a fare,” Wally said. “It isn’t a -luxurious-looking chariot, but it will do.” - -“Market?” queried Jim. “You know the market?” - -The Zulu looked vacantly at them for a moment. - -“Gen’lemen want go to market?” - -“Yes—native market; not white man’s,” Jim explained. “You know it?” - -The man still hesitated. - -“Yes,” he said at length. “You been there?” - -“No,” said Jim, impatiently. “We want to go. Is it open on Sundays?” - -“Yes,” said the Zulu, after a pause. “Take you?” He looked at them -keenly. - -“Yes—go ahead,” Jim said. They climbed into the rickshaw, and the Zulu -jogged off. - -He seemed to know his way readily enough. Up one poor street after -another he trotted, his slow strides covering a great deal of ground. -The locality grew more and more depressing: mean houses gave place to -ramshackle cottages, many of them mere huts, separated by tumble-down -fences, occasionally interspersed with grimy shops that were little more -than stalls. Depressed-looking fowls scratched in the gutters, and mangy -curs lay about every doorstep. - -“Well, this is about as unpromising an approach to a market as one could -imagine,” Jim remarked. “I’m glad we didn’t try to bring Norah—that kid -hates smells.” - -“Probably he’s taking us by short cuts,” Wally said; “he’s evidently -tired, and this unsavoury rabbit-warren may lead out into the -market-place. It can’t possibly be the usual approach; it’s too narrow, -and there is no sign of much traffic.” - -“I expect you’re right,” Jim answered. “Or else his happy home is in the -locality, and he doesn’t mean to go past it. I’ll have a word to say to -him, if he leaves us here.” - -“You may, but it’s doubtful if he’ll understand you,” Wally grinned. -“The conversation of these gentlemen is limited—though I fancy they -understand a good deal more than one would think. Now, what’s his game?” - -The rickshaw had swung round a corner, and into a yard, through an open -gate. A closed house gave no sign of life; across the yard was a stable, -and over the half-door a mule poked out a sleepy head. The Zulu put down -the shafts and turned to the boys, saying something that was only half -intelligible. - -“Not can do?” Jim said angrily, catching his drift. “What do you bring -us here for, then?” He got out, followed by Wally. - -“Short cut,” said the man, apologetically. “Can show market—through -there.” He pointed to a door in the high board fence. “Me bad feet—gone -too many trips.” - -“He looks footsore enough,” Wally said, scanning the slouching form. “No -good bothering about him, Jim—let’s pay him and clear out.” - -Another Zulu had come out of the stable, in which he appeared to have -slept with the mule. The first man shot a short, clicking sentence at -him, pointing to his feet. - -“Well, I don’t know what he expects, but that’s all he’s going to get,” -Jim said, handing the sullen Zulu some money. “Now, where’s your -market?” he added, sharply. “Hurry up!” - -“Market close through here, sir,” the man answered, more respectfully -than he had yet spoken. He led the way to the door in the fence, the -boys at his heels, and stood aside for them to pass through. - -“Why, it’s another yard——” Jim began, turning. - -He had no time for more. The Zulu’s fist shot out and took him between -the eyes, and he staggered through the doorway. At the same instant a -violent blow on the back of the head sent Wally headlong on top of his -friend. They went down in a heap together, unable to defend themselves. -A shower of blows with heavy sticks beat them back as they struggled to -rise. Jim tried to shout, but his voice died away helplessly; he flung -out his hand, finding only Wally’s face, strangely wet. Then he lost -consciousness. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - - WHAT CAME OF EXPLORING. - -“GOOD morning, Dad.” Norah came out upon the wide portico of the hotel; -a cool, fresh vision in a white linen frock. - -“Good morning, my girl,” said her father. There was a line between his -brows. “Have you seen the boys?” - -“No—aren’t they down yet?” - -“I don’t know where they are,” David Linton said. “They don’t seem to be -in the hotel.” - -“Oh, they’re bathing!” said Norah, with comfortable certainty. “It’s -such a hot morning—I wanted ever so much to go myself, only I woke so -disgracefully late.” - -“No, they’re not bathing. I’ve been down, and there was no sign of them. -I suppose they have gone out somewhere. They might at least get back in -time for breakfast.” - -“They won’t be long, you may be sure,” Norah answered. “I never saw such -hungry boys! Let’s go in, Daddy; it’s late, and you ought to have your -breakfast. The boys will turn up before we are half done.” - -“Oh, I suppose they’re all right!” her father said, leading the way to -their table. “They are quite big enough to look after themselves at any -rate; if they miss breakfast it’s their own look-out.” - -“Jim won’t miss breakfast,” said Jim’s sister. “What he has may be -queer, but he’ll have something. I expect they’ve gone for a tram ride -or a rickshaw trip, Daddy, and it has taken longer than they expected; -if they find themselves too far from home when they get hungry, they’ll -buy something.” - -“I suppose so.” Mr. Linton beckoned to a waiter. “Tell the young -gentlemen, if you see them, that we’re at breakfast.” - -“Yes, sar,” said the waiter, a tall and immaculate Indian, in white -clothes and a scarlet sash. He departed, to return presently. - -“Young gen’lemen gone out, sar. Very early—before light. Not yet -returned.” - -“It’s very annoying,” Mr. Linton said, as the waiter withdrew. He -laughed a little. “Jim has spoiled me, I suppose; he so rarely does -anything eccentric that when he does, I feel injured.” - -Norah answered his smile. - -“Jim’s awfully dependable,” she said, with the quaint gravity which was -wont to make Wally declare that she mistook herself for Jim’s aunt. -“He’ll stroll in presently, Daddy, looking nice and calm, just as usual. -They must have gone out exploring; the time here is so short, and it’s -their first foreign land, so they want to see all they can.” - -“Well, we don’t waste much time,” said Mr. Linton, still unappeased. - -“No. But I expect they want to run free a bit. You know boys can’t want -a girl with them all the time,” said Norah, sagely. - -“I have not observed,” said her father, “that having you with them has -made much difference to Jim and Wally’s fun in the past.” - -“They’re awfully good about it,” Norah answered. “But I know other -girls’ brothers object; most of them say they can’t be bothered with -girls. Of course, Jim and I grew up mates, and that makes all the -difference; I don’t really think he minds. But in a strange place they -may want to go exploring, and a girl might be in the way.” - -“Oh, possibly! All the same, I don’t know that I’m very keen on their -getting too far off the beaten track, in a place like this—full of all -sorts of natives. However, worrying does no good, and I suppose they’ll -stroll in presently.” Mr. Linton applied himself to his breakfast. “This -South African fish has a queer name, but it’s good, Norah; I’ll have -some more.” - -They looked up eagerly as each newcomer entered the dining-room. -Breakfast was going on in the lazy, haphazard manner common to all -hotels on Sunday. People strolled in at long intervals; mostly -brown-faced people from up country, in summer raiment—linen and silk -suits, and muslin frocks. Even in November Durban was very hot. But, -though they spun out the meal to the greatest possible length, breakfast -ended without any sign of the absentees. Mr. Linton went out on the -verandah at last, and lit his pipe, while Norah cast fruitless glances -up and down the white road, and across the terraces to the beach. - -“Well, you say I mustn’t worry, but I should like to have your -permission to be annoyed!” Mr. Linton said, when the pipe was -satisfactorily working. “I want to go out, not to hang round the hotel. -And what are we to do about those young rascals?” - -“I don’t know,” Norah answered, doubtfully. “It is funny, isn’t it, Dad? -I’m perfectly certain they are all right—but it’s so unlike Jim.” She -hesitated. “We can’t go and find them—that’s certain; and Jim would be -wild if we waited for him, and missed anything. I think we’d better go -by ourselves.” - -“So do I,” returned her father. “We’ll leave word that we’ll be in to -luncheon, and if they come while we’re out they can amuse themselves; -they are sure to want a bathe. Run and get your hat, lassie.” They went -off presently, a rather forlorn looking pair. - -It was about that time that Jim, in the darkness of the shed where he -had been flung, stirred, and opened his eyes. His head throbbed -furiously, and when he tried to sit up he found himself suddenly glad to -lie back again. For a little while he remained still, trying to remember -what had happened to him—with vague recollections that seemed to wander -between a savage black face and an earthquake. He was not very sure -about either. - -A rustle in the straw close by startled him—and in a flash he -remembered Wally, and forgot his aching bones. An instinct of prudence -kept him from speaking. Slowly he raised himself on one arm, and felt in -the darkness until he found a face, half-buried in straw. Wally stirred -again. - -“That you, old man?” he whispered weakly. - -“Ss-h,” Jim cautioned. “Are you hurt?” - -“I—don’t know,” Wally said, feebly. “I ache a heap—and my head’s -queer.” - -Jim set his teeth and managed to sit up. His head swam violently, and -for a moment he wrestled with nausea; then he managed to steady himself, -and began to feel Wally gently. - -“Wish I dared strike a match,” he muttered, “but my hand is too -shaky—and in this straw. Wal, you’ve no bones broken, old man, I -think.” - -“I don’t think so,” Wally answered. “Let’s wriggle.” He did so, and it -evidently hurt him, for Jim heard the swift intake of his breath. “No, -I’m all right,” he said. “How about you?” - -“Oh—battered a bit!” said Jim, to whom memory was returning slowly. -“Can I help you up, do you think? Great Cæsar, how this place smells!” - -He worked an arm under Wally, and helped him to a sitting position—an -effort which nearly lost consciousness for them both. They found the -wall near, and leaned back against it thankfully, until giddiness -subsided. Jim made further discoveries. - -“My watch has gone,” he announced. “Nice people! Likewise my -money—likewise my coat. How about you?” - -“A clean sweep, I think,” Wally said, faintly. “I don’t seem to have -anything but my shirt and trousers.” - -“That was their game, I expect,” Jim said. “Steady, old man, you’re -slipping—slip this way, and lean against my shoulder. They’ve taken all -they could get, and I expect they’ve cleared out.” - -“You don’t think they’ll have ideas about ransom?” Wally hazarded. - -“Not vermin like those—and in a city. No, I’ll bet they’re making for -Zululand or wherever they belong, by this time. Eh, but I was a fool!” -said Jim, bitterly. “And I thought I knew how to look after myself!” - -Wally groaned in sympathy. - -“Well, they fell on us like a cyclone,” he said. “I don’t seem to -remember anything beyond an appalling bang on my head and falling on top -of you. The beggars got me from behind.” - -“Mine began in front—but it was so sudden,” Jim said. “He looked such a -sleepy, tired lout—one never dreamed of suspecting danger. Well, it -will teach us a bit of sense. The question is, what are we going to do?” - -“Do you think we’re locked in?” - -“Very probably, but before I see, I’m going to get my muscles in -something like working order,” Jim said. “Try moving a bit and rubbing -your arms and legs—don’t stand up yet, or your head will swim.” - -“It’s got a lump on it the size of a golf-ball,” said Wally, feeling his -pate respectfully. “By Jove, I am stiff!” - -“My face is as stiff as the rest of me,” Jim answered. “Feels like much -dried gore. Well, thank goodness they didn’t break any bones.” - -The boys rubbed energetically for a while, a process involving severe -pain, since they encountered bruises at every touch. It did them good, -however, and after a little time Jim was able to stagger to his feet, -and to help Wally up. - -“I don’t suppose we could put up much of a fight,” he said. “But we may -not have to fight at all—they can’t get any more from us. Let’s see if -we’re locked in.” - -They felt carefully round the walls of the malodorous building, -stumbling in the filthy straw which covered the floor. Jim’s fingers, -groping in the darkness, at length discovered a latch; but the door -refused to yield. They experimented noiselessly at first and then, made -bold by indignation, shook it violently—without result. - -“It’s a stable, evidently,” Jim said. “This door’s in two halves, and -the top one is the one that is jammed—the lower half is pretty rickety. -Well, if any one is about, we’ll get visited—and if we don’t get the -door open we’ll certainly smother. Let’s try kicking it together, Wal.” - -They kicked, with what strength was left them; and at the third -onslaught a panel of the shaky door started outwards, letting in a gush -of fresh air and light: - -“Hurrah!” said Jim. “We’ll probably have the neighbourhood here in a -minute, so we may as well go on kicking. Can you manage it?” - -“Rather!” Wally panted. They attacked the next panel with fury. It fell -out in a moment, leaving a hole wide enough to crawl through. - -“No one in sight,” said Jim, putting out his head. “My word, the air is -good. Come on, old man, I’m going to chance it.” - -“Take care you don’t get another bang on the head,” Wally warned, -watching his chum squeeze through the narrow space, and realising how -helpless he would be in case of an attack. It was with immense relief -that he saw Jim safely through, and, stooping, watched him scramble to -his feet. - -“No one in sight,” Jim said. “Everything silent. Can you get through, -Wal?” - -“Oh, yes!” said Wally, trying to steady his swimming head. He crawled -through the hole, finding Jim’s arm waiting to aid him to his feet. For -a moment they blinked at each other in the strong sunlight. Then, weak -and aching as they were, they burst out laughing. - -“Great Scott, Jimmy, you do look lovely!” Wally gasped. “Am I like -that?” - -“I don’t know how I look, but I’m ready to swear that you’re worse!” Jim -answered. “They were certainly thorough, those Zulu gentlemen!” - -They had been thorough. The immaculate lads who had strolled out of the -hotel in the morning were tattered scarecrows, clad in shirt and -trousers only—and those garments torn, and filthy from the straw on -which they had been thrown. Nothing whatever of personal property -remained to them. They were ghastly pale, their faces streaked with -blood which had flowed freely from cuts and wounds, and had mingled with -dirt into a remarkable colour scheme. Jim, in addition, possessed a pair -of black eyes that could scarcely have been surpassed in richness of -hue; while any German duelling student would have envied the cut which -seamed Wally’s cheek. - -“Even a native policeman would arrest us at sight as rogues and -vagabonds,” Wally said. “Can’t we clean up a bit?” - -“Don’t know,” Jim answered. “Let’s see.” - -There was no sign of any occupant in the dingy hovel across the yard. -The boys peeped fruitlessly through a shuttered window, tried the door, -and found it locked, and could find no trace of either the rickshaw -which had brought them there or the mule they had seen in the first -stable. It was evident that the Zulus, after securing their booty, had -hastily decamped. Further search, however, revealed a tap, dripping in a -corner. They drank from it thirstily, and bathed their heads and faces -for some time, with the aid of fragments torn from their tattered silk -shirts. - -“You look as if you had once been respectable,” Wally remarked. “At -least you would, but for your black eyes. I know I’m hopeless, so you -needn’t bother to say anything!” He dabbed at his cheek, which washing -had induced to bleed again. - -“You’ve improved tremendously,” Jim said. “Cold water is certainly not -much good for dirt of this degree of grubbiness, but we don’t look quite -such banditti as we did. How do you feel?” - -“Better—only top-heavy and stiff. How about you?” - -“Oh, I’m much the same—with a champion head ache; about the first I -ever had, I think!” Jim answered. “Do you feel up to walking?” - -“I wouldn’t choose it for pleasure,” said Wally, his old smile sitting -oddly on his white face. “But I can manage it all right. What shall we -do?” - -“I think the only thing is to get back to the hotel,” Jim answered. “I -thought of going to the ship for fresh clothes, but all our keys are at -the hotel. No policeman would listen to us for a moment, looking like -this; we’ll be lucky if we don’t get run in by the first we meet. It’s -an abominably long way for you, old man—sure you can manage it?” - -“Rather!” Wally said, cheerily. “We’ll prop each other up. Come along.” - -They went out into the street. A few brown children were playing in the -dust, and looked at them curiously, and some loutish Kaffir boys of -fifteen or sixteen jeered at them from a verandah; but the houses were -all shut, to keep out the heat, and they encountered very few -passers-by—all natives, who showed little curiosity. The sun blazed -fiercely on their bare heads; there was no shade in the street, and -already they were again painfully thirsty. Wally staggered frequently -from weakness, and was glad of Jim’s arm—though he put so little weight -upon it that Jim abused him roundly. They made their painful way back -towards the city. - -“I’d be almost glad to meet a policeman,” Jim said, at last. “We’ll -never walk all that way; you’re done now, old chap.” - -“Not me!” Wally gasped. “Come on.” - -They turned into a wider thoroughfare. It was nearing noon; Durban was -waking up. Along the street, on his way to the principal square of the -city, came trotting a very smart rickshaw boy—a vision of scarlet and -white, and nodding plumes and towering bullock-horns. Jim looked at him -hungrily. - -“There’s the very fellow we had yesterday,” he said. “I suppose he’d -howl if we tried to stop him.” - -He gave an involuntary hail, and the Zulu, amazed at the crisp tone of -command, stopped dead, looking at them doubtfully. - -“What you want?” he said. - -“Your rickshaw,” Jim answered. “Hotel King George.” He dragged Wally -forward. - -The Zulu grinned widely. - -“Not much!” he said. “Got money?” - -“At the hotel—not here.” - -Something was puzzling the rickshaw “boy.” He looked questioningly from -one to another of the white-faced lads. They were scarecrows—but he -knew enough of the tourists he dragged round Durban to be certain that -these belonged to the race that employed him. Jim’s disfigured face was -full of authority. Wally, beyond any mere speech, leaned against the -rickshaw, gripping the rail. - -“You been hurt?” the “boy” ventured. - -Jim explained curtly. There had been a fight, they had been robbed. They -must get to the Hotel King George for clothes and money; moreover, this -rickshaw must take them. “We had you yesterday,” Jim finished. “From the -Point.” - -Light suddenly flashed into the Zulu’s eyes. - -“Blue Funnel ship?” he exclaimed. - -Jim nodded. “Four of us. Will you take us? We’ll give you five -shillings.” - -The Zulu nodded so alarmingly that it seemed certain that his head-dress -would fall off. - -“Me take you,” he said. “Get in.” He came to help to get Wally into the -seat. Jim climbed in thankfully. - -“Go by back streets,” he commanded. - -So it was that Norah, standing disconsolately on the hotel verandah, saw -a strange rickshaw-load approaching—and after a hurried glance, fled to -meet it. - -“Jim—are you much hurt?” - -“I’m all right—Wally’s about done,” Jim said. “Pay this chap, Norah; -we’re going in by the back way. You’d better come too, to lend an air of -respectability.” - -Norah ran beside the rickshaw, choking back further questions. In the -back yard of the hotel she encountered the manager, and a brief word of -explanation brought help from half a dozen quarters. - -“That chap has done us a mighty good turn,” Jim said, indicating the -Zulu. “Give him ten shillings—I promised him five. You tell dad—we’ve -been in a scrimmage, but there’s no need to worry—none whatever.” A -sudden giddiness came over him, and two waiters caught him swiftly and -bore him off in Wally’s wake. Norah, half-sobbing, heard him feebly -informing them that he was never better able to walk. - -An hour later the boys held a reception in their room. Hot baths and -strong soap had done wonders for them, and the doctor Mr. Linton had -insisted on summoning had declared that they had sustained no serious -damage. A few strips of sticking-plaster adorned them, and Jim’s -blackened eyes lent him a curiously sinister aspect. - -“I never thought bed could feel so good,” Wally declared. - -“Bed is good,” said Jim, from across the room—“but bath was better. -What did that Zulu who brought us home say to you, Norah?” - -“He was too overcome by his half-sovereign to say much at all,” Norah -answered. “And as it was mainly Zulu-talk, I didn’t gather a great deal -of what he did say.” She twinkled. “I think he meant to assure me that -you were a great chief—no matter how grubby you looked. And as he has -done nothing ever since but parade up and down the road in front of the -hotel, I believe he means to attach himself to us permanently.” - -“Tell him, if you see him, that we’ll have him again to-morrow,” Jim -said. “He’s a good chap.” - -“I don’t think you will do much rickshaw driving to-morrow,” Mr. Linton -said. - -“Won’t we!” said the patients, in chorus; and Jim laughed. - -“I’m awfully sorry we made such asses of ourselves, and worried you, -Dad,” he said. “But it’s bad enough to waste one shore day; we’ll be fit -as fiddles to-morrow, and ready for anything—if you don’t mind going -about with two battle-scarred objects.” - -David Linton smiled a little grimly. - -“There’s only one thing I should really mind,” he said—“and that would -be to let you out again alone!” - - - - -[Illustration: “Jim set his teeth and managed to sit up.”] - - _From Billabong to London_] [_Page_ 214 - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - - GOOD-BYE TO DURBAN. - -NORAH and her father left their patients sound asleep, after luncheon, -and went out to Umgeni on the top of an electric tram—seeing Kaffirs -innumerable, in gala Sunday dress, and, at the end of the long run, the -shallow, winding river that seems to be always cutting for itself new -channels among its mud-flats. A long bridge crosses it; they stood -there, watching the bare-footed native boys who strolled through the -river rather than trouble to climb up to the bridge. - -“So much more sensible!” said Norah, envying them openly. - -They found a hotel with a big garden sloping down to the river, and -little tables with basket-chairs scattered about it. Two were in the -shade of a big clump of bamboo; and there they had tea, and watched the -queer, cosmopolitan crowd that filled the place—travellers, passengers -from all the ships lying at the Point, soldiers and sailors, and the -youth and beauty of Durban itself, out for the afternoon. The Indian -waiters flitted about, busy and noiseless. There were long-legged birds -in the garden, walking with ridiculous solemnity near the river-bank; -and a big wire-netted house that held innumerable pigeons—exquisitely -marked birds, whose cooing filled the air. Plants and flowers grew there -which they had never seen; and there was a tree with tiny red-and-black -seeds like jewels. - -They strolled further up the winding road, and came to Umgeni village -itself, where almost every coloured race seemed to nourish together. The -deep bush grew on both sides of it, right up to the straggling street. -All the people were out in front of their houses. - -“Aren’t they the nicest children!” Norah uttered. - -They were everywhere—cheery babies just able to crawl; mites of two or -three in bright scraps of clothing; and bigger children who played their -own solemn games without paying much attention to the strangers. One -ridiculous person of perhaps four years came strutting down the middle -of the street after his mother, his small form framed in a gigantic -yellow umbrella, which he held open behind him. The best of all, they -found in a patch of grass under a tree—half a dozen mothers with tiny -babies, who tumbled about in every direction. - -“Could I photograph them, do you think?” Norah asked. - -“I don’t suppose they would mind,” her father replied. “We’ll ask them.” - -To ask was one thing, but to get an answer, another. The Kaffir ladies -were rather alarmed, and plainly regarded the small black box Norah held -as a very bad kind of magic. They caught up their babies, and jabbered -together, while Norah stood, half-laughing, making no attempt to -photograph them without their permission. Help came in the person of a -brisk rickshaw “boy,” who took in the situation at a glance, and -explained to the anxious mothers that the white young lady merely wished -to pay them and their children a high compliment in making a picture of -them—whereupon the mothers subsided immediately, and held up the fat, -brown scraps of humanity, who struggled wildly, like babies all the -world over before a camera, while their anxious parents addressed to -them the Kaffir equivalent of “Look pleasant, please.” The rickshaw -“boy” stood by, beaming like a full moon, and uttering words of -encouragement. Afterwards the travellers engaged him and his rickshaw—a -contingency which he had probably foreseen; and they jogged lazily back -to Durban, arriving at the hotel towards evening. Two tall figures, -rather sheepish and pale-faced, rose from verandah lounges and came to -meet them. - -“You bad boys!” Norah exclaimed. - -“Do you think you two should be out of bed?” Mr. Linton asked. - -“Rather!” Jim answered firmly. “We stayed there until they brought us -tea—but they didn’t bring half enough food, so we got up and went to -find more. We’re all right.” - -“It sounds as though you were!” Norah said, laughing. “How are the -bruises?” - -“Oh—a bit stiff. Exercise is the best thing for them.” The subject was -evidently sorer than the bruises, and Jim changed it, demanding an -account of their day. - -“I’ve a letter from the captain,” Mr. Linton announced, when they all -met at breakfast next morning. “The ship is leaving earlier than we -thought—we have to be on board at noon.” - -“Bother!” said his hearers, as one man. - -“It’s a bore, but there are compensations. The warship we saw at the -Point is going ahead of us to Cape Town—and that means no war -precautions for a few days.” - -“Open port-holes!” said Norah, blissfully. “Deck lights—no more stuffy -saloon! Lights in one’s cabin——!” - -“Which you’re sure not to need, since you can have it,” Wally -interpolated. - -“I’ll have it, anyhow,” said Norah, laughing. “It would be almost worth -toothache!” - -“I thought you would be pleased,” her father said. “There is also a -letter from the police department, Jim, stating that their inquiries -about your friends of yesterday have been fruitless. They have hunted up -the house, but, as you suspected, the birds had flown.” - -“Oh, they’re up-country by this time!” Jim said. - -“So the police think. They say they may be able to track them by means -of the list of stolen property we gave them, but it’s hardly likely.” - -“Well, it doesn’t matter much,” Jim answered. “I shouldn’t be here to -identify anything, and unless I could get my hands on the man who hit me -I don’t know that I’m thirsting to hear of his being caught.” - -“Only gore would satisfy us!” murmured Wally. - -“Just so; failing gore, there’s not much satisfaction in hearing that -they’ve put the poor brute in prison—except to teach him to let -unsuspecting white people alone in future. I suppose that ought to be -done,” Jim said, reflectively. - -“Decidedly it ought—but the police don’t see much chance,” said Mr. -Linton, folding up the letter. “Has any one any wishes as to occupying -the morning?” - -“I don’t know if you’ll think us a little insane,” Jim said—“but Wally -and I consider that our honour, or what’s left of it, is, to a certain -extent, at stake. We want to find that native market!” - -“My dear boy, haven’t you had enough of that particular hunt?” asked his -father, looking at his bruised face. - -“It’s really harmless,” Jim explained. “We’ve been asking the manager; -he says the place is quite near the city, and any rickshaw fellow knows -it—we can choose one sufficiently ornamental to be respectable this -time. And it’s an interesting place—he says Norah ought to see it.” - -“Oh—can I go? Joyful!” said Norah, delightedly. - -“Well, if it’s really all right, we’ll tackle it,” said Mr. Linton. “The -doctor said it was a place to visit, I remember. We’ll send off our -luggage to the ship at once, and then we’ll have a free hand.” - -A spectacular figure awaited them in the road when they came out a -little later, ready for exploration. - -“I told you that gentleman had attached himself to the family,” said -Norah, laughing. “Look—he’s just beaming at you, Jim!” - -The Zulu “boy” who had befriended them the day before stood at -attention, his broad, black face lit from ear to ear by a smile of -welcome. His scarlet and white adornments were spic-and-span, and his -headgear even more glorious than before. - -“Gen’lemen allright?” he queried, as the boys approached. He cast a keen -eye on their still visible signs of battle. - -Jim nodded. - -“Thanks to you for bringing us home, my friend, we are,” he said. “You -know the native market?” - -The Zulu grinned. “Oh, yes, sar!” - -Jim hailed another rickshaw, and the four travellers boarded them and -trotted off. Never was there to be seen anything so proud as the boys’ -Zulu. He had evidently made up his mind that he belonged to them, and -had betrayed some anxiety until certain that they were to be his -passengers; but when this point was satisfactorily decided, he gave vent -to the pride that was in him, and pranced off like a high-stepping -circus horse—throwing out his feet, resplendent in a new coat of white -paint, with his head well back, his feathers streaming, and his whole -bearing full of vainglory. - -“He looks as if he wanted to say ‘Bayété!’—whatever that means. And he -certainly thinks he owns the road,” Wally said, watching the magnificent -figure. - -“I wish he’d moderate his transports,” Jim said, laughing. “He’s making -every one look at us—and I prefer not to attract undue attention with a -pair of black eyes like these—to say nothing of much sticking-plaster. -However, I suppose it’s no good talking to him in English, and I don’t -want to hurt the poor chap’s feelings—but this sort of thing makes one -feel like a circus procession. One only needs a band and an elephant, to -be complete!” - -The “boy,” however, calmed down presently, and merely showed the depth -of his emotion by going at such a pace that the other rickshaw steed -fell far in the rear, and was justly indignant at his compatriot’s -unreasonable energy. They raced through the town, and for a time -followed the streets through which the boys had strolled the day before; -but instead of turning into the poorer quarter, a turn brought them to a -wide road where many mule-carts and shabby rickshaws blocked the way. -Before a big building was a collection of smarter rickshaws—but their -Zulu attendants were nowhere to be seen. - -“That the market?” Jim called to his “boy.” - -The Zulu paused. - -“No sar—that eating-house. Gen’lemen like to see it? Market next door.” - -“We might as well,” Jim said. “Wait for us.” Mr. Linton and Norah -appeared, and they dismounted. - -Within the big building Kaffirs squatted on the ground, working with -wire at the native bangles that every South African traveller knows. -Some were plaiting the wire into sjambok handles, in intricate patterns, -laying the bands of wire among strands of raw-hide, or capping the -finished handle with an elaborate “Turk’s head”; others had piles of -bangles on the ground beside them, in all sizes, from those fitted for -babies’ wrists to the big circlets worn above the knee. The work was -wonderfully fine. - -“I’m really glad to see those fellows,” Mr. Linton observed. “So much -‘native’ work is really made in Birmingham or Germany nowadays that one -never knows what is genuine.” - -“No,” said Wally. “One of my girl cousins was out with a camping-party -in the wilds when she was staying in British East Africa, and they came -across a few natives who offered curios for sale—rough carvings, bits -of ivory, and things like that. Enid was awfully keen on genuine things, -and jumped at the chance—as she said, you don’t often find the really -untutored savage in these times. One of the things she bought was a big -ivory bangle. I think she got it from a woman who was wearing it. Enid -was very proud of it. She said it was so real.” - -“It certainly should be, bought in those circumstances,” said Mr. -Linton. - -“It should. She was very annoyed on the voyage home when one of the -officers rather doubted it. So they had a bet—he was to put a match to -it, and pay up if nothing occurred. But when he applied the match poor -Enid’s ‘ivory’ sputtered and went up in flame—and behold, there was no -more bangle!” - -“Celluloid!” Jim grinned. - -Wally nodded. “Made in Birmingham or some such place, and shipped out by -the gross to the untutored savage. Hollow world, isn’t it?” - -Norah had bought bangles—fresh from the maker’s hand—and they turned -away. A long table ran down the centre of the building, with rough -benches drawn up to it; and here sat numbers of Kaffirs and Zulus, -breakfasting. Many were of the rough coolie type, dressed in ordinary -clothes; but here and there a blaze of colour marked the smart rickshaw -steed—and in one corner where half a dozen were eating together their -rainbow head-dresses were like a flower-bed, the brighter because of the -dinginess all round them. On a separate table were immense bowls, heaped -with steaming masses of curry and rice and weird-appearing stews. A man -would come in and sit down, calling impatiently; and in an instant a -native waitress would bring him a gigantic helping, supply him with an -iron spoon, take his payment—a small copper coin—and rush off to a -newcomer. - -“You’d live cheaply here,” Wally remarked, watching a native boy attack -a heap of curry like a miniature mountain. - -“Yes, but you wouldn’t live long,” Norah answered. “Did you ever see -such poisonous-looking food? I don’t think I want to watch this—it’s -rather like the zoo at meal times. Let’s find the market.” - -A stream of people going in and out guided them to the bazaar. It was -almost entirely Indian, so far as the stalls were concerned, though the -people who thronged it were of many nationalities. There was an -impression of light and colour and cheerfulness. Indian women in bright -draperies went up and down, many carrying tiny wise-eyed babies. There -were stalls for the sale of native jewellery—gaudy, tinselled stuff -that looked appalling as it hung to tempt the passer-by, but somehow -became exactly the right thing when worn by the dark-eyed coloured -women. It was mingled, however, with cheap jewellery of the kind that -England and Germany turn out by the ton—and this did not fit in -anywhere, but stood out among the native wares, blatantly vulgar. Then -there were stalls for post-cards, and for strange religious -pictures—gaudy representations of temples and gods and sacred animals; -others covered with weird cooked foods, in bowls and dishes, and with -cakes and high-coloured sweetmeats—all appearing, to Australian eyes, -extremely unpleasant and indigestible, but apparently devoured with -amazing appetite by the children who thronged the bazaar. Almost more -interesting were the vegetable stalls, since here were piled such -growths as the Australians had never heard of; curious green, twisted -things like French beans run mad, masses of salad materials, equally -novel, and oddly-shaped gourds of different colours. - -Nobody took much notice of the Billabong party. Tourists were nothing -new, and every one was too busy to trouble over them. Chattering, buying -and selling, gossiping and eating, went on incessantly, with no time to -spare from the business of the moment; it was evident that the market -was the great occasion of the day to most of these cheery, chattering -people. It was too crowded to keep together. Wally and Norah strolled on -ahead, while Jim and his father paused to look at a stall devoted to the -sale of different kinds of dried grain, not one of which they had ever -seen before. - -“Steady, old lad,” said Wally, stooping to pick up a fat black baby -whose mother had placed it by the side of the path, giving it a -horrible-looking cake to keep it occupied. A stray dog had annexed the -cake, and the baby, staggering after it in helpless wrath, had fallen in -the midst of the path, and lay there among the hurrying feet, uttering -shrill cries. - -“I’ll get it another,” said Norah, swiftly departing. She came back, -gingerly carrying the delicacy, which the baby accepted gravely. The -mother bore down on them, evidently anxious, but relieved by her -offspring’s contented face. - -“He’s all right,” Norah told her, smiling—the mother understanding the -smile more than the words. Norah put a penny into the little hand not -occupied by cake, and they strolled on, turning out of the crowded part -towards a less frequented corner where they could see Mr. Linton and -Jim. - -“What rum beasts babies are!” said Wally, meaning no disrespect. “Some -of ’em—the brand one knows—have to be brought up in prams by nurses, -all sterilised and disinfected and germ-proof; and others tumble round -in the dust among dogs, like that jolly little black imp, and grow up -just as strong. I don’t understand it; I suppose I’m not meant to.” - -“It is queer,” Norah admitted. “I suppose it’s what they’re used to.” - -“But a baby can’t be awfully used to anything—except howling!” -dissented Wally. “And these kids——” - -“Block that man! Block him, Wally!” - -Jim’s voice rang out over the din of the market as Wally had heard it -many a time on the football field at school—and he swung to answer it -just as he had learned to obey it there. A big Zulu was charging down -the path; he saw Wally’s tense face, realised how thick was the crowd -beyond him, and turned up a side alley. Jim put his hand on a long table -and vaulted across to cut him off. He braced himself as he landed; then -his left hand shot out and took the Zulu neatly on the point of the jaw. -The big black crumpled up into a heap, and in a moment Jim and Wally -were on top of him. - -The market boiled as an ant-heap boils, stirred up by a careless kick. -People came running and shouting, blocking every passage; many with -threatening faces, looking angrily at the white lads and the struggling -Zulu. Then two soldiers in khaki forced a way through the crowd. - -“Guess this is where we lend a hand,” said one, securing the wrists of -the prisoner in a workmanlike grip. “That was just about as neat a hit -as ever I seen. I’d like to know who taught you, young feller. Lie still -now, will you?” and the Zulu subsided, muttering unpleasant things. - -“Get hold of a policeman, will you?” said Jim. “Wally, you go.” - -“Oh, he’s wanted, is he?” said the second soldier, sitting comfortably -on the Zulu’s legs. “I thought you seemed to know him.” - -“I ought to,” Jim answered. “He gave me this pair of black eyes -yesterday.” - -The soldier whistled. - -“No wonder you was anxious for him,” he said. “Well, I guess you’ve paid -him back—he won’t eat comfortable for a week.” Then Wally and two -native policemen came back through the chattering throng, and Jim handed -the prisoner over to the care of the law. - -They made a procession to the police-station, the Zulu maintaining a -sullen silence, while a crowd gathered and followed them. Jim’s rickshaw -“boy,” who had evidently learned the whole story from the hotel, was a -centre of attraction—he dragged his empty chariot behind Jim, loudly -explaining the matter to those about him, and proclaiming his undoubted -belief in Jim’s chieftainship. The hero of the moment nursed -badly-bruised knuckles and looked as unhappy as his prisoner. - -At the station matters were swiftly dealt with—law in Durban did not -believe in detaining a party of white tourists over a native case. A -white-haired old Scotchman, authoritative and kindly, put swift -questions. - -“Ye canna identify any of y’re property, I suppose?” - -Jim grinned. - -“If you take off his tie you’ll find ‘Jones & Dawson, Melbourne,’ -branded on it,” he said. - -“Eh, but it’s so,” said the inspector, examining the adornment in -question, which the native policemen had swiftly removed from the -prisoner’s collarless neck. “Wull ye be wantin’ it back?” - -“I will not,” said Jim, hastily. “Give it to him, with my blessing when -he comes out—and I hope you won’t be hard on him, sir.” - -“H’m. Ye’re a fulish young man,” said the inspector, severely. “Just -because ye’ve got in a bonny wee hit on the jaw, ye’re satisfied—but -there’s law an’ order to be kept, an’ me to see it’s done. D’ye think I -want the next pair of eejiotic young Australians laid out in a stable?” -Whereat Jim and Wally blushed, and interceded for the prisoner no more. - -They signed various legal documents, and at length escaped. - -“I don’t want him punished, poor wretch,” said Jim; “that smite on the -jaw made me feel like a Christian lamb. But I suppose it’s got to be -done.” - -“Well, I didn’t get in at all, so I don’t feel half so godly,” returned -Wally. “I think he’s well out of the way, and I only wish we’d caught -his mate—the gentleman who attended to my head in the rear.” - -“My sentiments, entirely,” Mr. Linton remarked. “And now we’ll get back -to the ship. I trust every port isn’t going to supply us with as many -sensations as Durban!” - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - - - MIST AND MOONLIGHT. - -“AS you know, Miss Norah,” the captain said gravely, “I discourage early -rising. It’s a bad thing—leads to chronic attacks of superfluous -energy, and embroils passengers with the deck-hands.” - -“Especially the last!” said Norah, laughing. - -“Well—possibly. Deck hands are busy people and passengers are not; -therefore passengers should remain peaceably in bed until they won’t be -in the way. Which remarks are not intended to apply to you, Miss Norah.” - -“How would they?” Jim laughed. “There’s nothing of the Spartan early -riser about Norah.” - -“I’m delighted to hear it,” the captain said. “All the same, I’m about -to advise you to turn out early to-morrow. We’ll be in Cape Town about -six in the morning, and you mustn’t miss the sunrise over the mountain. -It’s one of the finest things in the world.” - -“Oh, I’m glad you told me, captain,” Norah said. “I’ll tell my steward -to call me.” - -“Yes—don’t forget. The harbour is an interesting one altogether; but -the mountains are grand, and coming in, the view changes each moment. We -shall probably be going out in the dusk, so you must be sure of seeing -the entrance.” - -They had had a quick and uneventful run round the Cape of Good Hope from -Durban, missing altogether the dreaded “Agulhas roll” which is the -bugbear of the sea-sick. Every one had revelled in the luxury of lit -decks and open port-holes, in the security lent by the knowledge that a -British cruiser was just ahead of the _Perseus_. To-morrow night the old -restrictions would be in full force again—but first there would be Cape -Town, and twelve hours ashore. Norah had always had vague longings to -see Cape Town; no port on the homeward route interested her half so much -as the city nestling at the foot of Table Mountain. She went to bed -early, leaving everything in readiness for the morning start—determined -to waste nothing of that precious twelve hours. - -It was still dark when she awoke, with a start, from a confused dream, -in which she had been chased by an apparently infuriated motor, -shrieking defiance at her. As she tried to collect her scattered -faculties the sound she had heard in her dream came again—a long, -hoarse shriek. - -“What on earth——?” she queried, sitting up. She switched on her -light—it was two o’clock. Voices were heard along the corridor, to be -drowned by another evil howl. - -“Something’s wrong,” Norah decided. “It can’t be boat-drill for us, -’cause that’s two short, sharp whistles. Everything’s funny and dim—I -believe something has gone wrong with the electric light supply.” She -jumped, as the long scream came again. - -Then she heard her father’s voice, quiet and steadying. - -“Awake, Norah? Not scared, are you?” - -“N-no, I don’t think so, Daddy,” Norah answered, not quite certain if -she were speaking the truth. “Is it the Germans?” - -“It’s fog, I think,” Mr. Linton said, coming in. “My cabin is full of -it—and so is yours.” - -Voices were breaking out everywhere, drowned at regular intervals by the -long howl. - -“What’s the matter?” - -“Is it the Germans?” - -“We’re wrecked, I suppose.” This was an elderly lady’s voice, in -lugubrious certainty. - -“It’s boat-drill—hurry up!” - -“We’re signalling for help!” - -“Henry—where are my slippers?” And Henry’s voice—“I haven’t got ’em -on, my dear!” - -Jim was in Norah’s cabin, suddenly. - -“Thought you might be scared, kiddie,” he said. “But it’s only fog, I -think. Great Scott! doesn’t that siren make a row!” - -Then came the voice of the third officer, very bored and patient; and a -dozen voices assailing him. - -“No—fog only, I assure you. No danger at all. No—there isn’t a German -within a hundred miles. Merely fog-horn, madam. Yes, it’s quite thick. -Certainly you can come on deck, if you really like fog; you won’t see -anything. No, we don’t expect to run on any rocks. I should advise you -to get back to bed. The fog-horn blows every half-minute.” - -“But it’s waked the baby!” came on a high note of grievance. - -“Sorry,” said the third officer’s bored voice, still polite. “I should -recommend the baby to get used to it.” They heard his quick footsteps -retreating up the corridor. - -“Well, there’s nothing to stay up for—and isn’t it cold!” Jim -ejaculated. “I hope to goodness this will have gone before morning; it -will be a nuisance if it spoilt the entrance to the harbour, so far as -view is concerned.” - -“Don’t speak of such a horrid thing!” said Norah, sleepily, snuggling -down among the pillows. “Go back to bed, Daddy dear—you’ll get so cold. -Thank you both for coming.” For a while she stayed awake, while the -clamour in the ship died down gradually, and only the slow hooting of -the siren was heard. It was not exactly a soothing lullaby, but -nevertheless Norah fell asleep. - -Her steward’s face peered at her some hours later. He had switched on -the light, but the cabin was eerie and dim. - -“I didn’t like not to call you, miss, as you said,” he remarked. “But as -far as gettin’ up to see the view’s concerned, there ain’t none. There’s -nothin’ but fog anywhere.” - -Norah uttered a disgusted exclamation. - -“Oh, I did want to see the entrance!” - -“Well, there ain’t no entrance neither, miss. Captain, he won’t risk -tryin’ to get in—why, you can’t see your ’and in front of you. We’ve -just got to lie about until the fog lifts—an’ goodness knows when -that’ll be. If I was you, miss, I’d just go to sleep again till the -usual time to get up—an’ if the fog clears before, I’ll come an’ tell -you at once.” - -“Well, if there’s nothing to see, I suppose I had better do that,” said -Norah, yawning. - -“There’s much worse than nothin’, miss,” the steward said, his voice as -gloomy as the cabin. He went away, after turning out the light. - -“It’s absolutely disgusting!” Wally declared when breakfast was over. It -had been a queer meal, eaten in a kind of dim half-light; and now they -were on deck, wrapped in heavy coats, yet shivering a little. All about -them was a dense white wall of mist. It was impossible to see more than -a few yards in any direction; people who passed them loomed dimly first, -then came out of the wall more clearly, until quite visible, and in a -moment were swallowed up again as their footsteps died away. The fog -swung in wreaths between them as they talked, whenever a breath of light -wind came; but for the most part there was no wind at all, and a heavy -stillness seemed to weigh upon everything. At half-minute intervals the -hoarse scream of the fog-horn roared out above their heads, in a -hideous, discordant howl; and from all around them came similar shrieks, -some far off, some so near that at any moment it seemed that the fog -might part and show a ship drifting down upon them. - -The _Perseus_ herself was drifting. Part of the uncanny stillness was -due to the absence of the familiar throb of the screw. Inch by inch she -slid through the oily water, of which no trace could be seen even by -peering over the side. There was nothing but mist. The wet decks were -slippery with it; there was no dry corner anywhere. Through it the -gigantic blue shape of the funnel loomed dimly, but its top was quite -lost; they could not even see the bridge, where a double watch was being -kept. The captain had not left it since the first fog-cloud had rolled -up out of the sea. - -“It isn’t safe to speak to an officer,” Jim declared. “Poor beggars, -they’re all on duty; it must be cheery to have responsibility in this -sort of weather. I found MacTavish right up in the bow, straining his -eyes into the fog, and put a timid question to him—I wouldn’t have -wondered if he had snapped my head off, but he was pretty civil. He says -there’s not the slightest prospect yet of its lifting, unless a wind -gets up—and there’s no sign of a wind!” - -“Well, that is pretty cheery,” uttered Wally. “However, it’s all -experience.” - -“Confirmed optimists like you ought to be sat on three times a day!” Jim -said. “A little of this sort of experience goes a long way—and doesn’t -make up for missing the sunrise on Table Mountain.” - -“Never mind—it will give you something to talk of for ever so long,” -Wally answered. “You can’t possibly talk about sunrises to a girl you’re -dancing with, but you can make awfully good yarns out of a fog like -this. Cheer up, Jimmy; you’ll be ever so much more interesting in the -future!” - -“I’m not proposing to do much dancing, or talking either,” said Jim, -laughing. “So the prospect doesn’t console me. At the moment, it would -console me more to batter someone—preferably you. Norah, you’re cold!” - -“I know I am,” said Norah, shivering. “This old fog gets into one’s very -bones. Doesn’t it make you homesick now to think of old Billabong, and -the sunlight out on the Far Plain!” - -“And a bogged bullock, with a note like that fog-horn!” retorted Wally. -“It’s too cold to stand still, I think—let’s walk.” - -They walked, arm in arm, with Norah between them, finding it necessary -to talk loudly to avoid collisions in the fog, as their rubber-soled -shoes made no sound on the deck. In the fore part of the ship a few -bedraggled sea-birds had floundered into the rigging, and now sat there, -crouched and miserable, afraid to set off again into the white horror -all round them. A magpie, brought from Australia, which ordinarily lived -in the bow and made cheerful remarks to the whole ship, was crouched in -a corner of its cage, dismally squawking, while its deadly enemy, a -sulphur-crested cockatoo with which it was on most disrespectful terms, -had no spirit left to insult it, but drooped on its perch. The ship -seemed dead; none of the usual cheery bustle was going on, since all -possible tasks were discontinued to leave the crew free to watch. Weary -watching it was, straining overside in dread of seeing a dark hull loom -out of the fog, knowing that it would then, in all probability, be too -late to avert disaster. - -A monotonous voice led them to the side of the ship. A sailor was -standing on a tiny platform over the rail, secured by a leather band -round his body. He leaned well out, heaving the lead with a practised -hand, his voice chanting the depth tonelessly—“By the deep—by the -mark!” Seen in the mist that clung in beads to his blue guernsey and -tarry trousers he seemed unnaturally large—and the dreary call was more -depressing than the ceaseless hoot of the fog-horn. - -They gave up the deck at last, and went below, where the passengers were -gathered in the lounges and smoking-rooms, trying to make the best of -the weary day. The fog was everywhere; it crept through every open -doorway and port-hole, and filled cabins and alleyways, so that jocund -humourists went along hooting, for fear of being run down. Every -electric light was on, as though it were midnight; they gleamed through -the hanging mist, globes of dingy yellow. Babies howled dismally—sleepy -and heavy, but kept awake by the incessant fog-horn; their mothers, pale -and anxious, tried vainly to soothe them. Norah secured her own especial -baby, bore him off to her cabin, and tucked him under her grey ’possum -rug; and then, to her own immense surprise, fell asleep beside him, and -slumbered peacefully until the luncheon gong came into competition with -the siren, and the baby woke and demanded nourishment. - -There was no sign of the fog lifting. They lunched in silence; -conversation was impossible, and the stewards, flitting about in the -misty gloom, spoke in sepulchral whispers. No officers were visible; the -empty chairs at each table bore mute witness to the urgency of their -watch. The doctor made a valiant effort to maintain cheerfulness, and -succeeded in dispelling a fraction of the depression in his particular -corner. But even the doctor was incapable of spreading himself over an -entire saloon, and his efforts to be, as he pathetically said, a -sunbeam, were local and not general. Nobody seemed happy, and the meal -was finished in half the usual time. - -Afterwards, the doctor bore down upon the Billabong party, his face full -of determination. - -“This won’t do,” he said. “I shall have all the ladies on board -developing nerves. You youngsters must come and help me—get Grantham -and West and that long New South Wales fellow, and we’ll start some sort -of a game in the lounge. The fog is thicker than ever, and the only -thing we can do is to make people forget it.” - -“Right-oh, doctor!” Wally answered. “It would be easier to forget it, if -we weren’t eating it all the time—but we’ll do our best.” So they -organised an uproarious game that gathered in every one, even to the -mothers and the babies; and by working the piano to its utmost, -succeeded in supplanting for a time the incessant shriek of fog-horns. -Tea found a ship’s company considerably cheered, and with more appetite. - -“It’s wearing, but it pays,” said the doctor, cheerfully. “You’ve all -helped me nobly, and next time I have to organise a band of sunbeams, -may you all be shining lights in it! There’s a vein of pure idiocy in -Wally that I appreciate most highly.” - -“I’m overcome,” said Wally, bowing. - -“Don’t mention it,” said the doctor, affably. “True merit ought always -to be acknowledged. No, I think you’re all dismissed from duty now; the -mothers will be thinking of bathing the babies, and most of the others -are exhausted—and small wonder. I’m thinking of going to sleep myself; -the noise kept me awake last night.” - -“Let’s go up on deck,” Norah said. “I’m tired of being shut up, -below—and it’s almost as foggy here as anywhere. The ship is full of -fog.” - -On deck the white curtain seemed more impenetrable than ever. Everything -was dripping wet, with an unclean clamminess far worse than honest rain. -All round them came the wailing of fog-horns from invisible ships; -sometimes the sound came from far off, approached gradually, and then -went by them in the mist—unseen. Most of the ships were drifting, no -faster than the _Perseus_; but evidently some captains had kept the -engines going, in the hope of steaming slowly out of the fog. - -“Beastly dangerous,” John West said. “It would be the easiest thing in -the world to pile up a ship on this coast—apart from the chance of -collision. It is far too near the shore to take chances. We are not five -miles out.” - -A siren sounded directly ahead: a long, half-heard note at first, and -then a quickly-increasing sound; and suddenly the fog-horn of the -_Perseus_ broke out in a wild, continual clamour, incessant and urgent. -Passengers rushed up on deck. The other ship was drawing nearer and -nearer; so far as sound could testify, she was directly in a line with -the _Perseus_. They heard quick voices on the bridge. From the bow came -long shouts of warning. - -Norah gripped the rail, feeling her father’s arm come round her in the -gloom. Jim came up on the other side, watching keenly, his face lined -and anxious. Ordinary danger was one thing; this creeping horror, coming -relentlessly out of the unseen, was another matter. - -Then the white wall of mist wavered and parted slowly, a dark shape -loomed high, and almost upon them they saw a great ship. She was so near -that they could see the strained faces on her decks. Her fog-horn was -answering the _Perseus_ in a very frenzy of alarm—and suddenly the -_Perseus_ was silent, as if realising the uselessness of warning now. On -she came, slowly, slowly; it seemed that by no possibility could she -avoid crashing into the huge, helpless liner. They were almost touching; -people on both ships held their breath, waiting dumbly for the end. - -Then the great black bow edged off as if by magic, and the ship slid -past them, only a few yards away. Slowly as she had come, her passing -was slower yet; it seemed hours that she was beside them, almost -touching, with the risk of her stern swinging to crash into the -_Perseus_. But no crash came. The fog took her and swallowed her up as -mysteriously as she had come. - -“Phew-w!” whistled Grantham. “I don’t want anything nearer than that!” - -Norah was shaking a little. A lady passenger further up the deck was -indulging in mild hysterics, to the indignation of the doctor and her -husband’s deep shame. The fog-horn broke out again in the long -monotonous wail, at half-minute intervals, that had gone on all day. - -They sat on deck, wrapped in rugs, watching. No one wanted to go -down—bad enough in the open, it was better to be there, and to see as -much as could be seen. Now and then a little breeze came, and the wall -of mist parted ever so little, blowing away in trails like white -chiffon; and once, in one of these moments, they caught a glimpse of a -sailing ship, drifting by, with bare, gaunt masts. The fog closed round -her again, blotting her out utterly. - -Then, towards evening, there came a quick succession of sharp hoots, -unlike anything they had heard; and a motor-launch came into view and -darted alongside, under the bridge. A man in blue uniform shouted swift -questions. - -“I’ll bring you a tug!” he cried, at last. - -They disappeared again, and the delay that followed seemed intolerably -long. Then the launch hooted its way back, followed by a bluff shape -that resolved itself into a steam-tug. She hung about just ahead. The -_Perseus_ came slowly to life; the screw throbbed slowly. They began to -crawl through the water after the tug. Once she disappeared, running on -a little too quickly—and the great liner began to hoot anxiously, like -a frightened child crying for its nurse, until the tug came back. So -they crawled together through the clinging mist-curtain until dun lights -showed ahead, and voices from the shore came to their ears. - -“That’s the wharf at Cape Town,” said the doctor. “You have to take it -on trust. Why, the fog is thicker here than out at sea!” - -They crept in slowly. Passing a ship already docked, they had a weird -impression of her, apparently hanging in the air—a grotesque ghost of a -ship, the surrounding mist like the vague halo that sometimes shows -round the moon. She was only a dim wraith, her powerful electric lights -glimmering like smoky lamps, although they were within biscuit-throw of -her. Even when alongside the wharf they could not see the people waiting -ashore; voices came up to them clearly, but it was impossible to see to -whom they belonged. So, like an exceedingly helpless invalid, the -_Perseus_ came into port. - -“Eight o’clock,” said Mr. Linton, consulting his watch. “H’m; we’ve sat -in that old fog for eighteen solid hours.” - -“Isn’t it a relief not to hear the fog-horns?” Norah said. “Daddy, are -we going ashore?” - -“I don’t know,” hesitated her father. “It hardly seems worth while -to-night.” - -Jim, who had been away, returned quickly. - -“I’ve seen the second officer,” he said. “It’s awfully unsatisfactory. -Orders are to leave here at daylight, or as near it as can be managed, -and they’re going to work cargo all night. Poor beggars! they’ve all -been on duty for eighteen hours at least—and the captain has never been -off the bridge during the time.” - -“Poor fellows!” Norah said. “I think, too, it’s poor us! Then we won’t -see Cape Town at all?” - -“MacTavish advises us to go ashore,” Jim answered. “He says that the fog -may not be so bad in the city itself—it’s some distance away—and that -if we take the mountain tram ride we’ll probably get right above it. In -any case, the ship will be unbearably noisy, as they have to handle -cargo.” - -“Then we may as well go,” declared Mr. Linton; and Norah fled -delightedly to get ready. - -They stumbled through the fog across confused yards and round dim -buildings, and presently found a train waiting in a casual fashion by a -platform which appeared to be part of the street. They climbed in, and -the train woke up hastily and decided to go, as if encouraged by their -arrival. Its progress, however, was less hasty than its departure. The -fog impeded it, and it crept towards the city with a shrieking of the -engine, a grinding of brakes, and a rattling of the carriages, which -made the _Perseus_ seem luxuriously peaceful by comparison. - -“We’ll drive back,” said Mr. Linton tersely. - -The fog was much lighter in the town itself. Passers-by in the street -were heard grumbling at it—but to the mist-sodden seafarers who had -wallowed in its heart for eighteen hours, it seemed only an echo of a -fog. The streets were bright, well-lit, and crowded. Natives were not so -frequent as in Durban, and there was a general air of prosperity. Wally -exhibited signs of alarm at the spectacle of more than one top-hat. - -“I suppose we’ll have to get used to them in England,” he said, -dismally. “I feel in my bones, Jim, that I’ll see you in one yet!” - -“Me!” said Jim. “I’ll have to turn undertaker first!” - -A friendly policeman directed them to their tram, and soon they were -rattling along quiet suburban streets, where the fog was thicker than in -the city—or where there were fewer electric lights to dispel its gloom. -The suburbs, however, did not last long; they emerged from brick and -mortar regions into open bush country, and began to climb into what -seemed the heart of the mountains. - -They climbed from mist into light. As the tram wormed its way higher and -higher, they left the fog below them—looking back, they could see it -lying in a dense bank, blotting out the city. But the travellers came -out above it, and into the pure radiance of a perfect moon, that sailed -in a clear sky of deep blue, dotted with innumerable stars. The moon was -full, and her light, in the clear mountain air, was almost dazzling. It -showed them the sinuous tramway track, curving away into the heart of -the bush, which stretched on either side, dark and fragrant; it lit up -deep glens and clefts, and high peaks that towered overhead—the “Twelve -Apostles,” Signal Hill, the Lion’s Head—all black and rugged against -the perfect blue of the sky. - -Sometimes a wind blew up strongly as they climbed, bringing with it -masses of fog from below, which surged lovingly round the tall peaks, -rested upon them, and often drew a soft veil over them, hiding them -altogether; and then it surged again, and was tossed up in masses like -breaking waves, until it fled altogether, dropping back into the -valleys, and leaving the peaks clear. The bush on either side grew more -and more dense, and mingled with the rugged crags into a scene of -extraordinary wildness. It was impossible to imagine that they were near -a great city—not in the heart of the Africa that held “King Solomon’s -Mines.” Were not these, indeed, the “Mountains of the Moon”? - -Nobody spoke much, for, indeed, the wonder of the journey took away -speech, even from the boys. But just as they were turning back towards -civilisation a thick veil of mist hovered over the edge of Table -Mountain, standing clear-cut against the blue and silver sky—and then -settled upon it and draped it, hanging in uneven folds of purest white. - -“There!” said David Linton. “You’ve seen the famous ‘Table-cloth’ come -down on Table Mountain!” - -Norah leaned against him, putting her hand in his. - -They ran down to the city—found a restaurant where coffee was still -obtainable, and then a motor that hurried them smoothly back to the -ship. The fog was still heavy at the wharf. The _Perseus_ was noisy with -the clamour of cargo-machinery and shouting men, and the decks hummed -with hawkers, chaffering over ostrich feathers and native karosses and -curios. There was little sleep for anyone on board. - -Very early next morning they were off. The fog hung densely over the -city. The tug took them out through the dim harbour, and beyond to the -open sea—and about twenty miles out they suddenly ran out of the -fog-belt into sunlight, and blue sea and sky, all sparkling to greet -them. - -The captain, heavy-eyed after his long vigil, paused beside Norah’s -deck-chair. - -“Well, Miss Norah—you evidently weren’t meant to see the beauties of -Cape Town!” - -“I don’t know,” said Norah, soberly. “I think I had the best view of -all. And it was worth the fog!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - - WAR! - -THE passengers of the good ship _Perseus_ were holding what they bravely -called a gymkhana. Their numbers had been slightly reinforced in South -Africa; some people had left the ship, but those who had joined had -brought the total to nearly forty. The newcomers included two or three -cheerful girls, and some energetic young Englishmen, who declared -frankly that they found the ship far too quiet, and entered with vigour -in the process of waking things up. They organised dances in the -moonlight, to the strains of the captain’s gramophone; concerts, at -which most people performed extremely badly, amidst the enthusiastic -plaudits of the audience; and finally a sports committee, which drew up -an ambitious programme of deck-game competitions, to culminate in a -“special-event” day. No one was allowed to stand out. The quiet ones -grumbled and fled to the sanctity of the boat-deck—where no games were -permitted—in the intervals of making themselves look more or less -foolish at deck billiards or bull-board. The younger members grew -enthusiastic by force of example, and things went merrily enough until -the day of the final display. - -The officers—especially the captain and the doctor—looked with -approval on the new activity. At all times the journey up the West Coast -of Africa is dull and long. No ports are touched at between Cape Town -and Las Palmas; and it was quite possible that even the latter would be -forbidden the _Perseus_ by wireless orders by the time she arrived at -the Canary Islands, since German ships were known to be active in the -neighbourhood. The long and dreary stretch included the crossing of the -Equator, and a spell of tropical heat which, if not so bad as the Red -Sea, was apt to be sufficiently trying under ordinary circumstances, but -ten times more so when complicated by the lack of fresh air entailed by -war precautions. Therefore the Captain, keeping a silent watch on his -passengers’ nerves, and the doctor, directing his guardianship more -particularly to their livers, smiled on the games, and incited them to -antics yet more enlivening. - -War seemed very far away. The first few days out from Cape Town had been -hard to bear in their complete isolation from news—especially as Cape -Town had provided an assortment of rumours, principally unconfirmed, -which gave unlimited food for tantalising speculation. But gradually war -talk slackened for lack of any food, and people agreed that it was -really more practical to be as busy as possible, and wait as patiently -as might be for definite news at Las Palmas. What risk there was, was -accepted as part of the general routine; to speculate on it was useless, -to worry about it as practical as worrying over a possible earthquake or -cyclone. Any smoke on the horizon might be a German man-of-war; it might -also be a peaceful British tramp steamer, jogging down to Australia. But -they were far off their course, and scarcely a sign of a ship had been -seen since leaving Africa—two or three dark smoke smudges many miles -off, a timber ship which went close by them, and once a collier, with a -couple of lighters in tow: useful black slaves, the captain said, -waiting to coal British cruisers. All the coast was well patrolled by -the Allies’ ships; they kept out of sight, but sometimes the wireless -operator, listening at his own silent instrument, heard their code -signals, comfortably close at hand. - -The gymkhana was more remarkable for energy than for any special skill. -It drew a crowded house, most of the audience being required from time -to time as performers—a circumstance that is apt to restrain criticism, -since critics can be really untrammelled only when pleasantly certain of -not having to face the limelight themselves. There had been potato-races -and obstacle-races; they had chalked the pig’s eye—a competition won -gloriously by Mr. Linton, who had at least succeeded in placing the eye -in the porker’s snout, whereas no other blindfolded competitor had gone -nearer than his hind leg. Gentlemen in sacks had run, and tripped, and -fallen, and writhed helplessly, amid unfeeling laughter; ladies had -driven blindfolded gentlemen between zig-zag rows of bottles, with the -customary results to the bottles; other gentlemen, greatly daring, had -raced for parcels of feminine attire, and, donning it in a manner highly -unscientific and interesting, had held it about them miserably, and fled -for home. There had been races in pairs, wherein ladies had to tie their -partners’ neckties and light their cigarettes; blindfolded fighting; -egg-and-spoon scurries—in short, all the paraphernalia of what the -natives of India call a “pagal” gymkhana—pronouncing the adjective -“poggle” and signifying by it a revel of much buffoonery. - -It was nearing tea-time when the competitors took their places for the -last event, which the doctor, much overheated by his exertions as -umpire, called a concession to the fine arts. Music was its basis, and -it was run in pairs—the lady sitting meekly on a camp-stool while her -partner raced to her, and whistled in her ear a tune which it was her -part to recognise. This done, she wrote down the name and handed the -document to the whistler, who turned and raced back with it. It was a -competition in which musical ability was less likely to score than an -ample supply of breath and fleetness of foot. - -Norah and Wally were paired together, their most dangerous opponents -being Mr. Grantham and a cheery Cape Town damsel whose acquaintance with -rag-time airs was little short of the black art. Jim and his partner had -survived one heat, but had gone down in the second—owing to the lady’s -insisting that “Pop Goes the Weasel” was “God Save the King.” Jim had -liked his partner, and his faith in human nature was shaken. He exhorted -Norah to “show more sense,” and took his place by the rail to cheer her -and Wally on to great deeds. - -There were three couples, their male halves being somewhat equally -matched in speed. Norah braced herself to her task as they tore down the -deck to the waiting ladies on the camp-stools—feeling in her heart that -she would much rather race than wait. There was too much responsibility -about the feminine part of the business—since no man would ever admit -that he had failed to whistle correctly. The flying figures arrived, -pell-mell—she lent an anxious ear to Wally’s musical efforts, -thankfully recognised “Tit Willow,” and saw him turn to race away, at -the same moment that Grantham received his document and started home. - -“What tune did you hear?” she asked Edith Agnew, the Cape Town girl. - -“Oh, an easy one—‘Tipperary.’ But isn’t it hard to hear!—they puff and -pant, and every one laughs, and the sea is noisy—and altogether it’s -enough to make Wagner sound like a musical comedy! And they look so -funny I can only laugh, instead of writing. Look—it’s a dead heat, I -believe!” - -It was—Grantham and Wally breasted the tape together, and returned -presently, somewhat crestfallen. - -“We’re awfully puffed, but it’s the last thing on the programme—we -might as well run it off,” Grantham declared. “You don’t mind, Wally?” - -“Not a bit—my cheerful lay is naturally so unintelligible that a little -puffing can’t hurt it much,” Wally laughed. “Come on—ready, Norah?” - -They went back to the starting-point and received the umpire’s -instructions; then came flying down the deck. Norah struggled hard to -recognise a tune that sounded like no melody she had ever heard, partly -because it would persist in mingling with the one which Grantham was -whistling desperately to Miss Agnew. Wally came to the end of the verse, -and began again, breathlessly. Light dawned on Norah in a flash. - -“Oh—I am stupid!” she uttered, grasping her pencil and scribbling -“Bonnie Dundee” wildly. A half-second earlier Miss Agnew gave vent to a -shriek of intelligence, and wielded a distraught pencil. It was almost a -neck-and-neck race—but Grantham was a nose ahead. - -“You’ve won!” said Norah, laughing. “Well done!” They shook hands -cheerfully; to stare in surprise, a moment later, when the doctor picked -up his megaphone and announced in stentorian tones that the winners were -Miss Linton and Mr. Meadows. - -“But how?” queried Norah. All the spectators had left their places—they -were the centre of a laughing group. Wally arrived, triumphant, and -pumped her hand anew. - -“That was my telegraphic partner!” laughed Grantham, in mock wrath. “I -whistled ‘Rule Britannia’ like a nightingale, and all she wrote was -this.” He held out a crumpled scrap of paper with “Brit” inscribed on it -in hieroglyphic letters. “Naturally, the umpire wouldn’t accept it—so -they disqualified me.” - -“I’m awfully sorry!” Miss Agnew laughed. “I was overcome—and you -whistled so very badly—and I was sure Wally meant to start.” She tilted -a pretty nose. “I’m sure ‘Brit’ is good enough for that old tune, -anyway.” - -Jim Linton swung round suddenly. - -“Is that the wireless?” - -From overhead, as every merry voice hushed to silence, broke out the -crisp, familiar crackle—the wireless, spitting its message over the -sea. No one moved for a moment. Then came another sound—a long, heavy -“Boom-m!” that ran echoing round the horizon. Women screamed, and ran -for their babies. Men looked at each other dumbly. The quick spitting of -the wireless went on—a tiny sound, following the crashing “Boom,” but -even more full of meaning. - -“Boom-m-m!” Another heavy crash; and the spell that had fallen on the -laughing group of passengers broke suddenly, and there was a stampede -round to the starboard side of the ship. Norah, running, found Jim’s -hand on her shoulder. - -“Steady, kiddie—keep back till we know what it is.” - -“I can’t, Jim!” - -“Yes, you can—keep Dad back. Wally and I will find out.” - -“Boom-m-m! Boom-m-m! Boom-m-m!” - -Ahead of the _Perseus_ something struck the water heavily, and almost -simultaneously great splashes like waterspouts shot up a ship’s length -away. Turning the corner of the deck, carried along by the crowd, Norah -saw a grey ship lying not far off, so close that she could see the evil -mouths of the guns that looked out from her side. Flame and smoke sprang -from them as she stopped, breathless. Again the long crash echoed, and -water shot into the air from three great splashes near the big liner. - -“Good heavens—they’re shelling us!” a man exclaimed. - -The passengers huddled together like frightened sheep, uncertain what to -do. There had been no signal for boat-drill, and no officer was visible, -except upon the bridge. The crackling of the wireless had stopped—and -suddenly they saw the Marconi operator spring up the bridge-ladder. - -The doctor took swift command. - -“Every one muster on the port side!” he shouted. “No need to risk flying -splinters here!” - -He hustled the women before him, back to the side from which they had -come. A few children were crying pitifully; but there was no disorder, -and the women obeyed quietly, those who had no children turning to help -the mothers. Stewards appeared, and the doctor sent them through the -ship to collect stragglers; the stewardesses came up and took their -places quietly. - -From the bridge, the second officer came hurrying down. He joined the -doctor. - -“There’s no danger,” he said, so that every one could hear. “They put -those shells across our bows to stop us using the wireless—but Grey got -a certain amount away first. Then they signalled that they’d sink us if -we sent any more; so naturally, we didn’t.” - -“What happens now?” - -“Their orders are, to follow them at full speed. I don’t know what they -mean to do—but the Captain says that every one is to prepare to leave -the ship. It may or may not be a case of taking to the boats; they are -being got ready now. Not much luggage can be taken, but every one must -bring all available rugs and wraps; the nights are cold. Be ready to -obey the boat-drill signal.” - -Mr. Linton’s party had prepared for such emergency early in the voyage; -it was only a few minutes before they were ready, suit-cases locked and -wraps rolled up. Jim came to carry up Norah’s belongings to the deck. -She cast a wistful look round the cabin. It had grown very homelike, and -the familiar photographs of Billabong and Bosun and her school chums -looked curiously out of place and forlorn amidst this sudden realisation -of war. She shut the door upon them with a little sigh. - -On deck everything was as usual, save that sailors were working busily -at the boats, provisioning them, and getting them in readiness to swing -out from the davits. The horizon was empty of ships; only ahead of them -steamed the grey German warship, her smoke making dark plumes across the -sky. The _Perseus_ followed meekly. Norah could see the captain on the -bridge—and a great throb of pity for him surged up within her. - -“He’s so responsible!” she said. “And he has such a lovely ship. It must -be dreadful to think of losing her.” - -She looked up and down the long lines of the deck; at the towering mass -of the funnel overhead. It seemed incredible that so great a ship was -presently to be sunk; as easily might one believe that any splendid -cathedral could disappear suddenly into the ground. For weeks they had -lived on the _Perseus_, until she had grown like a second home to them, -as fixed and stable a thing as any hotel. Now she was doomed; they would -fire shells or torpedoes at her, and she would suddenly vanish, never to -be heard of again. The blue sea would ripple gaily over the place where -she lay—the sea on which she had ridden in splendour. It was too -horrible to believe. - -Norah looked up at the bridge again, and saw Captain Garth’s set face. -He was gazing downwards at his ship. When his eyes met hers he smiled -and waved his hand slightly, and though Norah greatly despised tears, -she felt a hot lump in her throat and turned away to the rail, blinking -very hard. If it were dreadful for her to think of the great “crack” -liner going down, what must it be for the man whose pride and -responsibility she was? - -They stood in a little knot on the deck, watching. Both ships were going -at full speed; but presently a line of flags fluttered out on the German -ship, they heard the sound of the engine-room telegraph ringing from the -bridge, and the throbbing of the machinery of the _Perseus_ stopped -suddenly. The German turned, steaming down upon them. A little way off, -the warship hove to and lowered a boat, containing two officers as well -as the crew. The _Perseus_ swung out a gangway to meet it. - -The boat shot across the narrow strip of sea intervening between the two -vessels. The crew were stolid men, with heavy faces; they paid no -attention to the jeers or the questions of the crew of the _Perseus_ as -they rocked on the lazy swell beside her. Their officers sprang quickly -up the gangway, keen-looking men, very trim and alert. They cast a quick -glance over the passengers, and disappeared up the bridge ladder. - -“Overhauling the ship’s papers,” the doctor said. - -“Well, they can’t sink us while these men are on board!” remarked an old -lady, comfortably. She took out her knitting—a khaki muffler—and began -to work. “I do so like the German method of knitting—and now I feel it -my duty to use the English fashion. It’s so annoying!” she confided to -Norah. Her needles clicked busily. - -Presently the two German officers came down the ladder, followed by -Captain Garth. They went to the Marconi-room, where the young sentry -stood his ground for a moment, ludicrously undecided, changing to -immense relief as the captain waved him aside with a curt nod. There -came sounds of altercation in the Marconi-room—and the young operator, -Grey, came out with a thunderous face and joined the passengers. - -“Brutes!” he said, explosively. “They’ve dismantled the apparatus and -kicked me out—one of the great beasts threatened me with a revolver. -Wish I’d had one myself!” - -“A jolly good thing you hadn’t, young man, if that’s how you feel about -it!” remarked the doctor. - -There was a wretched feeling of helplessness over every one. To make -short work of the two strange men would have been so easy; to think of -doing it so futile, with the grey warship lying near, her guns trained -on the _Perseus_. They waited as patiently as they might until the -officers reappeared; and presently a message came to them to muster on -the boat deck. - -They faced the Germans somewhat defiantly, the most placid of the -company being the old lady with the muffler, who knitted serenely, after -casting one glance of withering comprehensiveness at their captors. The -Germans held the passenger-list, and ran over it quickly. They spoke -English without difficulty, and with scarcely any accent. - -“There is one name not present,” the senior said; “Henry Smith, booked -for London. Where is he?” - -“In his cabin,” Captain Garth answered curtly, - -“Is he ill?” - -“No. He is a prisoner.” - -“So?” said the German, his eye lighting with interest. “You will have -him brought here.” He talked to his companion in their own language -while the captain gave the necessary orders. - -There was a little buzz among the passengers. Many of them had not heard -of Mr. Smith; those who had done so had acquired a vague idea that he -had left the ship at Durban. Now, as he came up the deck between two -stewards, every one craned forward to see him. He was pale and rather -thin, and the glance he cast upon Jim and Wally was scarcely one of -affection. Then he broke into a wide smile at the sight of the familiar -uniform, and uttered a quick German greeting. - -The two officers showed some astonishment, which was merged in -sympathetic interest as Mr. Smith uttered floods of Teutonic eloquence. -Once they glanced keenly at the two boys—and Jim felt a thrill of -thankfulness that Norah’s part in the discovery of the spy had not been -revealed to Mr. Smith, who had evidently devoted his leisure in his -cabin to the solace of bearing malice. Finally the senior officer turned -to Captain Garth. - -“Herr Schmidt will return with us,” he said. “Later, we shall require as -prisoners these two lads, the officer Dixon, and those of the passengers -who are military officers. Meanwhile you will have boats and passengers -ready, and prepare to leave the ship at daylight, on receipt of further -signals. Until then you will follow us. You will show no lights -whatever, and should you attempt to signal, we will sink you without -further notice. We will now inspect the crew—the passengers are -dismissed.” - -David Linton stepped forward. - -“You cannot mean to take my son and his friend prisoners, sir,” he said. -“They are only boys.” - -“Only boys!” said the German, curtly. “Boys of their age and physique -are with the colours in our army to-day. But for their attack on Herr -Schmidt——” - -Mr. Smith shot a rapid sentence at his countrymen. The officer laughed -unpleasantly. - -“So?—going home to the army, are they? They will certainly be better -out of the way, then. That will do, sir—you will only earn them -increased severity.” And Mr. Linton, certain in his angry bewilderment -of only one thing—that he had made matters worse—found himself -dismissed, with a finality that forbade another word. - -On the lower deck the Billabong quartet faced each other, at first -dumbly. - -“Cheer up,” Jim said, at last, with an effort. “It’s hard luck, of -course, but they aren’t likely to do anything beyond imprisoning us. -Bother old Smith!” - -“I wish to goodness we’d left him alone!” said Norah, miserably. - -“No, you don’t—and we don’t,” was Jim’s sturdy answer. “I’ll always be -glad we stopped his little game—at any rate we’ll have had that little -scrap of the war! And we may escape—you never can tell—and come -careering over to London to find you. It will be all experience, as you -used to say!” - -Norah shivered. She had never thought that the “experience” of which -they used to talk so light-heartedly would mean this. - -“I wouldn’t mind so much, to know you were really in Germany,” Mr. -Linton said. “But to be on that abominable ship——!” He shot an angry, -anxious glance at the grey cruiser. Too well he knew her destiny—to -prowl the sea, a pirate in all but name, harassing British shipping -until she herself was sunk. There would be no getting back to Germany -for her—and no consideration for British prisoners on board of her when -the inevitable end came. He looked at the two boyish faces, his heart -full of blank despair. - -Wally glanced over the rail. The German boat was returning to the -warship. Mr. Smith sat in the stern with the two officers—a podgy -embodiment of triumph. - -“Well, the laugh may be on our side,” he said, cheerfully. “Anyhow, we -needn’t pull long faces over it; I’m hoping for another chance to get -even with old Smithy. Don’t you worry, sir—I’ll look after little Jimmy -for you!” - -Jim grinned down on him affectionately. But to David Linton came -memories of Edward Meadows’ anxious face—of his last request, to look -after the little brother who was “such a kid.” - -“I’ll work every means in my power to get you both back,” he said, -huskily. “Meanwhile, I can give you plenty of money; and I know you will -both try to keep on good terms with them; you’ll be better treated if -you do. The German sailors do seem disposed to behave as decently as -possible.” - -“There are other people a long way worse off than we are,” Jim said. -“Dixon’s married, I know; he has a wife and kiddie in Glasgow. And Major -Edwards and Captain Field have got to leave their wives on the -_Perseus_—my aunt, isn’t it rough on poor little Mrs. Field, with that -troublesome baby!” - -Norah jumped. - -“That’s my pet baby!” she said. “I’ll go and see if I can take him for a -while.” - -She fled to the Fields’ cabin. Captain Field, a tall, delicate man with -quiet ways that Norah liked, was sitting on the couch, his arm round his -wife. The baby was howling dismally, as if he understood. Mrs. Field, -white and tearless, was trying vainly to rock him to sleep. - -“I’ll take him, Mrs. Field,” Norah said breathlessly. “He’ll be quite -all right—don’t you worry.” - -Mrs. Field protested feebly. - -“You want to be with your boys yourself,” she said. “He will go to sleep -presently.” - -“He’ll be much happier on deck,” Norah said. She grasped the baby’s -outdoor attire in one hand, tucked him under the other arm, and fled. -The boys and her father had established themselves in a corner of the -deck-lounge; and there the baby sat on a table and played with Jim’s -keys, and became extraordinarily cheerful and contented. Somehow, he -helped them all. - -“The nicest yearling I ever saw!” said Jim, when at last it grew dusk. -He rose, giving the baby one finger, on which he fastened with interest, -evidently regarding it as edible. “No, you don’t, young man; I’ve got to -go and put my things together; it’s time we did it, Wal. You’ll come, -too, dad?” - -David Linton nodded. - -“I’ll go and tub the baby,” Norah said. - -She bathed him in one of the big bathrooms, to his great amazement and -delight; and then, wrapping him in a big, soft bath-towel until he -looked like a hilarious chrysalis, she took him back to his mother. Mrs. -Field looked better when she opened the door to receive the -sweet-smelling bundle. - -“You’ve bathed him?—oh, Norah, you dear!” - -“He was so good,” said Norah. “Of course, he hasn’t his nightie on, Mrs. -Field.” - -“I must dress him altogether,” the poor little wife said. “You know we -have to take to the boats at daylight.” - -“Yes, of course,” Norah said. “Oh, and Dad said I was to tell you, -Captain Field, that he has made arrangements for Mrs. Field and Tommy to -come in our boat, in—in the boys’ place; and they will be in his -special charge—and Tommy is mine. So you mustn’t worry.” - -“Thanks,” said Captain Field; and could say no more. He put out his, -hand and shook Norah’s very hard. - -Dinner was served as usual, and people tried to eat. The captain came in -late, and made a little speech between the courses. He was immensely -sorry for them all, he told them; it was the fortune of war, and there -was nothing to be said. Everything possible would be done for their care -and safety, and he told them that he did not doubt that they would aid -him in any measures he could take. Breakfast would be served half an -hour before daylight; they would be called in time. He urged them all to -go to bed early and try to get a good night’s rest. The German ship had -just signalled renewed warnings against any lights showing—he wished -them to remember that they were completely in the power of an enemy who -would sink them without hesitation if orders were disobeyed. He thanked -them for their calm behaviour in the afternoon and, in advance, for the -equal calmness he knew he might expect in the morning. “We’re not a -fighting crowd, but we don’t show the white feather!” finished the -captain, abruptly. He gave a jerky little bow and left the saloon. - -“Poor dear young man!” said the old lady who knitted, wiping her eyes. - -There was very little sleep on board the _Perseus_ that night. People -talked together in little groups. All luggage was already stowed in the -boats, and nothing remained to be done. In a corner of the deck the -Billabong family stayed, not talking very much, since there seemed so -little to say, but finding some comfort in nearness to each other. Wally -had written letters to his brothers and given them into Mr. Linton’s -keeping. - -“Norah ought to turn in,” Jim said, at length. “It’s all very well for -us, for we’ll be in some sort of comfort on the German ship. But it -makes me sick to think of you two—in an open boat. You ought to get all -the sleep you can.” - -“Oh, we shall be all right,” his father said. “It’s such calm -weather—and we are no great distance from Teneriffe. We can soon get -into the track of ships, and the chances are that we shall not have to -spend a night in the open.” - -“And if we do, it won’t hurt us,” Norah said. “Don’t you bother about -us, Jimmy.” - -“Well, go to bed, anyhow,” the boy said. “You’re tired as it is. You may -as well feel fit when you leave in the morning.” So Norah went off -obediently; and soon Wally followed her example, leaving Mr. Linton and -his son to pace the deck together for hours—in silence, most of the -time. The ship’s bells had been forbidden, and there was nothing to mark -the passing of the night. The _Perseus_ cut through the dark water, -following her captor, whose grey shape loomed near. Their heavy thoughts -went ahead, picturing the parting that must come with the dawn. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - - WHAT THE MORNING BROUGHT. - -DARKNESS still hung over the sea when the little company on the -_Perseus_ met at breakfast. Most of them were heavy-eyed and pale; but -they made a brave effort at cheerfulness and tried to eat—never had a -meal seemed so unreal and horrible. It was quickly over, and they -trooped on deck. - -Dawn was breaking. The German ship, no longer ahead, but a little to the -starboard, seemed like a grim watch-dog. No signals had come from her as -yet, and the _Perseus_ was still under orders to go at full speed. No -one knew where they were heading—their course had been peremptorily -changed, and the passengers could form no idea of direction. They were -like sheep driven in unfamiliar ways; over them all the sense of utter -helplessness. - -The grey light, creeping over the sea, showed them watching in -groups—with all available wraps on, and rugs in readiness. In a corner -Mrs. Field sat, one hand in her husband’s. He was holding their baby, -his cheek resting against the soft little face. Major Edwards and his -wife walked up and down a lonely deck-space, not speaking. - -An officer made a tour of the ship presently, to see that no passengers -were absent, and that all possible preparations had been made. He knew -nothing, he said; they had kept by the German ship all night. Now they -merely awaited the order to take to the boats; the enemy’s boat would, -of course, come over to secure the prisoners, and probably to sink the -ship by means of explosives placed in her hold, and setting her on fire. -“Cheaper than torpedoes,” said the officer, “and less noisy. They’re -shocking bad shots, too, on those armed merchantmen; and it would take a -heap of shells to sink the old ship, because of her water-tight -compartments. Much easier to blow her up from within.” - -“Wretches!” said the old lady who knitted. She was still busy at her -khaki muffler. - -“It’s war,” said the young officer, hurrying off. On the lower deck the -stewards and crew were mustered, awaiting inspection. After answering to -their names they took their usual boat-stations, without the ordinary -signal. The chief cook was cheery. - -“No luncheon to cook!” quoth he, pleasantly. “And no need to abuse any -one for not having cleared up properly after breakfast! Well, I’ve -always heard that every dog gets a holiday one day in his life; it’s an -ill wind that blows nowhere!” He rallied the butcher on his downcast -mien. - -“Think of all the good meat that’s going to the bottom!” said the -butcher, gloomily. - -“Wot I think is, that I won’t have to ’andle any of it,” said the gay -cook. “Don’t you never get fed-up with the very thought of meat, -butcher? Sometimes I dreams of it all night!” - -“Ijjit!” said the butcher. He withdrew himself, and sat on the edge of a -boat, wrapped in melancholy. - -Slowly, faint streaks of pink showed in the eastern sky, and a pale -flush crept upwards. The sun came out of the sea, as if reluctantly, -unwilling to bring such a bitter morning. - -“They’ll stop us soon, now,” Jim said. “Sure you’ve got all your wraps, -Norah?” He had asked the question three times already, but Norah smiled -up at him. - -“Yes—and my nice old ’possum-rug,” she said. “Won’t it be a comfort in -the boat, Jim?” - -“It ought to help you to get a sleep,” Jim said. “Air-cushions packed? -You’ll have to get Grantham to blow them up for you, since I won’t be -there; he’s in your boat.” - -“I can do them, thanks, Jim,” said Norah quickly. No one else should -touch the cushions he had given her. - -“Old duffer!” said Jim, very low—understanding well. They smiled at -each other. - -“I wish they’d end it,” Major Edwards was saying to his wife. “This -waiting is worse than the actual saying good-bye!” - -“I wonder why they don’t come,” she answered. “They only wanted -daylight, didn’t they? - -“Yes—and the sooner the boats get away, the better, I should imagine,” -he said. They resumed their hard walk, up and down—up and down. - -Overhead, on the bridge, there seemed a mild stir. The captain could be -seen, watching the German ship through his glasses. Then he directed -them to another point of the horizon, astern. Presently he disappeared, -returning almost immediately with a telescope. - -John West came round a corner at full speed. - -“Smoke astern!” - -“What is it?” - -“I don’t know—another catch for the enemy, very likely. What luck for -her if she gets two liners in one day!” - -Everybody rushed to see; and made but little of the smudge of smoke, far -on the horizon. They came back to watch the enemy. Only the Fields had -not moved; Tommy was asleep, his face against his father’s. - -On the German ship things were stirring. They could see hasty movements -of men. Smoke began to pour from her funnels. - -“They’re coming, I expect,” Jim said. He tightened his grip on Norah’s -arm. - -Mr. Dixon left the bridge, and came hurriedly aft. The passengers -flocked round him. - -“There’s a ship in sight,” he said, “and we think she’s a British -cruiser. The enemy evidently think it, and they’re getting up steam.” - -“Not going to stop?” a girl cried wildly. - -“It doesn’t seem like it.” He hesitated. “We trust you to show no panic. -It is quite possible that they may try to sink us without taking off the -passengers—will you all get to your boat-stations quickly and put on -the life-belts the stewards will serve out?” - -There were white faces, but no panic. Men and women trooped to their -stations, the former stooping to pick up children, and taking babies -from their mother’s arms—arms that took them back hungrily as soon as -the life-belts were adjusted. The boats were swung outward from the -davits, their crews in their places; and for a few minutes a very agony -of suspense held the ship silent. Every eye was glued to the German -ship. People held their breath, watching the guns—each moment expecting -a flash and an explosion. - -A line of flags fluttered into place on the enemy’s rigging, and -simultaneously the passengers glanced up at the bridge of the _Perseus_, -where alone the message could be understood. They saw Captain Garth put -his glasses down hurriedly and grip Mr. Dixon’s hand. Then he caught up -a megaphone and turned to them, speaking through it. - -“The enemy is leaving us,” came the shout. “They signal, ‘We will not -destroy your ship on account of the women and children on board. You are -dismissed. Good-bye.’” - -A burst of cheering broke from the passengers. One girl fainted; men -turned and wrung each other’s hands. Captain and Mrs. Field did not stir -for a moment; then they rose, moved by the same instinct, and -disappeared within the ship. Mrs. Field staggered as they went and her -husband’s free arm caught her to him. Tommy had never stirred—his -little face lay against his father’s cheek. - -David Linton put his hand on his boy’s shoulder, speechless. Norah had -laid her head on the rail, and her shoulders were shaking. Wally patted -them hard. - -“Buck up, old girl!” he said. - -Flags had shot up on the _Perseus_, in courteous answer to the Germans. -Mr. Dixon, appearing, was overwhelmed with congratulations and -questions. - -“It’s a British cruiser, right enough, and our friend the enemy has got -to show a clean pair of heels,” he said. “We’re only keeping her -back—her speed is knots ahead of ours. We’ll know more when we get the -wireless going again—Grey is hard at work on the spare outfit already. -We’ll hold on as we are for the present, to give the British ship any -information we can.” - -“There is no further danger?” queried the old lady with the khaki -muffler. - -“No, ma’am—none at all, that I know of.” - -“What a good thing!” said she, placidly. She knitted on, without any -pause. - -“The captain sends you all his thanks,” Dixon continued, gazing at her -in bewilderment and awe. “He says you can shed life-belts and, as the -Germans put it, dismiss—it’s ‘as you were,’ in fact. There will be -another breakfast in an hour’s time—I don’t fancy any one ate much of -the first one. We’ll let you know any news we can,” and he hurried back -to the bridge. - -Already the German ship had forged far ahead of the _Perseus_. - -“Aren’t her stokers having a time!” uttered Wally, as the smoke poured -from her. “It’s going to take her all she knows to get away from that -cruiser of ours.” He was unfastening Norah’s life-belt as he spoke, -while Jim removed Mr. Linton’s. “Are you all right, Nor?” - -“Oh, yes,” said Norah, turning a strained, white face. She looked up at -Jim, and met his eyes, smiling at her. “It’s—it’s a bit of relief, -isn’t it?” - -Every one was trying to speak calmly, although, now that the long -tension had been so suddenly relaxed, there was more appearance of -emotion than in the moment of greatest danger. Two or three women had -become hysterical, and the stewardesses and doctor were busy reducing -them to common-sense. Mrs. Edwards had not spoken at all since the -megaphone had cried their reprieve from the bridge. She rose after -awhile and slipped away. - -The British cruiser was coming up astern, at full speed. Already they -could see the grey hull, business-like and determined. - -“I expect we’ll signal to her as soon as the enemy is a bit further -away,” Jim said. “I hope to goodness we’re going to see the fight!” - -“Will there be a fight?” Norah asked, excitedly. - -“Why I should think so. She isn’t out for her health,” Jim answered. “It -will be a heartsome sight if she sinks the German, won’t it—and great -Scott, how annoying it will be for Mr. Smith!” - -“Whew-w!” Wally whistled. “I clean forgot our friend Smithy!” - -“I doubt if he’s as happy now as he was on the _Perseus_,” said Jim, -laughing. “That British ship is a flyer and no mistake. Nor, old girl, -why don’t you go and get out of six or eight of those coats before the -fun begins? You can’t wear them all day.” - -“No, nor this hat,” said Norah, who was dressed for emergencies. “I’ll -hurry back.” - -Her way to her cabin led her past the Edwards’ and she glanced in, at -the sound of sobbing. Mrs. Edwards, who had no children, had borrowed -little Tommy Field. She was kneeling before the couch on which she had -placed him, her face buried in his frock, her whole frame shaking with -sobs. Tommy regarded her doubtfully—and then, finding her hair soft -under his little hands, began gleefully to pull it down, gurgling with -joy. Mrs. Edwards did not seem to notice—even though they hurt her; it -may be that she found a comfort in the touch of the little hands. At the -sight, Norah suddenly found that she, too, was sobbing. She ran on into -her cabin. - -When she passed, a little later, on her way back, she heard the murmur -of voices, and saw Major Edwards bending over his wife. Somehow Norah -knew that she was better, though she went by quickly, averting her eyes. -Dimly within her, though she had not learned to put the thought into -words, Norah knew that the world holds few women whom a baby cannot -help—even a borrowed baby. - -“Norah! Norah! Hurry up!” - -Jim’s voice came ringing down the alleyways. - -“I’m coming!” Norah shouted, beginning to run. “What’s the matter? -Anything wrong?” - -“No—only the British ship is coming up hand over fist, and signalling -like mad. And the German is just tearing away, but I don’t believe she -can do it.” Jim’s face was flushed and his eyes dancing. “Losh, but I -wish I was on that cruiser! Isn’t it the mischief that our wireless -isn’t ready! Come along—I was afraid you’d miss her.” He raced up the -companion-ladder, Norah at his heels. - -At the top Wally was prancing with excitement. - -“Oh, hurry up, you two!” Each boy grasped one of Norah’s hands, and they -tore along the deck. Every one was hanging over the rail, watching the -British ship approaching. Beside the great bulk of the _Perseus_, or of -the German ship, she seemed small. But she was built for speed and armed -to the teeth. - -Mr. Linton offered Norah his glasses—but she found that her hands were -shaking too much to use them. The change from despair to relief had, -indeed, affected every one; ordinarily grave people laughed and talked -excitedly, and the younger passengers were like children released from -school. No one would go down to the second breakfast. Stewards wandered -round with trays of beef-tea, and people took cups absent-mindedly, and -forgot to drink them. The decks, generally so spic-and-span, were -littered untidily, since rugs and wraps had been flung down wherever -their owners happened to be standing—and the stewards were themselves -far too disorganised to perform ordinary duties. For one morning at -least, the sober _Perseus_ was “fey.” - -“I’d give something to understand what she’s talking about,” John West -exclaimed, watching the cruiser, which was exchanging rapid signals with -the _Perseus_. - -“Easy enough to guess,” Jim said. “They want to know anything we can -tell them, that’s all. Look at us”—he glanced aloft—“flag-wagging our -hardest. This is beginning to make up for last night!” - -“Yes—you chaps must have had a pretty bad time,” West said. “I’m jolly -glad rescue came—it wasn’t any too soon.” - -“Oh, a miss is as good as a mile,” said Wally. “I’m too cheerful to -think of last night. By Jove, I believe they’re coming near enough to -talk! Isn’t it gorgeous!” He seized Norah, and they executed a wild -polka down the deck—a proceeding which would ordinarily have attracted -some attention, but just now drew not a single glance, except from the -knitting old lady, who beamed over her muffler, and said, “Bless them, -pretty dears!”—which remark filled Wally with wrath beyond anything he -had manifested for the German ship. They came back to the others, -outwardly sober, but still bubbling within. - -“She’s the _Sealark_,” the second officer told them. “Light -cruiser—about 6,000 tons; and her armament is a dream. I saw her in -Portsmouth Harbour last July. I guess she’ll make things warm for the -beggar.” - -“How did she come—was it just luck?” Wally asked. - -“Luck?—not it! She caught our ‘S.O.S.’ signals yesterday; a jolly good -thing for us young Grey stuck to his wireless as long as he did. Watch -her—she means hailing us, I think.” - -From the bridge, a voice through a megaphone demanded perfect silence on -the decks—and every voice was hushed as the cruiser came rapidly -alongside, so close that greetings could easily be exchanged. Rapid -questions and answers flashed from bridge to bridge. The _Sealark_ was -ready for action; they could see the cleared decks, and the guns trained -in readiness. Bluejackets swarmed everywhere, cheery-faced and alert, -and waved jovial greetings to the big liner. Norah found her heart -thumping. War! this was war, indeed! - -The cruiser drew away, exerting her utmost speed. Mr. Dixon came down to -the passengers. - -“She wants us to stand by to help with the wounded,” he said. “She’ll be -engaging the German soon. No, I don’t think it will be much of a fight; -the German is more than twice her size, but she’s only an armed -merchantman, and the _Sealark’s_ guns outclass hers hopelessly. We’re -not going to run risks of shells, of course, but you’ll get some sort of -a view.” He favoured Norah with a special grin. “I shouldn’t wonder if -you got your friend Smith back, Miss Norah!” - -It was half an hour later that the first dull roar of a gun echoed -across the sea. The _Perseus_ had altered her course, so that she should -not be in the line of fire, and the three ships formed an irregular -triangle. They saw the puff of smoke from the _Sealark_ and then -another, and another; but the German held on her way, unchecked, -although the _Sealark_ was rapidly overhauling her. Then she began to -return the shots, and the watchers on the _Perseus_ could mark by how -much they fell short by the splashes as they fell. The British cruiser -answered, her superior range giving her an immense advantage. - -“Ah—she’s got home!” - -Mr. Linton’s quick exclamation came just before a shout from the bridge. -One of the funnels of the German ship had tilted suddenly, and remained -looking curiously helpless, like a child’s damaged toy. The _Sealark_ -had found her range. Shot after shot crashed; another funnel fell -sideways, and a great black stain showed near the stern where a shell -had hit its mark. The ships grew nearer together. - -“The German’s having engine-trouble, I believe,” Grantham hazarded. “Her -speed is falling off.” - -“By Jove, she’s hit the _Sealark_!” - -Almost simultaneously with two vicious puffs of smoke from the German -guns there came a commotion on the deck of the British cruiser. Through -the glasses could be seen marks of damage, and one gun spoke no more. -But, as if in swift retaliation, a series of crashing shots from the -_Sealark_ shook the air—and the enemy ship seemed to shiver and pause. -A gaping hole showed in her side. Again the British guns roared across -the water. - -“She’s done,” Mr. Linton said. - -The German ship was quite done. She listed slowly, more and more of her -hull becoming visible as the deck, with its litter of wreckage and -broken funnels, sloped away from them. Gushes of vapour that might have -been either smoke or steam poured from her; and then, as the watchers -held their breath in suspense, blue wreaths of smoke curled lazily -upwards. She was on fire and sinking. - -“The _Sealark_ is signalling to us,” the second officer said. “We’re -wanted—it’s full steam ahead. But she won’t last until we get there.” - -The guns of the British cruiser had ceased. A moment before she had been -nothing but a death-dealing machine; now she suddenly became an -instrument of mercy, dashing forward to save life. The _Perseus_ was no -less ready. The water foamed from her bows, as she bore down upon the -sinking German. - -“She’s going!” A score of voices raised the cry. - -The German warship tilted still further. Then she gave a long, lazy -roll, like a sea-monster seeking rest; her stern lifted, and she dived -down, head-first. So quickly was it done that it seemed a dream; one -moment the great ship held every eye—the next, and she was gone, and -scarcely a ripple marked the place of her sinking. - -As she went, black forms dropped from her, looking, at that distance, -like a swarm of flies. They could be seen faintly in the smooth water, -tiny dots upon the surface of the slow swell. - -“Oh—hurry! hurry!” - -Norah did not know that she had spoken. Her eyes were glued to those -helpless black specks. - -The boats were already swung out. As the _Sealark_ and the _Perseus_ -came near the broken wreckage and bobbing heads, both ships slackened, -and the boats shot down to the water. There was a moment’s delay as the -ready oars came out and they drew away from the side; then they leaped -forward, every man bending in real earnest to his work. Once among the -wreckage, all but two oars were withdrawn, and the rowers leaned over, -intent on their work of mercy. They lifted out one dripping form after -another. Their cries of encouragement drifted back to the ships. - -“I don’t think one other head is showing,” said Jim at last. “Poor -beggars—what a crowd have gone down!” - -They scanned the sea with keen eyes. There was nothing to be seen but -spars and littered wreckage. - -“The boats are coming back,” Norah said, her voice shaking. Not to look -had been impossible; but it would be as impossible ever to forget what -she had seen. - -They came back with their burden of flotsam and jetsam; it was pitifully -small, compared to the number who had been on the ship. Some were -wounded, many exhausted from shock and immersion. These were busy times -for the doctor and his assistants on the _Perseus_. The _Sealark_ had -but little room for prisoners and the sick, and was glad to turn them -over to the great empty liner. - -“We’re practically a floating war prison,” said Mr. Dixon. They had -exchanged final greetings with the British man-of-war, and the _Perseus_ -had resumed her course to the Canaries. “The two officers who called -yesterday are with us, bless their jovial hearts! They aren’t -wounded—and they’re not so supercilious either. An exceedingly wet and -cold man can’t very well be supercilious, even if he’s a German—and -those chaps were half-drowned rats when we pulled ’em in.” - -“What about Mr. Smith?” Wally asked. - -Mr. Dixon shook his head. - -“No sign of him—gone down, poor little man. It’s just as well, I -suppose; he’d have hated not getting back to his Fatherland. And I, at -least, am devoutly glad that I haven’t to give up some of my leave to a -trial in England.” Mr. Dixon gave a cavernous yawn. “I haven’t had any -sleep since the night before last, and I’m going to turn in; and people -who look as tired as you, Miss Norah, should do the same.” - -“I don’t think I’m tired,” said Norah vaguely. The chief officer -laughed. - -“Put her to bed, Jim,” he said, nodding his head. “We’ve enough German -patients without a good Australian as well. And you might turn in -yourself, by way of experiment—you look as if you could do with a -sleep. I’m going to dream that I’m a prisoner on that beastly German -boat, for the pleasure of waking up and finding I’m not—I advise you to -do the same!” - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - - LAS PALMAS. - -“IT’S the heartsomest sight ever I seen!” said the quartermaster. - -They were steaming slowly in to the big harbour of Las Palmas. Jim and -Wally were great friends with the quartermaster, although he had once -fallen over them bodily, an awkward occurrence that had produced a -temporary coolness. He had forgiven them since discovering that their -knowledge of knots was beyond that of the ordinary land-lubber -passenger, and that Jim carried good tobacco, and frequently had some to -spare. - -The harbour was gradually opening up ahead—and they were looking at a -sight of which the _Sealark_ had warned them. Dotted all over the -land-locked stretch of dancing blue were ships, great and small; idle -ships, with no smoke coming from them except the little trail from the -cook’s galley. Many bore names well known in the big cities of the world -where passenger steamers go. The _Perseus_ went so close to some that -they could scan their decks, where idle sailors lay about, playing cards -and smoking—or leaned over the rail to watch the great British ship -come slowly into port. Never had the Australian boys seen such sleepy -ships. - -“That one looks queer,” Jim said, indicating a vessel close in-shore; -and the quartermaster grinned. - -“She’s strolled ashore, an’ broke her back,” he said, cheerfully. “Good -enough for her, too—and for the lot of ’em. Don’t it do your heart good -to see ’em, miss?”—to Norah, who came up at the moment. “Lyin’ there -with their dinky little black an’ white an’ red flags trailin’ out over -their sterns, afraid to move; an’ the barnacles a-growin’ on ’em. They -grow quick, too, in this nice warm water!” - -“Are they the German ships?” Norah asked. - -Jim nodded assent. - -“Thirty-one of them,” he said, an unusual note of pride in his quiet -voice. “Most of them have been there since the first fortnight of the -war, when all the German merchant-shipping scurried for cover.” - -“And there they sit,” said Wally, happily, “afraid to show their noses -out, because they know they’ll be caught—and a little British cruiser -comes and counts them now and then, like an old dog rounding up a mob of -sheep.” - -“They’ve sold all their cargoes for food,” said the quartermaster. “Ate -’em up, like—an’ much them Spaniards ashore gave ’em for the lot! Them -Las Palmas dagoes must be pretty wealthy these times. An’ the beggars -can’t get away, nor do nothink. Must make ’em feel pretty savage, seein’ -ships like us come strollin’ in an’ out.” - -“By Jove, it must!” Jim uttered. “Here are we, worth a million and a -half of money—and just the cargo England wants—meat and wool and -foodstuffs; and they’ve got to watch us go out safely! Wouldn’t it make -you permanently sour!” - -“Well, it brings home what sea-power means,” Mr. Linton said. “Not a bad -thing to remember, this harbour, when things go wrong at the Front—and -to realise that the same state of affairs is going on in many harbours. -I’d like to know how many German ships are bottled up, all over the -world; she can’t have much trade left.” - -“Why, you won’t find the German merchant flag afloat, sir,” said the -quartermaster, “unless it’s sittin’ tight in a neutral port like this. -As for her trade——!” He snapped his fingers. “Well, she’s a long way -off beat yet; but she ain’t doin’ any business!” - -They had been running for some hours in sight of the Grand Canary, the -chief island of the group—its rugged hills and headlands had been a -welcome sight after the long stretch of unbroken sea. Since their escape -from the German warship there had been a feeling of unrest all over the -_Perseus_: the time seemed interminable, and the old sense of security -in which they had lived contentedly had altogether gone. People were apt -to jump at unusual sounds; books and games languished, for there was a -painful fascination in scanning the sea for a smoke-trail that might or -might not be another enemy cruiser. Above all, the hunger for news of -the war became more and more intense, blotting out all lesser interests. - -The _Perseus_ dropped anchor in the outer harbour—so crowded with -shipping were the inner waters, that the huge vessel would have had -difficulty in finding room to turn. Almost immediately the agents’ -launch was seen hurrying out from the shore. In its wake came a huge -flotilla of dinghies, containing every saleable article known to the -bumboat-men of the Islands—lace, alleged to be Spanish, fine linen -embroideries and drawn-thread work, silks, “sandalwood” boxes—made of -any wood that came handy, and soaked in sandal oil to tickle tourist -nostrils—roughly carved ivory, Canary knives and ebony -elephants—probably of Birmingham manufacture—and a host of other -“curios,” equally reliable and valuable. In addition, there were boats -loaded to the gunwale with oranges and others with vegetables; and some -that were top-heavy with an unwieldy cargo of basket-chairs. Until the -medical officer of the port had granted pratique to the ship, no one was -allowed on board; so the boats clustered thickly on each side, and the -men held up their wares, shrieking their prices, and managed to conduct -quite a number of sales by the simple expedient of passing the goods up -in a bucket lowered from the deck. - -Spanish medical officers are generally full of their own importance, but -devoid of any inclination to hurry. It was some time before the -impatient passengers saw the official boat coming leisurely across the -harbour; and a further delay ensued before the pompous Spaniard had -satisfied himself that the _Perseus_ was sufficiently free from any -disease. - -“They had small-pox brought to them by a ship once,” Mr. MacTavish told -Norah; “and ever since they’ve been so scared that they’d refuse to let -any one ashore if we had as much as a case of nettle-rash on board! -Judging by the smells of the place when you get there, I should think -they bred for themselves all the diseases they’d need.” - -“He’s going back to his boat,” Norah said, looking over the rail at the -gorgeous, gold-laced official. - -“Then I expect it’s all right,” said the officer. “Just watch those -bumboat-men.” - -Some one had communicated to the boatmen the fact that the _Perseus_ was -free ground, and the boats were crowding to the gangway in a struggling -mass, each striving for first place at the steps. There seemed no rules -of the game; they shoved each other aside furiously, edged boats out of -the way with complete disregard of the safety of their crews or cargoes, -and kept up a continuous babel of shouts and objurgations, coupled with -wild appeals to the passengers to wait for the bargains they were -bringing. - -“Look at that chap!” Wally said, chuckling at a man whose boat had just -reached the steps when a well-directed shove from the stern sent it -flying lengths ahead. The man subsided in a heap on his wares, which -were of a knobbly character and not adapted for reclining. He protested, -in floods of fluent Spanish, while his wily ejector, who had promptly -taken his place, proceeded to get his own goods on board with much -calmness. - -“They’re awful sharks,” said Mr. MacTavish. “Generally they bring on -board about three decent things, in case of striking any one who really -knows good stuff; the rest is just the scrapings of the Las Palmas -shops—all the things they know they’ll never sell ashore. You want to -be up to their tricks—and, whatever you do, don’t give them more than a -quarter of the money they ask.” - -The Spaniards were pouring on board in a steady stream. Some, without -wasting time, dashed to vacant spaces on the deck and began to lay out -their wares; others rushed up and down, thrusting goods, fruit, and -post-cards almost into the faces of the passengers and asking fabulous -prices for them. Norah, who had no wish at all to buy a fan for which -the vendor demanded five shillings, said, “I’ll give you ninepence,” and -expected to see him disappear in wrath. But the Spaniard smiled widely -and said, “Thank you, miss!”—and Norah found herself the embarrassed -possessor of the fan, while the seller as urgently begged her to buy an -elephant. - -“Oh, take me away, Wally!” she said, laughing. “Can’t we go ashore?” - -“There’s a launch coming off now,” Mr. MacTavish said. “They’ll take -you, and bring you back. But don’t go unless you’re a good sailor, Miss -Norah—there’s a cheery little lap on in this harbour.” - -“I’ll risk it,” Norah declared, laughing. - -“Well, it upsets quite a few,” said the junior officer. “However, you’re -ashore in a quarter of an hour, so the agony isn’t prolonged.” - -The launch bobbed cheerily across the harbour, and the “lop” of which -Mr. MacTavish had spoken proved quite sufficient for several of the -passengers, who were both green and glad when the little boat arrived at -the stone steps of the wharf. At the head of the steps enthusiastic -drivers proffered their services. The Billabong party, by the Captain’s -advice, had engaged a guide—a bustling gentleman, speaking very -imperfect English, who hurried them to the quaint little carriages of -the town—two-wheeled, hooded erections, capable, when rattling over -their native cobblestones, of inflicting innumerable contusions on the -human frame. They dashed wildly up a long, ascending road, the drivers -urging their raw-boned steeds with whip and voice. - -Las Palmas, to the hurried tourist, offers but little in the way of -sight-seeing. To the leisured, with time to drive away from the white -town, up the mountain, to Monte and Santa Brigida, there is opportunity -for seeing the best of the island—rolling country with deep little -cleft glens running to the sea, banana gardens, and the vineyards among -which Santa Brigida nestles—vineyards where the Canary wine of old days -was made. Motor-buses run there to-day—unromantic successors to the gay -old adventurers who sailed the Spanish Main and drank Canary sack. - -The majority of ships, however, stay in the port but a few hours, making -the call only for mails and vegetables and a shipment of fruit for -London; so that the average tourist can but put himself in the hands of -a guide and make a meteoric dash through the city, seeing what the guide -chooses to show him, and no more. - -“Did you ever see such unfortunate, raw-boned horses!” gasped Norah. “I -do wish our man wouldn’t beat him so continually.” - -The guide smiled widely. “De horse she not mind de beat,” he said. - -“I expect they’re used to it,” Jim remarked; “it really seems part of -the show. Anyway, they all do it.” - -They hurried through the great Cathedral, seeing vestments three hundred -years old; through the fruit and fish markets; and then to the place -which the guide plainly regarded as the champion attraction of the -town—the prison. It was a gloomy building, entered through a big -courtyard where snowy-white geraniums bloomed in startling contrast to -the grim stone walls. Within, they glanced at the room where trials were -held; and then were conducted along dim corridors and into a cell where -an unpleasant iron framework was fixed above a bare iron chair. - -“De garotte!” announced the guide, proudly. “Where dey put to death de -murderers!” He sat down in the iron chair, and obligingly put his neck -in the clutch of the grisly collar, to show how it worked—whereat Mr. -Linton uttered an ejaculation of wrath, and hastily removed his -daughter. - -“Do they really kill people there?” Norah asked, wide-eyed. It did not -seem easy to realise. - -“They do—but there’s no need for you to look at the beastly place!” -said her father, indignantly. - -“Well, it looked awfully tame,” said Norah. “I suppose I haven’t enough -imagination, daddy. It was rather like the arrangement they put to keep -your head steady in a photographer’s!” - -Jim and Wally came out, followed by the guide, who looked rather -crestfallen. - -“Unpleasant beast!” remarked Jim. “He’s been showing us a collection of -knives and scythes and other grisly weapons, with dark and deadly -stains—says various ladies and gentlemen used them to slay other ladies -and gentlemen! First you see the garotte, and then what brings you to -it. It puts you off murdering any one, at all events in Las Palmas!” - -“It makes me feel like murdering the guide!” said Wally. “I never saw -any one gloat so unpleasantly!” - -They left the prison and rattled back into the main streets of the town. -Spanish girls in graceful mantillas looked down upon them from upper -windows; and once Norah declared that she saw a Spanish cavalier -serenading one, with guitar all complete—which seemed unlikely, even in -Las Palmas, in broad daylight. The streets were narrow and dirty, the -cobblestones unbelievably rough. At top speed the little carriages -bumped over them, their occupants bouncing hither and thither, and -suffering many things. They rejoiced unaffectedly when at length they -halted, and set out on foot to explore the business part of the town. - -The shops were full of fascinating things, to unaccustomed eyes, and -their owners did not wait for people to enter, but came to the doorways, -or even out into the streets, begging them to buy; each pointing out how -much more excellent was his shop than that of his neighbour. Whether -they succeeded or failed in making a sale, they were always exquisitely -polite. - -“You feel,” said Wally, “that even if they don’t manage to sell you a -pennyworth, they’re amply rewarded for their trouble, by the pleasure of -having seen you!” - -In a restaurant overlooking the sea they procured very bad coffee with -cakes of startling colours and quite poisonous taste; after which -refection every one felt rather ill, and formed a high opinion of -Spanish digestive powers. There were German sailors in the restaurant -evidently from the ships in the harbour; they looked sourly at the -cheery little party of English-speaking people, and muttered guttural -remarks that clearly were not pleasant. - -“It’s hardly to be expected that they should feel good-humoured at the -sight of us,” said Jim. “Poor beggars—here since war broke out, with -nothing to do, and practically no money; and their ships rotting in the -harbour. And they have to watch us go in and out just as we please. It -wouldn’t excite one’s finer feelings, if one were a German.” - -“Have Germans got any?” queried Wally. - -“They’re not overstocked, I believe,” Jim said, grinning. “But one -wouldn’t develop many in Las Palmas, anyhow. I’ve seen more villainous -faces here than in the whole course of my previous existence. Our Zulu -friend in Durban was a beauty, compared to some of them.” - -“Yes, one wouldn’t care to wander about here alone on a dark night,” -said his father. “Half of the populace look as though they would quite -cheerfully and politely assassinate any one for sixpence. Come on, -children; the guide seems to be getting excited—it’s time we went back -to the ship.” - -The _Perseus_ steamed away in the twilight—the crowd of boatmen -chattering and shouting round her until the last moment, and attempting -to sell for a few pence articles for which, earlier in the day, they had -demanded many shillings. Past the imprisoned German ships they went, -seeing the sullen crews watching them, envying them the freedom of the -seas. The captain came along the deck as they watched the sunset and the -slowly fading white town under the mountain. - -“Well, we didn’t get much news out of Las Palmas,” he said. “One never -does. It’s all deadlock, anyhow, at the Front; winter has shut down on a -lot of activities.” - -“Judging by my papers, most of the battle area seems water-logged,” said -Mr. Linton. “It wouldn’t give much scope for movements.” - -“No,” the captain agreed. “Personally, the agents have left me -completely undecided; we’re scheduled to go to London, but they say we -may be sent to Liverpool—or anywhere else.” He laughed. “Time was when -a man was master on his ship—but in war he’s not much more than a -cabin-boy. There’s a hint that the Government want our cargo of meat to -go straight to France.” - -“What—would we go there?” Norah queried, much excited. - -“Not much!” said the captain, with emphasis. “Too many mines and -submarines about, Miss Norah, to take passengers on cross-Channel -excursions. No, I guess I’d have to land you all at some Channel port. -They say we’ll hear by wireless—meanwhile, I wouldn’t advise you to -label your luggage.” - -Mr. Linton looked anxious. - -“I’ll be just as glad if we don’t have the trip up the Channel,” he -said. “There would be no further danger of cruisers, I suppose; but one -does not feel encouraged by the idea of floating mines—not with -daughters about.” - -“Indeed, you catch me letting you meet a mine alone!” said Norah -hastily. “Me, that can hardly trust you to change your coat when it’s -wet!” Whereat the Captain chuckled and departed. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - - - THE END OF THE VOYAGE. - -PERHAPS the last week of the voyage was the longest of all. - -From Las Palmas the _Perseus_ ran into bad weather, and the Australians -were sharply reminded that instead of their own hot December they were -coming to English winter. Ice-cold gales blew day and night; the decks -were constantly swept by drifting showers of sleety rain. It was often -impossible to keep cabin port-holes open, even in the day-time, since -the waves were high; and at night they were definitely closed. Wally, -who had opened his on a night that was deceptively calm, was found by -Jim “awash,” a wave having entered and deluged everything. Wally was -equally apologetic and wrathful; he paddled in the chilly flood, -rescuing damp boxes from under the berths. - -“I’m awfully sorry, old man,” he said penitently. “The cabin was so -horrid stuffy—and the waves seemed quiet. I think”—hopefully—“that my -things have got the worst of the mess, anyhow.” - -“I wish you’d come out of that and get dry socks on,” said Jim, -laughing. “You look like an old pelican, wading round there! Here’s -Scott—he’ll fix it up.” They fled, leaving the flood to the -much-enduring steward, who had probably grappled with such emergencies -before. - -The evenings were the worst time. By nightfall the closed-up ship was -unbearably airless; rather than remain below, it was better to face the -dripping decks, to find a comparatively sheltered corner in the inky -gloom, and there to sit, wrapped in mackintoshes and rugs, until -bedtime—when the keen salt wind would have effectually made every one -sleepy. They woke up heavy-headed, and fled back to the deck as soon as -dressing could be hurried through. No one could possibly call the deck -comfortable, but at least it was airy—though, perhaps, too airy. - -News came now each morning by wireless; unsatisfactory news, for the -most part, since it told but little and spoke only of the long winter -deadlock just commencing. Still, it was something, and the passengers -clustered round the notice-board after breakfast, reading the scrawled -items hungrily. Daily the feeling of tension increased, as the ship -ploughed her way to the end of her long journey. It was harder than ever -to be cooped up in idleness when so much was happening just ahead; so -much waiting to be done. - -They saw no warships, yet they knew that the watch was all round them, -vigilant and sleepless. Daily the wireless operator heard the echo of -their signals, telling nothing except that the grey watchdogs of the -seas were somewhere near, hidden in the veil of mist through which they -went. It was hard to realise, so lonely did the _Perseus_ seem, that her -position was known—that, somewhere, preparations and plans were being -made, of which she was the centre, although even her captain knew -nothing. Three days off the English coast the invisible Powers-That-Be -spoke to her. - -“Orders!” said Jim, dashing into his father’s cabin, where Mr. Linton -and Norah were endeavouring to pack his belongings. “No London or -Liverpool for us, thank goodness! We’re all to be landed at Falmouth. It -means a day less at sea.” - -“That’s the best news I’ve heard for a good while,” said Mr. Linton. -“Six weeks at sea during war-time is enough for any man. Wireless -orders, I suppose?” - -“Yes—the captain won’t disclose whether they’re from Government or from -the agents—but the officers believe it’s Government, and that the ship -is going straight to Brest or Cherbourg with her foodstuffs, as soon as -she gets rid of us. We get in at daylight on Monday.” He rushed off to -find Wally. - -They could, indeed, have got in on Sunday night, but for the war -regulations—that no ships should enter an English port between sunset -and sunrise; so, from evening on Sunday, the _Perseus_ dawdled along, -knowing that she must kill time, and preferring to do it in the safety -of open ocean rather than off a rock-bound coast. Then, as if the sea -wanted a final diversion with them, a fog came up, and the officers -spent an anxious night, “dodging about” in the mist and looking for the -unfamiliar entrance to Falmouth Harbour—all the time in dread of -hearing breakers on a near shore. Two days before, they found later, a -ship had gone on the rocks during the night. The Cornish coast stretches -harsh hands to trap the unwary. - -Fortune, however, befriended the _Perseus_. Towards morning the fog -lifted, and the harbour entrance showed clearly. Norah, lying awake in -her berth, saw through her port-hole a rugged headland—and almost -immediately a blinding flash filled her cabin with so bright a light -that for a moment it seemed on fire. It passed away as quickly as it had -come; and Norah, springing to the port-hole, saw a dim coast and -powerful searchlight that went to and fro across the entrance. Not even -a fishing-dinghy could have slipped in unperceived by its white ray. -Then a black funnel came so close to her face that she jumped back in -astonishment. Looking down, she could see, below, the deck of a little -gunboat, where were men in blue uniforms. A curt voice was hailing in -tones of crisp authority. - -“What ship are you, and where from?” - -“The _Perseus_—from Australia.” - -“Last port?” - -“Las Palmas.” - -“What are you doing in here?” - -“Wireless orders.” Norah smiled a little at the evident note of -grievance in Captain Garth’s voice—as who should say, “I never asked to -come!” - -The gunboat moved on, until it was directly under the bridge. Norah -could hear curt instructions as to anchoring. Then the fierce little -grey boat darted away across the harbour. - -She dressed hastily. Everything had been left ready overnight, and her -little cabin wore a strangely cheerless aspect, denuded of all its -homelike touches and with labelled and corded luggage lying about. Jim -and Wally found her ready when they looked in on their way to the deck. - -“Put on your biggest coat,” Jim said. “It’s colder than anything you -ever dreamed of. To think they’re probably having bush-fires on -Billabong!” - -“I wish we had one here!” said Wally, shivering. - -There were yellow lights still showing in the houses round the harbour, -but daylight had come, and soon they began to twinkle out. It was a bare -coast, with a grey castle on one headland—behind it, on a long rise, a -dense cluster of huts that spoke of military encampment. The harbour -itself was full of ships; among them, the _Perseus_, largest of them -all, was going dead slow. The crew could be heard exchanging greetings -with deck-hands engaged in morning tasks on vessels lying at -anchor—question and answer ran back and forth; war news, curiosity -about the long voyage, and often, “Goin’ to enlist, now you’re home?” -Every one was excited and happy; the crew were beaming over their work; -the stewards—most of whom had declared their intention of -enlisting—wild with joy at the thought of home after their long months -of absence. - -The Australians drew together a little; there was something in the bleak -grey December morning, in the cheery bustle and excitement, that made -them suddenly alone and homesick—homesick for great trees and bare -plains, for scorching sunlight and the green and gold splendour of the -Bush. - -“Doesn’t it seem a long way away?” Norah said, very low; and Jim and -Wally, knowing quite well what she meant, nodded silently. To them, too, -home was a great way off. - -They hurried through an early breakfast, and came again on deck to find -the anchor down for the last time, and the _Perseus_ lying at rest. An -official launch was alongside; and presently all the passengers were -mustered in the saloon, to answer to their names and declare their -nationality and business. It was a war precaution, but a perfunctory -one; as Wally remarked, the late Mr. Smith would have had no difficulty -whatever in passing with full marks. - -Then came good-byes, beginning with the captain, somewhat haggard after -his final vigil, and ending with little Tommy Field, who insisted on -attaching himself to Norah, and was with difficulty removed by his -parents. A tender was alongside; great piles of luggage were being shot -down to it. There were many delays before the passengers, blue and -shivering, were ushered down the gangway to the tossing deck below. - -Norah looked back as the tender steamed off slowly. Far above them -towered the mighty bulk of the _Perseus_, as it had towered at Melbourne -so many weeks before. Then it had seemed strange and unfriendly; now it -had changed; it was all the home she knew, in this cold, grey land. She -had a moment’s wild desire to go back to it. - -“Well, I am an idiot,” Wally said, beside her. “For weeks I’ve been -aching to get off that old ship—and now that I’m off, I feel suddenly -like a lost foal, and I want to go back and hide my head in my cabin! Do -you feel like that?” - -“’M,” said Norah, nodding very hard. “England feels very queer and -terrifying, all of a sudden, doesn’t it?” - -“Don’t you bother your little head,” said Jim. “We’ll worry through all -right.” - -Ashore there came a long Customs delay, since enthusiastic officials -insisted on having a lengthy hunt through luggage for revolvers, which -were liable to confiscation. They waited in a huge shed, which smelt of -many things, none of them pleasant. Finally they were released, and made -their way through a bewildering maze of rough buildings and railway -lines, until they found themselves at the station at Falmouth, where a -special train awaited them. - -It was all strange to the Lintons. The very accent of the Cornish folk -around them was unintelligible; the houses, packed closely together, as -unfamiliar as the bleak landscape and the leafless trees—trees that -Norah considered dead until she suddenly realised that she was no longer -in Australia, where a leafless tree is a dead tree, and where there is -no long winter sleep for Nature. These trees were bare, but dense with -growth of interlaced boughs and twigs; not beaten to gaunt skeletons, -like the Australian dead forest giants. Norah found that in their beauty -of form and tracery there was something more exquisite than in their -spring leafage. - -“Don’t the houses look queer!” Jim said. “We’ve been travelling for ever -so long, and I haven’t seen a single verandah!” - -Gradually, as the day wore on, the rain drifted up in a grey cloud, -blotting out all the cold landscape. It blew aside now and then, and -showed empty fields, divided by bare hedges; an emptiness that puzzled -the Australians, until they realised that they were in a country where -all cattle must be housed in winter. The fields, too, were astonishing: -quaint, irregularly shaped little patches, tiny beside their memories of -the wide paddocks of their own big land. The whole country looked like a -chessboard to their unaccustomed eyes; the great houses, among their -leafless trees, inexpressibly gaunt and bleak. - -Then, so soon after luncheon that they exclaimed in astonishment, -darkness came down and electric lights flashed on throughout the train. -The conductor came in to pull all blinds down carefully. - -“War regulations, sir,” he said in answer to Mr. Linton. “No trains -allowed to travel showin’ lights now, for fear of an attack by -aircraft—and goin’ over bridges they turns the lights off altogether. -Makes travellin’ dull, sir.” - -“It sounds as though it should make it exciting,” said Mr. Linton. - -“Might, if the aeroplanes came, sir,” said the conductor, laconically. -“They do say them Zeppelins is goin’ to shake things up in England. But -they ain’t come yet, an’ England ain’t shook up. Might be as well if she -wur.” He went on his mission of darkness. - -The slow day drew to a close. The train made few stoppages, and -travelled swiftly; but it was late before the long journey across -England was over, and they began to slacken down. Peering out, Norah and -the boys saw a dimly-lit mass of houses, so solid a mass, so -far-reaching, that they were almost terrifying. They were gaunt houses, -tall and grey, crowned with grimy chimney-pots; for miles they ran -through them, finding never a break in their close-packed squares. Then -came more lights and a grinding of brakes as they drew up; outside the -train, raucous voices of porters. - -“Paddington! Paddington!” - -“London at last!” said Mr. Linton. - -Presently they were packed into a taxi, whizzing along through dim -streets. The taxi-lights were darkened; there were few electric lights, -and all the upper parts of their glass globes had been blackened, so -that hostile aircraft, flying overhead, should find no guiding beams. -Lamps in shop windows were carefully shaded. - -It was a weird city, in its semi-darkness of war. The streets were full -of clamour—rattling of traffic, sharp ringing of tram-bells and the -hooting of motors, and, above every other sound the piercing cries of -newsboys—“Speshul! War Speshul!” Motor-buses, great red structures that -towered like cars of Juggernaut, rattled by them, their drivers darting -in and out among the traffic with amazing skill. Taxi-cabs went by in a -solid stream. The pavements were a dense mass of jostling, hurrying -people. And in whatever direction they looked were soldiers—men in -khaki, with quiet, purposeful faces. - -“Heaps and heaps of them aren’t a day older than I am!” Wally declared, -gleefully, bringing his head in. “Look at that little officer over -there! Why, I might be his uncle! If they are taking kids like that, -Jim, they can’t refuse you and me!” - -“They won’t refuse you,” David Linton said, gravely, looking at the -brown faces—Jim’s, quiet, but full of determination; Wally’s vivid with -excitement. There was no doubt that they were excellent war -material—quite too good to refuse. - -Norah’s hand closed on his in the darkness. The same thought had come to -them both. The long voyage, with its comparative peace, was behind them: -ahead was only war, and all that it might mean to the boys. The whole -world suddenly centred round the boys. London was nothing; England, -nothing, except for what it stood for; the heart of Empire. And the -Empire had called the boys. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - - - THE THING THAT COUNTS. - -“LITTLE chap!—you mustn’t mind like that.” - -Norah kept her face from the room, looking out into the hurrying London -street. Something quite unfamiliar was in her throat—a hard, hot lump. -She felt Jim’s hand on her shoulder, but she would not look at him until -she had mastered the lump’s determination to choke her. - -She turned to him in a moment. - -“I’m sorry, Jimmy,” she said penitently. “I didn’t mean to be such an -idiot—truly.” - -“You’re weak,” said Jim, with concern. “You can’t get influenza and be -in bed in this beastly hotel for three weeks without feeling it. Never -mind, kiddie—you’ll be better as soon as you can get out into the -country.” - -“I expect it’s the influenza,” Norah answered, seizing upon so excellent -an excuse, but still despising herself very heartily. “I never was in -bed so long before; and it doesn’t buck one up. And I wasn’t expecting -to see you in your uniform, and—and——” She turned back to the window -hurriedly. - -Jim talked on, as if he had not noticed. - -“We’ll be able to see quite a lot of you,” he said. “It’s great luck -going into camp at Aldershot—if you’re in London we’ll be able to run -up often; and of course, if you’re not, it will be because you’ve come -to live even nearer. We were jolly lucky to have had so much Australian -training—it has saved us a heap of fagging here.” - -“Yes, it was great luck,” said Norah, to the window. - -“You’ve got to get fat, by the way;” said Jim. “This little influenza -game of yours, has pulled you down—you’ll have your shoulder through -your dress, if you don’t watch it. I was talking to a fellow from -Aldershot this morning, at the tailor’s: he says it may be months before -we go out to the front. Or we may be put on garrison duty somewhere in -England. They want us to be as fit as possible before we go.” He -laughed, shortly. “Fit! and he says that ordinarily a regular regiment -reckons that it’s two years after a subaltern joins—even after -Sandhurst training—before they consider him worth his salt! Well, I -hope we won’t make a mess of it, that’s all.” - -“You won’t make any mess of anything,” Norah cried, indignantly, -swinging round to face him. “You know ever so much already—drill and -shooting and riding—” - -“What I don’t know would fill a barn,” said Jim sagely. “Drill isn’t -everything—there’s knowing men, and handling them, and finding out what -you can do and what you can’t. It makes you nearly scared to be an -officer, sometimes.” He squared his shoulders resolutely. “But I’m going -to have a mighty hard try at my job. I believe it’s something of a start -in the right direction to know that one doesn’t know much!” - -Norah fingered the star on his cuff. - -“Well—there are ever so many more ignorant than you.” - -“That’s the awful part of it,” Jim said soberly. “I believe there -are—and that says a heap! I know just enough to be sure I’ve got to -start learning and work at it like fun. But one hears that half the -fellows think that they can mug up the whole game in a month, and go -cheerily out to the Front. Well, it’s all very well if you’re a private. -But if you’ve even one star you may be responsible for other men’s -lives.” He shrugged. “It’s a queer country. Why on earth can’t they -catch them young and train them, as they do in Australia? It never hurts -any of us!” - -“Dad says they will have to do it some time.” - -“So they will. But if they had done it before, there mightn’t have been -a war at all.” - -Down the corridor they heard the clash of the lift-door shutting, and -then quick steps. - -“Here’s Wally,” Jim said, smiling. “He’s been struggling into his Sam -Browne belt. You just see if he doesn’t look topping!” - -Wally burst into the sitting-room like an avalanche. - -“Hallo, Norah, I’m so glad you’re up! Better?—truly—honest? You look a -bit sorry on it—poor old girl. We’re going to get you out this -afternoon—the sun is actually shining, and goodness knows, it may never -occur again!” He brought his heels together with a click, standing -before her, tall, and straight, and merry. “How does the kit look, Nor?” - -Behind him, David Linton came in quietly. Like Norah, he looked from one -to the other; boys only, big and brave in their new khaki with its -touches of brass and leather—manhood very close before them. - -“You both look beautiful—that is, your uniforms do!” said Norah. “We’ll -be exceedingly proud to go out with you, won’t we, Dad?” - -“I’ll be exceedingly glad when I get some of the newness off,” Jim said. -“When one sees people back from the front, a bit stained and worn, it -makes one feel cheap to be creaking along, just turned out like a -tailor’s block.” - -“From all I hear of Aldershot mud, we won’t have long to wait for the -stains,” said Wally, comfortably. “And London mud is an excellent -breaking in—you wait till a merry motor-’bus passes you at full tilt, -and you’ll get all the marking you want! This city for wet grubbiness in -January comes up to Melbourne in the same month for dry -grubbiness—think of old Melbourne on a hot north wind day, with the -dust in good going order!” - -“But to-day isn’t bad,” Jim said; “there’s really sunshine, and it’s not -so cold. Don’t you think, Dad, we might take the patient out?” - -“I’m not a patient any more,” Norah disclaimed. “It was bad enough to be -one for three weeks—I’m quite well now. Do let us go out.” - -“I’ve ordered some sort of a carriage,” said Mr. Linton—“having -foreseen mutiny on the part of the invalid. It should be ready; get your -things on, Norah, and make sure there are plenty of them. The sun here -isn’t what you would call a really warm specimen of its kind.” - -It was a watery sun, but it shone brightly enough on Piccadilly as they -drove along the splendid street. On either side great smoke-grimed -buildings towered high: but above them the sky was blue, and in -Piccadilly Circus there was a brave show of flowers, though the -“flower-girls”—who are rather weird old women—shivered under their -shawls among their baskets of violets and tulips. One had a basket that -made Norah suddenly cry out. - -“Why, it’s gum-leaves!” - -They stopped the carriage, and Wally jumped out and ran back, returning -presently with a little cluster of eucalyptus boughs, with yet unopened -capsules among the grey-green foliage. - -“She says it came from the South of France,” he said. “But it’s good -enough to be Australian!” - -To Norah it was quite good enough. She held the fragrant leaves -throughout their drive—seeing, beyond the roar and grime of London -streets, open plains with clumps of gum-trees—seeing their leaves stir -and rustle as the sweet wind blew through. - -From Piccadilly they turned into Hyde Park. Above the great gateway was -a queer erection—the searchlight that every night scanned the sky above -London for aeroplanes. Everywhere in the Park were soldiers; companies -marching and drilling, some in khaki, and others in any scraps of -uniform that could be found for them temporarily—including even the -scarlet tunic of other days. Officers were riding their chargers in the -Row; and carriages drove up and down with wounded soldiers out for an -airing in charge of nurses; men with arms or legs in splints, or with -bandages showing under their caps. The Park looked shabby and worn, its -brilliant grass trodden almost out of existence by the thousands of men -who drilled there daily. Its sacred precincts were even invaded by rough -buildings and tents—war stores, outside which stood sentries with fixed -bayonets. No longer was it London’s most cherished pleasure-ground, but -a part of the machinery of War. - -Everything about them spoke of War: the marching soldiers, the wounded -men, the newsboys who shouted the latest tidings in the streets. The -shops were full of soldiers’ comforts and of Service kit: the darkened -lamps gave mute testimony to its nearness. There was no topic in all -their world but War. Men and women alike were preparing and helping; -even children had taken on a new gravity since they had learned how many -of the fathers and brothers who marched away came back no more. Boys -fresh from school had been swallowed up by its hungry mouth; boys still -in the playground were drilling, impatient for the day that saw them old -enough to follow their companions. - -And they themselves were part of its machinery. War had brought them -across the world; and the more nearly they approached the thunder of the -guns, the less important became their own concerns, except so far as -they touched War. Home—Australia—Billabong; all their little story -faded into insignificance, even to themselves. Things which had been -important no longer counted: personal grief and happiness, personal -success and failure, a wave of great happenings had swept them all -away—of all their concerns nothing mattered now except the two cheery -lads in khaki who looked with curious eyes at London, and thought no -high-souled thoughts at all, but simply of doing the “decent thing.” - -To Norah the realisation came home suddenly. Dimly she had been seeing -and feeling these things during the weeks that she had lain ill while -her father and the boys were busied about commissions and uniforms: and -now the knowledge came to her that where great matters of duty and -honour are concerned, individual matters drop out. The nation’s honour -was the individual’s honour: therefore the individual became as never -before, a part of the nation, and forgot his or her own concerns in the -greater responsibility. Suffering and trouble might come: but there -would always be the help of pride in the knowledge that honour was the -only thing that really lasted. - -The boys were merry enough as they drove round the Park, and, leaving -the carriage, strolled through Kensington Gardens. Peter Pan’s statue -looked at them from its green background; and Norah found a quaint hint -of Wally in the carved face of the boy “who wouldn’t grow up.” Children -in woollen coats and long gaiters were sailing boats on the Round Pond; -Jim rescued an adventurous cutter which had gone too far, to the loudly -expressed despair of its owner, an intrepid navigator of four. But the -ordinary Park games of the children were almost deserted, for there was -a daily game of absorbing interest now—soldiers to watch, who manœuvred -and drilled and marched, until there were few Park children who did not -know half the drill themselves. Small boys drew themselves up and -saluted Jim and Wally smartly—to the embarrassment of those yet -unfledged warriors: even babies in perambulators crowed at the sight of -the uniforms and the cheery sound of bands playing the men back to -barracks. - -They came upon one ridiculous knot of street urchins—ragged youngsters -who had manufactured caps and belts and putties out of yellow paper, and -were marching in excellent order under their leader, a proud lad with a -wooden sword. They halted, and engaged an imaginary enemy vigorously; -some falling gloriously on the field of battle, the others routing the -foe with great slaughter, and finally carrying off the wounded. Jim gave -them sixpence, which the captain accepted with the gravity with which a -soldier may receive the V.C. - -There were other people in the Gardens—women in mourning, and some who -wore only an armlet of black or purple. They were sad-faced women; and -yet they bore themselves proudly, and their look was high as it dwelt -upon the uniformed lads who passed them. It was not possible to see -them, and not to know what their proud thoughts were, and what their -grief. Men looked at them reverently—women who had given up their dear -ones to Empire and were steadfast and brave in the memories that were -all they had left. - -The afternoon darkened, and a chilly wind began to ruffle the surface of -the Round Pond and to fill the sails of the tiny yachts. Mr. Linton -hurried Norah to the shelter of the carriage, and they drove back to the -hotel, through the roaring traffic of Oxford Street. - -“Did you ever see such a jam?” Wally ejaculated. They were halted in a -block near Oxford Circus; ahead of them dozens of motor-’buses, around -them taxi-cabs, carriages, and huge carts; and all fitted into the -smallest available spaces, like the pieces of a jig-saw puzzle. In front -of all a policeman held a mighty, white-gloved hand, huge and -compelling. Presently he lowered it, and the packed vehicles began to -move across the open space of the Circus, while the released body of -foot-passengers streamed over like a swarm of ants. - -“You know,” said Jim, looking with admiring reverence at the policeman, -“a few of those chaps would be very useful at the Front, in case of a -rout among our fellows. They would only have to hold up that immense -white hand and the flight would stop like a shot!” - -“Yes, and in the interval between those duties they could be directing -the forward movement to Berlin!” said Wally eagerly. “Let’s suggest it -to the War Office!” - -“I would, if we hadn’t got our commissions,” said Jim. “As it is, I want -to stay in the Army. Reformers always have a poor time at the hands of -officials.” - -The carriage stopped, and they hurried into the hotel, glad to get away -from the keen January wind. Jim came last, after paying the coachman; -Norah paused in the warm, carpeted lounge to wait for him. As he entered -quickly, tall and good to look at, in his khaki, an old lady with a -black armlet passed out. Jim held the swing door for her. She looked at -him and stopped involuntarily: in her face such a mingling of longing -and sorrow that the boy’s glance dropped, unable to meet those hungry -mother-eyes. For a moment her lip quivered; then, she forced a smile. - -“You are going out?” she asked. - -“I hope so,” Jim answered gravely. - -“May I wish you luck, and shake hands with you?” She put out her hand, -and Jim took it in his brown paw, gently. - -“Thank you,” he said. They looked at each other for a moment, and then -the mother who had no son passed on. - -Norah and Jim went up the staircase in silence. Tea was waiting, and -Norah poured it out; the boys waiting on her. She was still weak after -her illness: glad, presently to go to lie down, at Mr. Linton’s -injunction. She wanted to get herself in hand before the parting came: -it was bad enough to have even once gone near to breaking down. English -influenza, Norah thought, had a depressing effect upon one’s backbone. - -Jim came in soon, and sat down on the bed, tucking her up warmly. They -talked in low voices of the time that was coming. - -“So you’ll just be the plucky little mate you’ve always been,” Jim said -to her, at last. “Remember, it’s your job. This thing is so big that -there’s more or less of a job for every one. Only I think a man’s is -simpler—at least it’s ready waiting for him, but a woman has got to go -and hunt hers up. You aren’t a woman, kiddie, but you’re going to look -after your job.” - -“I’m going to try,” Norah said. - -“It’s hard on Dad,” said Jim. “He’s getting old, and sometimes I think -he isn’t as strong as he was. I’ll be worried about him all the time I’m -away: but I’d be much more worried if you hadn’t come. It’s a tremendous -weight off my mind that I’m leaving you to look after him.” - -Norah flushed with pleasure. - -“Is it, Jim? I’m so glad.” - -“Why, you’re almost everything to him,” Jim said. “I’m not going to -think of morbid things, because the chances are that Wally and I will -come back: but if I don’t, I know Dad won’t have lost the best thing he -has.” - -“Please, Jimmy,” said Norah, very low. - -“I won’t, old chap,” said Jim. “Just don’t worry, and try not to let Dad -worry: and both of you get busy. There are heaps of relief jobs for -people who really want to work. And afterwards you’ll be satisfied -because you really did your bit in the war. If every one did just their -little bit the whole job would be done in no time. It’s the slackers -that keep it going—and you never were a slacker, Nor. You’ve always -done your share.” - -“Mine is such a tiny little share,” Norah said. “It hardly seems to -count.” - -“Don’t you believe it!” Jim answered. “We can’t all do a big thing, like -Kitchener and Jellicoe; and lots of men never get a chance for -distinction—they say half the V.C’s and D.S.O’s are pure luck. But -every one has got some sort of a little row to hoe, and everyone’s row -counts. Your job is partly to look after Dad, and I believe you’ll do it -best by getting busy—both of you. Dad will go to pieces if he’s idle, -and worrying about Wally and me.” - -“I won’t let him,” said Norah, nodding. “I promise, Jim. We’ll work.” - -“Then that’s all right,” Jim said. “And you’ll keep fit yourself; and -we’ll see you ever so often.” - -“Oh—do come often!” Norah whispered. They wrung each other’s hands. -Then Mr. Linton came in, and also sat down on the bed, and they managed -to be quite cheerful, and made great plans for excursions when Norah -should be quite strong and the boys came up from Aldershot. It might be -three months, or three days, before they were sent out to the -fighting-line: there was nothing to be gained by speaking of it. - -Jim looked at his watch, at length. - -“Nearly time we went,” he said. - -Norah jumped up and made a valiant attempt to tidy her curly hair—on -the state of which Wally made severe comments when they rejoined him, -declaring that she might have been crawling under the haystack at home. - -“I know I’ve got to remember I’m in London,” said Norah penitently, -“Wally, why will you be like Aunt Eva!” - -“Never mind—we’ll bring you a large bunch of assorted German scalps -when we come back from the Front,” said Wally. “They’ll look lovely in -the hall at Billabong, among the native weapons!” - -“If you bring your own scalps in good order, we’ll excuse you the -Germans,” said Mr. Linton. - -“If you leave untidy German oddments about Billabong, Brownie will be -annoyed!” said Norah, laughing. “Oh, won’t it be lovely when we all go -back!” - -“It will be just the best spree we ever had—and that is saying a lot!” -Wally answered. He looked down at Norah. “There’s something a bit unfair -about this, you know,” he declared. “Norah has been in all our plans -ever since she was a bit of a youngster; and now we’ve got to go and -leave her out, for the first time. We’ll have to work up something very -special when we come back, old Nor, to make up for it.” - -“The very most special thing will be to go back—all together,” Norah -said. “And don’t you trouble about me—I’ll find a job. You’ll be a -bit—just a little bit—careful about dry socks, won’t you, boys? And -send me them to darn every week. Aldershot will be terribly hard on -socks.” She looked at the clock, following the direction of Jim’s eyes. -“I know it’s time you were off,” she said, straightening her shoulders -and looking at them with a little smile. - -David Linton watched the tall young forms dive into the throbbing taxi. -It darted off among the traffic, and he went back to their sitting-room. -There was a hint of age in his face. - -“Well, little mate?” he said. - -Norah sat on the hearthrug, and leaned her head against his knee. They -fought their loneliness together. And since the fight was for each -other, they succeeded. - -“It’s a big thing,” the father said, presently. “I’m glad they’re not -out of it, Norah, whatever comes. Please God we’ll get them back—but if -we don’t, we’ll know they did their best. It’s not a bad cause for -pride—to do their best, in a big thing.” - -He was silent, his hand on Norah’s hair. - -“We’ll always have that,” she said. - -“Yes—always. Only it’s a bit hard on you, Norah. You have always been -such mates.” - -Norah found his hand and put her cheek against it. - -“We’re all mates—always—no matter what happens,” she said. “Don’t you -worry about me, Daddy—I’ve got my job.” - - - - -[Illustration: “He brought his heels together with a click.”] - - _From Billabong to London_] [_Page_ 310 - - THE END. - - London: Ward, Lock & Co., Limited. - - - - - The Wonder Book - - A PICTURE ANNUAL - FOR BOYS AND GIRLS - - Crown 4to, Picture Boards, 3s. net. In handsome Cloth Gilt - Binding, 4s. net. Twelve Coloured Plates. 264 Pages. - Hundreds of Illustrations. - -From the first issue of this favourite Annual the constant aim has been -to present for the delight and entertainment of the little ones THE -BEST, AND ONLY THE BEST, in picture, verse, and story. THE COLOURED -PLATES are all dainty works of art. The full-page and other tinted -drawings in the text number several hundreds, making the volume the most -sumptuous gift book for children issued at a moderate price. - - THE CHILDREN _WILL_ HAVE IT! - -The stories and verses—all by favourite writers—include fairy tales, -incidents of home and school life, stories of birds and animals, -adventures by land and sea, and quaint rhymes and jingles, and they have -the rare merit of appealing to children of all ages and conditions. - -All young folk agree that there is =No Present for Christmas or the -Birthday to equal the Wonder Book=. - - WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED, LONDON, E.C. - - - - - The Wonder Book - Series - - (Uniform with - the Wonder Book) - - - Each Crown 4to, Picture Boards, 3s. net. In handsome Cloth - Gilt Binding, 4s. net. Twelve to Sixteen Coloured Plates. - 264 Pages. Over 300 Illustrations. - -These are _not_ annuals, but gift books appropriate to every season of -the year and to every occasion—birthdays, prize-givings, Christmas, -etc. - - The - Wonder - Book of Soldiers - -Now that the Army is practically the Nation, and there is scarcely a -family some members of which are not serving with the Colours, this -popular volume should be in greater demand than ever. By general consent -it gives a better idea of life in the Army, both in Peace and War, than -any other book of its kind. Nearly all its numerous articles have been -written by officers and soldiers and corrected by high military -authorities, and there are hundreds of pictures representing every phase -of Army life and all branches of the Service. The Defence Forces of the -Empire and their part in the great struggle for freedom are also -described, and there are interesting accounts of the great Continental -Armies. The book is a veritable mine of entertainment and instruction, -both for young people and their seniors. - - The - Wonder - Book of Ships - -is intended first of all for young people. No more fascinating volume -could be placed in the hands of boy or girl. - -But it appeals equally to an older public, for it is The Story of our -National Heritage, and presents as no other volume has attempted to do a -faithful picture of the BRITISH NAVY and the BRITISH MERCANTILE MARINE -as they exist to-day. Hence in these stirring times it is of the -greatest interest to every English-speaking man and woman, whether at -home or abroad. - - The - Wonder - Book of Railways - -is a great favourite with all boys and girls who are “keen” on railways, -and even the more elderly “season” holder will find in it much that will -amuse and interest. Scores of chatty articles about engines, signals, -tunnels, and so on are mingled with merry rhymes and anecdotes and -thrilling stories of railway adventure. In addition to over 300 -illustrations there are TWELVE COLOURED PLATES, beautifully reproduced, -representing some of the most famous of the world’s trains. The interest -is not confined to Great Britain, for there are also pictures and -articles concerning railways in Australia, Canada, the United States, -and elsewhere. - - The - Wonder - Book of Animals - -All children who love animals—are there any who do not?—hail this -handsome volume with delight. - -At a time when Nature-study in all its branches is so wisely encouraged -in our schools, such a book forms the surest means of promoting lifelong -interest in the subject. The services of some of the leading naturalists -of the day have been enlisted, and amusement and instruction are so -interwoven that, while it can be truthfully said there is not a dull -page in the book, it is equally true that there is not a useless one. -THE BOOK OF ANIMALS is suited to children of all ages. - - The - Wonder - Book of Children - OF ALL NATIONS. - -Just the book that the times demand. The War has taught us all the -importance of knowing more of the ways of life and modes of thought of -other peoples, especially of those gallant Allies who have stood by us -in the fight for freedom. The articles, though brimful of information, -are brightly written and as thrilling as any story, while the -ILLUSTRATIONS are absolutely unique in their variety and interest, -having been garnered from every quarter of the globe. There are 12 -beautiful COLOURED PLATES by eminent artists. - - The - Wonder - Book of Empire - -Recent events and pending developments alike render it of the utmost -importance that we should know more of the lands under the Union Jack, -of their peoples and resources, their wonders and attractions. -Especially is it important that the children of all parts of the Empire -should realise how glorious is their heritage. In addition to over 300 -illustrations, the book has 16 pages of COLOURED PLATES, including the -Arms and Badges of the principal Dominions, and a specially-drawn Map of -the Empire. - - A - Charming Colour Book - FOR CHILDREN. - - ALICE’S ADVENTURES - IN WONDERLAND - - Large Crown 8vo. Cloth Gilt. 340 Pages. - Handsome Binding Design with Pictorial Wrapper - and Endpapers. 3_s._ 6_d._ _net._ - - 48 COLOURED PLATES - By MARGARET W. TARRANT. - -=THE= edition of Lewis Carroll’s immortal masterpiece. Alice and the -whimsical company she meets in the course of her adventures have been -presented in many guises, but never has an artist so successfully -conceived the characters from a child’s point of view, or given more -happy expression to the sly humour and mock seriousness of the story. -With no fewer than 48 pages of Coloured Plates, this daintily produced -volume is easily superior to editions published at three or four times -the price. - - OTHER - Charming Colour - - WARD, LOCK & CO.’S BOOK OF - Nursery Rhymes - - Large Crown 8vo. Cloth Gilt, 340 Pages. - Handsome Binding Design with Pictorial Wrapper - and Endpapers. 3_s._ 6_d._ _net._ - - 48 COLOURED PLATES - By MARGARET W. TARRANT - -Not since the days of Kate Greenaway have the old Nursery favourites -been so daintily presented. Indeed, many will prefer Miss Tarrant’s -renderings for their more playful fancy, greater delicacy of colouring, -and richer variety of costume. - -Little Jack Homer, Jack Sprat, Tom Tucker, Old King Cole, and their -illustrious company are all here, and in addition are many less-known -pieces and a few modern rhymes of proved popularity. - -The type is large and well arranged, and by means of the full Index of -First Lines any rhyme can be found in a moment. - - Books for Children - - WARD, LOCK & CO.’S BOOK OF - FAIRY TALES - - Large Crown 8vo. Cloth Gilt. 360 Pages. - Handsome Binding Design with Pictorial Wrapper - and Endpapers. 3_s._ 6_d._ _net._ - - 48 COLOURED PLATES - By MARGARET W. TARRANT - -A companion volume to the Book of Nursery Rhymes, which has already -achieved such popularity. Here again are all the immortals—old and yet -ever new—Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, The Sleeping Beauty, Puss in -Boots, Jack the Giant-Killer, the redoubtable Bluebeard, and a host of -others. The text has been carefully edited in such a way that the -youngest child can understand and enjoy the stories. - -With these volumes, or either of them, at hand neither Mother nor Nurse -need fear a dull day in the playroom. - -As Birthday or Christmas Gifts for little people they are certain of -warm appreciation. - - A - Beautiful Gift Book. - - BIBLE STEPS FOR - CHILDREN - - With 8 Coloured Plates and 16 Reproductions - of some of the most Beautiful Pictures in - Sacred Art. - - - Large Crown 8vo. =2/6= NET. - -The sacred stories are here re-told in simple and reverent language -easily intelligible to young people. Sunday School teachers and others -will find this a most useful Gift Book. - -In the rush of modern life, and with minds blunted by much scanning of -books and newspapers, we are apt to forget that a little child comes -fresh to the Bible, and that the old, old stories make their appeal to -him in all their majestic simplicity. If left to himself, uninfluenced -by companions and older friends, he will frequently express a preference -for such a story as that of Joseph and his brethren, or David and -Goliath, to the most attractive of modern efforts. All that is necessary -is to disentangle the stories from extraneous wrappings and to let them -tell themselves. As an introduction to the Greatest of Story Books this -volume will be found invaluable. - - Stories by - - ETHEL TURNER - - - Large Crown 8vo, Fully Illustrated, Cloth Gilt, 2s. 6d. - -“MISS ETHEL TURNER is Miss Alcott’s true successor. The same healthy, -spirited tone is visible, which boys and girls recognised and were -grateful for in ‘Little Women’ and ‘Little Men,’ the same absence of -primness, and the same love of adventure.”—_The Bookman._ - - _NEW VOLUME_ - - JOHN OF DAUNT - - With 6 Illustrations by - - HAROLD COPPING. - -Child characters when realistically portrayed in fiction, as Miss Turner -alone can picture them, have always the same attraction as their living -counterparts would have, did they exist. Everyone knows Miss Turner -always writes well, but the publishers have no hesitation in claiming -that in “John of Daunt,” she is seen at her best. Her titular character -is as charming, original, and lovable as any the author has ever -conceived, and the book should add much to her reputation. - - Stories by - - ETHEL TURNER - - - Large Crown 8vo, Fully Illustrated, Cloth Gilt, 2_s._ 6_d._ - - SEVEN LITTLE AUSTRALIANS. - THE FAMILY AT MISRULE. - THE LITTLE LARRIKIN. - MISS BOBBIE. - THE CAMP AT WANDINONG. - THREE LITTLE MAIDS. - STORY OF A BABY. - LITTLE MOTHER MEG. - BETTY AND CO. - MOTHER’S LITTLE GIRL. - THE WHITE ROOF-TREE. - IN THE MIST OF THE MOUNTAINS. - THE STOLEN VOYAGE. - FUGITIVES FROM FORTUNE. - THE RAFT IN THE BUSH. - AN OGRE UP-TO-DATE. - THAT GIRL. - THE SECRET OF THE SEA. - THE APPLE OF HAPPINESS. - FAIR INES. - THE FLOWER O’ THE PINE. - THE CUB. - PORTS AND HAPPY HAVENS. (3_s._ 6_d._) - - STORIES BY - - Mary Grant Bruce - - Large Crown 8vo, Fully Illustrated, Cloth Gilt, =2=s. =6=d. - - - JIM AND WALLY. - -Mrs. Bruce writes with a freedom and grace which must win hosts of -readers, and there is a loveableness about her Australian youths and -maidens which makes one never tired of their healthy and sociable views -of life. - - A LITTLE BUSH MAID. - -“It is a real pleasure to recommend this story to Australian -readers.”—_Perth Western Mail._ - - MATES AT BILLABONG. - -“The incidents of station life, its humours, festivities, and mishaps, -are admirably sketched in this vivid narrative.”—_Adelaide Register._ - - TIMOTHY IN BUSHLAND. - -“The writer understands all about the wonders of the Australian bush, -its wild horses, kangaroos, wombats, and infinitely various natural -life.”—_Daily Telegraph._ - - GLEN EYRE. - -“‘Glen Eyre’ is a great advance upon anything we have read of Mrs. -Bruce’s earlier work. An admirable story exquisitely told, full of -gentle pathos, and ringing true all through.”—_The Sportsman._ - - NORAH OF BILLABONG. - -“The story is written in a refreshing and lovable manner, which makes -instant appeal, and we are quite sure the authoress will be asked for -still ‘more Norah’.”—_Manchester Courier._ - - GRAY’S HOLLOW. - -“A story always healthy and enjoyable in its sympathetic delineation of -unsophisticated nature in both scenery and human beings.”—_The -Scotsman._ - - FROM BILLABONG TO LONDON. - -“The story has many more incidents than Mrs. Bruce’s earlier books, and -though her style is quiet and matter-of-fact, she does succeed in -infusing reality into her exciting episodes.”—_The Melbourne Argus._ - - CHARMING STORIES BY - - Isabel M. Peacocke - - Fully Illustrated, Crown 8vo, =3=s. =6=d. - - - MY FRIEND PHIL - - With Six Illustrations in Colour by MARGARET W. TARRANT. - -“QUEENSLAND TIMES.”—“A really delicious book . . . without doubt it is -far and away the best book since Ethel Turner took the reading world by -storm with her ‘Seven Little Australians.’ Phil is an eternal -questioner, quizzer and actor. He is no white-haired Willie, but a -natural, frank, unconventional young imp, who carries a golden heart and -withal is a perfect gentleman. There is no laying down this book when -opened until the end is reached, be the reader young or old.” - - DICKY, KNIGHT-ERRANT - - With Six Illustrations by HAROLD COPPING. - -MISS PEACOCKE is a new writer, who attracted attention last year by the -publication of a phenomenally successful story entitled “My Friend -Phil,” which has been recently dramatised, and also produced as a cinema -play. It is far and away the best book since Ethel Turner took the -reading world by storm with “Seven Little Australians.” The tale was -droll, sympathetic, bright and full of literary charm. All the author’s -fine qualities are reproduced in “Dicky, Knight-Errant,” the story of a -delightful scamp of a Boy-Scout, who flits through a love romance like -Cupid, and will cheer the hearts of young and old alike. The story is -brim full of excitement and jollity, and is altogether sweet. - - The Little Wonder - Books - - Medium 16mo, Picture Boards. =1=s. =0=d. - -The many children in all parts of the world who have grown accustomed -year by year to look for THE WONDER BOOK as the most welcome feature of -Christmas or the birthday will learn with interest that the big WONDER -BOOK has now some little brothers and sisters. THE LITTLE WONDER BOOKS -are not for big boys and girls at all; they are the little ones’ very -own. Each booklet contains about Thirty Illustrations in Colour, printed -on the very best art paper, and the type is so large and clear that it -will not baffle even the tiniest toddler. Best of all, the stories are -real stories, such as little people love and learn by heart almost -without knowing they do so. - - 1. BOBBY BUN AND BUNTY. - 2. THE BROWNIES’ BIRTHDAY. - 3. APPLE TREE VILLA. - 4. TIM TUBBY TOES. - 5. MOTHER GOOSE: Nursery Rhymes. - 6. TICK, TACK AND TOCK. - 7. BULLY BOY. - 8. ROBBIE AND DOBBIE. - 9. THE ANIMAL A.B.C. - 10. BEN BO’SUN. - 11. THE TOY SOLDIERS. - 12. BUBBLE AND SQUEAK. - 13. OLD NOT-TOO-BRIGHT AND LILYWHITE. - 14. THE GOBLIN SCOUTS. - - C. G. D. Roberts’ - - NATURE BOOKS - - - Large Crown 8vo. Cloth Gilt. 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