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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f37b977 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63238 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63238) diff --git a/old/63238-0.txt b/old/63238-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 43a8db7..0000000 --- a/old/63238-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8558 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Pelican Pool, by Sydney De Loghe - -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: Pelican Pool - A Novel - -Author: Sydney De Loghe - -Release Date: September 19, 2020 [eBook #63238] -[Most recently updated: October 30, 2021] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PELICAN POOL *** - - - - -+-------------------------------------------------+ -|Transcriber's note: | -| | -|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. | -| | -+-------------------------------------------------+ - - -PELICAN POOL - -A NOVEL -BY -SYDNEY DE LOGHE - -Author of -"The Straits Impregnable" - -[Illustration: Decoration] - -SYDNEY -ANGUS & ROBERTSON LTD. -1917 - - -Printed by -W. C. Penfold & Co. Ltd., 183 Pitt Street, Sydney -for -Angus & Robertson Ltd. - - -TO - -M. L. - -WHO, AT SUCH A PLACE AS SURPRISE, HAS -BORNE THE HEAT AND BURDEN OF THE DAY - - - - -CONTENTS - -Chapter Page - I. WHERE TO FIND SURPRISE VALLEY CAMP 1 - - II. HOW THEY PASS THE EVENING AT SURPRISE 10 - - III. PELICAN POOL 37 - - IV. KALOONA RUN 54 - - V. THE HUT BY PELICAN POOL 77 - - VI. THE COACH COMES TO SURPRISE 92 - - VII. THE RETURN TO SURPRISE 118 - - VIII. THE BANKS OF THE POOL 145 - - IX. HOW THE DAYS PASS BY AT SURPRISE 159 - - X. HOW THE DAYS PASS BY AT KALOONA 176 - - XI. THE PARTING BY THE POOL 190 - - XII. SELWYN HEARS SOME NEWS 205 - - XIII. THE JOURNEY TO THE POOL 221 - - XIV. THE HALT BY THE ROAD 233 - - XV. THE PARTING OF THE WAY 237 - - XVI. SUMMER DAYS 241 - - XVII. THE ERRAND TO THE POOL 250 - -XVIII. THE BOTTOM OF THE VALLEY 264 - - XIX. THE SELWYNS RETURN SOUTH 272 - - XX. THE FAREWELL BY THE HUT 282 - - XXI. THE COMING OF THE RAINS 296 - - XXII. THE MEETING BY THE RIVER 319 - - - - -CHAPTER I - -WHERE TO FIND SURPRISE VALLEY CAMP - - -Where the equator girdles the earth, the Indian Ocean and the amorous -waters of the Pacific have their marriage bed. Afire with the passions -of the tropics, excited by breezes from a thousand islands of palm, of -spice, of coral, of pearl, jewelled for the ceremony with quick-lived -phosphorous lights, the oceans move to each other, and mingle hot -kisses under high red suns and fierce white moons. They have begotten -many children; and one of these--the Sea of Carpentaria--leans deep -into the northern coast of Australia, and wears itself against a -thousand miles of barren shore. - -As a young girl, dreaming her dreams, spends affection careless of the -cost, so these romantic waters woo the stern northern land with warm -and tireless embrace. And, as a man, busy on his own affairs, cares -nothing for such soft entreaty, so the north land gives no sign; but -remarks in silence the passage of the years. - -Yet who shall say that passion has no place there--because a giant -broods, dreaming a giant's dreams? Who shall say--because long waiting -may have brought crabbed age--that the north land has not its sorrows? -Morose countenance it keeps, yet freely can it spend. Its pulse beats -no feeble strokes. Fierce suns travel across it, the heavens are torn -for its rains, its floods laugh at restraint, the drought is slave of -its ill-humours. - -Its face is rough with frequent ranges where scanty vegetation climbs, -where barren rock-faces catch the sunlight, and clefts run in, and -shadowy cave-mouths open out. Here the wallaby finds harbourage, the -bat hangs himself in the shadows, the python unrolls his coils, and the -savage stays a space for shelter. - -Its face is smooth with dreary plain. Stunted trees find living there, -and hold out narrow leaves to cheat the suns. The spinifex battles with -the thrifty soil, and porcupine grass weaves its spikes for the unwary. -Score of miles by score of miles the country rolls away, brown or red -where shows the bare earth, grey or yellow or smoky blue where the sun -weds the dried grassland, shining white where the quartz pushes out of -the ground. Through half the hours the sun stares from the centre of -the sky, the leaves hang unmoved, the grasses are unstirred: silence -only lives. The savage is dreaming of the feast to come, the kangaroo -has taken himself to the roots of a tree in the dried water-course. The -sun passes to the journey's end: life again draws breath. The kangaroo -seeks the tenderer grasses; the dingo rises in his lair to stretch, and -loll his tongue; the parrot screams from the tree-top; tiny finches, in -splendid coats, swing among the bushes; a brown kite takes high station -in the sky. Yet the waste seems empty, and the white ants only may -boast of conquest where their red cones rise everywhere about the plain. - -A belt of greener timber stands out bravely from the faded vegetation -to mark the river on its passage to the sea. To the parching waterholes -the pelican comes at dawn to fish and to pout his breast: snowy -spoonbills and divers splash in the lonely shallows. The alligator -comes up to sun himself; the turtle bubbles from the hot mud; and the -quick striped fishes play at hide and seek among the languid weeds. The -kingfisher busies himself along the bank, and with evening the ducks -push their triangles about the sky. - -The conquest of this northern land will bring the fall of one of -savagery's last fortresses. Already the outposts of South and East -press in. The ramparts are crumbling, and soon the gates must tumble -to a victor who never yet has been denied. The white man has turned -here his covetous gaze. Vainly the burning winds and angry rains shall -beat at the ashes of his first fires and shall scatter his first -solitary bones. The silences shall not fright him, nor the lean places -turn his purpose. Though he fall, yet will he come on again, for this -foe is fashioned of stern stuff. In ones, in twos, already he toils -over the face of the wilderness, seeking the kindlier ways for his -herds: in ones, in twos, he passes about the hills and watercourses, -wresting from their bosoms the objects of his avarice. Alike he invades -the sternest and gentlest retreats, raising his shelters to mock at sun -and storm. His long fences are breaking the distances, his beasts of -burden trample the virgin waterholes, his iron houses defile the hermit -vales. Not easily does he work his will. Lean and brown he becomes, and -his women grow haggard before their time. But children patter upon the -bitter places, and them the wilderness has less power to hurt. - -The Sea of Carpentaria woos the north land. The north land gives no -sign. - - . . . . . . . - -The mining camp of Surprise Valley lies in the folds of those ranges -which break the long plains of the Gulf country. Ten years ago it grew -along the bottom of a cup of the hills, and since that season neither -has waxed nor waned, being nothing troubled by the wilderness which -marches to the door-ways of its tents and humble iron houses. - -The traveller, by circumstance brought thither from the East, with ill -grace leaves his steamer at the coast, boards the casual train, and -presently finds himself jerking forward on the second stage of the -journey. He bumps westward for five hundred miles. He moves through -plains which--right and left--push into the horizon. The ocean has not -seemed to him more immense. A curtain of heat is about their edges, a -haze dwells about them. The clamour of his coming scatters sheep at -their grazing, alarms the kangaroo at matins, sends the wild turkey -into the taller grasses. For a night, for a day, for half another -night, he is held in thrall. He alone appears eager for the journey -end. He smokes, he reads, he eats: a dozen ways he sets himself to -hurry time. The cool of the evening takes him to the outside platform -of the car to reflect and watch the darkening of the skies--to remark -the first white stars. At such hour maybe he takes his lot in better -part. - -Sunrise renews the stale prospect, and the heated air of noon finds him -with sticky collar and drowsy brain. He dozes, wakes, dozes again. -Ever and anon the brakes grind, and the train jerks to a standstill. -From the window he looks upon a siding, where a platform of blistered -planks and an iron shed are emblems of railway authority. A dozen -stockmen and loafers of the township crowd the patch of shade, to -smoke and spit and await the train's advance. First to the eye comes -the hotel, beside it lies the store; and haphazard stand the wooden -houses, with iron roofs glaring back into the sun's fierce face. Never -a church lifts up its cross as of old the tabernacle made signal in the -wilderness. A dusty way leads into the plain, and along this presently -the stockmen will turn their horses. - -The second evening brings the journey-end. From his platform the -traveller sees a township's lights grow upon the plain--lights closer -and redder than the stars that meet them. The iron rails have ended. -Thankfully he gets down to stretch his limbs in the cool, wide night. - -But a hundred miles still frown him from the goal. With morning he -clambers into a seat of the mail coach--a battered carriage. His -luggage has been strapped behind. He sits solitary beside the driver, -who accepts him with easy familiarity. The reins run slack to the -horses' heads, and the five lean beasts draw him forward at even pace. -The dust climbs up and hangs upon the air. All day he rolls over empty -plain. - -The second afternoon brings the ranges marching from the horizon, and -by evening the coach rises and dips upon a see-saw roadway. As the -sun leans down to the horizon, the driver draws taut his reins before -Surprise Valley Hotel. Surprise Valley ends the coach journey--ends -the direct mail service--ends the bush parson's endeavors--ends the -travelling school-master's rounds--ends civilization--ends everything. -When humour so inclines them--which is seldom--the people of Surprise -Valley may walk from their doorways into the great unknown of the West. - -Fortune has given to Surprise the greenest fold of the western ranges. -Easy hills stand up about the camp, tracing a zig-zag rim against -the sky. The camp lies in the hollow, as in the bottom of a cup. It -clambers about the lower slopes, following the whim of the latest -comer. The hotel boasts a roof and walls of iron, that much boasts the -store, that much the manager's house. The staff barracks and the mine -offices equally are favoured. Wooden piles lift the buildings high from -the ground. Elsewhere stand weather-worn tents; and sometimes a bough -shed, thatched with gum-leaves, serves its architect as parlour. - -Towering over all rise the poppet-heads and bins of the mine. Goats -take a siesta beneath the scrubby trees, explore the rubbish heaps, -and clamber about the dump; fowls of more breeds than Joseph's coat -knew colours, employ themselves in the dusty places, or keep the shade -of the broken rocks. Here and there an optimist nurses a garden, and -finds reward in a few drooping vegetables. Goats and fowls peer through -the netting with evil in their hearts. This is Surprise Valley to the -stranger eye. - -Three score burnt men and a handful of shabby women here find living. -They dig for the green copper hidden jealously in the bosom of the -hills. From distant parts they have drifted, they stay awhile; again -they drift; but the camp endures, and the wilderness is powerless -to harm it. Forward and backward from the railroad, a hundred miles -away, the weekly coach crawls on its journey, keeping open the track -to civilization, and bringing such news and comforts as that world -has leisure to send. The mail bags disgorge stale papers; the driver -delivers stale news. Round and round turns the wheel of affairs. A -whistle begins the day for this community: a whistle ends it. Deep in -the earth the men labor with hammer and drill. Overhead the women bend -at their pots and pans, and peg the weekly washings under cloudless -skies. The children, untaught, unchecked, patter among the stones and -tussocks, and send abroad their cries. Summer follows winter. The suns -climb up; in season the rains roar down; the frost comes in its turn. -But the men of Surprise Valley dig always in the bowels of the hills, -and the women busy themselves about their doors. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -HOW THEY PASS THE EVENING AT SURPRISE. - - -The last week of October was ending. At Surprise seven red-hot days -had crowded after one another; six breathless nights had brought -men and women gasping to their doors. The seventh evening had seen, -an hour since, the moon come up, white, round and full, behind the -Conical Hill; and with the moon arrived a flagging breeze--not cold, -not even cool, but with life left to turn the narrow gum-leaves, to -move the tent walls and the hessian blinds on the verandahs of the -iron houses. The moon had climbed the hilltop an hour since, and now -was some distance in the sky. Falling with a broad white light over -the ranges, and no doubt upon the plain beyond, it found a way to -the valley holding the stifled camp. It picked out the iron roofs, -and discovered the trees, to make of their leaves bunches of silver -fingers: it counted the tents straggling down the distance, and on the -journey wove many patterns of light and shade. The stones in the bed -of the dry creek shone with polished faces. The white ball in the sky -numbered the panels of the yard, where the buggy horses--two greys, two -bays--stood reflecting on their fate; and it numbered the crinkles in -the stable roof. - -The breeze had moved several times down the valley, and as often as it -passed the people of Surprise turned gratefully in their seats. Mr. -Robson, shift-boss, found heart to swear appreciation and light a pipe; -Mrs. Boulder, brisk and brawny, reached from her chair to slap the -youngest child; and Mr. Horrington, general agent--unappreciated cousin -of Sir James Horrington, Bart., of Such-and-such Hall, England--pledged -again his lost relatives in whisky and a dash of water. The members of -the staff, telling smoking-room stories from their long chairs outside -the mess-room, re-settled for something newer and choicer. - -Two sounds were repeated, and helped to make the stillness live. They -were the stamp of horses near the creek, and the cornet of Mr. Wells, -storeman. The cornet player was feeling the way, with poor luck but an -honest persistence, through the pitfalls and crooked ways of "The Death -of Nelson." He had reached the thirteenth verse. The thirteenth verse -was the unlucky verse: unlucky for him, because he broke down, unlucky -for his listeners, because he repeated it. The notes fell slowly, -uncertainly, mournfully upon the night. As the fourteenth verse began, -Mr. Neville, manager of Surprise, swore with feeling. - -The old man of Surprise sat in the recess of his verandah, on a -full-length wicker chair, both legs at easiest angle, heavy walking -stick at hand, a glass at his elbow, a pipe in his clutch. The hessian -blinds, nailed to the woodwork, threw the place into gloom, unless -crevices let in a beam of the moon. Old Neville sat back in the -half-dark, a man of small and tough make, covered from collar to ankles -in white duck, with brown, wrinkled face, bristling grey moustache, -shaggy white eyebrows, and an aggressive manner. He was seventy; but -he was to be reckoned with still. Behind him, two canvas waterbags -hung midway from the roof, and the single small table, with the whisky -bottle and the box of matches on it, he had taken for himself. He put -out bony fingers for the matches. - -"Damn that wretched fellow! I'll hunt him off the place to-morrow." - -A girl and two men were his company. The girl sat between the men, and -the three people leaned back in canvas chairs. The nearest man, who was -dressed in riding clothes, was young--no more than thirty-five. He was -tall, and of a wiry make, and his skin was tanned. His face was clean -shaven, with a trace of temper in it, while he had the manner of one -well able to take care of himself. He gave his attention to a pipe. He -was known through all that country as James Power of Kaloona Station. - -The girl was dressed in white. She was not thirty years old, but the -climate had not spared her. She was not tall, she was rather slight, -and her face challenged no second glance; but he who looked closely -might find thought behind her eyes, and humour in her mouth. The -carriage of her head showed courage. Here was a girl with thoughts to -think and with dreams to dream. A girl with a stout heart, who would -be ready to drink deeply from the cups of joy and sorrow: a mate worth -winning. Maud Neville was her name, and Neville of Surprise was her -father. Just now, with both hands, she marked the fall of the cornet -notes which continued their troubled passage. - -The other man smoked a cigar in heavy content. He was growing -middle-aged and stout. He breathed with deep breaths, but the sultry -night excused him. A dark moustache covered his mouth. His face was -filling with flesh; and his eyes were cold though rather wise. Just now -he was well pleased with the world. He was John King, accountant of -Surprise. - -The girl spoke. Her voice was full of lights and shades. - -"Don't always be growling at Wells, father. He maddened me once; but -I have accepted him long ago. He will learn something else soon. The -cornet is new. He got it two or three coaches ago. Mr. King, do you -remember the concertina last summer? The heat unstuck it or something. -That's why he sent for the cornet. One day I asked him why he was so -persistent, and he put his hands on his chest very grandly like this -and said--'Miss Neville, it is in here. It must come out.'" - -The old man screwed up his face. "He can tell the flies that to-morrow -when he takes the track." - -King took the cigar from his mouth very deliberately. - -"Maybe we listen to more than a poor storeman--a lover, a poet rather. -Who can say? A lover whose beloved has wandered afar: a poet born -tongueless, whose breast must break with fullness. Then what do our -ears matter, while he finds relief?" - -Power laughed. "You're an amusing idiot, King." But the old man snorted. - -"I've something else to even up with besides that trumpet. Every man -jack on the place is doing what he likes with the water tanks these -last two months. They're three part done. There'll be a drought here -'fore the rains come, sure as I sit here, there will. I believe half -the women wash their brats in it. They've got the devil's impidence. I -watched Wells to-day carry half-a-dozen kerosene tins for Mrs. Simpson -and Mrs. Boulder. I'd have seen he knew about it, if I'd been nearer. -I'll fix the lot of 'em up yet. I'll settle them quick." - -"You'll have to ration them," Power said. - -"Ration them! I'll ration them till their tongues hang out. They can go -to the pub for a drink." - -A chair creaked in the dark, grunts followed the creak, and Neville got -to his feet. He steadied himself with his stick, and started towards -the door into the house. On the threshold he paused and looked round. - -"Ye know Gregory, the gouger from Mount Milton way? He was in at the -store this afternoon. Says he's struck a first class copper show on the -river. He was blowing hard about it there, and had specimens with him. -He was after gettin' a lot of tucker on account; but I settled that. I -may be wrong, huh, huh! but I reckon he wasn't long from the pub." - -"Where's his show?" King asked. - -"On Pelican Pool. He'll get drowned when the rains come." - -"He can have only just struck it. Nobody was on the hole a fortnight -back," Power answered. - -"Is the show any good?" asked King. - -"Bah! Of course not." - -"How do you know?" Maud cried. - -"Of course it'll be no good." - -"You don't know anything about it." - -King put his cigar in his mouth, and it grew red in the dark. He took -it away again. "Isn't Gregory the fellow with the pretty daughter?" - -The old man began to chuckle. "Huh, huh! I've heard more talk of -Gregory's daughter these last two weeks than of his copper show. If -the show is as good as the gal, his fortune is made. She's a fetching -little hussy." He wagged his head. - -"You've seen her?" questioned Power. - -"Three days back. I was down in the buggy looking at the pipe line. I -told Maud about her. She's something in King's way. I hear he never -misses anything." - -King shrugged his shoulders. "My name gone, you may send me along the -pipe line as soon as you like." - -"Ye'll have to look sharp. Half the fellers on the lease know about -her." The old man chuckled himself into the house. - -"I want to see her," Maud cried. "Her fame has gone all over these -parts. They say she turned everyone's head Mount Milton way. Why are -you so behindhand, Mr. King?" - -"She has only been once to the store, and ill-luck kept me wrestling -with accounts. Afterwards I heard she had passed through like some -Royal Presence, moving so greatly every man under fifty that he gave up -work for the afternoon." - -"And," said Power, "my Mrs. Elliott's story is that Mick O'Neill, our -head man, has lost his head over her." - -King bowed reverently in the dark. "She must be wonderful--a poem of -golden words, a melody of diamond notes. She must be fit to rank with -those dead women generations of men have sung about. The Helen of -Homer: Deirdre, princess of Ulster, whom four kings fought over, and -for love of whom three brothers slew themselves: PoppƦa, mistress of -Nero, for whose bath five hundred asses let down their milk: a Ninon -de l'Enclos, who rode abroad on early autumn mornings, while the poor -brutal peasants covered themselves, believing an angel passed by. When -I go down the pipe line, I shall take my fly-veil with me that my sight -may not be destroyed." - -"You may meet me there, with or without a veil," said Power. - -"Don't count yet on going, Mr.-my-friend-Power," Maud Neville said. "I -must look myself first." - -"And now," said King, leaning heavily forward in his chair which -creaked out loud, "I think it becomes me to salute such loveliness." He -stretched a hand for the whisky and poured out a noble peg. - -A bellow came from inside. "Power!" - -"Hullo!" - -"I want ye!" - -Power got up. "I'll see what is wanted. But first our pledge." - -The steps of Power died away, and King and Maud Neville were left -alone. Nelson had died at last, and now the cornet asked, "Alice, -where art thou?" One or two crickets beneath the house accompanied it. -Presently King must have moved his chair, because there was a sudden -creak. - -"I am going to write a treatise on love to aid the beginner." - -"How many volumes?" - -King shook his head. "You mock me. You think because my heart is widely -proportioned, and because there are several little dead affairs stacked -neatly on upper shelves, that each of those visitors cost nothing to -admit, and that now one cannot be told from another. You are mistaken." -Again he shook his head. "Each of those visitors left its footprints -on the threshold, and memory can still find them in the dustiest, most -forgotten corners. No, hide your smiles." - -"Go on, you stupid, I love listening to you." - -"Love comes always in the same way, whether it be the great affair -that tramples ruthless and leaves us crushed on the road, or whether -it arrives with hammer and chisel, playfully to knock off a corner of -the heart. For love flows forward in a ripple of waters over which pass -sweetest breezes. So slowly it moves, so gently it rises, that one is -lost ere the danger be discovered. In the first sprays that dash the -drowner's mouth lie its best, its purest." - -"And after?" - -"Alas! the tide brings refreshment with it, and lovers wake hungry, and -what had seemed two shafts from heaven become a woman's eyes. And so -the descent to earth is trod again in steps of kisses." He held out his -arm. "Look at the moon slung there, a great silver platter! How many -thousands of us have cried out for it? Yet it is only a barren mountain -region, scarred and ugly. But we never learn this, because we do not -draw near. Love is a mirage. Love is the dancing of the marsh lights. -Therefore pursue, but do not draw near. For once you touch the shining -thing its glamour shall depart, and as the millstone of satiation it -shall hang about your neck." - -"But I understand you never practise your preaching." - -"I am too eager in pursuit. I blunder on the shining thing, and then--" -He shrugged his shoulders with infinite regret. - -Maud Neville joined her hands behind her head. She frowned the least -little bit. She spoke in a hurry. - -"No, that's not love. That's anything you like; but it isn't love. Love -is quite a different thing. Listen to me. Love is the eye that takes -no sleep, the foot that knows no stony road, the heart that bleeds and -feels no wound, the brain that always understands." - -"I see," King said. - -A second time they had nothing to say. As they sat thus, the breeze -journeyed again down the valley. It stirred the hessian blinds against -the fly-proof netting. It came through the open doorway at the verandah -end, and moved the water-bags behind Neville's empty chair. The two -opened their arms to it. It must have brought charity to the heart of -Mr. Wells, for he packed up his cornet for the night: and it may have -touched King's tongue with eloquence. Soon it had gone by. But King got -up and walked to the doorway to throw away his dead cigar. He stood -there some while looking over the country, and the moonbeams revealed -him a stout man, past first youth. Maud Neville fell to examining him. -Now the cornet no more made plaint, complete silence waited on the -night. Something moved her to break the spell. - -"How still it is," she said. "How empty!" - -The man at the doorway did not turn round; but he looked out into the -open as though proving her words. "Still?" he said. His tongue strings -were loosened. "Empty?" He pointed his hand. "Up there, this way, that -way, hear the roar of worlds rolling through the crowded ways of space. -Hear the bellowings of the furnaces, the shrieks of passage, the crash -of collision! Worlds are growing fiery there, worlds are growing cold. -Worlds are dying there. Worlds are finding new birth. The Angel of Life -and his assistant the Angel of Death take no rest. - -"Lift up your veil, O Night, for we would look in. - -"Yes, joy is here, and sorrow is here; hunger is here and repletion is -here; sin is here and righteousness here: hope and despair, love and -hate, anger and forgiveness--all are here. - -"The young lion roars in his triumph, and the old toothless lion has -missed his kill. The nightingale sings from the cypress; and the mouse -is squeaking where the owl swooped down. In a hundred jungles the -beast of prey fills himself; and in haunts of men the ravenous are -abroad also. The lover cries that the couch is waiting, and in the -shadow lurks the assassin. Where men are dying, mothers stand weeping; -and mothers are writhing where men are being born. The student, pale -with learning, trims his lamp and asks for the night to continue; -and the tempest-torn mariner is praying for the dawn. The youngster -smiles at his rosy dreams; and round his father breaks the shock of -battle. The rich man toys with his heaped meats: and to a fireless -garret has crept the pauper. The statesman toils in his chamber; and -the well-dined burgher turns in his sleep. Age pulls the coverlet over -a bony breast; and in the halls of vice youth spends its strength. -In solitude the shepherd guards his flock; and in retreat no less -lonely the miser counts his gold. And hairs are greying, and eyes are -dimming, and babes are crowing. And voices are laughing, and voices are -scolding, and voices are sobbing. How empty the night is? How still the -night is? No! How crowded! How deafening!" - -King came to a full stop. His hand fell to his side. He did not turn -round, and presently he lit another cigar with irritating calm. All -the while, the girl had not stirred in her chair. At last King moved -from the doorway, and at the same time Neville sounded his stick in the -house. He appeared on the verandah with Power behind. The old man was -chuckling to himself and holding out some keys. - -"Huh, huh! I may be wrong; but I think I'll settle that little crowd. -See these? For the tanks. See 'em? I'll be along and fix them up right -away. To-morrow you can watch them line up with their tongues out. Old -Horrington can live on whisky for a while. It's done him before to-day. -Mrs. Johnson can wash in last week's water. It'll make good soup for -the baby. He, he! Huh, huh, huh!" - -"What are you going to do, Father?" - -"Lock the tanks, of course. What d'ye think I mean to do? Drink 'em -dry?" - -"You can't do that." - -"Can't? I may be wrong, but I reckon I can." He wagged his head; and -next gripped his stick and began to stamp down the verandah, but half -way brought up short with a second nod. "Moon or no moon," he said, "I -shall do better with a lantern where I'm going." He went indoors again. - -At the same time King pulled out a watch. "I'll get back." - -Maud from her chair called out to him. "Already, Mr. King? It's not -late. Are you tired of us?" - -"The night is getting cool, and I haven't slept for a week." - -Power looked at the moon. "What's it? Ten?" - -"Twenty to. We may get a change out of this." - -"I don't think so," Power said. - -"At least we'll hope next week is better," Maud cried. "Let's wish for -a storm." - -"And after it the flying ants?" - -"Oh bother them!" Maud said. "Where's the romance of the wilderness?" - -King answered her. "Romance is somewhere just out of sight. Some day I -shall sit in a cooler country, having forgotten the taste of heat and -flies, and I shall start sighing for the old romantic days at Surprise. -And now for a nightcap before bed." - -"Mr. King, you are breaking rules." - -"But this is Surprise and we are in the last week of October. Much can -be forgiven when you live at Surprise during the last week of October." - -"The rule is three, and that makes number five." - -"Alas!" - -"Well, never again." - -King put down his empty glass. "Good night. - -"Good night." - -He went through the doorway into the open and down the steps. His -footfalls crunched on the bed of the dry creek. The return of Neville -overwhelmed them. The old man held a lighted lantern, and fumbled -impatiently at the wick. "Where's King?" he demanded, lifting shaggy -eyebrows over the top. - -"Gone home a moment ago," Maud said. - -"Er! I knew as much. He knows what he's about. I meant him to come with -me." - -"He's good company," Power said, settling again in the old seat. - -"I love him," Maud said. "One moment he makes me laugh and the next -he makes me think. I don't know yet whether he is a wise man or a -mountebank." - -"Where does he come from?" Power asked. "You said he was a solicitor, -didn't you?" - -The old man snapped down the glass of the hurricane lamp. - -"I heard tell he was a solicitor somewhere and got kicked out. As soon -as he touches money he can't go straight. He would sell his mother up. -Huh, huh! He's a gentleman to walk shy of while you've a few pounds to -spare. Go to him for a goat, and he'll sell you one of mine. He has -done business over half the fowls on the lease, though he never owned -a feather. He, he! I can't help respecting his abilities. He's got a -finger in most copper shows within fifty miles. The silly coves get him -to draw up their agreements, and he takes care that his name comes in -somewhere or other." Neville chuckled himself to the end of his tale, -then said, "You had better be away, Power. I'm going to bed when I get -back." He went through the door. - -"Take care!" Maud called out. - -"Er?" - -"Take care." - -A growl was her thanks. In course of time the old man had scrambled -down the steps and across the creek. - -"So much for our friend, John King," said Power. - -At Surprise Valley the rule is early to bed. First chop the wood and -milk the goats. Then soothe or slap the baby to sleep. After tea, -a seat in the doorway and a smoke. After a smoke, an exchange of -maledictions on the weather. The lamps in the tents begin to go out by -nine o'clock. The frustrated moths and flying ants betake themselves -elsewhere, and the mosquito sings a solo requiem in the dark. On cool -nights and nights of breezes, the people of Surprise put out lights at -even an earlier hour, for sleep is likely to prove kinder mistress. -To-night already three parts of Surprise were sleeping. To be true, -Mr. Wells was thinking of a last pipe; and Mr. Horrington, whisky -bottle at elbow, was cogitating a nightcap. Also, a light burned yet in -the latest rigged tent. Mr. Pericles Smith--travelling schoolmaster, -arrived here on his rounds--after chopping the firewood, hunting the -goats away, putting the kettle off the boil, and performing sundry -other exercises, was snatching a few moments with the help of a candle -at his monumental work on the aboriginal languages of Australia. -Nowhere else lights pierced the walls. The moon fell over high land -and low land, upon house and tent, and steeped in romance the dreary -prospects of the day. The Man in the Moon looked down on a fairy city. - - . . . . . . . - -I have brought you now to the beginning of my chronicle: I have laid -the stage and you are left with the chief players. The story is written -in a thumbed volume of the Book of Life, and it is time to lift down -the tome from its shelf. Look for no tremendous tale, for at Surprise -the day wags through its journey as elsewhere--sorrow tastes as bitter -here, pleasure drinks as sweetly, and the human heart beats time to -old, old tunes. Look for no great story then, for I have it not to -tell--you are to find two lovers, you are to have the history of their -loves, and learn how one was rude apprentice to the trade, and what -apprenticeship had to teach him. - - . . . . . . . - -The man and woman on the verandah had tumbled into their own thoughts. -But presently Power rose in his seat, and moved it beside Maud Neville. -He sat down again--he leaned forward and raised one of her hands. -Fingers closed on his own. "Kiss me, Maud," he said, in no more than a -whisper. - -He bent close over the girl. His face approached hers until he and she -saw each other clearly in the dark. They kissed with much passion. As -Maud released him, she touched his forehead with her lips. - -"I thought we should never be left alone. I was getting disgusted and -going home. I came with a lot to tell you. I was full of ideas, but you -were bent on avoiding me." - -"Poor fellow! As bad as that? You should have come earlier. I couldn't -get up and leave the others, you silly. Mr. King doesn't come very -often. What have you to say so important?" - -"Maybe I'm not telling it now." - -He was laughed at for his pains. "You want coaxing? Is that what's the -matter?" - -"This is it then. I can't wait longer. We have been engaged long -enough. I want you to marry me--soon I mean, this month or next. -Everything is ready over there. We'll choose a date to-night." - -"And you are ready for Father?" - -"He can't refuse again. We've waited so long." - -"Perhaps." - -"Then desperation will give me courage. Now for the promise." - -"I said nothing about a promise. You must think I am awfully fond of -you." - -Power leaned forward again. Their faces came close together. Her eyes -were wide open and looked straight into his. Fondness appeared in them, -deep as the sea. Power began again to speak. - -"It has become so lonely over there. I think about you all day long. -The house has grown miserable. It has turned to a graveyard. If you -appeared there, things would become what they were. You must marry me -soon. I have been too patient." - -He stooped and, in place of speech, he began to kiss her hair, her -face, her hands. Presently she put an arm about his neck, and kept him -willing prisoner. "What about your promise?" he said once more. - -She had not done with coquetry. "What makes you think I am so fond of -you?" - -"And don't you like me a little bit? A little bit?" - -"Perhaps a little bit." She put both arms about his neck. "My good -friend, you are everything in the world to me. My silly life begins and -ends in you. This great love of mine has quite eaten me up. Why, what -would I do without you. You came as a brand to a cold hearth and set it -aflame. Something in my heart sings now all day long." - -Passion came over them as a surge of the sea, as a storm of wind. They -bent close to each other, thinking no thought. Their breaths mingled. -Their hearts marked one time. - -At last she released her prisoner. Her eyes were shining in the dark. -She began to speak in a low, eager voice. She might have been a -messenger bringing glad tidings. - -"You will never understand what this love has meant to me. You and -I--we are different metals refining in the same furnace, and the fire -does not treat us alike. My life at last has become easy to live. It -is a simple and a grand thing. Think of Dingo Gap or Pelican Pool -without sun or flies. Wouldn't they be wonderful places? Well, I find -life changed as much as that. The little happenings no more have power -to annoy. My eyes are strong to see straight ahead. In all matters I -am undisturbed. This love of mine is a holy thing. It will brook no -meanness. It will stoop to no crooked ways. Something cries out in my -heart to grow and grow. I would bring you a wide-open mind. I would -offer you a body as beautiful as that girl we talked of half-an-hour -ago." - -She began again. "And now, my good friend--yes, you who look at me so -fondly--I am going to hurt you a little bit. I am going to tell you you -have brought me my moments of sorrow. For a long time now I have known -that your love and my love are of different kinds. Bad hours arrived -for me once when an evil spirit whispered that you did not understand -me, and therefore you could not truly love me. The whisperer said -Nature demanded you should go hungering after a woman, and there was no -choice but me. The whisperer said until you knew me, and demanded me -because of your new knowledge, that my affections were anchored in the -sands. - -"But I have pushed aside the whisperer. I love you, and that is all -that matters. For love knows nothing of hunger and unrest, of hope -grown old and other miseries. Love is the clear light, and those the -winds that wrestle for it, that are not of it and can never hurt it. -But you will not test my strength? Answer me. You will not test it?" - -"No, my girl. But your words could be kinder. I have no quick tongue -like yours to tell my tale. I know this, that I am weary of waiting for -you. Don't let us waste more of life. We have the whole world to see, -and when we have grown tired, we shall come back here. The old home I -am so sick of will grow beautiful under your care. I shall ride away in -the morning, knowing evening will find you waiting for me----" - -"Yes, yes, I shall be waiting for you, and you will arrive hot and -tired, and you will say 'I won't eat anything.' But I shall coax you. -And later on we shall sit together in the light of this same old moon, -which will have travelled round a few times more, and will have become -a little paler with watching. And we shall talk about olden days. And -then we shall begin to grow old together, and I shall count your first -grey hairs and--why, Jim, you are laughing at me!" - -"Am I? Then give me my promise, for I must go home." - -"What am I to say, Jim? You know I want the marriage as much as you -do. But father is an old man, and there is nobody but me to look after -him. He wouldn't think of giving up the mine to live with us. If you -like, we can ask him again to-night. Then if he says no, I shall stay -with him a little longer, and at last we must tell him it is our turn -to choose. That's fair, Jim, isn't it? No, don't look sulky. I am quite -right." - -"You won't always put it off like this? I am growing bad-tempered over -there." - -"You silly boy, you are only a few miles away. We see each other every -week. But we may catch father in a soft moment. We must find him after -he has locked the tanks. He'll be in such a good humour at the thought -of a fight to-morrow, that he may say yes. Let's find him now. Go away, -stupid, I want to get up." - -Maud rose to her feet, shook out her dress, and pushed her hair out -with her fingers. She kissed Power for the last time, and they went -down the steps into the moonlight. She ran ahead, taking little heed -of her footing. The stones in the creek were thick and rough, and she -trod them with quick feet while Power crunched behind. The stable was -not far away, and they followed the fence towards it. The horses stood -together with drooped heads at the lower end of the yard. All this -quarter of the camp was picked out plainly in the moonlight. - -A figure moved about the stable. It was Neville back from his rounds. -Maud nodded her head in his direction. - -"There's father waiting for us," she said. "Now Mr.-my-friend-Jim, are -you feeling as brave as you were?" - -"You must look after me." - -"Certainly not. I never pretended to be brave." - -"I shall find courage somehow." - -Old Neville's voice arrived. "Be smart ye two. You've been an awful -time. I expected ye gone long ago, Power. That fool groom has jammed -the door so as I can't get in. I'll let him hear about it to-morrow. -See if you can do anything. He, he! ye'll have to do something, or -ye'll go bareback home. What did ye want to come along for, Maud? Can't -you let him alone for a minute? That's the way to sicken a man of ye." -All three met outside the stable door. "D'ye see what I mean?" Neville -said. - -Power moved the door in course of time. The old man went in first with -the lantern. "Take the saddle and hurry up. I want to get to bed." - -Power carried the saddle to the fence. Maud had taken the bridle and -had gone in search of the horse which knew her and would stand. In a -little while she was leading it back. Power had taken his opportunity. - -"Mr. Neville, Maud and I talked things over to-night, and we want to -get married. You won't mind, I hope?" - -The old man was rooting with his stick in a corner of the stable. "Er?" -he said, looking up. - -"We're thinking of getting married," Power said again louder. - -"Have you still that in your heads? I told ye 'No' before. Here, come -here. Look at that fellow! I'll fire him off the lease before he's any -older. Look at him! Thrown it all in a corner. No, ye must wait. Ye're -both young, and I'm an old man. Goodness! look here! Maud's an annoying -girl, but I'd be put out without her. Here's the mare. Come outside -with ye. Maud, I hear you're on again about gettin' married. I won't -have it. Ye've plenty of time for that sort of thing." - -"You're not fair, father. You're not a bit fair. You won't listen to -reason. You never discuss anything. I'm not a child still. When will -you realize that?" - -The old man lifted his shaggy eyebrows over the lantern. He seemed -rather surprised. "Listen to reason! And you come to me when everyone -is in bed. Ye call that reason! It's just like you. Bah!" - -"Maud is right, Mr. Neville. You haven't been fair about this." Power's -temper was never hard to discover, and Maud frowned him quiet. The old -man looked at the ground, and scratched his head a moment or two and -wagged it. - -"I suppose, Power, ye'll be round in a day or two?" - -"I'm bringing cattle through the end of this week." - -"I'll talk about it then. Now be away with you. Come home, Maud." - -The old man of Surprise blew out the lantern and began the journey to -the house. Maud in meek mood followed him. - -"Good night, Jim," were her last words. - -"Good night," Power called back. - -Power saddled the mare, and let down the slip-rail of the yard. His -whip was coiled on his arm. In a moment he was mounted and had turned -towards home. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -PELICAN POOL - - -Kaloona Homestead lies distant from Surprise fifteen Queensland miles, -and the traveller by that road learns a Queensland mile is a mile and -anything you wish beyond. The red track runs all the way--over outcrops -of rock, across grassy levels and through dry creek beds, nearly to the -gateway of the homestead. Kaloona Homestead stands among timber on one -of the big holes of the river. - -All the traffic of the neighbourhood takes this direction, and keeps -safe the roadway from the teeth of the waiting bush. Once a week the -mine buggy journeys to outlying shafts. Out of the distance crawl a -pair of horses, an ancient four-wheeled carriage, two men seated up -there in collarless shirts and khaki trousers, a swinging waterbottle -and a following of dust. Once a month Mr. Carroll, timekeeper, armed -with revolver and sustained with thoughts of a peg at the farther end, -bumps along in the back seat of the buggy with the pay for the smaller -mines. Along this path the horse-driver bullies a groaning load to the -mine furnaces, and wins the plain by ready tongue and a generous hand. -His dogs shuffle in the shade of the waggon. The copper gougers come -in from labours in the far places, and follow the red way to store and -hotel; and the kangaroo shooter, astride his shabby beast, arrives -with empty provision bags from lonely hunting grounds. But commonly -you travel all day under a greedy sun, and meet none of these things. -The plain rolls away, and no wayfarer appears, unless there leap up a -kangaroo startled in his bed chamber. - -Power took the homeward road with never a thought to its emptiness. -He was no apprentice to the bush. He could read the signs of the way, -be the time day or night. Now a moon was in the middle of the sky, -the path was well trodden, a fair mount carried him, and the night -cooled--the journey would be done in the turning of his thoughts. He -rode with loose rein, idle spur, and seat easy in the saddle. Yet a -clever horse might not have got the better of him. - -The mare carried him at a fast walk, asking neither check nor spur. -Single tents, tents in twos and threes, and rickety lean-tos rose up -among the gullies on both hands, and quickly a score of them had fallen -behind. In none burned a light, and no greeting arrived other than the -quick bark of curs. A bend of the road and the base of the hill cut off -the camp. From now forward the journey would prove a lonely business. -The creak of a saddle and the brief pad of hoofs in the dust were to be -the song of voyage. - -Afoot or on horseback, Power was a wide-awake man. He saw most of what -was worth seeing. He could see, realize and do on the instant. But he -had his moments of reflection. He was aware of the tents, the lean-tos -and the rubbish on the ground. But he had fallen into thought before -going far on the way. Were he devout lover, now was the scene and now -the hour to delight in the virtues of his lady. - -He loosened his feet in the stirrups to the tips of his toes, and -lifted his hat from his head. A vague breeze moved across his cheek, -and he turned gratefully to it; but it was dead as soon as it was born. -Still, the night was cooling, and the plain was wide and free after the -verandah at Surprise. The moon had taken station in the middle of the -sky, frighting all but a few stars which gleamed wanly here and there. -She was a lamp to all that great red country--by day full of majesty, -now touched to beauty by her genius. The walk of the mare soothed him -strangely. - -Power was a man of fair learning and experience. He was a bushman -born, but the South had given him education of some width. He had had -a share of travel. He could remember other lands and fair cities. Men, -now forgotten, had rubbed shoulders with him; and one or two women had -passed in and out of his life with a few laughs and sighs. Seldom he -called them to mind. Maud Neville only had brought him to captivity. -Her brain was mate for his brain, her heart was mate for his heart: -there would be bonds to bind them when passion had passed away. - -His thoughts went back to her, where he had seen her last following -the old man towards the house. He found himself thinking very tenderly -of her. Soon now she would come across to brighten the old homestead, -and life would never be quite the same again. He must pull his habits -into shape. He must remember freedom would have to go in harness, and -the curb might chafe at first. He must be abroad at dawn and home by -nightfall, and give up this riding over the country as the humour took -him. The cattle camp must see him less, the hearth must see him more; -others could do the rough work, and they would do it as well as he. - -There came to mind the first time he had seen Maud Neville, a day -or two after the coach had brought her from the South. He had not -discovered her charm in the beginning. He put a high price on beauty -always, and here was a girl but poorly favoured. But that she made -the old man's home bright there was no denying, and now he walked in -willing captivity. He loved her, and she loved him almost too well. She -read him to the last word, while her own face was covered with a veil -which he had not the skill to pluck aside. She had said a little while -ago that he had much to learn in the art of loving, and perhaps she had -spoken the truth. His affection only had his spare time, and was shabby -exchange for a spiritual love like her own. Yet she seemed content. -Well, she should teach him in the days to come, and she would find him -a ready student. Just now he was on the way home, and to-morrow was -bringing a long day with cattle. There were other things for a man to -do besides making love. - -He tumbled back to everyday matters when the mare whinnied loudly. He -looked about him. He found he had been carried into the plains. Behind, -and on the left hand, ranges filled the horizon; ahead ran the dark -belt of timber which followed the river. Power guessed at it rather -than saw it. Pelican Pool was four miles away in a straight line; but -the road bent in a little distance, and met the river several miles -lower down. - -All at once Power grew alert. The sight of a riderless horse called for -more than a meander of thoughts. The animal stood a long way off in the -shadow of a small tree near the track. It was saddled, and the reins -hung to the ground. Power looked about the neighbourhood for the rider, -and quickly found him, spread out in the middle of the road. At once he -shook the mare into life and trotted forward. The horse under the tree -whinnied at their approach; but there was no movement from the form in -the path. At the last moment the mare took fright, and Power was hard -employed to bring her to reason. He jumped presently to the ground and -bent over the body. He found a heavy man in middle years lying on his -back, breathing with deep snores. It was a matter for proof if the -man were hurt; but there was no doubt of his drunkenness. A bottle of -whisky filled a pocket. The fellow's head was cut, and blood had dried -on it; but search discovered no other injury, and Power took him by the -shoulder and shook him--firmly at first, afterwards roughly. The snores -turned into chokes, the chokes became groans. Power tired of such a -tardy cure, and exchanged hand for foot. The fallen man opened his eyes. - -"Day, mate. Wot do you think you're doing to a cove?" - -"Are you all right?" Power said. - -"Right enough to stop a cove going through me pockets." The fellow -licked his lips. "It's flamin' hot, mate!" - -"Get up," said Power. - -"Wot's got you so blooming anxious?" - -"I found you on the road just now. There's the horse under the tree. -It's midnight. You'll have to hurry some to be anywhere by morning." - -"I'm stayin' here." - -"You'll perish when the sun gets up." There was a silence while they -looked at each other. Then the man swore, struggled a little and sat -up. "Have you far to go?" Power said. - -"Pelican Pool." - -"Are you Gregory?" - -"That's me when I'm home." - -Power lost patience. "Well, what the devil are you doing? Are you -coming or staying?" - -"You're a nice bloke to help a sick cove." Gregory came across the -whisky bottle. He dragged it from his pocket, and waved it in the -moonlight. "I reckon I've a thirst you couldn't buy; no, not fer -ten quid. Have one at the same time? No! I reckoned as much from a -long-faced coot like you!" - -"Get up," Power said, "and I'll give you a hand with the horse." - -The beast waited for Power to catch it. Gregory had found his feet, -and stood in the middle of the path looking at the whisky bottle. -He proved very groggy; but recourse to the bottle put him in braver -spirit, and he fell to cursing Surprise and all that lies within its -gates. - -"Here you are," Power said. "Go steady. I'll leg you up." - -It took trouble and a pretty play of oaths to bring about the lifting -up. The horse stood like a rock. Gregory swore his leg was broken; but -he gained the saddle, and afterwards kept balance in a surprising way. -Power, in no good temper, turned things over, and decided to take him -to the Pool. It meant a journey longer by five miles--bad luck which -swearing wouldn't mend. - -"Come on," he said. "I'm going your way. Shake up that beast of yours. -I don't want to be all night." - -He turned the mare's head to Pelican Pool, and she started the journey, -walking fast. The other horse kept company at a jog-trot. Gregory began -a rough ride. But he held his attention to the whisky bottle, and had -spilled a big part of it before they were a mile on the way. The empty -bottle was thrown grandly to the ground. As time went by he turned very -friendly. - -"I'll be showing you something in a mile or two--my oath! yes--the -best copper show in the Gulf, or in Queensland for that matter. There's -a fortune there, I say. D'yer hear me? I'll be driving my buggy and -pair yet. I'll be buying more grog in a day than that cove at the pub -sells in a year. No more blanky shovelling for me, you make no error. -I'll have all the buyers in the country there 'fore the week's out. Old -Neville down at Surprise, he'll be on his knees prayin' me to sell it -him. 'Ear me?" - -"I hear you," Power said. And with the last bit of good temper left he -added, "Are you far down?" - -"Matter o' thirty foot, and ore all the way. I tell yer I'll be the -richest man this side of Brisbane. 'Ear wot I say?" - -With spells of talk and spells of silence, they made the rest of the -journey. Gregory was more master of himself on a horse than on the -ground, and at the hour's end the travelling was done. Where they -approached it the river ran in the rains with a two-mile span; but now -the bed was dry and filled with stones and sand. Many mean trees grew -in this country. Over stones and sand the riders passed, and under -trees bearing in their branches the rubbish of forgotten floods. As -they went on, the timber became dense and grew to a noble size; and -presently here and there among distant laced branches showed the -surface of Pelican Pool. The water was lit by the light of the moon. -The Pool was shrinking every day; but it still covered a mile of -country, and its breadth was a fair swimmer's journey. - -"Where's the camp?" Power said. - -"By the castor-oil bush." - -Thereupon they inclined to the right hand. Large reaches of the Pool -were now plainly to be seen--very fair they showed in the moonlight, -with weeds trailing about the water, and here and there a large white -lily a-bloom. Small fishes leaped in the shallows. Trees leaned -patiently over both banks, spreading knotted arms. Now the camp came -out of the trees. Two tents were rigged side by side; and not very -far off had been built a room of poles and hessian. About an open-air -fireplace were the ashes of the day's fire. A dog tied near the tents -uncurled at their coming, and fell to barking with great good will. - -"We're here," Gregory said. "The old woman must have turned in." - -"Better quiet the dog, then," Power answered. "Go steady there. I'll -see you down." - -He jumped to the ground and threw a stone at the dog, which dropped its -tail and stopped barking. He held Gregory's horse, and Gregory climbed -down. The man was fairly on his legs, when a keen voice called from -one of the tents--"Is that you, boss? Boosed, I suppose?" - -"There's a gen'leman here to see yer," Gregory shouted. - -"Wot?" - -"A gen'leman to see yer." - -"Aw, blast yer, come to bed an' don't wake me up." - -"I tell yer a gen'leman's here." - -"Can't yer shut it?" - -"Gen'leman. I say. Gen'leman." - -A pause followed on this. At last the voice from the tent cried--"Get -up, Moll, and see wot dad's after. I've not had a square sleep fer a -week." - -"Aw," said somebody in the second tent. - -But in that tent a person stirred. Gregory shouted again. "Be quick, -Moll. Light a lantern. The moon's no good to me in these durned trees." - -"Wait a minute, can't yer?" - -Power picked up the reins and remounted the mare. He had had his fill -of the affair, and was riding away. "You're right now," he said to -Gregory. "Good night." The gleam of a lantern appeared through the -canvas of the tent. "Good night," Power called out a second time. The -tent door was pushed aside, and a girl came into the open, holding a -lighted lantern above her head. - -Power pulled up his beast. The girl that stood there was scantily -dressed. Her hair fell down her back. She was very near him, and she -held the lantern that she might look him over; but the rays of light -fell all about her own head and shoulders. She stared at him, not a -whit disturbed at the sudden meeting. - -A moment had brought Power face to face with the great experience of -his life. The girl's beauty was beyond any imagining. He sat astride -the mare with dropped reins, staring at her. - -There, in a broken tent, in that forgotten place by the river, was one -of those women who have commanded the tears and prayers of men since -the world began to turn. The girl stood with the light of the lantern -falling about her, with that in the carriage of her head for which a -sage would forget his learning, with that in her eyes for which a saint -would forego his hope of Paradise, with that in her form for which a -poet would break the strings of his lyre. To look a moment on her was -to grow hungry, to look long on her was to banish peace. - -For that most cunning work of a great craftsman was a chalice holding -the poisoned potion of desire; that rich body was an altar whereon -burned the fires of longing; that loveliness was doomed to linger as -midwife to men's tears. The spirit of all that is untamed made home in -that form, and beside it dwelt the spirit of all that shall not find -rest. And sight of that fairness brought taste of what man reaches for -and may not touch, of what man climbs after to fall from with bruised -knees. - -Her figure was quick and strong and supple; her hair lay about her head -as an aureole; her eyes were great and bright and deep; her feet were -slender and without blemish; her lips waited on the coming of some -supreme adventure. - -Quite suddenly Power found the girl speaking to him. She held her head -a little sideways and was looking over him. - -"Are you camping here, Mister?" she said. - -Power was startled out of his words. He sat up straight again. "No, -thanks. I came along with your father. I'm going on now." - -"We can give you a shake-down. It's no worry." - -"No, thanks. I must get home. I'm mustering to-morrow. Good night." - -"Good night, Mister." - -Power rode home at a foot pace. He thought of the girl all the way. Her -beauty had moved him more than anything he had known. - -Midnight had chimed at Surprise, and the camp was asleep. The party -telling stories from their long chairs outside the staff quarters had -been broken up an hour since in a last "A-haw." Mr. Wells had forgotten -his cornet, and Mr. Horrington, rather muddled, had found his stretcher -and blown out the light. Houses, humpies and tents were in the dark. -But outside, the pallor of the moon fell, making filigree work of the -leaves on the trees, and staring coldly into the eyes of sleepy curs, -which blinked back from their beds in the grasses. - -The camp was asleep; but one person had stayed awake. The slight figure -of a woman sat at the top of the steps leading down from the verandah -of Neville's house. She sat crouched up, chin in hands, so still as to -be unearthly. She had sat thus with hardly a movement for a long time. - -Maud had said good night to her father on their return. The house had -seemed stifling. She went into her bedroom, drew the curtains wide from -the window so that the room was filled with light, opened the door -leading to the verandah, undressed, and went to bed. For more than an -hour she lay awake, counting the moonbeams on the wall, and listening -to the song of the mosquitoes. Then she gave up pretence. She sat up in -bed, slipped a wrap round her, and crossed to the window on bare feet. -The night looked very charming outside, and soon she left the room, -crossed the bare boards lightly as a night spirit, and came to a little -balcony at the head of the steps leading down from the verandah. She -sat down on the top step, putting her naked feet on the one below. - -Yes, the night was charming out here--calm, empty and cooled by the -ghosts of little breezes, which fluttered an instant on her face and -fainted. There was pleasure in believing that she was the only one -awake. It was strange to look on this slumbering camp, bearding the -wilderness. She might have been a sentry watching that the hungry -bush did not devour it in the hours of night. This habit of keeping -the night watch had become a custom lately. The hour brought her more -profit than any other of the twenty-four. She was not hot and fagged; -she spoke the truth to herself; she could trust her judgments. The -calm watered her soul as a shower of rain, so that it swelled up, and -flowers broke from it. It was wonderful this growth of soul which -lately had been her portion, this serenity brought about by losing -herself in another. Sitting here, she told herself how thankful she -ought to be. Night was very kind, like some nurse who whispers her -child into sweet dreams. - -This comprehension of life, this sureness of decision, had all grown up -in two years. This renouncing of oneself that another might profit was -the fountain from which gushed the purest waters at which the spirit -could drink. Yet how many drank at that fountain? Instead, they sat -at the windows of their houses in the streets of life, and remarked -indifferently the pale faces glued to the panes across the way. Unless -it happened that someone, sick with the bloodless silence, broke down -one of those bolted doors and pushed inside, the faces sat always -staring down the street, and the winds of desolation sweeping down the -chimney at even, scattered the flames upon the hearth, and starved the -watchers at their seats. - -A good love was a wonderful thing, like the fire of the refiner, -burning away the dross and leaving the pure metal. She had found it a -philosopher's stone, making life golden, giving her humour to laugh -when her father was tiresome, leaving her proof against the little -annoyances of the day. And better than that. No shortcomings in the -man she loved caused her misgiving now. He was easy to anger; a little -selfish sometimes; he was thoughtless often. But love had brought -understanding of him, and understanding meant forgiveness. She blessed -him as she thought of him on his way across the plain, rejoicing that -she might serve him, thankful to him for the growth of spirit he had -caused in her. - -The little breezes sighed, fanned her a moment and passed on, a few -leaves turned on the trees; but she sat wrapped in the serenity of her -contemplation. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -KALOONA RUN - - -Power was abroad again before sunrise. Daylight moved over the country, -and he bathed, dressed, and pulled on his boots while butcher birds -called, and small finches bobbed and twittered in the bushes. As he -made an end of his task, the sun rose with menacing countenance. He -went outside, looked which way the breeze was, and next walked down the -track to the stable. He stopped at the door, threw it open, and cried -out loud, "Scandalous Jack! Hullo there!" - -At the back of the stable sounded a shuffling, and a small man, with -bristling beard and chipped yellow teeth set in a weather-worn face, -came out of the shadow, broom in hand. He stood in front of Power, and -put his hands together on top of the broom handle, spat carefully, -wiped his hairy mouth and shouted--"Marnin', Guv'nor. You're late." - -Power nodded. "I was late back from Surprise last night. I'll be away -after breakfast though. Did they get in the black horse?" - -"Aye, they brought him in yesterday. He broke from the mob and showed -Mick his heels for two mile. He's first rate--a bit soft maybe--and -as cranky as ever. Ye must watch him or he'll pelt you this side o' -the flat. Aye, aye, ye may ride above a bit, but I'm telling yer." -Scandalous jerked his head. - -"I'll look at him." - -"Come on then." - -The two men disappeared into the stable. They came to a stall at the -end of a row, and there, tied to a ring in the manger, stood a grand -upstanding horse, black-coated from poll to coronet, which met their -coming with ears laid down and a white flash of teeth. It was an animal -to fill the eye of any man. It stood at sixteen hands to an inch or so -either way, ribbed up as a barrel, with great quarters and shoulders -sloped for speed. Its head was delicate for all its other proportions, -but there was that in the eye to tell a man to go about his business -warily. It showed a fair condition for a first day's stabling. - -"Yes, he's pretty right," Power said. He called out to the animal to -stand over, and went to its head, and he had looked it all about before -coming away. - -"Mick got off with his lot?" he said. - -Scandalous Jack went on speaking at a shout. "Aye, they were away be -four in the marnin'. Mick says he'll be mustered and have the mob at -Ten Mile midday. You're meeting him there, Guv'nor, for the cutting -out, I reckon?" Power nodded his head. "Mick says to-night's camp's -going up lower end of Pelican Pool." Scandalous looked very wise. - -"What do you mean?" - -"Mick's doin' good work there." - -"You're a fool, Scandalous." - -"I may be that. Some fools see more than wise men with spectacles. Have -ye heard about the gouger's girl there?" - -"What about her?" - -"Mick's silly as a snake on her. They say she's a daddy for looks." - -"I'm for breakfast," Power said. "Give this horse a look over. I'll -want him in an hour." - -Power went to breakfast. It was ready for him in a low bare room, -with fly netting on doors and windows. One door opened on a verandah, -where creepers waged war with the climate. Mrs. Elliott, the cook, and -Maggie, the maid of all other work, had found excuse to wait for him. -He knew the sign of old, and prepared to be discreet. He nodded his -good morning. "Breakfast in?" he asked. - -Maggie answered with great good will. "It's been getting cold this ten -minutes." - -She was a handsome girl in the early morning, before the heat fagged -her. Mrs. Elliott, in middle life, ample and beaming, busied herself -briskly doing nothing, waiting to take the talk her way. The two women -attacked him together. - -"You must eat a good breakfast, Mr. Power. You've a long day before -you. You were very late abed, Mr. Power. You can't burn the candle at -both ends." - -"He's always late, Mrs. Elliott, when he comes back from Surprise." The -women shook their heads at each other. "And how was Miss Neville, Mr. -Power?" - -"She was very well, thanks. I must get a turkey or a wallaby. I've lost -my appetite for curry and steak half the week, and steak and curry the -other half." - -"And me so put about with the breakfast," exclaimed Mrs. Elliott, -twisting her apron. "All men are the same, ungrateful, every man jack -o' them. As soon look for gratitude from calves in a branding yard. -Now I suppose as Miss Neville she'll be turning over a date for the -wedding?" - -"You're learning too many secrets, Mrs. Elliott." - -"I know more than other folk already." - -"And that means?" - -Mrs. Elliott twirled her apron once more and looked wise. "I'm hinting -nothing. I know where Mick O'Neill goes of a night." - -Power tipped himself back in the chair. "What are you cackling over -this morning? I hope your news is fresher than last?" - -"What's he running after that gel for?" - -"I've not heard of any girl." - -"He's a good fer nothing fellow, and the little hussy's no better." - -Maggie took up the tale. "They're all stupid on her 'cos she has a few -looks. That's all a man wants." - -"They're not all like that, Meg. Mr. Power here, he has more sense. -He took up with Miss Neville, and though she's as nice as may be, her -looks are nothing out of the bag." - -Power said something under his breath. He went on with his breakfast, -and the women despaired of him. In the end, out of a full mouth, he -said:-- - -"You had better see Scandalous Jack. I'm too hungry for talking. He -wanted to tell me a lot this morning." - -"That nasty little man! I wouldn't demean myself with him. I told him -half an hour since I'd put a kettle o' water over him if he showed his -ugly face in at the door agen." - -The women withdrew routed. - -In a little while Power followed them from the room. Standing in the -verandah, he lit a pipe. His swag had gone on in the cook's waggon, and -there remained only a few minutes' office work and he might get away. -The old willingness to be in the saddle took hold of him. His heart was -in the cattle work. The longest day made him more ready for the next. A -good horse, a whip to his hand, the bellow of a mob in his ears--these -things kept his heart evergreen. - -Morning had come, the birds had whistled him from bed, the sun had -climbed up; but the glamour of last night had not passed quite away. He -found himself--and little pleased he was at it--he found himself more -than once waking to the day's affairs from dreams of a girl holding up -a lantern at the doorway of a tent by a river. - -Mrs. Elliott had forgiven the churlishness of breakfast, and waited -with an ample lunch, secure from sun and flies. He promised to be back -some day or other, took up a dripping water-bag and his whip, and -passed to the stable. The black horse, saddled and waiting, fidgeted by -the door, and Scandalous Jack was taking aggressive charge. - -Scandalous thrust up his hard face to shout a warning. - -"He'll be shaking yer up, boss, I reckon. He fooled me half an hour -'fore I had the saddle on him." - -"Wants a day's work," Power said. He looked over the girths and secured -the water-bag. All he did was gentle and cautious. At the touch of -the wet canvas the black horse snorted, reared up and swung about. -Scandalous, very fond of his corns, retired in a hurry. With voice and -a firm handling Power kept the beast in check. He had completed matters -in a few minutes. Whereupon he coiled the whip on his arm, and drew -together the reins. He went about the mounting with cunning, and when -the moment of moments came, was in the saddle in one movement. - -The black horse squealed, and its head went down between its legs as -a stone from a catapult. It came high off the ground, all four feet -together, in a great bucking plunge which tried all Power's skill to -ride. The ground fell away from him and spun about, there came to his -ears a great straining of leather, and he knew a fierce shock as the -brute went to earth. Instinct set him leaning back, with legs fierce -gripping and toes down pointing. Horse and rider went up again, with -a heave tremendous beyond belief, and there was an instant when Power -stared down at emptiness. They were down and up in one breathing, and -away with great bounds that threw them across the yard. A heave, a -thud, a grunt and a swing brought them about, and on the heels of it -they were going up into the air again. Down then and up into space -again, all four feet together, groaning with the effort, while the hot -dust streamed into Power's face. The rally was over in a dozen seconds, -and the horse stood heaving, and Power settled himself in the saddle. - -"Rough horse that!" Scandalous shouted from the fence. - -"He makes it too hot to last." - -"Don't take him cheap on that lay. He'll be rid of yer yet. He'll give -yer all you know one of these days, and I'm taking no odds on who's the -better." - -It had just turned eight o'clock when Power began the ride, but -already the sun was powerful, and the birds flagged at their songs. -He journeyed at walking pace, watching the horse carefully the first -few miles. Last traces of early cool were departing. A few threads of -gossamer shimmered among the spikes of the grasses, and blundering -hoofs tore them apart. A few feeding kangaroos sat at late breakfast. -The homestead moved behind the trees, and he and the beast he rode were -all that passed across the plain. - -He grew contented at once now he had made a beginning of the day's -work. As another man forgets his ill-humours in the counting-house, or -the library, or his mistress's bower, so Power turned for distraction -to his saddle and his whip. A bushman's heart was his birthright; -a bushman's cunning was the legacy of fiery summer afternoons on -horseback, and frosty winter dawns spent abroad. In the dreariest -page of Nature he found reading. His eye was quick to read the riddle -of the ways. The fall of a hill, the sweep of a dry creek bed, a few -patterings of passage in the dust--these answered most questions he -asked. In that country was no better judge of where to come up with a -mob of cattle, nor one, be it night or day, who rode straighter to a -point. He passed over the plain sitting easy in the saddle, pipe in -mouth, whip on arm, his head fallen forward, as a man sits asleep. But -his eyes peered abroad, and his brain was active. He rode to muster as -the knight of old rode to the tourney. - -His way led by a short cut through the ranges. The trysting place -lay just beyond. At a few miles end, he was entering a pass of -magnificence. The ranges lifted up on either hand, with mighty boulders -resting about their sides, and difficult caves--home of bat and -wallaby--opening dark mouths. The way took him below stunted trees, and -over brittle fallen boughs, and across stones which slipped beneath -the horse's feet. A second gully crossed the head of the pass, and -escapes led into the hills. Here was an old watch-ground of the blacks. -The difficult part of the journey had come. Power left the saddle for -the ground. The path turned left-handed, to clamber over a multitude -of rocks to easier country. In the rains a waterfall swirled this way. -Here and again here a pool of clear water was lodged in a basin of -rock, and above one such pool Nature had scooped a shelter in the hill. -Past tribes of men had left rude paintings on the wall. With snorts and -steadying cries the journey was done, and man and beast came out into a -wide timbered prospect. - -It was a fair spot to hap on in that desolate country, with a good -gathering of trees about a dry creek bed, and one or two late birds -twittering in them, and a muster of insects going about their day's -work over the hot ground. There were grateful patches of shade. This -was Ten Mile. At noon O'Neill had vowed to be at hand with the mob. -Power looked at the sun and guessed at ten o'clock. He turned over -whether to go farther; but a wait in the shade was better argument -than a ride in the open. He took the saddle from the black horse, and -tethered the beast in a cool place, and he himself lay down at hand for -a pipe and his thoughts. Presently a thread of smoke curled into the -hot air, driving away disappointed the flies which came in their hosts -a-visiting. - -It was pleasant work lying here in the shade with nothing to disturb a -fellow for an hour or two until the cattle came along, and the sunshine -heat finding a way into the shadow to make a man drowsy. It was good to -lie flat on one's back, blinking at the sunbeams through the leaves. It -was good, too, to suck at a pipe and watch the blue smoke go up. And -again it was good listening to the twitter of a few birds, and--opening -eyes--to see insects examining the ins and outs of the tree trunks. -It brought memories of other such lazy hours, snatched between a hard -morning and a hard afternoon. Give a man good health and work, and -there was little else he wanted to bring content. - -How the smell of the scrub lingered this morning. Ordinarily the sun -drove it early away. If he lived too long and became an old blind man, -he would get someone to lead him to a patch of scrub at early morning -that he might sharpen memory there. - -It must be hot in the open. The sunlight was burning him wherever a -break in the boughs let it through. He was a lucky chap to own this -great stretch of country, and every head of cattle on it, to have good -horses to ride, and to be his own master. No doubt there were unlucky -devils who never had these good things. A man knew little enough of -other men when all was said and done, and cared little enough for their -troubles either, if truth be told. - -Yet things were a shade out of tune to-day, pretend as he might; put -the feeling by as he would. Presently he sat up. With an oath, he -knocked out his empty pipe on a stone. He whipped himself for a fool. -He was a man with a mind of his own, he was in love with another woman; -and a girl twenty years old, who had not spoken a dozen words to him, -was taking up his thoughts all day. Ah! but she was the most perfect -thing he had known. - -The heat of the day came into the spot of his choosing, the sun climbed -into the sky, and he judged the hour towards noon. He rose to his feet, -pushed a handkerchief about his face, and grew busy gathering sticks on -a square of barren ground. - -There came through the timber, after many minutes, a far-off murmur, -such as might travel from a distant surge of the sea, or from a heavy -wind moving in a hollow. It was vague, and many would have been at -pains to pick it up; but the horse lifted ears to it, and Power came -out of his brown study. It arrived as a murmur; but the passing minutes -gave it volume. It was strangely exciting. Power knew it from the -beginning. It was the roar of a mob of cattle driven against their will. - -Presently the sound turned to broken bellowing, and into the tumult -entered the snapping of boughs, the bang of whips, and the fierce -voices of men. Power stood up. The mob must round the foot of a hill -before coming into view. He laid a hand on the horse's bridle and -waited for them. - -They came in a little while--one or two as a beginning, afterwards -the body of them. They dawdled forward, picking at the grass tufts, -horning one another, and lifting heads to bellow. They showed to the -eye a hardy, good-coloured mob of store cattle, the big part of them -six-year bullocks, more ready for a doze by a waterhole than for this -journey in the sun with men hanging at their houghs. They counted two -hundred maybe, and three white stockmen and a couple of blackfellows -handled them, turning them on the flanks, and hunting them forward in -the rear. They were a suspicion nervous, and gave Power a wide berth; -but the noon heat made them easy handling. By the time they were round -the foot of the hill, a stockman, pulling about his horse, rid himself -of their company and cantered across. The man pulled up a big chestnut -animal a few yards from Power, and showed a happy, handsome face under -a big brimmed hat. He was a good figure of a man, riding his horse with -a swagger. He had wide kneepads to his saddle, and long rusty spurs at -his heels, a shirt wide open at the neck, and in his hand a whip. His -skin was brown. Sitting there, he looked a hardy fellow, one to put a -good day's work behind him. - -He had pulled his horse up from the canter. "Day, Mr. Power." - -"Good day, Mick. They came along all right?" - -"Yes, boss. A strong lot. Good travellers. An' quiet enough too. We'll -make Morning Springs Wednesday certain." - -Power nodded his head. "Did you cut those few out?" - -"All bar a half-dozen. We can fix 'em at the camp to-night. There's -a roan bull to be dropped. I don't know how he came with this lot. I -didn't see him when we picked 'em up. He wants watching. He's cranky in -the head." So speaking, the man leaned over and pointed his whip at a -beast on the outside of the mob. "I suppose we're making camp here for -an hour or two." - -"My oath, yes. I'll get a fire going." - -Mick O'Neill turned his horse about and put it to the canter. Again he -made a figure becoming his name as the daddy stockman for a hundred -miles about. Power filled a quart pot at the water-bag, and built and -lit a fire. The flames rushed to embrace the hot wood. Others of the -company arrived with filled quart pots and pushed them into the flames. -The blackfellows held the cattle until they had drawn out and dropped -to their knees. The horses were unsaddled and unbitted. The quart pots -came from the fire. The tea was made. The sticks were trodden into the -sand, and the company took themselves into the shade, to sprawl there, -one eye waiting for the cattle, one hand waiting for the flies. - -They kept to camp through the heat of the day, and little was spoken -the while. They smoked and stared up through a lattice of leaves at -the lofty sky. The fierceness of the sun was spent when Power gave the -signal by sitting up. The horses were saddled, the men found their -seats--there was galloping of hoofs, a banging of whips, and the mob -flowed on the journey over the plain. - -It was half-past six in the evening and the sun was down on the western -sky, when the mob splashed into the shallows at the lower end of -Pelican Pool. Cleanskin Joe, the lean rusty cook, who had spent a busy -life darkening the doorways of most hotels in Queensland and New South -Wales, had arrived there early in the morning, steering a two-horse -buckboard loaded up with swags, camp furniture and tucker bags. -Cleanskin Joe had built his fireplace, had put his Johnnie-cake in the -ashes, had talked half the day with Jackie the black horse-tailer, -coming after him with spare horses. Now, with his stew simmering, he -cast a hundred glances into the distance for the tardy cattle. His -eyes, once quick to meet an emergency, were bleared a trifle from that -constant darkening of doors. But finally they and his ears could not be -deceived, and he peered into the camp oven and turned the contents with -a long-handled ladle. - -Now all the world knows that cooks from sheep stations give you grilled -chops and curry and stew the round of the year, and cooks on cattle -stations serve grilled steak and curry and stew until you turn aside in -sorrow; but Cleanskin Joe was a man of resource, and every breakfast he -chopped up rissoles, rolling them on the back of the buckboard where -had gathered the grime of ten years' honest service. Because of this, -and because too many whiskies had cured him of a love of water, either -for inside or outer use, he had won his name of Cleanskin Joe. - -He was a man of history. - -Once upon a time Cleanskin Joe and the Honourable So-and-so, both out -at elbows with the world just then, had found a copper show a round -forty miles from the nearest hotel. They woke up one morning on bowing -terms with wealth. They had broken a new lode going any percentage you -like of ore. They stared at it without a word to say. - -The Honourable So-and-so had a vision. He saw dogs and women and wine. - -And Cleanskin Joe saw the price of a whisky. - -And Mr. So-and-so saw horses and cards and more wine. - -And Cleanskin Joe saw the price of another whisky. - -And Mr. So-and-so saw freedom from the Jews, and green tables and yet -more wine. - -And Cleanskin Joe saw prices of endless whiskies. - -Then said Mr. So-and-so, "Our one chance, old man, is to miss the -hotel." Cleanskin Joe wagged his head. Said Mr. So-and-so, "We must cut -the waggon road to miss it by a dozen miles." - -They drove their road over rise and down dip, plying the tools with -right good will because of that vision. One night Mr. So-and-so would -say--"How about direction, dear fellow? Are we enough to the right?" -And next night it was Cleanskin Joe. "I reckon we're safe to miss that -blankey place now, holdin' left as we're doing." - -But who shall win when Fate plays hide-and-seek? On the hottest day of -the hottest summer in man's memory, they drove the road into a clearing -of the bush where the doors of the Drink-me-Dry Hotel leaned open to -meet them. - - . . . . . . . - -Cleanskin Joe blinked his eyes through the smoke when Power cantered -up. "Evening, boss. I was lookin' for yer an hour since. What time do -yer want tucker ready?" - -"Half an hour will finish us. There's a bit of cutting out to do. What -about a drop of tea?" - -"Right on the spot. Take care. It's durned hot." - -Power drank the tea, and urged his horse about. The bullocks straggled -from the pool where they had been drinking. Power had given orders to -keep the horses from water, and the cattle were rounded up on the way -from the shallows. - -Presently the mob was bunched. First there came a time of talking and -shaking of heads. At the end of it, Power and O'Neill worked a way into -the jumble of animals, looking this way and that for the half dozen -cows, and keeping a wide eye for accidents. The beasts gave them fair -roadway, backing over here and there with snorting and a sweep of the -head. "Here we are," Power said. - -He leaned a little forward and with a nice movement dropped his whip on -to the quarters of a red cow. On the instant the black horse answered -the signal. Power gave the reins to its neck and sat back with waiting -whip. Not far away O'Neill followed ready for what might come. The -black horse moved to the red cow's shoulder, and steered her with a -pretty cunning to the outside of the mob, nor lost place a single time, -though she twisted, turned and propped with skill. It was a game of -trick and shift to liven the eye of any man. She came presently to -the outermost circle, bellowing with nervousness and hurry. The black -horse was at her shoulder goading her farther into the open. She lost -her head and trotted a few paces from the mob, and that moment turned -the scales against her. As the black horse got into his stride, Power -let out his whip, and O'Neill came up behind with a hurry of hoofs. -They fell upon her with a scramble of blows. She bellowed, threw up her -head, tried to swing back to the mob, slipped, heard the bang of whips -about her ears, and took to her heels across the plain, with both men -at her tail. She showed them her heels for a quarter of a mile. "She's -right!" Power cried out. - -The last of the cows was cut out as dusk began to settle. There -remained only a few minutes to dark. "There's that bull yet," Power -said. He sat on a heaving horse, and lifted his hat from his head. The -men pushed a passage into the mob again. The herd was showing rather -nervous, and took handling to hold together. The roan bull met their -coming with a bellow and a shake of the head. But the black horse stood -to his shoulder, and the journey to the outside began. All the way the -bull showed little liking for the hustling, but his efforts to trick -the enemy availed him nothing, and he found himself of a sudden on -the outside of the mob, and a black horse urging him farther into the -open. In a flash he turned very ugly. It was the turn of a hair whether -he rushed or not. There was no waiting to add up chances, a wasted -moment meant his loss into the mob. Power brought his whip down, and -a long broad mark curled up in the smoking hair. The bull roared and -dropped his head. He was coming this time with no two meanings. Power -swept up the reins to pull the horse aside. Ill luck was at his back. -He found himself jammed in a press of cattle. He shook his feet clear -of the stirrups. He made ready with the whip again. He cut into the -bull again, and he felt the horse go beneath him, and himself falling -back into a huddle of bellowing beasts. With all his might he pulled -the horse clear of the horns. Horse and bull and he came down in a -scurry on the ground. He rolled clear of the saddle. He scrambled on to -a knee. He spat the dust from his mouth. And then the mob at his back -split, and O'Neill rode up in a fury, a whip waiting in his hand. The -bull was on its knees, jerking to its feet. A hurry of blows fell about -its face. It stumbled, slipped, and sprawled on its back. The whip -stopped falling, and a man jumped from his horse to the ground. With -great quickness he caught up the bull's tail, and thrust a foot into -a hollow of its hip. Thus he held it on the ground without any great -effort. There was shouting as the men called to each other. - -"Are yer orl right?" - -"Think so." - -"Can you get clear?" - -"Aye!" - -On the words followed a scramble of hoofs and a heave as the black -horse gained his haunches. Power was on his feet, and had thrown a leg -across the saddle. Another scramble, another heave gave the horse its -legs and Power a seat a-top of it. Power swung it to one hand with rein -and spurs, and leant far from the saddle towards the horse standing by. -"Let go when you can!" he cried out. "I have your horse!" - -The man on the ground sprang clear of the bull. He clapped both hands -on the arch of the saddle, and vaulted into the seat. Shaken, and -with lost breath, the bull found its feet, but it had not thrown the -sweat from its eyes before the whips fell on it with a cruel fury. Its -courage was no more. It took to its heels across the plain. - -"Close go that," O'Neill said. "Are you hurt any?" - -"No, I fell clear. You got me out of a hole. I'll do as much for you -some day." - -"All in a day's work," O'Neill said. "'Struth! I reckon it's time for a -pipe." - -Quite suddenly the night stepped into the shoes of day. Darkness -arrived in a hurry, and the stars pushed themselves out of the sky. -The camp was chosen, the first watch was set. The horses, hobbled and -with bells about their necks, moved musically into the shadows, the -little company found the way to the cook's fire. There was stew in the -camp oven, and a ladle at hand. A pile of tin dishes was on the ground. -The Johnnie-cake waited on a box, and the earth lay spread for a -table. There is many a worse roof than the sky offers, and many a more -restless bed than a mattress of grasses. - -Supper ended, and there came the hour when pipes are pulled out. Power -went out of the firelight presently, and listened to the mob getting -to camp for the night. There was a little bellowing from over there, -and now and then sounds of scurry, but nothing to cause unquiet. He -came back to O'Neill. "I'm going across to Gregory's for a while," he -said. "He was talking about a copper show of his. I'll be back for my -watch. I don't think you will have any trouble. Good night." He thought -O'Neill looked up over-quickly. "I don't think you will have any -trouble," he repeated. "Would you sooner I stayed? I will if you like." - -"There's no need, boss," said the other indifferently. "I didn't know -you knew them over there." The man began whistling. - -"So long, then." - -"So long, boss." - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE HUT BY PELICAN POOL - - -Power picked up his whip by way of company, and took the road to the -camp. The journey was done in ten minutes' time. The moon had not -risen, and he found the place in darkness, and from somewhere at hand -came the sudden bark of the dog. The tents were empty, but the hessian -building--a shabby affair--showed lamplight through half-a-dozen holes, -and sounds of movement came from inside. The gouger called out roughly -to the dog, but the brute barked on at full voice, backing away into -the shadows. Power brought his whip-handle down on the door-post. The -doorway was empty of a door, and he looked into a room lit by a couple -of lanterns. He had time to see a table and seats, knocked together -haphazard, and a woman of middle life bending over a basin at the -farther end. Then the opening was filled by the gouger, who peered out -into the dark. - -"Good evening," Power said. - -"Same to you," said the gouger. And he added with a wrinkling up of -his eyes--"I can't see more than half way through a brick wall in this -durned light. Anything up?" - -"I'm camping on the Pool to-night. You told me to take a look at your -show when I was round. I've come along on the chance. Maybe I've turned -up at an off time. In that case it's my own funeral, that's all. -Couldn't get away before." - -"So that's the lay. You're right enough. I'll fix you in a shake. It's -five minutes through the scrub. I can pick yer up a specimen or two -what's lying round about the shanty, if the women have let 'em be. But, -but"----the gouger began to lose his words and screw his mouth up and -finger his beard----. "Strike me," he said. "Strike me if I know you." - -The woman had left her work, and now peered over his shoulder. She -nudged him. "Yes, yer do, boss," she said in a heavy whisper. "It's Mr. -Power, of Kaloona--him as brought yer back last night." - -"You aren't getting at me?" said he of the beard in an aside. - -"Aw!" - -Then Gregory, the gouger, turned very friendly. - -"Mr. Power it is," he cried out, rolling the upper half of his body, -and showing his dirty teeth. "It's Mr. Power come for a look at the -show. My eyes haven't got the hang o' the dark yet. Come inside, Mr. -Power. I'm glad you found the way here, square and all I am." - -With something of a to-do the couple backed from the doorway, and Power -went into the room. Two lamps, placed high up, gave the light, which -was poor and depressing, and round about the globes beat frantically a -great army of insects. Power went into the room, and the close air made -him pause. He stopped to blink his eyes at the light. A moment later he -looked up, and across the table, busy at some cups in a basin, he saw -the girl he had dreamed of half the day. - -The wonder of her beauty came over him again with a feeling akin to -pain. She was looking him in the face with frank curiosity. He it was -who felt embarrassed and first turned away. He laughed at his scruples -next moment, and returned her stare for stare. He looked her over -slowly to discover her secret. And he succeeded ill. For her loveliness -was anchored to no this or that. She stood in the shabby room, a jewel -of such price as asked no setting. Her beauty would never stale, having -found the secret of the dawn which arrives morning by morning, ready -and wonderful, though all else is passing by in the turning of the -years. The men, who presently would come to kneel in homage there, -would wonder at this glorious body no less the last hour than the first. - -Her hair was brown and shining, and heaped up about her head. Her eyes -were of a dark colour, of great size, and moment by moment sleepy with -dreams or bright with brief fires. Her mouth was heavy with passion -and gaoler of a thousand quick moods; her lips were bright, and behind -them little teeth gleamed white and charming. Her dress was open at the -neck, where her firm throat swept to her bosom. Her arms, bare to the -elbows, had taken their brown from the sun, but their shapeliness was a -wonder and delight. Her hands were slender and quick as they moved in -the water. What age was she? Twenty, it might be. - -"Good evening, Mister," she said. - -"Good evening," he answered. - -Gregory and his wife were hovering at his back. It was "Sit down, Mr. -Power," and "Make yerself at home, Mr. Power. I wish we had a better -seat for you, Mr. Power; but we haven't been here above two week, and -the boss isn't for doing more graft than he need." - -"It's that show, as I've told the old gel. It tires a bloke out," said -Gregory. The woman answered him with a curl of the lip. - -Power sat down on an up-ended box. He could put his elbow on the -table, which had been knocked together slap-dash with a few nails. -After further to-do Gregory sat at hand with a pipe in his mouth. The -women started again on their business. In the pause in matters which -came on this sitting down Power felt the staleness of the room. He had -time to wonder why he had come. He took a second look at Mrs. Gregory. -She showed the ruins of good looks which the climate and hard living -had squandered. Her face was full of greed and craft. The man at his -side was a mixture of rogue and fool. Power had given up a smoke and a -yarn in the cool for this. For he didn't care the crack of a whip for -the show. His line was cattle, not copper. Then the girl had brought -him here. And to-morrow he was to see the girl he loved. He was a fool -for his pains. - -He was a fool for his pains, yet he would not have been more content -staying away. Something drew him here by roots deep down in him. How -her beauty moved him! Here stood a savage child, with her longings -crudely waiting on her lips, possessed of a body which was holy. Why -was she here, growing up alone and unwatched, to age before her time? -It was the law that painted the wings of the butterfly and brought the -cripple into the world; the law, jumbled beyond man's following, that -caused suns to blaze and worlds to groan in labour that meanest gnat -might spin a giddy hour. - -He must pull himself together. - -"That was your mob on the road this afternoon, I reckon?" the woman -asked, looking up of a sudden. - -"Yes, we came from the Ten Mile." - -"A handy lot," Gregory said, wagging his head, and spitting with a -pretty skill through the doorway. - -"Do you reckon to be long on the road with them?" the woman asked once -more. - -"I'm travelling to Morning Springs. We ought to be back inside the -week." - -The washing had come to an end. The girl collected the clean crockery -and grew busy at a shelf. The woman threw the water outside the door, -and dried her hands on a rag. "You come for a look at the boss's show?" -she said as she finished. - -"Yes, I heard one or two speaking of it, and thought I might come -along." - -"Do you do anything in the copper way?" - -"I've an interest in a show or two. I don't go much on it." - -"The boss's show looks A1. One of the Surprise men was down for a look -round in the morning." - -"Ah, who was that?" - -"Mr. ---- Moll, what's his name?" - -"Mr. King," said the girl. - -"And what did King say about it?" - -"He talked big enough," Gregory put in. "But he seemed as interested in -the gel there. He said he might be along agen." - -"Dad, yer tongue's too big for yer mouth." - -"Well, he seemed uncommon shook on yer. I reckon he thought yer show -better than my show. A-haw, haw, haw! A-haw, haw, he-haw!" - -"Mr. King is a pleasant-spoken gentleman," Mrs. Gregory said. - -"And," said Gregory, "I'd have thought him pleasanter if he had come to -a bargain." - -The girl, Moll Gregory, came back from the shelf. She put both hands -upon the table, and bent a little over it. Her great eyes looked into -Power's face. "Do you know Mr. King?" she said. - -"I often run across him." - -"Wot is he like?" - -"King's a good fellow." - -"He says funny things." - -"What did he say?" - -"Oh, he looked at me, you know, like men look when they're after a -lark, and he says: 'I came to look at copper and I found gold.' I -couldn't take up his meaning quite, but I guessed he was trying to fool -me." - -The woman interrupted. "Maybe you're thinking of making an offer for -the show?" - -"Don't rush him, old woman. Maybe I'll hang on to it." - -"No, yer won't. You'll sell out and clear from the game. I want to see -some life. I'm tired of these dull holes, I am. You'll fool the thing -up and get took down, as you've been a dozen times." - -Something in this sentence put Gregory on a new turn of thought, for -he put his pipe on the table, clawed his beard a moment, and got up. -"D'yer know anything of wire strainers?" He began to hunt in a corner -and brought out parts of a clumsy machine, together with a tangle of -wire. The woman flew at him. - -"If you'd give by that foolery and do a bit of shovelling we might be -better off. Who wants a wire strainer where there isn't a fence for two -hundred mile? You make me sick, yer do." - -"Steady on, mother." Gregory fell into explanation, and in time brought -out a potato digger of his invention, and illustrated that fortune -was but a stay-away. Mrs. Gregory gave over talk, and drew an ancient -illustrated paper from somewhere, and sat down to turn the leaves. The -girl employed herself with one thing and another, going in and out -of the doorway, and seeming intent on her business; but Power knew -she watched him, and he himself missed nothing she did. Her beauty -was beyond the telling. Whether she walked, whether she sat, whether -she stood a moment by the doorway peering into the night, she was so -wonderful that nothing else was worth the looking. - -What was happening to him to-night! - -At last Gregory was persuaded to put his inventions back in their -corner and light lanterns. "You'd better come along, gel," he said. "We -may want you to hold a light." He and Moll Gregory and Power set out, -and Power came to remember the journey as many pictures of one girl who -passed from light into shadow and from shadow into light. She strode -beside him with the free walk of a goddess. They arrived at the shaft, -and she stood over the black mouth, holding a lantern to guide the -downward clamber. From his station at the bottom, Power saw her bending -overhead, with one hand on the windlass for support, and the stars of -the sky gathered together for background. He looked here and there at -the broken earth as Gregory bade him, and the dull green of the copper -appeared in abundance. It was dirty work and hot, with ever a trickle -of dirt down the back of the neck, and he wished himself well up at the -top again. They had climbed up presently, and very soon had made the -road home. The close air of the hut gave them ill greeting. Gregory put -down the lantern noisily on the table, blew a big breath out of his -mouth, and ran a finger round the neck of his shirt. - -"This weather's no good for climbing about in," he said. - -The woman looked up from her paper with a keen face. "Wot did you think -of the show, Mr. Power?" - -"I don't know much about that sort of thing, Mrs. Gregory. It looks -thundering good." - -Gregory began to think. "There's specimens about the place," he said, -"but durn me if I know where to come on them." - -"You left two or three by the pool, Dad." - -"Could you find 'em?" - -"Maybe." - -"Have a look then, gel." - -"It doesn't matter," Power said. - -"It will be no worry." Moll Gregory picked up the lantern and was going -out of the door. Power crossed the room of a sudden. - -"I'll come with you. It will save bringing them back." - -"Orl right, Mr. Power." - -They went out into the dark. The moon would rise in a few minutes; but -now the night was dark and still and close. The sky was filled with -stars shining with the fierce heat of the tropics. The Southern Cross -lay against the horizon; but in the North, Orion was climbing up, and -the Scorpion curled his tail in the middle of the sky. The dog shuffled -from the shadows after them, and very soon man and girl had passed -between the trees by the bank of the waterhole. They were walking side -by side, the girl bearing the lantern, and it was as they came upon the -bank that Moll Gregory broke silence. - -"It was round here," she said, pausing to take bearing. "Dad left them -one day when he couldn't be bothered taking them home." - -She put the lantern this way and that, and they made careful search. -But their trouble was empty of profit. - -"This is where they was," she said. "Maybe Mr. King lifted them. -There's been no one else this way." - -"It doesn't matter," Power answered. "The show was good enough." - -They were looking into the Pool, which the gloom made mysterious and of -great size. The water was fretted with the images of stars. Big moths -came out of the dark to beat against the lantern. Power spoke because -it was impossible to stand there without a reason. - -"A grand place this." - -"It isn't so bad. Bit slow after Mount Milton." - -"Do you want people?" - -"I'm not particular; but a gel wants a bit of life sometimes. It's -terrible weary of a time without a sight of anyone new. Sometimes I'm -fair spoiling for a bit of fun." - -"What do you do with yourself? Do you read?" - -"I'm no great hand at learning. I got no schoolin'." - -"Never been to school?" - -"No, we always lived out back where there was none. I've not been -christened neither. Never saw a church for that matter. There was a -parson what came round our parts once with a pack-'orse. I fair scared -him out of his life when I let on about it. He was for fixing me -straight then." - -"Why didn't you let him?" - -"Something happened. I forget." - -There came a space of silence. She lifted her great eyes. "Yes, I'm -spoiling for a bit of life. I'm sick of seeing nothing. I reckon maybe -you've moved about, Mister?" - -"I travelled a bit." - -"That Mr. King, he's been about a bit." - -"Did he say so?" - -"Yes, he said--aw, it doesn't matter what he said. It was something -stupid." - -"What was it?" - -"Aw----" - -"Tell me." - -"Aw, he only said as he'd been all over the world, but hadn't met a gel -to equal me. He said all the silks and satins in the world would never -do me proper. He said as he'd be back in a day or two. Do you reckon -he'll come?" - -It was Power who was put out of countenance. He said after a -moment--"D'you want him to come?" - -"I won't be worried if he do. He knows how to talk a gel round." - -The moon began to rise. As it left the horizon it was as large as a -cartwheel and as rich as a copper platter. Its light began to find -a way into many places. The waters of the Pool grew very fair. But -nothing in that prospect was fair as the girl at Power's side. - -Who knows what thoughts just then came knocking at the doors of his -brain? Truth to tell he fell to frowning and nursing his lower lip. The -girl was impatient before he came out of his brown study. - -"I have to get back," he said. "The moon is up. I am taking next watch." - -"Mick O'Neill is with you, isn't he?" - -"He is in charge now. I relieve him. D'you know him?" - -"He's often this way." - -They were on the way back to the hut. "Is he interested in copper, too?" - -The girl looked up in a puzzled way. - -"Well, copper or no copper," Power said of a sudden, "you've a straight -man there. I don't know any better one. That's about it." - -He fell into thought again, walking at no great pace with eyes upon the -ground. His preoccupation brought a pout to the girl's lips. She said: -"You're to be a week on the road, aren't you?" - -"That's about it." - -"Will you be seeing us agen?" - -"Would you like me to?" - -"I reckon dad likes a yarn of a night." - -"And what about yourself?" - -"Aw, yes." Saying this she looked up and laughed. - -"Listen, girl, here's the camp. Stand still. King told you he had never -met a girl to equal you. I can tell you more than that. I can tell you -that no queen with her crown on her head and her throne underneath her -ever held the power you hold. You can make the wise man foolish, and -fill the fool with learning. You can take the clean man to the mire, -and cause the dirty man to wash his hands. Ah, girl! don't listen." - -"Aw, get out," she said. - -"Back agen." Gregory called out, pushing his bunch of dirty beard out -at the door. "Did you tumble on them?" - -"No luck," Power said. "It's no matter. There isn't any doubt about the -show. I'm back to say good night. I've my watch to stand over there." - -"Won't you have a cup of tea," said the woman, coming to the door. - -"Not this time; I can't wait. I'm sorry." - -"Ye'll be back sometime?" - -"Yes, I'll look you up in a few days. Maybe you'll have opened up the -show a bit by then. Well, good night." - -"Good night, Mr. Power." - -"Good night, Mr. Power." - -"So long, Mister." - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE COACH COMES TO SURPRISE - - -Next day Power kept his promise, and rode into Surprise as soon as he -could. He let go the horse in a yard, and tramped the stony stretch -which lies before the house. Outside the accountant's office he came -across Mr. Neville and Maud. He heard Maud's cry, "Well done, Jim," and -the old man waved a stick in the act of pouncing on a passer by. Maud -came up in great glee. - -"How quick you've been. I was not expecting you till sunset." - -"I've had good luck. They're a strong lot. Mick O'Neill is taking them -to the hollow. You must ride out with me to-night for a look at them." - -"But I can't, Jim. And I'd love to. These wretched people come to-day. -Don't you remember? I can't leave them to father the first night." - -"I forgot them. Hang it! that settles it, I suppose." - -"We're on the way to meet the coach now. Come along. You have nothing -else to do, have you?" - -"I'll come, of course. You ought to pull that hat down, girl. Your face -is getting burnt to bits." - -"You said you liked me brown." - -Old Neville was hard engaged with the passer by. The two people heard -his harangue, and saw him blowing cigar smoke in a hurry. Soon he drove -the enemy through the office door, pursuing him hard in retreat. At -once Maud went close to Power. - -"Jim," she said, "I've been so nice to father all day. He is splendid -just now. As soon as you get him alone, ask him about our marriage. -He'll be reasonable this time, I know. I'll find you a chance. Why, -Jim, what's the matter to-day?" - -"Matter with me?" - -"Yes, you're down on your luck, aren't you?" - -"You are always thinking something, Maud." - -The thread of talk was broken, and they wandered into the office with -nothing to say. It was built of iron sheets, held together with wooden -beams. Frequent ledgers and other dreary volumes took their rest upon -the tables, and files of ageing papers dangled by strings along the -walls. The dust of spent willy-willys had found the upper shelves, -and many an industrious fly had left a lifetime's labour on ceiling -and woodwork. The corpulent cockroach walked here after the heat of -the day, and the spider spread his net in the loftier corners. For at -Surprise a happy line is drawn between the must-be and the need-not, -and the word "broom" is not used among the best people. - -The place was full of a sickly heat, but the day was Saturday, and -King only had stayed behind. They found him writing at the lower end. -Half-way down Neville had secured his victim between a table and a -chair. The person in this unhappy case was an elderly man of a very -broken appearance. He might have been a gentleman a long time ago. His -hair was grey, but a moustache of any colour you please drooped over -his mouth. His eyes were pale blue, with a blink, and his chin grew -a day-old stubble of beard. He wore round his neck a collar of many -washings and a doubtful ironing, and a tie in a limp old age. He wore -no coat, which is the summer fashion; his trousers were of khaki stuff -and wrinkled meekly at his boots. The toes of his boots leaned up in -search of something kinder than the stones. On the little finger of -his left hand showed the signet ring of the house of Horrington, of -Such-and-such Hall, England. - -Prosperity and Mr. Horrington were coldly acquainted. Horrington was an -idealist among men. Some pass their days mapping out new continents, -others knit their brows over the printing press and the steam engine. -Horrington had resolved on reading the riddle of how to build a fortune -within call of a hotel and without hard work. He had met with poor -success. He had eschewed hard work, and he had lived within reach of -a hotel; but prosperity had shrugged shoulders at him. Devotion to an -idea had lost him the affection of his cousin, Sir John; had found him -a passage to Australia; had drifted him presently from town to bush. -Unable to contend singly with ill-fortune, he had married a faded -woman, who took him and his burdens, no one knew why. Mrs. Horrington -painted a little, sang a little, worked her needle a little, played -the piano a little--and these arts she taught the daughters of those -parents who are not exacting if terms be cheap. So Horrington had kept -constant to his idea. But the lean times had brought the pair to an -alien land. For at Surprise they paint only when a new coat is due to -the poppet-legs, and only ply the needle should a wall need repair. At -Surprise the mouth-organ and the concertina soothe the ache for higher -things. - -The old man came to an end of his breath. - -"Sir," Mr. Horrington began with a certain dignity. "You will own I -have heard you with patience." - -"Eh?" the old man grunted. - -"And I repeat I have every right to complain on finding myself put on a -beggarly allowance of water at a moment's notice." - -"We may be doing a perish before the rains come." - -"Why, Good Lord! sir, what's a kerosene tin of water to a family? My -wife is not a strong woman, and like all women in poor health, she's -ready to blame others for her shortcomings. She has it at the back of -her mind that I make a difficulty carrying the water; though, Good -Lord! I've scraped my shins often enough on the tins. When I turned -up with a single bucket this morning, and the goat had to go short, -she put the blame at once on me. She wouldn't listen until she saw for -herself the tanks were locked. Then home she went to throw herself on -the bed. 'Never enough wood chopped to light a fire, now no water to -wash with, not a soul to speak to, never anything to look at'--that's -what I listened to until I left the place." - -"Where did ye go to?" - -"I had an appointment." - -"Near the hotel, I reckon." - -"Your joke, sir, could be in better taste. I had business with one of -the shift bosses." - -"At the hotel?" - -"We did happen to meet at the hotel." - -"He, he!" - -"Because I have been unfortunate, sir, I think there is no need for -rudeness. In a politer country, where I have ridden my twice or three -times weekly to my cousin's hounds, I----" - -The old man broke up the audience with a flourish of his stick. - -King left his work when Maud and Power arrived. "Oh, Jim, I've -just remembered." Maud called out. "Mr. King was down at the river -yesterday, and saw the pretty girl. You know whom I mean? Mr. King -hasn't been the same since. None of his balances came right this -morning. He said she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. Didn't -you, Mr. King?" - -"I expect so." - -"Jim, you must see her, just to tell me it's true what they say. Would -you think her the loveliest thing in the world?" - -"I don't know." - -"Don't look so glum over it. Will you go and see her?" - -"I have seen her." - -"You? When?" - -"On the way home when I left you last time." - -"Why didn't you tell me?" - -"I didn't think of it." - -"You stupid! And what was she like?" - -"Like? Oh, she was very pretty." - -"Is that all you can say? Tell me about her. What was she doing?" - -"Doing? I don't know what she was doing. She had a lantern in her hand." - -"You want shaking, Jim! Mr. King told me much more. Didn't you look at -her? Mr. King said a hundred shadows were at hide-and-seek in her hair, -and when he came to talk about her eyes, he sat down--the words in his -mouth stopped his tongue moving." - -"Perhaps that is why Power says nothing now," King said. - -"I hope not," Maud cried quickly. And she fell to teasing. "No, poor -old Jim was thinking of his bullocks when he saw her." - -"What should I have thought about, the cattle or Moll Gregory?" - -"Neither. You should have been thinking of me. I see you know her name." - -"Yes, I've learned that." - -King shut up the ledger with a bang. "That's enough for Saturday. -What's next? A smoke, a drink or the coach? I vote a drink." - -"I vote the coach," Maud cried. - -"Here's a cigarette," said Power. "You must find it hot here of an -afternoon." - -"I do. The sun gets round on to the wall, and I feel as charitable as a -woman with an empty woodbox." - -"You ought to give up this uncomfortable bachelor life, Mr. King," said -Maud. "You ought to go down South and marry some nice girl." - -"Alas! my purse is not as full as once it was. A fool and his money are -soon parted, they say. I should have to marry a girl with money, and a -girl and her money are equally soon married--by someone else." - -Neville came up behind. "How ye do chatter, Maud. We'd better get along -to that coach. Who's coming? King, ye had better come along." He jerked -his head over his shoulder. "Hey, Horrington, ye can tell your wife -she can have what water she wants and I'll be by to see you carry it." -Marching four abreast, they passed out of the office. - -Surprise is not a beautiful place. The hills holding it are the -greenest in that country, and lean up and down in gentle curves. But -the bottom of the basin has grown shabby with much use. Patches of -sand cover it, in company with clumps of spinifex put out of repair by -disillusioned goats. The tents and humpies of the camp rise up on this -in seedy and unordered rank, and low-born fowls doze at the doorways. -In the middle of the congregation stands one building somewhat more -gracious. A glittering roof protects it, and there is paint upon the -walls. Above the doorway runs the legend--Surprise Valley Hotel. - -On Saturday afternoon they keep holiday at Surprise. It is then the -butcher kills for the second time in the week, and Mrs. Bloxham, Mrs. -Johnson and Mrs. Niven meet at his lean-to for Sunday's dinner and a -half-hour gossip. They find talk until the coach arrives. About the -same time, Bloxham, Johnson and Niven put an eye to their premises, -pulling together a hole in the wall here, a slit in the roof there. -They, in due course, turn steps to the hotel for the coming of the -coach. At four o'clock, about that place, you find all the best people -of Surprise. - -The party from the office took the direction of the hotel. Old Neville -with a great play of his stick held the lead. He kept the talk his way. -Said he: "I can't make out what this fellow is coming for. Bringing his -wife, too. She'd as well been left behind. He wrote something about -coming for a holiday, being in poor health or something. It beats me -what he thinks to find here. He'll be leavin' by the first coach, I -reckon. I shan't mind. I've too much on hand to be trotting round with -beef tea. Maud will have to see to them." - -"Selwyn is the name, isn't it?" Power said. - -The old man nodded his head. "Huh, huh! There was an assayer of that -name here once three or four year back. There was no houses then; -didn't scarce run a tent, and he and me and a couple of other fellows -was camped where the stable is. He had some damned silver thing -something like a flute, and one night a feller out of pity asked him to -play it. It was the horriblest row ever you heard. The chap that asked -him made some excuse and went so far away he nearly got bushed. He went -on playing till near midnight, I reckon. When we were all asleep the -damned row woke us up again. I sits up and lets fly in a great rage: -'For God's sake, man,' I said, 'a fair thing is a fair thing. We've -listened to you half the damned night already. D'ye think,' says I--and -then I see all of a sudden it was the dingoes howling. He, he! Huh, -huh, huh!" - -"Father, you put a bit to that story every time." - -"And it's not everyone knows how to do that, my girl." - -"Hullo, here's a new place," Power said. "You've grown it since last -week." - -"Smith, the schoolmaster," answered the old man with a jerk of the -head. "He's doing his week here. I mean to catch him home if I can. I'm -the man for a gentleman that lets his horse into my feed-room." - -"Let him alone, father. He is hunted enough without you. You must have -seen him, Jim. He's the man that looks as though something is just -about to happen. He's married to a book and never gets past the first -chapter. We ought to be sorry for him. He's meant for a town. I don't -know what brought him here. Let's be romantic. Perhaps he loved some -girl and lost her." - -"In that case," King said, "I'll keep my sympathy. There are enough -mourners for the man who has loved some woman and lost her. My heart -goes out to the man who has loved some woman and can't lose her." - -"Huh, huh!" cried the old man from the lead. "Ye needn't pity him, -Maud. He has some woman to follow him round." - -They had come to a couple of tents standing solitary. Neville rattled -in the doorway of the first with his stick. "Hey, there, who's home?" -The tent door was open for the world to look inside. At a table, -consisting of a large board placed on a couple of travelling bags, Mr. -Smith sat writing. An armful of books was at his elbow, and a litter -of papers had tumbled round his heels. He was a man of fair complexion, -going early bald on top. He sighed with great melancholy when the knock -came, and put a hand to his forehead. On top of this he conjured up a -mechanical smile and rose to his feet. - -"You, Mr. Neville? Turned hot, hasn't it? Can I do anything?" - -"I suppose ye know your horse had its head into my chaff half the -morning? The last ton ran me up eighteen shilling a bag." - -Mr. Smith shut his eyes. "I've driven it over the other way twice this -afternoon," he said. "I sat down five minutes ago." - -"I'm talking of the morning." - -"I was at school then." - -"That don't put my chaff in the bag." - -Maud came to the front. "That's enough, father. I hope the horse had a -good dinner. It does the Company good to give away a little chaff. How -is the book getting on?" - -Mr. Smith shook his head. "According to the time-table the third -chapter would have been finished this week, but everything is turning -out against it. I am afraid this life isn't conducive to study, and my -unfortunate poverty precludes me from obtaining the necessary reference -books. Directly I sit down, there's the dog to put out, or the cat to -put in, and, honestly, as my name is Pericles Smith----" - -"Perry!" a woman's voice called from somewhere, "there's a wretched -goat at the flour." - -"Instantly, darling." Mr. Smith closed his eyes. "I live in the hope of -getting an hour to myself one day; but for ten years----" - -"Perry, there's another goat joining it." - -"At once, dear. I suppose I shall write the words 'Chapter Four' some -day, but----" - -"Well, I'm not going to stay here while you chatter any longer," -interrupted the old man, moving off, "and you, Smith, you look after -that horse of yours or ye'll find yourself reading a pretty long bill." - -They came away with Smith still in the doorway. - -"I wish he wouldn't make me laugh. I am so sorry for him," said Maud. - -King made answer. "It's not the best of lives this, packing up for -somewhere at the end of every week, knowing the sun will be at the back -of your neck all day, and a dozen wild children wait at the journey-end -for the ABC to be knocked into their heads. I am content to stay plain -John King." - -"A man can say he has put a good day's work behind him," Power said, -"and that's as well. It helps to pull his thoughts straight at night." - -"Jim, you are taking life so heavily to-day. I had to cheer up Mr. King -this morning because he looked too long at the pretty girl. Now you -have caught the blues somewhere." - -The butcher's shop stands on this side of the hotel, and on Tuesday -and Saturday the butcher stands behind his block, and chops your fate -up with the meat. Mrs. Niven, Mrs. Boulder and Mrs. Bullock grow very -humble when they go a-shopping. It is "Mr. Simpson, and how's the heat -been using yer, and is there any chance of a bit o' the silverside this -time?" And "Mr. Simpson, and I suppose the flies is worrying yer a -treat, and I take it it's my turn for the undercut." And Simpson, with -a to-do of knife and steel makes answer. "Now, I'm givin' wot there -is, and I'm not givin' nothing else, and if yer aren't satisfied, yer -can go elsewhere. I reckon the next butcher isn't farther than Mount -Milton, and I reckon Mount Milton isn't more than seventy mile." - -"Aw, you are gettin' at us, Mr. Simpson," comes the timid chorus. - -The bakery stands between the butcher's and the hotel, presenting -itself to the world as a building of wood and bagging of a very -cutthroat appearance. Mr. Regan, baker, being a man of parts, turns a -pleasant sovereign or two in the little "Crown and Anchor" saloon at -the back. A couple of nights a week the policeman looks in to run the -bank for an hour or so. It's "Now don't stand feeling yer corns there -as though yer ole woman was watching. Choose yer crown, and pick yer -anchor. The dice aren't loaded more than my old grandad's gun was, and -I never see him try to blow to bits anything stronger than his nose. -Come on, gents, every throw a crown, and every chuck an anchor. An' -don't forget time's flying, as the monkey said when he 'eaved the clock -through the winder." - -They took their stand under the hotel verandah. In twos and threes -Surprise strolled to the meeting ground. Neville waved his stick -a dozen times and grunted a how-de-do and shouted. Mr. Horrington -appeared presently, and later disappeared; and others of note swelled -the congregation. In a doorway loitered Barcoo Bill, as graceful a hand -at duffing a horse as you might find this side of the border. Into -stout argument had fallen one-eyed Sal, who, armed with a crowbar, and -fortified with a bottle of Dewar's best, had once upon a time defeated -the only policeman in a single round go-as-you-please affair. In a -patch of shade kicked his heels Iron-jawed Dick, who, for the price -of a drink, had lifted in his teeth a table laid for dinner. Other -people--tall and short, lean and stout--took their stand up and down -the way, and kept ever the tail of an eye on the horizon. Dusty curs -mooched about, and sat down suddenly to beat their stomachs with a -back leg. At half the posts were hitched high-rumped horses with rusty -saddles a-top of them. - -The walk in the sun had left King a good deal the worse for wear. He -pulled forth a handkerchief and pushed it about his face. "If," said -he, making an end, "things are ordered properly in the world to come, -we shall have a special heaven to ourselves. There the sun will totter -through the sky in a mild old age, the rivers will run water, the goats -will come home to be milked, and the woodbox will never empty. And -an angel will wait at the gates holding out a flypaper in place of a -flaming sword." - -"Hey?" cried the old man in a sudden excitement. He was beating his -stick at the distance. - - . . . . . . . - -The five goose-rumped horses, in a lather of sweat, and chastened with -a great following of flies and dust clouds, had lumbered the coach to -the top of the last rise, and the first tents of Surprise, and the -poppet heads of the mine were marching into view, as Mrs. Selwyn stated -for the third time on the journey that she did not know whether she -was on her crown or her toes. From the box seat, Joe Gantley, mailman, -steered his team with bored fingers, jerking his head to the right -now and then to clear his throat, and spitting the flies from his lips -on occasion in an every-day sort of way. Selwyn and Mrs. Selwyn were -packed beside him, where the sun leaned down, the dust climbed up, and -there was perpetual prospect of heaving flanks and clicking hoofs. - -Mrs. Selwyn had come to the struggle in a dust coat and a veil of many -folds; and in face of a hundred difficulties that massive woman had -lost no jot of dignity, remaining to the end a most inspiring spectacle. - -Selwyn had made the best of a bad place at the end of the row. By a -judicious play of elbow and hip he had widened his share of matters, -and now could lean a little easier and find a bit of support for the -hollow of his back. He had grown shabby from the funnel of dust rising -from the top of the wheel, but he was not a man to be put about by -small matters, as he was always very ready to let you know. - -Hilton Selwyn, a director of the Surprise Copper Mining Company, and -gentleman of no other special business, was at this time between fifty -and fifty-five, but lean and active in spite of middle age. Cleancut -in feature, upright in carriage, he suggested the military man, and -his youthful step would have passed him as any age. It was only on -discovery of the thinned grey hair and close-clipped tobacco-stained -moustache that one understood half a century had gone over his head. - -Half a century had gone over his head and health had become -treacherous. He could crawl through a swamp at dawn on the chance of -an odd teal, and come home to a thumping breakfast; but two minutes -weeding in the garden brought on sciatica. Similarly he could stand -all day in a drizzle of rain persuading a trout to rise, and more than -one biting July breakfast-time had found him half naked worming a way -across the lawn of his country place to a flock of pigeon feeding in -the timber; but indoors his only seat was right over the fire, where he -took the warmth from everybody--as Mrs. Selwyn was often good enough to -tell him. - -It was to get himself into better fettle that he sought the present -change of scene. He woke up one evening of last winter from his -after-dinner sleep in the best arm-chair. The waking up was a delicate -matter. He gave two long drawn-out yawns. He shot a fist into the air -and stretched slowly, rolled himself into a sitting position, blinked -once or twice, screwed up his face as though he had a bad taste in the -mouth, caught hold of the mantelpiece and pulled himself on to his -legs. He rocked about a little, screwed up his face again, and at last -quite woke up. His hair was like a storm at sea, his tie was crooked, -his dress clothes were creased. - -In the manner of a man announcing news of deep interest he spoke: - -"I feel a little better now. I think I deserve a cigarette." He felt -in his pockets for his cigarette case. He looked on the floor, in the -fender, and under the cushions of the arm-chair. "Dear me! Where's my -cigarette case?" - -"You don't think I have it, do you?" Mrs. Selwyn asked coldly. She had -been playing hostess to a couple of friends while the host slept. - -"I don't know where it is; it's not here, anyhow." A terrific frown -came over his face. "This accursed habit of tidying is making the house -impossible to live in. One puts a thing down, and the next minute some -interfering meddler picks it up and hides it, and then forgets where -they put it. Curse everybody!" - -Mrs. Selwyn grew very stiff. "Is this language meant for me? I shall -not submit another moment to it. I am very pleased your cigarette case -is lost. I hope it has gone for good. You are a perfect plague with -your things. It is very good of anyone to touch them at all. In future -they can lie where they drop as far as I am concerned." - -"I hope everyone else will be equally kind. There may be a chance of -finding things then. Life's not worth living as it is, with a troop of -women following one about picking up every little thing one puts down -and then losing it." - -Selwyn shouted at the top of his voice. "Jane!" The parlourmaid came -in. His smile was charming. "I've lost my cigarettes, Jane. They are -nowhere to be found." - -"The case is on the mantelpiece, sir, in the library, where you left it -this afternoon." - -"Ah!" Selwyn saved an awkward situation by finding a pipe and cleaning -it. Mrs. Selwyn watched him keenly. He cried out suddenly. - -"You women amuse me. You live in an agony of unrest in case a bit of -ash gets on a chair or rug, and shorten your lives with the excitement -of finding a fishing-bag with a few fish in it on a drawing-room sofa -instead of in the kitchen. There never was a woman yet with a true -idea of comfort. Hullo! chocolates here. They don't look bad at all." -He proved his words by diving into the box and bringing out a handful, -which he munched with obvious satisfaction. - -"I believe in a man liking sweets. It shows he doesn't drink." He -munched on a moment or two. Then he smiled with the charm that deceived -guests into believing him a solicitous host. "Now who is going to play -or sing? I am sure none of you are entertaining Harry as I should have -done had health allowed. By the way though, I did hear some music. I -think I must have been asleep. It was that sherry we had at dinner. -It's a fatal thing to wet one's whistle with. A glass or two of sherry -followed by the genial blaze of a good fire on the pit of the stomach, -and the case is hopeless. I expect these chocolates will play up with -my hollow tooth. It's a sad thing to arrive at my time of life and -begin to feel oneself giving way everywhere. I can't get about as I -used to. A hard day's shooting knocks me up." He shook his head in -deeply sympathetic manner. - -"Haven't you done enough talking about yourself?" - -"I'm talking because I'm the only one here with any ideas of -conversation. You are all sitting like a crowd at a wake before the -whisky is passed round." - -"You give everybody a racking headache." - -"I'm very sorry. I don't know why, but there it is, I never get -headaches." - -"Nothing would ever kill you." - -"You needn't be so annoyed about it. As a matter of fact I've not been -at all well these last few months; only, unlike other people, I make no -fuss about it. I've a thundering good mind to see a doctor to-morrow. I -jolly well will." - -Great matters followed on that little upset. The rocky state of his -health came as a thunderbolt to Selwyn. His medical man said an entire -change of scene and climate was absolutely needful. What better place -than Surprise where every worry could be put behind? With a fishing-rod -and a gun-case in the baggage a man should be good for a six-month's -stay. Mrs. Selwyn began with a stout refusal. She knew as well as she -was alive the affair would end disastrously. She had a presentiment -some calamity was waiting. She could foresee with her capable brain how -unfitted Hilton was for the whole business. Her heart was in her mouth -at the mere thought of the journey. And look at the expense. "Think -of my purse!" she cried. "Think of my pocket!" Finally she fell into -agreement, so as to be at hand to say "I told you so." - -Thus it came about that a fiery November afternoon found the -Selwyns covering the last mile of the journey. The back of the -coach was a-choke with wares. The mail bags shared the bottom with -the Selwyn luggage, and a round dozen of other parcels held the -hopes of as many women at Surprise. Mrs. Niven, Mrs. Bloxham, Mrs. -Anybody-else-you-please, lured by a catalogue, had summoned them in a -halting hand weeks before, and had spent spare time counting up the -days to their coming. On top of this bundle of wares, in no ways a bed -of their choosing, were chained Selwyn's proved bodyguard, the sharers -of his board, almost the sharers of his bed. They were a mangy pointer -of great age, and a terrier with a punishing jaw. The pointer had -fallen into a miserable doze; but the terrier yet nursed hope of sudden -calamity, and kept a quarrelsome eye at half-cock. - -With a crack of the whip, a spurt from the goose-rumped horses, and a -stir among the waiting congregation, the coach rolled to a standstill -before Surprise Valley Hotel. Such was the manner of the Selywn coming. - - . . . . . . . - -That evening it wanted half-an-hour to the rise of the moon when Power -left Neville's verandah for his horse and the journey home. The lights -were going out over all the camp. Maud followed at his side for a -good-bye. The old man fussed after them as far as the back door. - -"Don't chatter too long, gel. I won't be left with them people, d'ye -hear? I may be wrong, but I think it won't take me time to be sick o' -the pair of them. I may be wrong, huh, huh! Goodness! Look at the lid -off the dustbin again. That woman don't do a thing she's told. Look at -it! Some people breeds flies for a fancy. Hope ye have a good trip, -Power. See you again in a week." - -The hill begins at the very backdoor of the house, and lifts a wide -breast of broken red rock into the cooler spaces. There are many seats -about the top, and all breezes go that way. The poet, the refugee and -the sighing swain thither may turn steps to find easement of their -state. But few visit the hilltop, for the poet has no place on the -books of the Surprise Mining Company, and the refugee need not take -such a lengthy journey, while love ever keeps its hiding-places ready -at hand. - -The old man turned into the house, and Maud Neville put her hands on -Power's shoulders. "A few minutes don't matter, Jim. This is our first -time to-day. We'll go up the hill a moment." - -They went up there, and sat down upon the warm, red rock. The camp -was a few points of light in the dark; but many white stars filled -the sky in old places--the Cross to the South, the Belt to the North, -the Scorpion where you must crane the neck to find it. In such a dark -lovers must sit closely if they would not be lost. - -"Jim, to-day has been a failure, hasn't it?" - -"I didn't mean it to be." - -"You have had the blues all day, and those wretched people came before -I could cure you." - -"I shall be back in a week, Maud." - -"I had worked father so hard, and all for nothing. I know it was not -your fault. There wasn't one chance." - -"I'll have a pipe now we have sat down." - -"See the stars marching into their old places. What a lot they see. Do -you think they look right into us?" - -"Let us hope not." - -"Do you love me, Jim?" - -"Must I say it again?" - -"As much as you say you do?" - -"I forget how much I said." - -"Because sometimes ... well ... sometimes." - -"What happens sometimes?" - -"Ah, Jim, is there always to be a 'sometimes?' Why do I have always the -little stab at my heart? Is the whisperer true who says I do most of -the loving?" - -She heard no answer. - -"Sometimes I am afraid of what waits for us. And always I love you -very, very much. No, no, I am not afraid. I am now the wise woman. -Along the road my heart has come I have found the thorny places, but I -am learning to tread them with a shrug of pain and to march on where -the way opens out. There are aloes in the sweet cake of love; but let -us eat, for the spices will forget the aloes. The cook cooks well, but -he has not all the ingredients to his hand, and they go hungry who -demand only the stars for food." Her arms found his shoulders. Her -kisses found his lips. - -"What an eloquent little tongue you have, girl! How can I find the -words to answer you?" - -"Don't talk a minute." But she herself spoke again in a little while. - -"Time goes by." - -"It does." - -"Two years ago we were strangers. We got along without each other. How -funny that! What did you find in me to want me? Jim, aren't you ever -going to answer to-night?" - -There was no answer. - -"Friend Jim, do cheer up." - -"I'm cheered up. Things are wrong to-day. I don't know why. These -things happen sometimes. My fault, no doubt. The bush is a good enough -place, girl, but it doesn't do to start thinking there." - -He put silence to flight by getting to his feet. "I must stand watch by -midnight. A week will bring me back again. We'll say good night here. -Good night." - -"Good night, Jim. Seven days are flying towards me on damaged wings." - -"Good night again, girl. Let your blessings follow me while I am away." - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE RETURN TO SURPRISE - - -The week was beggared, and had borrowed two days from the next, when -Power came riding back to Surprise. He had left the musterers and the -cook's waggon after breakfast to find their own way home, and a steady -walk all day across the plain brought him at evening to the bottom of -the long slope of Dingo Gap, and a bare half-dozen miles from Surprise. -Man and beast had made small matter of the journey. - -Power came back in better cheer. Reflection stays at the fireside when -a man rides off at the heels of a mob of cattle, and Power came home -with only the recollections of a summer madness to flick his memory. A -mile of difficult travelling hid him from the crossways, and who denies -Fate sits there sometimes pointing the path to follow? - -Half-way up the distance, where the road swings back upon itself, and -a hurly-burly of rocks shuts the sight from climbing farther, where it -takes a good man to steer a buggy--there, I say to you, Power met Moll -Gregory, astride a shabby horse, face to face. She was going down and -he was going up, and they must halt their horses to divide the way. - -At once the old sickness returned. Leech, thou hast tinkered with thine -ointments, bring now the knife to heal. The beast was knock-kneed and -at odds with age, with a moulding saddle across its back and a sack of -goods hanging at either side. The girl was dressed in coarse stuff cut -out with poor skill on some close night by the light of a hurricane -lamp. A big hat, sitting on her head like a roof, spoiled the fury of -the suns; yet that beauty found full forgiveness for the shabby setting. - -The horses waited side by side, and Moll Gregory sat an arm's -length away; but the nearness cost her no effort, and she looked up -unconcerned. The frown left Power's forehead. - -"Hullo, Mister; back again?" - -"You are well loaded up," he said. "Two tucker bags full to the throat." - -"I get the tucker now. Mum and me reckon to keep Dad home if we can. -He's too much trouble when he gets a drop into him." - -"It's a long way round by the Gap." - -"It makes a change." - -"How has the show turned out?" - -"A1. But dad isn't over fond of a shovel. He's took up with the wire -strainer again, and says there's heaps of money in it when it gets -going. You should hear him and mum on at it of a night." She laughed. -Her voice was charming when no words defiled it. She waved the flies -away and lifted her hat a little. She may have thought Power looked at -the hat overlong, for she said: "It isn't great shakes, is it?" - -"Better than getting burnt up." - -"The suns have took longer than I remember doing me harm. Anyway there -wouldn't be many to growl if I was spoilt. Maybe a gum-tree or two by -the river, or old Bluey the dog might see a change. There's none else -to take notice." - -It was for Power to come forward with the compliment; but she received -silence for her pains. She pouted charmingly as a child might do. - -All the moods sat in her eyes, and a hurry of passions, grave and gay, -waited on her ready lips. Had she been a little older, or read another -page of life, she might have understood those silences, and taking -pity, have set her horse upon the road. But she looked across to say: - -"I reckon you don't take much account of looks in a girl." She failed -again. A third time she tried. "Others do." - -"I see," he said. He pushed a hand across his face, for the flies held -high festival that afternoon. "We didn't leave you lonely when we rode -off?" - -"No," came with a toss of the head. "All men aren't like you, Mr. -Power. Some knows a neat ankle, though it takes the best part of a -dozen mile through the bush to find it." - -"And this bold knight, is he young and charming?" - -"No, he isn't. He's fat, and sweats when he walks. But he knows how to -talk a girl round, and he calls me his Princess." - -"Then it is a royal courtship on both sides." She did not understand. -"King is your courtier," he said. "I'm glad we didn't all forget you." -There fell a little pause and his forehead wrinkled up. Then he said -earnestly: "Answer me, girl. I am not asking for nothing. Mick O'Neill -is in love with you. Do you mean to run square with him; or is he to be -the dog barking up the tree, and the 'possum not at home?" - -She showed a flash of temper for the first time. - -"My name is Moll Gregory, my address is North Queensland, and I am not -telling what I do to every feller stopping me on the road." - -But she met her better at this business. Power broke in on top of her. -"He is a good man, and he'll play you straight, whether you play him -straight or don't. He is my friend, that's all." - -The anger went out of their faces. Power was searching for something to -say, but she was the quicker. - -"I'm not going to quarrel with you yet," she said, her head to one -side. "It's too dead dull on the river to start scaring blokes away. -When will you come along for another look at the show? Dad's done a bit -you know there. He's dotty on the wire strainer. That's what has slowed -him up. What about to-night?" - -"Not to-night. Another day. To-morrow, if you like." - -"To-night." - -"Not to-night." - -"To-night," she said again, frowning. - -"To-morrow." - -"I reckon you don't have too many manners, Mister. A girl don't say -to-night too often, you know." - -"I----oh, why won't to-morrow do?" - -"Very well," she said, much put out and taking no trouble to hide -it. "I'll talk to meself to-night while mum and dad fights over the -wire strainer. Only I reckon a girl don't feel too good when she says -to-night and a feller says to-morrow." - -"Then to-night it is." - -The smiles ran all about her face. "That's a promise, Mister?" - -"Yes." - -"And early?" - -"Not too late." - -She leaned a little out of the saddle, with her dainty teeth just -apart. "They say you are a smart man among cattle, Mister." - -"That's good news." - -"It takes a quick man to be a daddy stockman, don't it?" - -"It does." - -"Then I reckon all your quickness has gone into cattle," she answered, -and broke into another peal of laughter, and flicked the old horse -awake, and so passed on down the road. - -Power drew his reins together and finished the journey up the hill. -You look upon a very fair prospect from the summit of Dingo Gap; long -lines of hills lifting broad bosoms to the sky; far behind on the -plain the broad belt of the river; ahead the broken pathway dipping -downward to Surprise. Power was short-sighted that evening, and waiting -up there to breathe his horse he fell into a brown study, and looked -from a pinnacle of his soul down a valley long as the roadway of Dingo -Gap. Mayhap he called himself turncoat, wearer of any man's livery, -weathercock to flap wings to every wind; sufficient it is, he left his -thoughts presently, for the day grew old, and by sunset he had ridden -into the beginnings of Surprise. With a nod here, a good day there, he -passed to the stable and spent the last minutes of daylight serving his -horse. That matter to his mind, he turned steps towards the house. - -Maud Neville sat before the house alone. At his coming, she jumped up -in great good spirits. He guessed she had counted on the meeting, for -she wore a dress he had noticed once. Yet he must remark the wear and -tear of summer on her face, and fall out of humour at his own keenness -of sight. He did his best to meet her mood. "Back once again," he -called out. - -"You owe us two days," she answered. And next she cried: "Jim, Jim, I'm -so glad." She left the kisses she had waiting for him till later on, -as Messrs Boulder and Niven took the evening against the store across -the way, pipe at mouth, the tail of an eye cocked for whatever might go -forward. - -Standing there at the doorstep of the house Power became suddenly -aware that he had to his credit a long day's ride, and that he was -tired. The cries of the crickets and other evening insects entered -his consciousness, and with surprise he remarked the afterglow of the -sunset, and realised night would fall in a few minutes. This slight -fatigue affected him suddenly and strangely. He saw with new vision the -pure soul of the woman who waited now ready to receive him. Always -she met him with open hands, whether he came in good humour or in bad. -She bore the tiring summer days without repining, and, more than that, -from the daily course of affairs extracted a philosophy of life. He was -tired after the day's ride, and here she stood desiring only to banish -his fatigue by her ministrations. She had had her own day's work, but -that was unremembered. She had learned that giving was more profitable -than taking. He saw how often he hunted the shadow and missed the -substance. - -The cries of the insects began again while the afterglow faded in -the sky. The promise he had made an hour since came to mind. He bent -his brows at thought of it. Well, it was given now. It must be kept. -Maud was leading the way into the house, and he was following her -mechanically. In the dining-room a table was laid for one person. -The cloth was clean; all was ready to hand. She had done this on the -chance of his coming to-night. This joy of service was love. And he too -claimed to love. Yet he had put himself out little enough when all was -said and done--came much when he wanted, went much when he wished. What -a good woman she was, yet he always had to be telling himself this. -He was one of those heavy-eyed dullards who would not believe in the -butterfly because the chrysalis was a poor thing. - -What was happening this evening that he was for ever dreaming? He -had often enough been a bit tired; but it had not caused melancholy. -Why shirk the point? The child on the road had moved him beyond all -experience. She had put a torch to his thoughts. She had seemed an echo -of all lovers who had tripped down the corridors of time. - -"Wake up, Jim! You are tired, poor boy." - -"I have been at it all day. Give me something to eat." - -"See, we expected you. While you wash I shall have it all ready." - -He left the room, and a minute or two later he found the meal waiting -for him, and she in a seat opposite, elbows on table, hands making a -cup for her chin, her face gay and full of fondness. "Sit down, Jim, -and begin at the beginning." - -He went through his examination, and at the same time made a good -supper. He received a shake of the head or a nod, a pout or a frown -according to the telling of his story. - -"Jim, do you know what I did this morning? I woke up very early and -found there had been a sudden change in the night. Quite a cold breeze -was blowing. I had to get up at once. I couldn't help myself. When I -was dressed I called out to father I was going for a ride, and went -looking for old Stockings. It was breaking dawn, and sharp enough to -remind you of winter. Stockings was quite lively for an old fellow. I -went straight out into the plain past the Conical Hill. The sky was -growing brighter all the time. The birds were singing as if it were -winter, and the hoofs of Stockings rang out clear. Plenty of kangaroos -were abroad, and one old man stood up and refused to budge as we went -by. I pushed on across the plain as long as the sunrise lasted, looking -back now and then to see I wasn't losing Conical Hill. The cold stayed -until the sun was over the horizon, and then I turned Stockings round -and began to walk home. I was thinking that forty, fifty or sixty miles -away you had seen this same sunrise, and felt the same cold in your -bones. I understood then how much the life meant to you, and why you -were always ready for a muster or a journey down the roads with cattle. -Jim, I think a man working abroad has a better chance of reading life -straight than a girl who belongs to the four walls of a house. A man -must be a dunce to stay untaught by a morning like to-day. What's -making you frown?" - -"I'm not frowning, and I don't think you are right, Maud. When all is -added up, a woman sees her way surer than a man. A good dog has the -best religion. He serves his master through fair weather and foul--he -heels the cattle in season, he chews his bones in season, and takes -his kicks in season. He knows the art of ready service. A woman comes -next for quick learning; but a man doesn't find the right way without -hurt.... Maud, I have something to say. I want you to understand -it now. The best man is ill put together. He may be brave, but he -runs crooked in his dealings. He may be good at heart, and a pair of -stranger eyes turn him off the course. Listen, girl ... if things ... -well if ever I turn defaulter, put all of me in the scales, and maybe a -thing or two will help pull the balance nearer straight." - -"Poor old Jim, don't talk in that heavy way! You have been too hard at -it this week. You are tired. I know of something to put you right." - -"Where are you going?... What have you there?" - -A bottle of wine was held up to him. - -"We have feasted the visitors since you went away. This is one of the -last. Don't tell father." - -"Not this time, Maud. Another day will do." - -"Do what you are told. Open it." - -He obeyed. - -"Fill both glasses and stand up." - -"What madness are you after?" - -"I said, stand up. That's right. Now hear what I have to say." She -lifted up her glass. She stood by the light of the window, but outside -side darkness was falling fast. - -"Drink, Jim, for these glasses have been filled in honour of the past -as we have lived it, and of the future as it shall be shaped. The -grape ferments, and the red wine results; lovers quarrel and good -understanding is born. The orchard blossoms, the blossoms fall to the -ground, but from the boughs come forth the fruit. Love arrives with -spiced dishes, but when the meats have staled, on the table lies the -bread of life. We are learning understanding; but other pages of that -book remain for our reading. Drink to receive the clean heart, the -straight purpose, and the good comradeship which walks with those -things. Let cowardice be unknown between us. The mistake made, we will -bare it in our hands, knowing the other will understand." - -Who knows what Power saw in that ruddy wine drunk in the darkened room? -He pledged the toast to the end. With never a word more between them -they put down their glasses. - -"The others are in the verandah," Maud said to break the spell, "you -must talk to them for half-an-hour. Come along." - -She led the way. Darkness had fallen in a clap while he ate, and lamps -had been brought outside. In the distance Mr. Wells was testing his -cornet for the evening's work. From the verandah came sounds of raised -voices, and at a first look about, the place was full of people. -Neville had kept his old seat. At the other end Selwyn appeared well -off. Mrs. Selwyn and King, with Scabbyback the mangy pointer, and -Gripper the terrier, filled less important places. Somebody smoked good -cigars. - -The battle for supremacy between the two veterans had led to a division -of honours. Neville had won his old place handy to the waterbags -and the whisky, but Selwyn had the cigars and matches at his elbow, -and was deep down in his chair, with feet resting at a great height -against the wall, as behoved a man whose health was in a rocky state, -and no mistake about it. Mrs. Selwyn endured a straight-backed chair; -and King, who liked comfort, but who cared more for peace, was poorly -served. - -The talk was broken off for a moment when Maud led in Power. Selwyn -rose to smile with great charm, and later sank back into the same seat -with reluctance, apparently persuaded to keep it against his will. The -talk flowed on again. - -"You have wakened up since I was away, Mr. Selwyn," Maud said. - -"Yes, isn't it a pest?" Mrs. Selwyn exclaimed. "We have had such a -peaceful half hour." - -One thing remained to Selwyn from the ruins of his wrecked health. He -could get his forty minutes' nap after a good meal. "Now, look here," -he had said in the bedroom before dinner, shaking a tobacco-stained -finger, "this absurd stand-on-ceremony is doing me harm. There was -excuse for staying awake the first night or two; but my infernal good -manners have carried things to an extreme. Now, look here," said he, -wagging the yellow finger, "when we have had dinner, sing to them, or -talk to the girl about clothes, or do something else; but at all costs -distract the family from me, so that I can get my sleep. I like hearing -the gentle hum of voices when I'm comatose." - -"What's your news, Power?" the old man grunted from his corner. -"Morning Springs still in the same place, I expect?" - -"Have you come from Morning Springs?" Mrs. Selwyn cried. "What a -desperate place! I stood there in the blazing sun half the day waiting -for the coach. The top of my head was coming off. The place was turning -round me." - -"Did you see anybody?" said the old man. - -"Milbanks was in. He says it is pretty dry out his way. Says things -won't be too good if the rains are late. Claney asked after you. He -has a silica show in tow. The Reverend Five-aces turned up at the -hotel a couple of nights and seemed in form." - -"He sounds a gentleman to keep an eye on," said Selwyn. "I think I -shall button my pockets when he comes to shrive me." - -"You would do better with a sixth ace in your hat," said King. "He may -be out here one day soon. He's due for a visit." - -"He lost a game when I was in," Power went on. - -"Hey!" cried the old man. "How was that, lad?" - -"Half-a-dozen of us were at the hotel pretty late, and he made one of -a bridge four. Upstairs a man was dying in the horrors. He had shouted -out all night--very badly. As time went on he grew quiet. Mrs. Smith, -the landlady, a good churchgoer, runs into the room presently. 'Mr. -Thomas, there's a man upstairs very sick. He's dying, Sir, or I'll -never live to tell another. Come upstairs, Mr. Thomas, and lend him the -comforts of the Church.' - -"Five-aces looks at her, and looks at his hand with the king and queen -there and all the royal family, and he fingers his chin and says, -'There's no call for this fluster, Mrs. Smith. He has a pretty strong -voice still. There's no call for an hour or two. Maybe I'll take a -look that way when we've played out the rubber.' - -"Half an hour later Mrs. Smith comes in again in great bustle. Oh! Mr. -Thomas as true as I mean to go light through Purgatory, he cannot last -much longer. I tell ye he'll be gone if ye wait.' - -"'Mrs. Smith,' Five-aces then says very short, and frowning down his -chin. 'I have every card to my hand. Your business will keep as long as -the rubber, it's my belief.' - -"Presently Mrs. Smith comes in again. Old Five-aces looks very black. -'It's no good, Mrs. Smith, I have just gone "no trumps." I shall get a -"little slam" out of this.' - -"'Ye needn't put yourself about, Sir,' says she. 'There's been a "grand -slam" upstairs.'" - -Mrs. Selwyn shuddered. "Mr. Power, how could you tell such a horrible -story. I feel most unwell." - -"I am sorry, Mrs. Selwyn. I won't offend again." - -"I pray the creature stays away until I'm gone." - -Neville chuckled again in his corner. "You would find him charming -until you sat down to bridge. Many is the yarn we have had over a -whisky. He can tell the best story for a hundred miles round. Maybe -better men could be found to pilot the soul to Heaven, but he can -claim always to be at the pilot's post, and that's the Bridge. There's -a good one, Maud, gel. He, he! Huh, huh, huh!" - -Mrs. Selwyn had not yet recovered. "I sincerely hope our other clergy -have a better sense of fitness," she said. - -Neville was having trouble with his pipe. "A parson comes round these -parts with a pack-horse or two every six months for a couple of days, -and that is as good as one can expect. He don't get two hundred a year -wages, and has to feed himself and his horses. With chaff round our -parts up to eighteen shilling a bag, I would shake my head at the job -myself. He don't get more than a dozen at his service, for half laughs -at him, and the other half, that would go, laugh too because the first -half laughs." - -"If he comes while we are here, I shall make a point of going," Mrs. -Selwyn said. - -"Hey, Power!" cried Neville, jerking his thumb. "Here's the whisky." - -"A good idea," said King. - -"Excellent," echoed Selwyn. - -"Father, your fight this afternoon seems to have cheered you up," said -Maud. - -"What fight?" Power asked. - -"The fellers sent Robson up to ask me to unlock the tanks. I put him -to the right-about pretty quick. A-huh-huh-huh!" - -Selwyn sat up. "Did you get much sport on your trip, Mr. Power? There -must have been some thundering good chances early in the morning. -Nobody to blunder about and disturb the game from year end to year end." - -"A man doesn't get much spare time with cattle," Power answered. "He -rides all day, and stands his two watches at night. He is inclined to -leave hunting for another time. The cook took a rifle in the waggon, -and got a turkey or two; but he sees double, and generally aims at the -wrong bird. We had sport of another kind, though, which might have -turned into something nasty." - -"Ah! How was that?" - -"On the border of this run and the next is a stretch of timbered -country called Derby's Ten Mile. It is a good bit of country, with -big holes holding water all the year, and Simpson, of Kurrajong, my -neighbour, keeps it as a horse paddock. For all the fine trees by the -river, the place has a bad name. You can't get a man of those parts to -camp there the night. There is a story of a swagman murdered on the -big hole by his mate twenty years ago. I believe the tale is true, -but whether or no, they say on calm nights something cries out in the -paddock. This time the cry will sound low down, the next time it will -come from the air, and never twice in the same place. You can find a -score of men to swear to this. Simpson assured me on moonlight nights -he has known the horses stampede from the other side of the river. - -"A carrier I knew told me an accident to his waggon once forced him -to camp there one night. It was winter, freezing hard--as cold as the -Pole--and you could hear a horse bell a dozen miles. He was sitting -over the fire thinking of turning into bed, when he heard a queer -screech by a clump of timber a couple of miles away. 'Some blanky -bird,' he says. He had come round to thoughts of bed again, when he -heard the screech a second time, and not more than a mile off, and on -the top of it every horse came flying across the dry river bed. They -went past him as though they weren't stopping this side of the sea. In -a shake the fellow had turned colder than the frost, and he was asking -himself what was the trouble, when something shrieked at him, not the -length of a bullock team off. He felt a breath of ice in his face----" - -Behind the house a fowl gave a blood-curdling death-cry. Gooseflesh -rose on the spine of the bravest there. Thanks to that self-command -which had stood Mrs. Selwyn in stead on so many occasions, she -exclaimed, "What's that?" and no more. But afterwards she owned that -for five minutes she was turning hot and cold. The cry was repeated -more faintly. Steps sounded outside, and at the same time came the -voice of Mrs. Nankervis, the cook, exclaiming out loud. Her steps -advanced in a hurry across the house. She burst through the doorway, -all wind and heavy breaths, and hands pressed to her ample sides. - -"Lord save us! There's a python got the yaller pullet under the house." - -"Python!" cried Selwyn, clapping hands to the arms of his chair. "What -size?" - -"Ah! Like that!" Mrs. Nankervis threw her arms out right and left. -"Twenty foot! Thirty foot!" - -Selwyn scrambled to his feet. "What magnificent luck!" - -"It don't go twenty foot, nor half it," said Neville, feeling for -his stick. "The small ones turn up now and then. The big fellows sit -tight in the bush. The pullet's gone. That's a pity. I reckoned on her -turning out a good layer." - -There was a pushing back of chairs. Somebody took the lanterns from the -wall. Selwyn, Mrs. Nankervis and the dogs went through the door at the -one moment. The rest of the company followed at their heels. - -But, beyond the light thrown by the lanterns, the night showed very -black, and the hurry of the party abated. The old man began to chuckle -from the rear. "Go ahead," he said. "I can see satisfactory from here. -You have got a lantern, Mr. Selwyn. Ye can get under the house. Put -the lantern round about the piles first. Unless the snake is half way -to Morning Springs, I reckon it's better to take the first look at him -from the distance. Afterwards ye can wear him for a comforter round -your neck. A-huh-huh-huh!" - -"Hilton, I entreat you to moderate your excitement and consider what -you are about. I don't know whether I am on my crown or my toes." - -Selwyn trembled with anticipation. The cigar did a step-dance between -his teeth. He seemed to grow lean before the eyes of the company. He -held forward the lantern and re-gripped his stick. Step by step he -advanced among the piles holding up the house. Bring all your eyes -to look. The hunter has gone forth to slay. Pace by pace he made his -ground. Inch by inch he obtained a more cunning hold of his staff. -Gripper, the terrier, wrinkled at the nose and very stiff at tail, -followed him to the field of battle; but Scabbyback the ancient pointer -scratched in the shadows as though digging out the very sea-serpent -itself. - -"Get out of that, you mangy muddler," Selwyn said, prodding him on the -way. - -The light from the lanterns thrust far into the shadows; and, behold, -upon a patch of sand among the piles was discovered the python heaped -in an evil mass and holding the dead fowl among his coils. Black he -showed, and dark green in places, and supple and wicked and beautiful -and fierce and fascinating and treacherous all in one glance, so that a -man must look to admire, and yet turn his head in loathing. - -"That's him! That's him!" said Neville. "And I reckoned he wouldn't -wait our visit." - -"Hilton, I implore you," Mrs. Selwyn cried. That was her single moment -of weakness. - -Selwyn hooked the lantern on a convenient ledge, where the light fell -in all corners of the battle-field. The python made no business of -departure, but stared at this hurly-burly from cold eyes in a shovel -head as big as a woman's hand. Forward went Selwyn to the combat, taut -and tucked up, but never a moment in doubt. All the while he talked to -himself, assuring all who cared to listen, courage and a stout right -hand must win, and that the gentle persuasion of a boxwood club at the -nape of the neck must settle the account even of the serpent of Eden. - -"A-ha, gently does it. Keep back, sir"--and a yelp told that Gripper -had tested the weight of his master's staff. "Kindly, kindly, is my -way. Bring a lantern this way--more to the right--more to the right. -A-ha, my beauty, allow me to introduce the friend in my hand." - -Neville wagged his head from the back of affairs. "Power, ye had better -see what he's doing," he said. "He'll be getting into mischief. That -will be a big feller when he's pulled straight." - -As Power stepped forward, Mrs. Nankervis ran out of the house with the -gun. - -"There's sense, woman," said Neville. "Hey, Power, give him this." - -Power put Maud in charge of a lantern, and took the gun. "That's rather -a risky business, Mr. Selwyn," he said. "He is too big for a stick." - -Selwyn stretched out a ravenous hand for the gun. He planted his -legs wide apart and put it to his shoulder. The great serpent, head -flattened down, stared from callous eyes. Gripper showed every tooth. -Scabbyback had found business in the distance. Mrs. Selwyn closed her -eyes and summoned all her fortitude. There was a moment when everybody -waited. A roar sounded underneath the house. The snake whipped his head -up and down again in a single movement. His coils fell apart in the -twinkling of an eyelid, and riot was let loose. Selwyn, scrambling -back, knocked the lantern to the ground, and the light jumped up and -went out. - -The python thrashed the wooden piles, embraced them, rolled free again, -knotted itself upon the ground, and fell in a writhing agony among the -hunters. - -"Give me the lamp, girl," Power cried out, "and get out quick." - -Maud held out the lamp. Power took the lamp. Power bounded back. -Something struck him across the leg. He leapt farther back. The python -in hideous pain beat at the piles and at the air. Power heard Selwyn -beside him mutter "Magnificent, magnificent." - -"Shoot, man; shoot!" Power cried. Selwyn raised the gun. Power pushed -forward the lantern to make best use of it. Selwyn fired point blank. -The uproar in the confined space was immense. There was a heave of the -coils. The python was blown in half. - -The company drew slowly near, and Selwyn fell into a grand attitude, -"A-ha," he said. "The old hand has not lost its cunning. A right and -left, and there he lies. Fifteen foot if an inch, by Jove!" - -Very terrible the python looked in death, torn about on the bloody sand -with muscles yet twitching. Mrs. Selwyn closed her eyes. "Hilton, -every day you have less consideration for my feelings." - -"He'll be a fair size stretched," said the old man, poking with his -stick. "I'm sorry about that pullet. Hold that lamp straight, Maud. -Ye'll have the glass smoked. Some of you had better get this mess -cleaned before the ants come. Shall we go back to the verandah, Mrs. -Selwyn? Snakes don't get through the fly-netting." - -They persuaded Selwyn back to everyday, and Power and he were mourners -at the funeral. While they went about the ceremony, Maud and King -wandered a little way into the dark. They could watch the sextons going -in and out of the lamplight, Power moving quickly about the matter, and -Selwyn very full of his past performance. Their own employment--finding -seats on the warm stones--was the better one, for the night was hot, as -are most nights when you go to live at Surprise. - -"Have you nothing to say to-night, Mr. King? Are a cigarette and the -dark all you want these latter days? Be wise, and give up looking for -copper by Pelican Pool. I tell you gold would not be worth the labour. -Give by, give by, and gain your right mind among the ledgers over -there." - -"There is more reading by the Pool than in all those dreary books." - -"A midsummer madness has seized you." - -"Yet I would not find cure for my folly." - -"But look at your ages. A girl of twenty has done this." - -"The young man to the matured woman; the old man to the maid. And this -is the reason. The young man looks forward to what is to be, but the -old man stares over his shoulder at what is slipping away." - -"It is a fancy that must pass. You say she neither reads nor writes." - -"She is a lantern by whose light I read the Book of Life." - -"Mr. King, are you serious this time or not?" - -"Laugh at me if you like. I know what I am loving. She is young and -wild--a flower of these hot grounds, quick come to bloom, quick to pass -away, and without a soul, even as these bush flowers are without scent. -She should sleep upon a couch of blossoms, and go abroad crowned with -garlands; and I would play the elderly satyr and pipe her through the -summer." - -Power came across. The funeral was over; but Selwyn waited yet by the -grave, smoking a fresh cigar in honour of combat valiantly fought and -splendidly won. King got up, and in the talk that started walked away. - -"Sit down, Jim," Maud said. - -"Maud, I shall not be staying to-night. I'll come across to-morrow, -though." - -"What?" she answered coldly, and frowning of a sudden. - -"I've work I must fix up. I am as sorry as you are. I shall be across -to-morrow." - -"You have never had sudden work like this that wouldn't keep." - -"Maybe there won't be any again. Come, it can't be helped. I must get -away." - -"Good night, then." - -"Don't be silly, Maud." - -"It is useless crying when a thing can't be mended. So good night." - -"You'll think better of things to-morrow. Then, there it is--good -night." - -She kissed him coldly when he bent his head; but repenting in the same -breath, she drew him to her. "Jim, you told me so suddenly, and I am -horribly disappointed. Good luck to you until to-morrow." - -He had nothing to say. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE BANKS OF THE POOL - - -Power rode out of Surprise with the hag of reproach seated at the -crupper of his horse. He would have proved poor company for a wayfarer; -but fortune left him to follow the road alone, and he pushed his fagged -mount to some pace, and ate up the distance to Pelican Pool. - -The evening had aged when he arrived on the bank of the Pool. The -hour was ten o'clock. We woo sleep early at Surprise, for she proves -wilful mistress here, and Power believed himself too late. He heard -the whimper of the dog, and a bark checked in the throat, and then the -horse jumped under him in a difficult shy. He threw a glance into the -dark for the cause, and, lo! Moll Gregory sat at the foot of a tree as -still as the trunk supporting her. At once the hag of reproach left her -seat. Moll rose from her waiting place and came forward with a little -laugh of greeting. The jealous dark stole her countenance from Power's -eyes, but her figure defied its embrace, and she came up to his horse -young and careless and bewitching. He thought of a young tree starting -on its journey towards the sky. He tightened the rein, the horse stood -still, and he fell to staring down on her. Straightway he forgot time -and the ill humours of the day. - -"You are awful late, Mister?" - -"It's a long way from Surprise." - -"I was near giving you up, and then, Mr. Power, you would have caught -it next time we met. I'm not a girl for a fellow to say yes and no to -all the day." - -"But now I am forgiven, I must get down. What about the horse? There's -not a yard round here, is there?" - -"Dad is always talking of putting up something, but I haven't seen it -yet." - -"He is quiet enough. I'll hitch him here. There's the saddle to come -off. I won't be long." - -When the saddle stood on end at the foot of a tree, and the bit hung -loose, then Power made ready for what the hour would bring. The insects -were busy, creeping down neck and ears, and crickets kept concert in -all corners of the dark. It would grow no cooler until dawn, and soon -afterwards the sun would start up into the sky. At a little distance, -a light shone through the hessian wall of Gregory's dining-room, and -sometimes a voice came from there. Power felt in no mood for the inside -of the place. - -"I have been riding all day. Where shall we sit down?" - -He was led to a seat by the tree trunk. They sat down a little apart. -Branches held a latticed canopy over them, and the lattice work let in -the starlit sky. The dog mooched round as company. - -"So you had given me up?" - -"Yes, Mister. I'd been waiting there I forget how long. Dad and Mum -started to row when we was washing up, and I flung out of the place in -a temper. I set about a bit of fishing by the Pool. It isn't bad fun -these nights. Sometimes you get a bonza haul. But it's awful dreary -sitting by the bank alone. I don't know what's took me lately, but I -get terrible tired of things. I reckon it's since Mr. King told me of -all there was to be seen away from here." - -They sat in a lap of land on top of the bank, where it fell sharp to -the water, and just now a fish leapt in the shallows. - -"Shall we fish, Mr. Power?" she said. "The rod is down there somewhere. -They were too slow when I came out, and I gave it over." - -"We will." - -They found a roadway down the bank. They found the rod. They sat upon -the bank. She put the rod over the water, and Power took a pipe from -his pocket. - -"They call you Moll, don't they? I am going to be a friend of yours. -May I call you Molly? I think it prettier than Moll." - -"Orl right, Mister. We won't quarrel over it. I reckon the mosquitoes -like fishing too. Do you fish ever?" - -"Sometimes. I shoot most when there's spare time. I like fishing -though." - -"Struth! Something's at me now. I won't yank yet. These fellers give a -good bite when they mean business." - -"Do you often come here? I've ridden by many times and watered my horse -here; I've watered a good few mobs of cattle here, too. But I never -knew how beautiful it was until I fished to-night." - -"Now and again I get fair sick of Mum and Dad, and then I come and fish -or take a walk along the bank. I like listening to the things that move -in the dark." - -"What do you hear?" - -"Oh, the fishes are always jumping in the shallows, and sometimes a -crocodile sticks his nose up, and times I surprise a turtle in the -sands. There's plenty of kangaroos thumping along for a drink--strike -me! Hark at that fellow." - -"Yes, he's noisy enough for an old man--Molly." - -"Can't you get out 'Molly' easier? There's no call to jerk your head -over it." - -"It was not hard to say. It lies gently on the tongue. And so you make -friends with the animals? If you are here in winter time you will find -the pelicans fishing at dawn, and spoonbills, too, as white as snow. -You have heard of snow, I suppose? It falls among the mountains down -South in July and August--Molly." - -"It don't come easy yet. I reckon Molly is no harder to say than 'My -Princess.'" - -"Does it fall as kindly on the ear as 'My Princess?'" - -"I like 'My Princess,' and I like Molly. I can do with two friends -since I was so long without one.... Now, what are you thinking of, -Mister? You sit staring at the Pool and sucking yer pipe. Why don't yer -talk? You are as dummy as the fishes what won't come at my hook." - -"I was thinking a week or two can make a queer change in a man's -fortune." - -"It do. Luck takes a turn times when things look dreadful hopeless. -Straight wire. I tell you I've watched the water o' nights, and thought -about settling things up. And then, like a cow to a new-dropped calf, -you fellows came along to liven things." - -"We came along one day and found you here, and now all the roads on -Kaloona run lean to Pelican Pool. Molly, do you know all you have done? -Think, Molly, a moment. Have you kind word for my friend, Mick O'Neill? -Or for Mr. King driving through the heat from Surprise?" - -"Good enough for them what they get." - -"Don't you believe in love?" - -"Mr. Power, you are too fond of questions. I shall be giving you the -rod soon to hold. Don't you think a girl may have a bit of fun? It's -awful hard when a man likes you to tell him to clear out. Wake up, -Mister; you are awful dilly sometimes. What do you see in the water to -stare at?" - -"Every 'yes' spoken now will take a deal of unspeaking later on. Tell -me, are you a little fond of Mick?" - -"I reckon there's a bite. Look at the float, and the water rippling." - -"That bite can wait your answer." - -"He's a good figure of a man, isn't he?" - -"He is." - -"He can sit a bad horse with the next man, can't he?" - -"He can." - -"He's pretty slick through scrub, and isn't the last on the heels of a -mob. I reckon many a girl wouldn't toss her head there." - -"And Mr. King?" - -"He knows how to talk to a girl; but it don't take his fat off him, do -it? He's as old as Dad; but he's shook on me, and no error. He puffs -terrible in the sun, but he comes as often as he can. He told me there -would be something for me in a coach or two, but I said he could keep -it. First I liked a bit of attention, it had been so dull; but now I -can get as good elsewhere." - -"Send him gently about his business, then, for I think loving is easier -than unloving." - -"There's not going to be any sending about business. He can come if he -wants, and he can stay away. I know how to be not at home, and he can -try his hand talking to Bluey, the dog. Now, don't start preaching, -Mister. You can go on sucking that pipe. I'm not at the call of every -feller of fifty who gets shook on me." - -"Your own troubles will come one day, Molly, and you will grow a little -kinder because of them. The new boot is poor company for the foot, and -the heart grows softer with a bit of wear and tear. And so you are -ready to punish two men, and all their crime was looking overlong into -your eyes. Are only your glances kind, Molly? Have the suns of twenty -summers baked your little heart? Haven't you a memory or two of sorrow -stored away to make you softer now? No, don't pout." - -"Mr. Power, you seem uncommon interested in other people. I don't see -call for you to worry what I do. I reckon my comings and goings aren't -your concern. Mister, you can hear well from where you are. It's time -you took a hand at fishing." - -"Have you never found time to fall in love; or have you been too busy -saying 'no?' Molly, you were born a candle, and men will come from all -the corners, like the bush insects, to scorch in your flame. Where did -you steal your hands? A sculptor would break his chisel despairing of -them. What Paradise gave you them that the bush might stare them into -decay? Molly, Molly, you must have a soul, or what sits in your eyes -all day making men drunken?" - -"Mr. Power, you're a poor fisherman." - -"Have you never loved, Molly?" - -"Maybe yes, and maybe no, and it's not you, Mr. Power, I'm starting -blabbing to." - -"Tell me." - -"Aw, you'd laugh." - -"No." - -"Straight wire?" - -"Straight wire." - -"There's nothing to tell. Some's been round that I've laughed at and -sent away, nor thought nor cared what came of them. And one or two I've -liked a little. And one or two has made me cry. But when one fellow -goes, there's another to come after him." - -"Has a man held you in his arms? Have you ever been kissed into -kindness? What are you laughing at? Don't laugh, I say!" - -"Of course a girl's been kissed. I don't think ever was a time I wasn't -kissed. Why a girl would go dummy with only an old dog as mate, and -a kangaroo or two, and maybe an old goanna to watch. What are you -frowning for? My lips aren't kissed away." - -"The jewel that takes long getting is highest priced. Let's go back -to fishing. You have told me enough.... No, I can't fish to-night. We -might be a hundred miles away from anyone down here. Sooner or later -you will go away; but I shall never ride past the Pool again without -remembering you. I shall come here every year, when the castor-oil tree -flowers, for it was flowering when first I saw Molly Gregory standing -in the doorway of her tent, holding a lantern above her head.... Isn't -it still? The night is too close.... Molly, why are you so beautiful? -Don't you know the night is in love with you? That's why the fishes -are jumping. Don't you know the kangaroo and his mate are stooping to -drink down there, that they may share the same pool with you? Molly, -a man and a girl are only young once. It is all over in a few quick -years. All life to live in that time. A world to see.... Molly, wake -up. Don't look into your lap. Your rich body is spoiling. The bush -is jealous of beauty, and would claw the fairest works with her lean -fingers. Molly, wake up and live." - -"Aw, talk, talk, and who is the better for it in the end? I can go -back to the humpy more miserable, if that is what you want. Mr. King -comes with his grand tales, and drives off in the buggy, leaving a girl -to cry her eyes out in a room of bags. I hate the bush. I would spit -it out of my mouth, as Dad spits the suckings of his pipe out at the -door. What does the bush give you? Just gives you nothing. Never a man -or a girl to speak to. Just wash up, wash up, wash up. And carry the -water from the creek. And bail up the goats when you've got them. And a -ride to the store as a treat. And make your Johnny cake half the week, -because you haven't the heart to make bread, or haven't built the oven. -And no schooling. And not a church to go to, even if you did want to. -And just the clothes to wear as nobody will take in town. And growl, -growl, growl all day from everyone round. And if you have a few looks, -there's nobody to tell you what they think of them. Oh, you don't know -how sick I am of it. I fall dreaming sometimes, and think some man -comes and takes me right away. And then Mum gets on to me for mooning. -I'll get married some day to a looney boundary rider, and live in a hut -all me life, and have a pack of children, and grow as skinny as the -best of them. If I have daddy looks then I'll sell them to the first -man who'll pay me. The first man to take me away can have me, and he -can drop me when he's tired." - -"Don't talk like that. Don't dare to talk like that. You and I will -fall out, girl, if there's much of that spoken." - -"Turning parson, Mr. Power?... Listen, there's Mum. Hallo! What is it?" - -A voice came through the dark. "Mick O'Neill's round for half-an-hour. -Aren't yer coming in? You'll go ratty moonin' there all night." - -"Coming!" - -The spell was broken. Power forsook fairyland for everyday. Moll -Gregory and he walked towards the house through the close night. The -spikes of the grasses bent under their feet, and insects voyaging -through the dark brushed their faces. Gregory stood in the doorway of -the hut, fingering his dirty beard and talking to O'Neill. "Hullo, -Moll, got company?" he cried. "Why, it's Mr. Power. Come right in. -There's always a seat inside here waiting for Mr. Power." - -"Hullo, boss," O'Neill said, "I thought you were down at Surprise." - -"I promised to look in some time or other. Good evening, Mrs. Gregory; -you have late visitors to-night." - -The company found seats in the mean room, which was hard taxed to serve -everybody. There was no change in the place since Power had gone away. -On the rough table stood the wash basin. The shelf at the back held the -crockery. The boxes stood on end for seats. The wire strainer and the -potato digger lay in the corner. Power took all in as he filled his -pipe again. - -"I reckon you make the old place lively dropping in like this," Mrs. -Gregory began, looking from one to the other, and leering at Gregory -when the time came. "Dad was saying you had been a long while away, and -must be hitched up on the road." - -"Things went like wedding bells," said Power. "We put in a couple of -days at Morning Springs. That kept us." - -"A bit of a spree?" questioned Gregory. - -"We are respectable men on Kaloona." - -Mick O'Neill had sat down, pushing his spurred feet in front of him -across the room. He had brought a new shirt on his back and had -dressed his legs in clean trousers, belted with a bright knotted -handkerchief. A hat with a gay dent in the crown had fallen upon the -table. He had arrived pleased in advance with what might befall, a -laugh prisoned in his mouth, a merry word harnessed to his tongue. He -sat there, a man forgetting the past where the present was kind; a good -fellow who must quicken the heart of any man or woman. Maybe so thought -Power, who lost little of what went round. - -"Things aren't much changed here, are they, Mr. Power?" said Gregory in -a minute or two. "A man don't feel much like putting a house ship-shape -at night after a day's shovelling. That show has got me beat. Gone down -into rock now." - -"It's time I kept my promise of a hand," said Mick. "I reckoned for you -to be half way under the river." - -"No buyers since we were away?" Power asked. - -"Mr. King still has it in his eye; but it's gaff, and he has found a -better show than mine. A-haw, haw, haw! A-haw!" - -"We've missed you gentlemen since you went," Mrs. Gregory followed up, -looking hard at the visitors. "Haven't we, Moll?" - -"Dunno. What's this, Mick? Did you bring along your music? Good lad!" - -O'Neill picked up an accordion from the floor. "You said you liked a -bit of fun. I thought to knock a tune or two out later on." - -"That's what we want here," cried Gregory very loud. "Do you think you -could find mine, mother; or was it broke up?" - -"Have a look in the tent. It was under the stretcher last." - -In a little while Gregory came from the tent blowing the dust from his -accordion, and the rest of the evening passed on speedy heels with -song and tune and dance. The dust was kicked out of the earth floor -by stepping feet, and sounds of "hurrah" startled the elderly night. -Faces flushed; voices grew loud. Gregory swung on his box, opening and -closing his arms, knocking the sweat from his forehead, and sending -abroad his "A-haw." Mrs. Gregory grown amiable watched from the back, -and busied herself presently boiling a kettle of water. - -Power left the hut for the homeward road ere the merrymaking was worn -out. The music followed him through the dark, as he saddled and bitted -his horse. He had made ready soon, and had turned the beast home. A -soft bed waited him at Kaloona instead of the couch of grasses that -had been his portion for the week. But maybe he was to sleep no better -because of it. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -HOW THE DAYS PASS BY AT SURPRISE - - -Every day of the week, at fall of dark, I grope my way here into -my tent at Surprise, light the hurricane lamp, hook it to the beam -overhead, find paper and pen, and spur myself to the telling of a page -more of this story. Sometimes a timid breeze comes through the doorway -to cool the rising temper of the night; oftener the tent walls droop on -their wooden framework; and neither pipe nor cigarette will bring me -cheer. - -The night wears on; the mosquito sharpens his appetite, and a fringe -of the great army of flying things which moves abroad in the dark, -flutters, jumps and creeps in at the doorway to the light. By half-past -eight the attack has begun. Crickets in sober grey coats, black-banded -on the legs, lead the advance; large crickets and small crickets. Great -green grasshoppers follow; long and narrow grasshoppers, broad and -deep-chested grasshoppers. Purple grasshoppers arrive on their heels; -and now they come, large and small and in all habits. At nine o'clock -they cover the ceiling, staring at the lamp with big stupid eyes; and -strange moths and flies and flying ants have begun the Dance of Death -about the globe. - -Tilt back the chair; find the towel; neck and ears must be covered for -the rest of the sitting. When the clock shows half-past nine, pack up -the papers again, and step to the doorway awhile that contemplation may -bring better humour. Then to bed. - -At last my story is well begun, and a few days must wear out at -Surprise and Kaloona before the tale moves much forward again. The cook -puts the pot to boil. Little is to show when the lid first is lifted -but the water is heating nevertheless. - -Power came riding into Surprise now and again, and little he seemed -altered, unless his temper had grown crotchety. The camp endured at -Pelican Pool. Maud Neville went about the day's work as before and, if -she was troubled ever so little so that she rose in the morning with -a faint clutch at her heart--well, few at Surprise are without their -crosses. Mr. Horrington, clambering off his stretcher, rather rocky -in the morning, finds his eye filled with the wood-heap at the back -door and a blunt axe standing by the wall, and hears Mrs. Horrington, -clinking a billycan, crunch behind him along the path to the goat pen. -Few would believe how unwell a man can feel at half-past six in the -morning with a poor night's sleep behind him, and a wood-heap at his -elbow. - -Come morning then, come night; come laughter, come sorrow--the day's -work goes forward. Saturday brings the coach bumping from Morning -Springs. Monday, eight o'clock, hears the whistle beginning again the -week. Shabby little camp set down in the wilderness, yours is the soul -of the drudge, who finds brief time for singing at her labour, who -finds still less time for tears. - -On Monday mornings they do the washing at Surprise. Mrs. Bullock, brisk -and brawny, sitting up in bed to rub her eyes, nudges Bullock from his -last ten minutes' sleep. - -"Don't forget the copper, dad. Yer left me with two sticks last time. -Yer don't expect a woman to swing an axe as well as wash and bake and -run after you from morning to night." - -Mrs. Niven, dyspeptic and dolorous, wakes Niven with her high-pitched -tones. - -"Is it going to be the same this week? What does it worry you if a -woman kills herself at the tub while you snore there all day? Look at -Boulder, Bloxham and Bullock bin up half-an-hour, I reckon, runnin' -round for their wives. And women come to me and say--'My! Mrs. Niven, -you looks very poorly lately,--and I got to say the heat has took -me dreadful, but it's runnin' after you, lifting tubs of water, and -scratching on a wood-heap for wood that isn't there that done it." - -Boulder, Bloxham and Johnson are rising up elsewhere. - -Through the morning is great bustle and to-do, a filling of pitchers, -a lifting of buckets, a running in and out of the sun to open-air -fireplaces, a prodding of clothes in coppers with sticks, wringings, -beatings, rinsings, re-wringings. The morning is gone as soon as begun. - -By noonday whistle the clothes are spread on line and bush and fallen -log; and Mrs. Bullock, Mrs. Niven and Mrs. Boulder, rather short of -breath, and distinctly short of speech, are dishing up the dinner -a minute or two late. Coming home from the mine it is well to be -discreet. Sitting down to lunch at Mrs. Simpson's bush boarding-house I -talk very small on these occasions. - -The wash dries early at Surprise and by three o'clock Mrs. Bullock, -Mrs. Niven and Mrs. Boulder are abroad again plucking the strange -things down. When the whistle blows at five o'clock the irons are put -by and the heaviest day of the week is over. - -On Mondays they wash, and on Mondays by another law, the men go forth -in clean clothes. If you are one to notice such things, you can tell -the week in the month by the shirts going to work. Mr. Carroll, -timekeeper, is especially regular this way. First and third Mondays -bring him to the office in blue tie and white trousers with an iron -mould in the seat; second and fourth Mondays show him in spotted tie -and blue trousers weary at the knees. Simpson, the butcher, clips his -moustache every first Sunday in the month, and changes from a man of -walrus appearance to a brigand with shabby brown teeth. - -But every day of the month the single boot-last of Surprise is in -demand, as one or other person sits down with a pair of half-soles from -the store to patch his boots against the ill-humours of the stones. - -Now and then of a morning, between breakfast wash-up and the midday -cooking, Mrs. Bullock, Mrs. Niven and Mrs. Simpson slip across to the -store for a packet of this or that, and any news that may be running -round. It happens often that luck chooses them the same ten minutes; -and Mrs. Boulder and Mrs. Bloxham may be passing by just then. Mr. -Wells, storeman, agile and anxious, very quick at a piece of news, very -slow at totting up an account, puts hands wide on the counter and -gives a brisk "Good morning. Turned dreadful hot, Mrs. Simpson. Looks -like summer come at last." - -"It do," says Mrs. Simpson, casting an eye about the place. - -Mrs. Bullock, leaning far across the counter, takes a look behind the -scenes; and Mrs. Niven, standing a little out of the press, lifts her -hat upon her head, drops it down again and makes speech. - -"I was took bad agen last night before bed. This is no place for a -woman, I tell you that short. I'll take another box of pills, same as -last." - -"All gone, Mrs. Niven," says Mr. Wells, bringing his hands off the -counter with a jump and shaking his head. "Not a box or bottle of -medicine nearer than Morning Springs. The last lot was very popular. -There'll be something else with the next team sure." - -"You never do have a thing in when it's wanted; that's speaking -straight," joins in Mrs. Boulder, leaning farther over the counter. -"I'll have that packet of spices down there. It's the last there is, I -dare say, and a pound of tea and two of matches, and that's all." - -"Good morning, Mrs. Bloxham. Good morning, Mrs. Boulder." - -"Good morning. Good morning. Good morning." - -"I was took bad agen last night before bed," says Mrs. Niven, "and now -I come here and find not a dose of anything in the store. This is no -land for a woman, I say, and I've said it before, and I wouldn't be -surprised if I say it again." - -"Well, Mrs. Boulder," says Mrs. Simpson, "is it true Mr. Regan won't -give Kerrisk any bread since they had the row two day back? I heard -something about it, but couldn't make a story of it. Seeing that you -came across that way, I thought you might have heard." - -"Small things don't worry me," says Mrs. Boulder, of stately and severe -aspect. "Live and let live when you're out these ways is what's to do. -I heard something last night of someone here that would be a shame to -repeat." - -"Mrs. Boulder?" comes the chorus. - -"Mr. Wells, when it comes to my turn I'll have five of sugar and a pair -of bootlaces, and see that it's a better pair than last. They didn't -stay whole two days," continues Mrs. Boulder. - -"Mrs. Boulder, what was that you heard tell?" - -"It would do better with keeping, Mrs. Simpson. Mr. Wells, that was a -beautiful tune you played last night. Yes, Mrs. Simpson, my news would -do better with keeping, but we're all friends here. Well I heard say -Mr. King over at the office there was doing a deal too much running up -and down to the river lately. It don't take much guessing to know what -that means." - -"Quite likely, Mrs. Boulder. And he isn't the only one, I dare say. -Leaving him, what do you reckon brought them two at the house up to -these parts for? Selwyn the name is. Come from Melbourne, I hear. I -heard say he was one of the heads of the Company, though I wouldn't go -much on him doing a day's work." - -"No need, Mrs. Simpson. That sort only wear white collars and sit round -a table and talk big. Mrs. Nankervis, the cook up there, told me he and -Mrs. don't hit it off, not a bit. She says it's a fact." - -"When is the girl and Mr. Power from Kaloona comin' to a point? He's -kept her waiting long enough." - -"They say he's not too keen, but she's keeping him to it." - -"There's no telling, Mrs. Bloxham. The old man would find a change -looking after himself. I wouldn't be surprised if he looked round on -his own account then. They say he was pretty gay thirty year back. Back -for home agen, Mrs. Boulder? Good morning to you. My turn now, Mr. -Wells." - -They open up the office between eight and nine of a morning, and Mr. -King, accountant, pushes up the window before finding his seat behind -the table at the far end; while Mr. Carroll, timekeeper, a mild elderly -man, takes the broom from behind the door and meekly strokes the floor -from end to end. He, too, then finds his seat. The day's work begins -pleasantly, with not undue wear and tear, as is the genial custom at -Surprise. The satisfying swish of ledger pages and the scratch of -pens are all the sounds to wake the spiders in their webs in the high -corners. - -But ruder sounds will break that cloistral peace. Old Neville, stick in -hand, the first pipe of the day in his clutch, steps down that way from -breakfast on most mornings of the week as a start on the daily round. - -"Hey!" cries he, waving his stick in at the doorway of a sudden, "What -sawn timber have we on hand?" - -Mr. King, at his ledger at the far end, thinks a long moment and makes -answer. "They had the last from the store a week ago. There's nothing -on the place until the next waggon is in." - -Half-way down, Mr. Carroll, at his time sheets, feels his chin and -deprecates the whole affair. - -"There's not a team due for three week. Someone is a fool on the lease, -and he'll not be far from here. You'd have the place stuck up between -the lot of you." - -"I made a memo we were running out a month back," says Mr. King, very -even tempered, and twisting his moustache a little. "They have got -through that last lot very soon." - -"Robson is a fool," breaks in the old man, wagging his head and coming -into the office. "I'll put him to the right-about pretty quick one of -these mornings. Goodness! Look under the shelf there. You've a colony -of white ants come. Ye'd have the place eaten down. Carroll, get the -kerosene, and give it them right away. Are you on anything that won't -keep, King? I'm going underground in a few minutes. Ye might come along -and see what's become of that sawn timber. You'll find Mrs. Robson has -told Robson to board her kitchen with it. I'll have it up agen, if I -handle the crowbar myself. I may be wrong, huh! huh!" - -"It gets hot early in the morning now," says Mr. King, rising slowly, -and leaning across to the wall for his hat. - -When you take the left-hand pathway at the office door, which leads -towards the poppet-legs standing up stiff half-a-mile away, and the -firewood stacks near the engine-house--when you take this path, you -begin to pass by much of interest. Mrs. Boulder camps here, and stands -at her doorway to remark who goes down the red path. Beyond her camp -two bachelors, beneath a sheet of calico on poles. Two stretchers stand -there, two boxes for seats, and among some ashes outside is a forked -stick thrust into the ground on which a billy hangs. - -Farther on--and on the right hand--Mr. Pericles Smith, travelling -schoolmaster, occasionally pitches his tent for his monthly stay. By -six or seven o'clock of an evening, after tea has been cleared away, -he sits in the first tent for all the world to see, getting forward -with his monumental work on the aboriginal languages of Australia. -Sometimes, indeed, he is otherwise employed. - -"Did you remember about the currants when you came by the store?" says -a woman's voice. - -"That must be indeed delightful, dear," murmurs Mr. Smith, turning over -the page. - -"You might listen sometimes. I said, did you----" - -"Instantly, dear." - -"I said, did you----" - -Mr. Smith leaps from his seat on the box. "What is it? What is it? What -is it? Goat in or out? Kettle on or off the boil? Wood chopped or wood -not chopped? Here I am. What was it? What is it? What will it be? Let -us do it all now before I sit down again." - -"You are so disagreeable lately, dear. I hardly dare speak to you." - -Mr. Smith closes his eyes. "What is it?" - -"I said, did you remember the currants?" - -"A bar of soap, a packet of candles, three pounds of rice, and currants -if they have them. No, dear, I forgot, but I shall do so shortly." He -finds his seat again, wearily. "I was at the most important place in -the chapter. Now I must find the threads again." - -Silence falls. "I think from the look of the sky there's going to be -another hot day to-morrow, dear." - -"I have done so, I am doing so, and I am about to do so again," murmurs -Mr. Smith, putting out a hand for Mathew on "Eaglehawk and Crow." - -Farther yet along the road there stands a house of hessian roof and -walls--of a moulting appearance, and yet faintly genteel as houses are -considered out this way. It stands a little apart and a little up the -hill as though it has not grown used to the vulgar neighbours of the -hollow. Within are two rooms with floors of earth beaten flat; but the -path, beginning at the doorway, is paved with red stones. There is a -pen built of wooden palings at the back, where a goat despairs out loud -all night, and near it the clothes-line sags from tree to tree waiting -for the throat of the foolish. They hang the washing at the back of -this house, lest Philistine eyes spy upon it. - -Morning by morning, about nine o'clock, Mr. Horrington, general agent -of Surprise, may be found on the red stone path in his shirt sleeves, -blinking eyes in the sunlight. It would seem he finds the new day less -depressing thus begun. An ungracious liver, a treacherous purse, an -invalid wife and Surprise to look on through the year--these things are -not pleasant to reflect on when a man has left fifty behind some years -ago. - -Every morning Mr. Horrington stands here blinking in the sunlight while -the weakly tread of Mrs. Horrington in the kitchen jars unkindly on -reflection. Every evening he stands here while the sun goes down, a -little melancholy, it may be also a little muddled in thought. To hear -once more the shuffling of Mrs. Horrington must surely not sooth a -spirit on edge. If women can spin out work through a whole day, is it -good taste insisting a man should know it? - -He stands on the red steps when Mr. Neville and Mr. King go by at -nine o'clock of the morning, blinking, very drooped at the moustache, -hunting up a full pipe of tobacco from the corners of a pouch. - -"Hey, Horrington, no business this morning?" and Mr. Horrington, -waking, finds his hat and stick and joins the walkers at the road. - -"You are along early to-day, Mr. Neville, and you too, Mr. King. I -discover I have run a bit short of tobacco until I can find the time to -get down to the store. How about a pipeful? Thanks, Mr. King. It is a -pleasure to taste again the stuff you smoke. What they sell here comes -hard on a trained palate." - -Old Neville brings his head round to listen. - -"It's an extraordinary thing about women," goes on Mr. Horrington, -planting his stick in the dust as he marches, and keeping his eyes on -the toes of his boots which lean up in sympathy. "It's an extraordinary -thing, which you must have noticed, that a woman will give you a -hammer and a couple of odd-sized nails, send you to the wood-heap and -say--'Produce me Saint Paul's Cathedral.'" - -"Did you ever do it for them?" says the old man. "How's your wife? -Is she standing the heat better this year? Maud will be along this -afternoon, she was saying." - -"My wife will be glad to see her. She gets too lonely there with me -engaged away all day. I don't think she is going to be a bit better -this year than last. Every day she finds a new complaint. Last night -she had a pain in the back brought on by the washing. Mrs. Niven -gave her some iodine, and I painted her before bed. This morning she -says she can taste the iodine. Really, I have sympathized myself to a -standstill." - -You reach the first of the firewood stacks, and as you shun it on the -right, a path leans to the left hand to the main path and wanders a -little downhill and across the flat to the hotel. Along this path Mr. -Horrington branches every morning. - -Mr. Robson, underground manager, stands by the engine shed, scratching -his chest reflectingly with a slow, lank hand. He is tall and narrow -and dreary-looking, with a big round hat like a halo on his head, and -a lean tuft of beard at his chin. He comes to life with a jerk as Mr. -Neville and Mr. King round the corner of the firewood stack. - -"Mr. King says you had the last of the sawn timber a week back, and -there's not another foot of it on the place. What have ye done with it, -man?" shouts Neville from the distance. - -Mr. Robson grows taller and leaner, and jerks his body at many angles -and plucks his beard, and nearly stirs himself to anger and immediately -grows meek again. "That's gone re-timbering the bottom of the shaft. -There's a lot of work done there, and there wasn't much timber." - -"There was timber, I tell you. Mr. King says so too. You let the men -take it from you to build their camps with. You are a fool. You'll have -to wake up. Look at that feller in the engine house! If he goes on -spilling grease like that he'll have the Company bankrupt." - -"Mr. King," says Mr. Robson, as the old man trots round the engine -house wall, "I won't be spoken to like that. I've stood enough of it, I -have. Mr. Neville will have to choose his words better from now on, or -things will be doing. One more word like the last from him and----" - -"Hi, Robson, what's this? Gracious, man, were you born with eyes shut?" - -"Coming, Mr. Neville," cries Mr. Robson, crumpling up into a run. - -And so the day wears on at Surprise; and the seven days go round and -make the week; the four weeks add up into the month. Seven summer -months and five months of winter walk in close procession until the -year has turned a circle. The cry of the new-born child may startle the -camp, and Mrs. Bullock, Mrs. Boulder and Mrs. Niven will repair to the -scene with kind hearts and right good will, that pangs may be lessened -in the hour of trial. The dead man may be laid in his red grave among -the saplings on the hill, and the clock will stop an hour that brief -blessing may be read. The birds sing and love make in their season. -Fever comes with burning hand in its season. And thus and thus the days -spin out. - -Little lonely camp, set down to war with the wilderness, not much -longer must you keep guard unaided. Presently across the plain the -first thin railway line will come, and with it will arrive timid -spirits who dared not leave such things behind. They shall make and -re-make, hammer and twist you, giving you food to grow out and out. -Your roofs shall glint in the sun, your streets shall be set with -gardens; the hum of traffic shall be your voice going up to the wide -skies. Little shabby camp, swelling presently into a great city, in the -long years which wait for you, when you have grown great and weary and -sick, it may be you will peer back into the past and covet forgotten -days. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -HOW THE DAYS PASS BY AT KALOONA - - -The long days of early summer went by on Kaloona Station. While the -last stars were leaving the sky, Jackie, the black horse-tailer, let -down the slip-rails of the house paddock and cantered into the dusk, -whip in hand, the sound of his horse dying slowly and solemnly in -the distance. The stars would faint, the first glow of dawn would -spread behind the trees upon the river, one or two birds would tune -their throats a little while. Light would grow. Presently, advancing -horse-bells cried across the distance, Jackie's whip banged out in the -stillness, and the thud of many hoofs striking the ground rumbled from -afar. With a brave chiming of bells, the horses would come home. - -Mrs. Elliott, the cook, and Maggie, the maid of all other work, arose -betimes on these long days. There was much to do. Mr. Power would come -looking for breakfast; breakfast called for a lighted fire. There was -the woodbox to visit, and horrid little Scandalous Jack to dress down -should it be empty. Mrs. Elliott, ample and beaming, and very gay when -you knew her well, pushed her stout leg from the sheets of a morning -while the world was still grey. "Come on, Meg; it's time we was moving." - -The place was well awake when the sun looked over the edge of the -plain; a clatter going forward in the kitchen, the parrots whistling in -their cage by the window, the gins yabbering at the doorway of their -hut, the voices of men raised down at the yards. There Power gave -O'Neill the orders for the day, and Scandalous Jack moved everywhere, -full of importance and loud talk. The horses stood in the yard, and a -man or two went about the morning feed. - -Kaloona stands upon the river in a noble stretch of timbered country. -The timber shelters the homestead on three sides, and falls back to the -brink of the water. At high noon on a summer day you will find cool -places under the trees where a man may lie in fair content. There is -always a bird or two flitting among the boughs, with a bright call in -his bill. - -Very fair grows Kaloona by moonshine or by starshine on summer nights; -the water sleeping, the night loud with insect voices, the sound of -splashes in the shadows. - -Summer finds it a fair spot; but winter brings it loveliness with both -hands. The breath of the frost comes down at night, and sends a man -abroad at dawn blowing his fingers, and throwing an eye to the East -for the lie-a-bed sun. It comes at last, big and red, tumbling over -the country in long jolly beams. Now in tree and bush begin the birds, -calling, whistling, crying, mocking. The pelican is pouting his breast -in the river, and the spoonbill shovels in the mud. - -After breakfast comes the saddling up, and many a clever rider can lose -his seat when the frost is in the air and the young horses leave the -yards. - -Spring is nigh as lovely. The parrot flashes his colours in the sun, -the bright-breasted finches swing in the bushes. The slim black -cockatoo sweeps overhead, and the sulphur-crest screams in the high -branches. A fair spot is Kaloona by the river. - -Life has ups and downs there. Much work there is to do sometimes--hard -days in the saddle, with short rations now and then, and a bed at -the end under the sky. Slack times come in their turn, when the -hours arrive empty-handed--and those first long summer days, when -the musterers had come back from Morning Springs, supplied little -employment after the bustle round in the morning. It was the season -for a man to look about and put himself in repair; mend his whip, teach -his dog manners, patch his boots and the like. When the sun was in the -middle of the sky, and the iron roofs of the homestead and the huts -cracked out loud in the heat, a man could lie on his back and smoke a -pipe, and so find content until evening. - -It was never Power's way to hang about the homestead, unless work kept -him there; but some evil spell had fallen on him these latter times, -causing him to prowl at home at idle end. He grew crotchety these -days, hard to please and poorly pleased even when things were well. -There were mornings when he saddled a horse and rode over to Surprise, -returning as gloomy as he went, and again, as evening came on, he rode -away, leaving those behind him to guess his errand. - -"Mrs. Elliott," said Maggie one breakfast, putting her hands to her -hips and talking very straight, "the boss has turned cranky of a -sudden. There's no getting yes or no out of him. It's no good to me. -I'll be letting fly." - -Mrs. Elliott gave answer. "Don't be in a flurry, Meg. All men are -alike. They get took that way now and then. They're as hard to get -forward sometimes as a full-mouthed ewe in the dipping yards. Don't -be too quick on him yet. Maybe he's fell out with Miss Neville at -Surprise, and is in the sulks." - -Unlucky Scandalous pushed his face through the kitchen doorway. "What's -come to the boss of a sudden? He's as cross-grained as you like. Took -it out of me just now because he reckoned the place was untidy down -there." - -"And a good thing too," said Mrs. Elliott, turning sharp about. "If you -spent more time on the woodheap, instead of sneaking up here minding -other people's business, you might be took up less often." - -One morning at breakfast, when Mrs. Elliott had bustled to put -something special on the table and had not had "Good morning" for her -pains, as Power sat gloomy, despising his food and chewing thought, she -took him to task. - -"Mr. Power," she said, putting down a new cup of tea, and taking up a -stand before him, "what's come on you that you give up the horses and -stand twiddling your thumbs?" - -"There's no work outside." - -"That's the first time that's ever been. What are them horses doing in -and out of the yards every day, and not a leg put across them?" - -"It's too hot to ride about for nothing." - -"Nothing? The best horses in the country hanging their heads because -nothing doing? I never heard of a run which wasn't the better for -looking after. Do you know what they say at Surprise? They say Simpson -gets half his meat uncommon cheap, so cheap that it only takes him a -quiet ride at times when Kaloona's asleep to fill his yards for the -morning. They say he is a quicker man at hiding a branded beast than -any feller on Kaloona is at finding one." - -"I've heard that story. He doesn't get many, and he'll drop in in good -time." - -But Mrs. Elliott had her way, though, like a wise woman, she raised -no flag of victory. Breakfast over, Power found the way to the yards, -caught a horse, saddled it, took a waterbag, some midday tucker and a -whip, and rode away at a foot pace across the plain. He spent all day -in far places, leaving the homestead when the sun was low, and finding -himself several miles away from home when the sun again was climbing -down the sky. He never pushed his horse beyond walking pace, but -neither did he rest it; and many miles were put behind before the day -was done. He passed from point to point, wherever there was water or -a clustering of timber, wherever there was chance of coming up with a -mob of cattle. He knew that wide country as another man knows the floor -of his office, and when he wished kept course as the arrow flies. Once -or twice he drew taut the rein, and stared at faint prints upon the -ground; and such halt might bring change of direction. He spent the -middle of the day on his back in a fair clump of timber, but saddled up -again while the sun was far up in the sky. - -He judged it to be five o'clock at last, and he was still an hour's -ride from home. He was heated to his bones by the long journey in the -sun, the coat of his horse was curled with sweat; he was jaded, fagged -and thirsty. - -He took his hat from his head, and pushed it between the surcingle and -the saddle. The sun was losing strength at last; a breeze was finding -the way from the South. His shadow and his horse's shadow were growing -longer; the crickets were tuning their orchestra against the evening, -but in spite of their shrill cries, the plain, which had been hushed -all day, had grown more hushed. - -He looked again at the sun, which was a bare half-hour from its going -down. The red glare dazzled him, and when he dropped his eyes, the -white stones on the ground changed to blue. He looked up to get the -light from his eyes, and found he was passing under the crag of one -of those sudden hills which climb high out of the plain all over that -country. It stood above him, lofty, sheer and lonely, grass-covered for -a hundred feet of the journey, thence forward to the summit, piled -with immense bare boulders, carrying a few shrunken trees. - -Looking up, a freak of mind urged him to stand on the highest point -there. He slacked rein and got to the ground. A bush stood convenient -to hand to secure the horse. He took off the saddle, and rubbed away -the saddle mark. Then he turned for the ascent. - -The hill lifted up abruptly from the plain, several hundred feet -towards the sky. There was no gentle slope of beginning, and Power -began a heavy clamber over giant boulders, shabbily clad with coarse -clumps of grass. Immense fat spiders watched him from the middle of -giant webs strung from rock to rock, lizards and insects hurried in -and out of crevices, and shrill voices of crickets met him from above, -and came after him from below. The southern breeze was bolder as the -journey advanced. Half way up the steep, where the grassed boulders -ended and the bare rock began, he stood still for new breath. Already -he had gained a strange world, high out of the plain, and the horse was -far and puny, among the tumbled rocks, which broke like surf at the -foot of the hill. - -The summit was high above him yet. He began the journey again, using -his hands as well as feet for the last pinch. He was on top at last--a -broad, flat space, where a little grass and a few bushes grew, with a -patch or two of fine sand among the tumble of rocks. On three sides the -hill fell down in steep faces, up one of which he had climbed; but to -the South it dropped sheer in a hundred foot precipice to grassed rocks -piled up to meet it. Because the sheerness of the fall fascinated, and -because that way the breeze blew steadily into his face, Power sat down -on the edge of the cliff, with the sun sinking on his right hand. - -He who was so used to great distances was filled with wonder and -delight. He stared from his high seat. He looked upon an ocean torn up -in storm; but it was larger than the seas of his travels. The waves -of this ocean were hills cast up from the lap of the plain, as the -sea wave is scooped high up by the rage of winds. The resemblance was -exact. The country swept up and down for miles and tens of miles, -everywhere heaping up its waves and striking them immovable as they -leant to their fall. The mellow light of evening turned the bare -pasture into ocean green. Only was lacking the grind and swish of -waters in rage. It was ocean conceived by giant mind and struck still -by giant hand. - -Presently, as the first wonder passed away, Power took the details -into his eye. It was not all green country on closer look. There were -patches of grey and patches of slate where the long sunbeams fell on -tall rock faces. There were veins of shining white quartz pushing from -the ground, hinting at unknown copper, which one day would be torn from -its hiding place. There were red patches of bare earth, which the green -seas were seeking to devour. There were greens and greener greens, but, -look ever so long, the effect of ocean remained. - -It was far down there to the foot of the precipice and to the top of -the rocks; and there were other rocky places infinitely farther down, -as though making part of another world. Dwarf trees sucked a living -from them, and the sunbeams stole the roughness from their face. They -would be warm to the touch. At the mouth of every cleft and cave sat -a wallaby with pricked ears and black face, performing toilet before -moving abroad for the night. Sometimes the little beast sat on a point -of rock, holding paws neatly before him, squinting at the sun and -turning suddenly to nip his back. Not one took notice of the strange -man who watched from so far above. - -Power was high up--high up. The tops of all those other hills were -nearer earth than he. There was nothing between him and the sky. Two -or three small birds, black with white tags to their tails, skimmed to -and fro overhead and twittered cheerily. Other birds were fluttering -and squabbling in the bushes, as though this hill was their nightly -bedchamber. Strange and happy thing a bird; able to choose its walks -on mountain or in meadow, able at will to breast fierce winds of high -places, or pipe a lay in gentle noontide bower. Strange and happy thing -a bird to throw care away, clap wings and seek new worlds. - -Power was high up--high up, and only these skimming birds between him -and the sky. He had left the world behind him when he took in hand the -climb; but like a fool he had brought his bag of care slung upon a -shoulder. He had forgotten it a minute or two when first he looked from -here; but now he found it again, full stuffed to the throat. - -How would this struggle end? Was he soon to perish in a tempest of -longing and self-hate? Was this thing called love? Did love stop the -clock of a man's day, and leave him to wag his hands like a dotard in -the chimney corner?... - -Look again and again--the idea of ocean stayed with this wide scene. -For miles and tens of miles the waters heaped and fell. He had seen the -resemblance always, whenever he looked from one of the hilltops, and -the sight had pleased before. Now it annoyed. Why so? Easy the answer. -Torn sails and a banging rudder--a rage of winds and a lee shore--a -frowning night and an unknown port--that was a man's life.... - -The breeze was strong and cool up here--steady, straight-blowing from -the South. It passed across the hill and went on its way. The sun was -hurrying westward. Ah, to snatch wings from these skimming birds, and -ride with the breeze, or hurry on the heels of the sun as it brought -morning to new lands.... - -The sun was aged and kindly now; the great country was hushed. The -birds were at their good-night hymn, the insects accompanied it from -the ground. The little furry animals below were leaping from their -dens, and stretching limbs in the warmth. Peace everywhere but in -him. Fool! there was no peace down there. The birds made glad song as -they made supper; but what of the flies they hunted down? And were -those little beasts below better off? Somewhere the dingo yawned; and -the python waited at the waterhole. They might not all return in the -morning. What was happening to the tiny things which found a world in -the grasses and under the stones? Peace? It was like some fair face -from which you tore the loveliness to discover the skull behind.... - -The little black birds had flown away leaving him alone there. The -other birds in the bushes had given up their squabbles. In a minute -the sun would touch the horizon, and the sky would drink of his last -glances. There would be a brief darkening before the stars leapt into -their places. But he sat on, unready of purpose.... - -Why had he chosen to war with great forces? What was he better than a -herder of cattle, with few thoughts beyond the needs of the day? Such -terrors were gathered against him as might have assailed a prophet of -olden time, scowling at the mouth of his cavern. - -There was a soul in the body, or why did he deny the pleadings of the -body? There was a soul in each body which endured while its house -rusted, a light burning steadily in a chamber While a storm outside -beat and aged the walls. Yet he could not deny the body to aid the soul. - -His love for this young girl was like a great wind passing through a -house, clashing and clanging casements and doors. If he sheltered from -it assuredly he would perish. He would soon be ill in body as now he -was sick in mind. One hour a night he rode down to the Pool, and for -that one hour he endured the day. - -She was making him mad. She walked with him on tops of mountains. She -led him by the hand into cavernous places awful with lightnings. She -sat on the lips of Spring, dropping blossoms through her fingers. She -was a perfume from the East. She was a wine from a land of grapes. The -dreams of a world looked from her eyes. The passions of a world waited -on her lips.... - -The sun had set and but a minute of time gone. In another such instant -darkness would have dashed a mantle round the earth, and the stars -would have leapt out of the sky. The way to the bottom was stony. He -must be home.... - -Day had done its business and departed, and he sat wringing hands as it -rushed away. Not again--if he would call himself man to-morrow. - -Good-bye. It had a hollow sound. Good-bye--never again to see her. To -ride no more the road to the river. To forget October brought blossoms -to the castor-oil tree. To clap shut his ears when her voice called.... - -The descent was rougher than the climb. Was he bruising his hands -because the day had darkened, or because dark had come down on his -hope?... - -Once more to saddle his horse. Once more to take the road to the Pool. -Once to say good-bye. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE PARTING BY THE POOL - - -Now his mind was made up, he felt weakness leave him. Trouble never -nagged when there was work to do. The horse waited to be saddled at -the bottom of the hill, which task he did with the speed of long -custom. He had chosen for the day's work the little chestnut mare which -carried him from Surprise the night he met Moll Gregory. He had chosen -well, for she was staunch and willing--without airs and fancies. Once -he turned her towards the river, she held the way like a prim Miss -travelling to school. - -The sky was green as he came down the hill; colour faded from it; -darkness fell upon the whole country. The stars took their places in -the sky, and began the slow turning which he had watched so many years -now that they told him the month and the hour as might a clock. - -The breeze had lessened to a tremble as he climbed down to the -plain, and the night clapped a warm breath upon him. Distant summer -lightnings flicked across the lower skies. The feet of the stepping -mare trod evenly upon the pebbles and on the bare earth. He chose her -often for the day's work because of the speed of her walk; but to-night -she seemed turned sluggard to enrage him. Yet the road was falling -behind. The hill he had climbed was far over his shoulder. The Conical -Hill of Surprise had risen on the horizon. Now the green belt of timber -was hinted at a few miles ahead. Now he saw it with distinctness. -Thought took hold of him again until he found himself in the desolate -strip of country where the floods ran in the rains. The warm night was -wrapped about him. Crickets shrilled everywhere. Several times sounded -the thump of startled kangaroos. Lightnings flickered without pause -above the outline of the hills. It seemed to him he was part of great -music working in crescendo. - -Here was the Pool. He knew it was the Pool; but it was too dark to -discover the waters. She lived here. He would see her in a few moments. -He would see her. He would see her in a moment. He lived through the -long day that he might see her a little while in the night. He would -see her again when this slow beast had trodden a little farther. - -Suddenly he grew cold with such a greediness of cold as the passion of -the tropic night could not appease. He had come to say good-bye. In -half-an-hour he would be moving away from the Pool, nevermore while -she lived there to ride that way. He could not do that. No, not he. He -was but a man. His shaking body was a man's body. He was unworthy to -be battleground of contending right and wrong. Not to-night. He could -not make an end to-night. To-morrow, but not to-day.... A moment ago -he rode by the beginning of the Pool, and now he passed the castor-oil -tree. The trees were breaking apart. There stood the hut and the tents. - -From a chaos of fancies he presently took hold upon realization. In the -doorway of the hut, looking towards him through the dark, stood Moll -Gregory. Lamplight from inside passed her and pierced the night with a -long beam. She held an empty basin in her hands. The dark was clear to -him who had ridden half-a-dozen miles through it; but she looked before -her in a puzzled way. - -"Is that you, Mr. Power?" - -"Yes, Molly." - -He believed he shook when he spoke to her. She was a draught of water, -chilled by snows from high peaks, offered into the hands of a dying -man. How she impassioned the night with her loveliness. He would never -find her beauty staling, though he looked on her for ever. All the -moments of a day brought new emotions watching from her eyes, new -passions sitting upon her lips. He never knew how holy beauty might be -until he looked upon her. How the light shone on her brown hair, lying -coiled on her head and brooding round her brows. - -He found he had pulled up the mare in the doorway. - -"I've come to see you, Molly." - -Why did she not answer, instead of standing like that, tapping the -basin on her knee and looking first at him, and then away, and then -at him again? Did she understand at last he loved her? Another man -kneeling in homage to her. She was frowning a little bit. He found -himself dismounting. The dog, grown friendly now, came forward with -waving tail. The hut was empty. - -"Mum and Dad went over to the shaft a while back," she said just then. -"There's nobody here." - -He led the mare a little way away; tethered her; unsaddled her. She -drooped her head after the day's work. Another hour he would have led -her to drink; but now where was the time? - -The girl had gone indoors when he returned to the hut. She stood by -the table putting the crockery into the basin. The room was heavy with -heat. The lamp wick was untrimmed, smoking a little and lending a -needy light. Nothing was changed. - -"Them is to wash up," she said. - -He was living again, standing thus beside her. Yet he was weary with -knowledge that he waited on her for the last time. He grew entranced -with her quick hands in the basin. She nodded her head to the dish-rag -hanging on the wall. He took it and faced her across the table, and -together they began to wash up. - -He knew then that whatever waited for him in the long years to be lived -before he became an old man--whether there were other women to meet -and other lands to travel--these moments he was living now would walk -with him in memory to the very shadow of the grave. That strange mood -visited him, which sometimes comes to a man, when he stands out of -himself and views the scene as onlooker. He peered into future years, -when Maud and he journeyed kindly down the road together, and the worst -wounds of this summer madness were crusted over. But he knew there -would be hours when certain winds blew, or certain scents drifted out -of the scrub, or certain words were spoken, when he must go apart a -little while until memory slept again. - -The mood passed as instantly as it arrived, and once more he stood -before her weary and miserable. She would tire of a glum face soon. -He had carried a long face lately when they walked together. Beauty -she, and he the Beast. Strangely she had passed it by. She was still -wilful and careless, yet now she had moods when she was thoughtful and -a little kind. Never was she heavy-hearted; though to-night she frowned -just a little and was as silent as himself. He heard a rattle of cups. -Within his heart--growing and growing with the moments--feeling was -in torrent, until it seemed excess in him must overflow and fill her -barren little heart. They chanced to look up at one moment from their -work--up and out at the door--and a great white star fell down the sky. - -"Do you know what people say, Molly? Every falling star is a soul -hurrying from earth." She shrugged shoulders with faintest movement. "I -think a man's soul dies, Molly, when hope dies. Perhaps some man's hope -has died to-night." - -For an instant she turned wide grave eyes upon him, then she went back -to work, moving her hands deftly in and out of the basin. - -"Molly, you could get along without me, couldn't you? If I had to go -away for a while and could not come back, you would not be lonely with -other friends to look after you. You have been a good little comrade -to me; but I think our friendship was not meant to die of old age. -You could get along without me, couldn't you--and Molly, you wouldn't -forget me just at first?" - -"No, Mister." - -"I asked you not to call me Mister. Say Jim." - -"No, Jim." - -She had finished washing up. She went out into the dark and threw away -the water. She found a second cloth, and began quickly to dry the cups -he had lingered over. - -"You aren't so slick to-night," she said. "You are pretty slick at this -kind of thing for a man." - -"I was round the run to-day. I came here from across the other side. -The Pool is shrinking fast, Molly." - -"The rains should be here, Christmas." - -"It might be a pool of love, and all the drinks men take from it shrink -its rim. Molly, are you as clever as you pretend at forgetting? If -something happens, so that I come no more to the Pool--when you go -alone to fish or when you go with others, will you remember that once -or twice you fished with me?" - -"You aren't to go away. Sometimes I think you couldn't." - -The work was done. She turned with a graceful movement of her body as -she said the last words, and was putting the cups and saucers on the -shelf, and the spoons with a rattle into a box. - -"Hang up the cloth, Jim, and wake up. You aren't always asleep. I heard -something about you yesterday. They say you are such a daddy man with -horses that when you camped out Brolga way, the brumbies came down from -off Mount Sorrowful to sing to you. Ah, Mister, I have got you smiling." - -"I'm not Mister." - -"Jim." - -Silence fell again, and once more he grew conscious of the little -sounds that accompanied the flight of time--the flutter of wings round -a lamp; the swish of a girl's dress; the cries of insects from the -dark. It was like standing by a river filled to both banks, which -swept swiftly and smoothly to the sea, and hearing the small voices of -multitudinous waters.... What did she say now? - -"I found them specimens this morning. They was a little higher up the -bank. Do you want to see them? They aren't far." - -"We went to find them the first day I came here, Molly. Do you -remember? It does not matter now. I shall remember we never found them. -Come outside. I have a lot to say to-night. It will be cooler there, -and talking is easier under the trees." - -Then he found himself walking among the trees. She was on his right -hand, and water glimmered in the distance. Summer lightnings were -flickering in the skies. This night was as last night had been. Last -night was as the night before had been. He could not believe they -walked together for the last time. Yet Time moved out here, and Death -found work to do. A clumsy beetle had blundered out of the dark, -finding harbourage upon her fair hand. She had crushed it with a little -blow, and the body had fallen in the grasses to wait the busybody ants. -How much was starting and finishing just now over all the wide world? - -They passed up the Pool with only a word or two spoken between them, -searching the water when the fishes jumped, listening to the creatures -pushing through the undergrowth, staying to look at strips of water -starred with white lilies. Her sober mood passed away as they went on. -Wantonly she dropped to her knees and gathered up twigs to cast into -the water. He heard her laughter in the dark like a peal of low bells. -Then he found they had reached the end of the Pool, and the hut was far -away. - -"Molly, this is the end. The water finishes here. I have something to -tell you. Are you listening, Molly? It only takes a moment to say. -Good-bye. That's a strange word, isn't it? Have you heard it before? -Well, to-night we are saying good-bye." - -Until the word was spoken he felt he might never need to say it; but -now it was said, and the night had turned deaf ears on his call for -mercy. He saw her plainly in the dark standing before him petrified, in -all her wonderful beauty, alert as though about to flee, with her great -eyes wide open looking at him. She had clasped her hands together in -front of her. - -"What's took you now, Mr. Power? No, stay there. I can hear where I am." - -"Don't start, Molly ... I have something to tell you.... I didn't mean -to tell you. But why not tell you?" - -"Stay there, Mister. Don't look like that. I don't want to know. Let's -go home. Don't look like that. You----" - -"Stop your sweet chatter, Molly. Listen, I say. I love you. I am -starving for want of you. Feel my hand, Molly. It trembles like the -hand Of a man in fever. Feel it, I say." - -"Mister!" - -"I am burning. I am burning inside and out. Let me touch your hand. -Give me your hand a moment to cool me. Give it to me, I say." - -"Mr. Power, don't make me cry. I don't----" - -"I am going away. Do you hear me. I am going away never to see you -again. Other men are to have your kisses. Your bosom is to beat on the -breasts of other men. My lips shall go unwashed. My heart shall thump -in an empty drum. Do you hear me?" - -"Don't talk so loud, Mr. Power. Don't look like that. Mr. Power, don't -come so near. Please, Mister; please!" - -"I am going away, Molly. I told you that, didn't I, just now? I have -come to see you for the last time. I have--Molly, all the fires of -heaven and hell are lighted in your eyes. You are doomed to live -burning men's hopes to ashes. Molly, the breeze is in your hair. It -flutters there, as your little soul flutters somewhere in your lovely -body. Let me touch your hair once--oh, so softly it shall be. Once." - -"Mister!" - -"Once." - -"Mister!" - -She was in his arms. He never remembered how they came together. But -all the parched streams of spirit and body were loosed in a flood -of waters. He was kissing her lips. He was kissing her eyes. He was -kissing her throat. Her hair touched his hair. Her hair was in his -mouth, and the sharp taste of it made him mad. He began to kiss her -in frenzy, until she ceased to struggle and lay in his arms sobbing -and laughing. He crushed her to him. He kissed her mouth again. He -kissed her eyes again. Again he kissed her hair. He kissed her brows. -He kissed her throat until the red marks rose in the brown skin. He -pressed his head against her bosom where her heart struck wildly. He -felt her tiny teeth against his lips. He buried his face in her coils -of hair. He held her two hands and covered his eyes with them. He -kissed their palms. He laid soft kisses in her eyes. He lifted her -from the ground. He fell upon his knees and laid her in the grass, -and himself fell down beside her. He interlaced her fingers with his. -He drew each open hand of hers slowly about his cheek. He lifted her -from her grassy bed and pressed her to him. The coarse stems of plants -pushed about his face. Great grasshoppers leapt from their beds into -the dark. The stars seemed to blink and flash. He pressed his mouth to -hers again, and held her there through an eternity. And then he fell -down beside her with his face in the grasses, hearing her tiny sobs, -and, more tremendous than that, the shrill of the insects, and more -tremendous than the chorus of insect voices, the living stillness of -the night. - -After an age, he raised himself on both hands, lifting his head above -the grass stems. She lay close by, her face turned away, and her heavy -hair ragged with little leaves and tiny twigs. She was sobbing very -quietly. It seemed to Power he and she lay at the bottom of a deep -pit whence he and she had tumbled in headlong flight from the stars. -Brave boasts fled in wind. Big words gone in sound. "Traitor" seared in -red letters across his soul. A harvest to reap from this sowing. What -harvest to reap? Would this child learn to love him as he loved her? -No. He believed already her little heart beat to other time than his. -Well, the draught had proved too bitter for his tasting. He had put -down the cup as it touched his lips. - -He raised himself to his knees and bent over her. "You must get up, -child. It won't do to lie like that. Crying has never mended matters -since the world began." - -He found her hand and she answered his touch, rising slowly, and -presently standing up. He stood beside her and tenderly picked the -rubbish from her hair. She stooped to smooth her dress, and afterwards -he kissed her once, and they turned towards home. They did not speak -all the journey by the water; but he thought the stars stared down on -them like dismal virgins whose virtue has grown strong with loveless -years. Sometimes he held a bough aside that she might go by. At the end -of a long time they were by the castor-oil tree, and light from the hut -shone through the dark. - -"Don't come home," she said. "Not to-night." And she had slipped away -in a moment through the trees, while he stood staring where she went. - -He saddled the mare in brief space. He could look into the distant -lighted hut; but it was empty. She was not there. He drew the reins -together on the chestnut's neck and gained the saddle. When the mare -found her head turned home she started away primly at her swift walk. -He gave the reins to her neck. But they had not put behind half a mile -of the journey when the steps of a second horse approached, and a -whinney came through the dark. - -"You, Mick?" - -"Hullo, boss." - -They pulled up with one accord. He saw O'Neill in the dark, wearing -a wide-brimmed hat, a shirt open at the neck, riding trousers and -leggings below, and long spurs strapped at his heels. His happy smile -had departed, and Power knew he was face to face with the first reaping -of his harvest. - -"I haven't got back yet," he said. "I went as far as the big hole past -the Ten Mile, and then round Mount Dreary way. There were a couple of -mobs by the water--doing right enough." He came to the end of what he -had to say. O'Neill sat gloomily, tapping the arch of his saddle with -his fingers. "I looked in at the Gregory's a bit on the way back." -Power added. - -Then O'Neill spoke. His old swagger came into his bearing, and he -lifted his head defiantly. "Boss, do you reckon you are on the square -game down there?" - -Anger blazed in Power's face. He felt a weight upon his chest and the -chords of his throat tighten. But he had caught hold of himself before -the words left his lips. After a long moment he said almost gently: -"Fast talking won't do us good, Mick. It looks that the road is pretty -rough for you and me just now. We were friends before ill-luck sat -down between us. It is a poor crush that won't hold the beast when the -branding starts." - -O'Neill stared gloomily at the neck of his horse. "Boss, it's no game -I'm playing there, I swear. It's no come-and-go affair with me." - -"And how is it better for me?" - -The man flashed up his head. "Miss Neville," he said. - -The pain in Power's face told the rest of the story. A moment later -Power spoke. - -"A man has his life to live, and wins or loses as his turn comes. One -of us must finish on top; but it needn't break our friendship." - -"Straight wire you mean it, boss?" - -"Straight wire." - -He found the mare, fretful of delay, was moving down the road. O'Neill -had gathered up his reins. Without more talk they were moving--each -going his way. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -SELWYN HEARS SOME NEWS - - -The sun climbing round the base of Conical Hill at daybreak next -morning, found Selwyn already abroad, and in the very best of humours. -The gentle trickle of last night's nightcap down his gullet had warmed -the very cockles of his heart, so he told a mud-lark discussing an -early worm among the saplings. He was outside before the day was -properly alight, standing on the front verandah, hands deep in pockets, -legs set apart, sniffing the remnants of a night breeze, which had -not yet fled the sun's wooing. Finding his spirits insisted upon more -active affairs and discovering no prospect of breakfast for a while, he -picked up his stick, which he only exchanged for gun or fishing-rod, -and took a turn round the back premises, where there might be matters -to occupy a fellow until people thought fit to give up slugging in bed. -Rheumy-eyed Scabbyback, rising morosely from a sack, was prodded good -morning, and Gripper was accorded even more gracious welcome, being -unchained and allowed to follow on the march of discovery. - -Selwyn called out good morning to old Neville, as he passed towards the -mine on early business, and presently seduced into talk Mrs. Nankervis -as she bustled in and out of the back door on the work of breakfast. -He presided at a difference of opinion between Gripper and a blue -billygoat with the beard of the Prophet, which ruled the tattered herds -of Surprise. He had just come to an end of everything, including his -good humour, when news arrived that breakfast waited. - -Mrs. Selwyn and Maud were already in the dining-room. Hands came out of -his pockets. "By Jove!" he said. "Good morning. Here you are at last. -It is wonderful how people like to loaf in bed." - -"It is the only morning you have been down first for a week," Mrs. -Selwyn answered sharply. - -"What about 'a man's work may be early begun; but a woman's work is -never done,' Mr. Selwyn?" Maud said. - -Selwyn changed the conversation. He put on his most genial smile. -"Your father out again to-day? I suppose he won't be back yet? Am I to -preside again, Miss Neville?" - -"If you won't mind. Shall we sit down?" - -Maud took her place at one end of the table and poured out tea. Selwyn, -with a good deal of noise, pulled up a chair at the other end and -began to lift dish covers. Mrs. Selwyn found her seat half-way down -and prepared to be as gracious as possible, in spite of feeling most -unequal to the task. What she endured daily at this ghastly place, -nobody could possibly comprehend. And she had foreseen it all so -clearly with that capable brain of hers! Never again should Hilton -overrule her. - -A first inspection of dishes revealed, besides a noble ham, procured -from the coast in honour of visitors, eggs, a wallaby stew, and -lastly--red, rich, and done absolutely to the last turn--a thick piece -of rump steak, beyond any doubt the best bit Selwyn had ever seen since -leaving the South. Quietly the cover went down upon that dish. - -"Now, who will have wallaby stew?" said the master of ceremonies, with -the charm of manner which beguiled so easily the uninitiated. "You will -have some, of course, dear?" - -"I shall have nothing of the sort. I shall have an egg." - -"Very well, dear; but you are making a mistake. Miss Neville, you will -have some, of course." - -"Don't pester the wretched girl with it every morning." - -"Of course she would like it," came irritably from the president. -"Wallaby is a great luxury. You ought to be very glad I am able to get -it for you. This is the only place I have heard of where they want to -throw it on the midden." - -Selwyn began to heap a plate. - -"If I must have it, Mr. Selwyn, not so much, please," Maud said. - -"I don't know why you pester everyone to eat your things," said Mrs. -Selwyn, continuing the attack. - -"I hate seeing everything I shoot wasted," Selwyn replied, testily. - -"Then let the dogs have it." - -"No. I like seeing friends enjoy it." - -"Then eat it yourself." - -"I can't. It doesn't agree with me in the morning." - -Maud made peace by accepting the dish. Mrs. Selwyn cracked an egg. -Then--then only--Selwyn uncovered the rump steak. - -"By Jove!" he said. "I'm sorry. There was steak here had anyone wanted -it. I am afraid I'm rather late for you now." - -He put the fork gently and deeply into the juicy square of meat, and -lifted it bodily on to his plate--regretfully, as though only good -manners persuaded him to choose the untasted dish. Next, collecting -round him the necessaries for an ample breakfast, he settled to his -task. - -Breakfast over, Selwyn decided on a stroll. It was too late in the -day for a shot, and he could take a turn with a gun in the evening. -A stroll was better than hanging about a house trying to amuse two -women. He visited the back again and loosed his bodyguard. The mangy -pointer in its dotage sprang heavily upon him in joyous good morning, -and tested the weight of his stick. Gripper led the van. The momentary -irritation of breakfast had gone, and Selwyn felt benign with all the -world. - -Pipe in mouth, stick in hand, he took the red road which turns -left-handed from the office door. Mrs. Boulder relinquished household -matters to watch him go by. The sun was rising in the sky, and when -he drew opposite the Horrington humpy, he began to tell himself that -a man was looking for trouble who went for walks in this country. Mr. -Horrington stood in his doorway, gently musing after his morning custom -before setting forth to win the daily bread; and Selwyn, from the -roadway, sent him a cheerful salute, which brought him along the path -to the road. - -"Good day, Mr. Selwyn. You are abroad early this morning. Which way are -you going?" - -"Nowhere in particular. I was out for a stroll." - -"Will you come along with me? I seldom get anyone to talk to. I have -some business in the township." - -"Splendid!" cried Selwyn. - -Up the road they went at steady pace, Selwyn carrying his fifty years -on springy steps, Mr. Horrington planting his feet ponderously in the -dust. Mr. Horrington pulled out his pipe in a little while, and found -to his chagrin his tobacco-pouch was empty. - -"Damn it! I find I have run out of fuel until I can manage to get back -to the store," he said, blinking his pale blue eyes. "Would you mind -lending me a fill? Thanks. Ah, this is something like tobacco. The -stuff they sell here comes hard on an educated palate." - -"Fill your pouch up. I have plenty at home." - -"Thanks very much. I am always meaning to send for some decent stuff. -Yes, thanks very much. I shall look forward to a luxurious evening. -Here you are. I am afraid I have rather taken you at your word." - -"Not at all," answered Selwyn with downcast countenance. - -Just before the firewood stacks, they took the branch road turning -to the township. The nearing hotel roof glared in the sun. Selwyn, -foreseeing the inevitable, put a cautious hand into his pocket -for what discovery might discover. The nimble half-crown rewarded -his search. Several malignant goats cropped the pasturage at the -cross-roads. Mr. Horrington eyed them sullenly. - -"Who owns all these goats?" said Selwyn, put in better spirits by the -find. - -Horrington blinked his eyes. "That is what nobody knows. They walk -round a man's house, and break the way inside if there's a crust on the -place; or get tangled in the dustbin just as a man is falling asleep. -You can stand all day shouting for an owner, and not a soul on the -lease turns an ear. But if you go mad and shoot one, every man and -woman in the camp comes running up to claim it." - -"You don't care for goats?" said Selwyn. - -Mr. Horrington put the back of a hand across his drooping moustache. -"They are charming animals for little girls to fondle in books; but -you have to live with them to know them. Were I a well-to-do man I -would keep two or three, and wander down of an evening to the paddock -to sprinkle a little bread over them. But when you must wrestle a goat -round a bail before you can have breakfast, the glamour wears. By gad! -a man soon gets hot walking these mornings. Ah, here's the hotel. I -hope you will take the dust out of your throat with me. It will help -square our tobacco account." Mr. Horrington laughed a rusty laugh. - -They passed through the open doorway of the hotel, turned right-handed, -and went into the bar. It was cool indoors after the sun. The room was -large and low, and full of the breaths of departed roysterers; and was -empty except for a battered barmaid in curl papers who dusted behind -the counter. Upon the floor were many signs of yesterday. Selwyn felt -poorly inclined for refreshment. Mr. Horrington took off his hat and -wiped his brow, bowing good morning to the barmaid, who smiled bitterly -and came forward. He laid his stick along the counter, and leaning an -elbow beside it, fell into a noble pose, the outcome of a lifetime's -practice. - -"What's it to be, Mr. Selwyn?" - -"Anything, thanks; a whisky," said Selwyn, coming forward and smiling a -charming good morning. - -"That will do for me," Mr. Horrington agreed. "Two whiskys, please." - -Mr. Horrington plunged a hand into his right trouser pocket. Afterwards -he plunged a hand into his left pocket. Once more he tried the right -pocket. He blinked his eyes. He took up the whisky bottle and poured -himself out a stiff peg. He shook his head at a suggestion of -dilution. He sipped the peg to taste its quality. He seemed about to -add a little more, had not the barmaid put the bottle from harm's way. -He watched paternally the pouring out of Selwyn's nobbler, and when it -was set down ready, he said pleasantly:-- - -"I am afraid I have left every penny of loose cash behind. Wretched -nuisance! Never remember doing that kind of thing before. I hope you -won't object to settling this little matter now, and we can fix up -between ourselves another day." Leaning over, he added in a heavy -whisper: "They are not too agreeable here--don't care to run accounts." - -Selwyn had met his master. He saw it; he was a wise man; then and there -he surrendered. - -"Of course," he said, and brought forth the half-crown. "We are up -against it this morning. This is all I happen to have with me." - -He put the half-crown on the counter, and Mr. Horrington blinked -suspiciously at him. - -The out-of-curl barmaid went away in a little while, and Mr. Horrington -suggested lighting pipes and sitting down a few minutes on the -seat running along the wall. Selwyn, hopeless of escape just then, -acquiesced. They crossed the floor and sat down. - -"Have you a match?" said Mr. Horrington as a start in matters. Selwyn -obediently handed over the box. "Business is very slack this year, -very. I find time hang heavily sometimes. Practically never a man of -culture to speak to. I often mean to get up one or two decent books -from down South." - -"Sorry haven't got one with me," said Selwyn, counting the flies on the -ceiling. - -"Yes," went on Mr. Horrington, shaking his head. "I have to hang round -this wretched rattletrap township all day. Fellows turn up any time -from the bush with skins to sell, or samples of ore. It wouldn't do -to be away. A man might lose custom. But it is sickening for a man of -culture listening to their petty squabbles and affairs. By the way, -that reminds me, I heard a fair shocker the other day; a fair shocker -I can tell you. No need to say this is strictly between you and me. Of -course you knew Neville's girl was engaged to the Power who owns this -station?" - -"Met him several times." - -"No doubt. Not a bad chap you would think," said Mr. Horrington. "Well, -it is all over the place now he is running a double affair." - -"Eh?" - -"Yes. They say the other girl is somewhere on the river. A girl with -striking looks. No doubt that's the attraction, though I have never -seen any looks in these parts." - -"What!" said Selwyn, this time coming down from the flies and scowling. - -"Yes, pretty sickening thing to hear. I am very sorry for Neville's -girl. Charming girl. There seems no doubt about it. I've had it from -half-a-dozen sources since. Moreover the girl's father was here a day -or two back. Drinking pretty freely. I happened to be there, and he -said a good deal more than I liked listening to. He mentioned other -names; but it's as well to let them be. Nasty story. Yes, nasty story." - -"Man, it can't be true." Selwyn exclaimed at last. - -"'Fraid so." - -"Damn it, how beastly!" - -"Yes. Fair shocker." - -They talked together in the stale room for some time until Selwyn grown -desperate, rose firmly to his feet. "Well, must be getting back. Have -a bit of business to do. Enjoyed our chat. Suppose we shall run across -each other again pretty soon." - -Selwyn continued to move firmly towards the door. Mr. Horrington rose -also. He blinked. He swept the edge of his drooping moustache with his -tongue lest a spare drop of whisky remained. He looked longingly but -unprofitably at the row of bottles on the shelves. Lastly he picked up -his stick as Selwyn had picked up his. They went outside into the sun. -Scabbyback and Gripper rose from a small island of shade, and Gripper -trotted forward very ready for the start. At the hotel entrance they -said good-bye. They said it soon--Selwyn lifting his stick jauntily in -the air, and Mr. Horrington blinking reply. - -Good-natured kindly fool that he was, he was thoroughly upset by that -infernal old sponger's scandal. Just his luck to be told a darned -awkward piece of news just after breakfast, so that he was likely to -be annoyed with it all day. He was too thundering good-natured, that's -what he was. He must adopt another line in future. Why the deuce should -he worry over people's affairs? What the devil was a fellow to do in -such infernally awkward circumstances--keep his mouth shut? Perhaps he -ought to tell his wife. She might as well know, in case anything ever -came of it. What's more he could shift the business on to her that way. -It was a woman's job. They were pretty thick-skinned in that kind of -thing. They'd be certain to try and drag him into it; but he'd be jolly -careful they didn't. Yes, he was too darned considerate of others. - -He reached home as he was growing unpleasantly hot. Spying Mrs. Selwyn -reading on the shadiest verandah, he made for her and threw himself -into a canvas chair close by. The bodyguard flopped upon the floor at -his feet, and the party fell to heaving up and down. The sudden assault -caused Mrs. Selwyn to look over the edge of her book. - -"Hilton, how soon are you going to learn a little consideration for -others?" she said sharply. "No single other man I could name would -throw himself and two smelling dogs down in the one spot we are trying -to keep cool." - -Selwyn, tumbled pell-mell from high thoughts, turned very sour. - -"It seems a little hard that a fellow mayn't crawl into the shade for -a minute or two. I am the only one here with sufficient spirit to take -a decent walk of a morning. The rest of you gasp about in easy chairs -expecting to be waited on." - -Mrs. Selwyn made no reply and resumed her reading. Selwyn and his -retainers gave a little time to the recovery of their breaths. Finally -Selwyn braced himself to his task. - -"I met that old humbug Horrington on the road. He gave me a pretty -beastly bit of news." Mrs. Selwyn again looked over the top of her -book. "He told me Jim Power is running a double affair, and is tied up -in a knot with a girl somewhere on the river. A good-looking girl, old -Horrington said. Probably the girl they joke King about. He says it's -all over the place." Mrs. Selwyn shut up her book and laid it in her -lap. Next she looked severely at the flooring of the verandah. "Beastly -nuisance!" Selwyn followed up again feebly. - -"Was he quite certain of his story?" - -"Seemed infernally sure of it." - -Mrs. Selwyn resumed the study of the flooring. After a moment or two -she said--"I feel most unwell. I think at least you might have had the -decency to keep it from me." - -"Damn it, I thought you would be put out if you weren't told. Besides -you are a woman. I thought you would have a suggestion to mend matters." - -"I shouldn't for one moment think of interfering. It is essentially a -matter between Mr. Neville and yourself." - -"Neville? Damn it, don't you try and drag me into it." - -"I entreat you to moderate your violence a little." - -Selwyn said something under his breath. He was getting ruffled, and -don't you make any mistake about it. It was the old story. He was too -darned infernally good-natured. Too beastly unselfish. He had lived too -long letting people thrust their blasted wishes down his timid throat. -But he'd start a new tack from to-day. By Jove! yes, a new tack from -to-day. - -While he lashed himself into noble rage, Mrs. Selwyn continued to -admonish. "It is exactly what I expected. The course is perfectly -clear, and you come running to me. And as usual you try and shift the -matter on to me with high hand and bluster." - -Selwyn had flogged himself to white heat. "Here am I, a supposed big -man of these parts, nagged at and brow-beaten and driven to the point -of madness by a houseful of idle matchmaking women." - -"I entreat you----" began Mrs. Selwyn. - -"They can carry their own dirty linen to the wash themselves. I've been -the public pack-animal for the last time, and I tell you so now. The -girl can get herself out of her own tangle." - -"Do you realise the whole camp may be listening?" - -"Damn the camp!" - -"You ruffian." - -Selwyn threw himself to his feet. "It's the last good turn I try and -do. Power can keep a harem for what I care. I suppose you are content -now you have driven me away?" - -Mrs. Selwyn made no reply, but resumed her reading. Scowling -terrifically, Selwyn plunged down the verandah steps, the bodyguard -pattering at his heels. There were the sounds of steps, very sharp and -dignified, dying away down the path, followed by silence. Mrs. Selwyn -closed her book and proceeded to consider matters in all their aspects. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE JOURNEY TO THE POOL - - -Coming up from the yard near the creek where the goats were herded, -Maud Neville stood a moment in the darkened dining-room; and, standing -there, she heard Selwyn begin his story. She dreamed while the first -words were spoken, soothed by the change from sunlight to the shadows -and quiet of indoors; then understanding arrived, and she stood -wide-eared to the end. - -Waiting by the table, clad in a cool dress, with a wide straw hat -upon her head, she happened upon the telling of that tale, and stood -listening until the final word was spoken. In that space life lived and -done with. A book opened; the story read. Truth told which could not be -untold. And she must rouse herself from daydreaming in this quiet room, -for outside a sun was shining, and earth still rolled through high -heaven. - -She lingered among the shadows a little while yet, while the greedy -sunlight crept under the verandah roof seeking a way to climb in. Her -light fingers moved among the household gods, settling and re-settling -them with old skill. - -Give her strength to find the way into the sunlight white and fiery. -Winter must thaw there, and these tongues of slander wither and roll up -black. He loved her! Who dared to deny he loved her? Yet now he came -less often. He came with gloomy face and brow old with frowns. Truth -was too true! Love had learned unloving. - -Stay, he loved her a little still and therefore he grieved to speak -the truth. He came and came again that he might kill her gently, and -lay dead love to sleep upon its broken flowers. Let her thank him for -this kindness which had kept her glad a little while. Surely Death thus -gently come was not a fearful visitor? - -She shook. This was rage assailing her. Hot rage, this moment. This -moment, icy hate. Come and gone in fierce breaths. Now storm had passed -away, and she stood quiet, trembling a little. - -Not to-day this message. Let him love her once more to-night. Let him -kiss back her kisses, and she would be strong to-morrow. - -A world rolling through its day, and she dreaming in this cool room. -Wake up from dreaming. Outside sunlight woos the red earth, and bronze -lizards sit upon the stones. - -She showed no signs of hurt when presently she came out of the quiet -and began the tasks set to do in the brief space of morning that -remained. One asked her were she tired. One warned her summer was but -begun, and only those who started prudently would last through to the -end. She laughed and said she would cause all to look to their laurels. -When lunch was ended, to prove the heat of the day had small fright for -her, she renounced the verandah for her bedroom, and her cool dress for -a habit. At the last moment, when there remained only the saddling, she -sought out her father and told him she would be away until sundown. The -old man cocked his head to one side in dismay. - -"What's taken ye, girl?" he said. "Why not wait for evening and the -cool?" - -"I'm sick of indoors. I am going now, father." - -"Well, it's you to do the riding, girl, and not me. Don't be stopping -out after sunset and scarin' us. Where are you going?" - -"To the river." - -The old man grunted, and she turned and left the house. She saddled -Stockings, the chestnut with four white legs, she mounted him, and he -moved freely down the road, reefing a little at the beginning from -good spirits. She checked him to a walk, and presently he ceased to -fret and plodded down the way with head drooping lower as each mile was -put behind. Presently hills stood between the camp and her. Presently -she was far into the plain. The sun was high up in the sky; the air was -hot and without breeze. The red hill sides glared back into the sun's -face. The baked bunches of spinifex pushed up their spears from the -ground. At the end of several miles she began to fag, although all her -task was to sit astride this big horse. Purpose held her moving along -the road. The green belt of the river grew up upon the horizon. - -Rage and bitterness had spent their hours in her heart and had passed -to where such things pass. Now Care came, a lonely child, to suck at -her breast. Came too this desire to look upon that beauty which could -command men to cast all away and follow--a desire to stare upon it from -her high seat on this beast. - -The green belt marking the river came out across the plain. The big -horse carried her into the shabby country which sheltered the higher -trees from the broad face of the land. Rubbish of old floods, long run -to the sea, waited in the branches, and here and there high watermark -showed above her head. Now she rode among the nobler timber. - -It was gentle here among the trees, where quiet shadows laid their -cheeks against the path. A lonely bird fluted in the boughs. Water -peeped ahead through bending branches. It seemed the Pool had shrunken -much after these rainless months. - -Presently, when she had passed a long way through the trees, she pulled -up Stockings on the bank and looked down into the water. The face of -the Pool stared back into her own, and she could mark the lean fishes -lolling in cool places, and discover a world of weeds nodding below. -Last great lilies of the year bloomed lonely upon the brow of the -water. To right hand, to left hand, the face of the Pool extended. -Guardian ranks of trees followed all the way, bending over in many -places to stare at their countenances. Sunlight slipped among their -tops, and tumbled into the gloom of their boughs, and splashed upon the -water with noiseless splashes. Shadows with dusky faces peered round -the tree trunks to know who came thus to look with sad face upon the -slumbers of an afternoon. - -She had drawn quietly to the bank, and now she discovered wild birds -dozed upon the bosom of the Pool. Fat ducks floated, with bills laid to -rest in gorgeous plumes. Divers paddled in loneliest places and sank -among the weeds. Strange birds shovelled in the hot soft mud. And in -all corners--melodiously hidden--butcher birds called and called again, -tiny birds with canary breasts flitted in the boughs, and sharpened -their bills on the roughness of the bark; and kingfishers skimmed the -water on shining, whirring wings. - -She laid the reins upon the neck of the big horse which stood so still, -and as she looked the message of peace laid a quiet finger upon her -heart. She told herself the beautiful child who had so harmed her -had a home by this gentle place, and so she could not be a stranger -to kindness. She would undo the damage wrought. He who had wandered -away after false gods saw every day this fair scene, and his heart -must still have understanding. She turned Stockings from the Pool -right-handed, and threaded a way along the bank. She began to wonder -what to do when she would find herself face to face with the girl. She -wondered if rumour had mistold of her beauty, and she grew bitter with -her own poor body which could ill afford challenge. What would she -say to this child if she had to speak to her--tell her to go down to -the Pool and there find a book printed with much learning? She would -tell her gently she had played robber, and this stranger had ridden -across the plain to receive back what she had lost. It was simple to -give back where value was not. Value was not? A new thought to stab. -This young girl who lived among the silences of the timber might love -too, and fight for her love with the weapons of the savage. Beauty and -passion come to do battle against her own dowdy armour. - -What a coward heart she held! Here was the camp coming through the -trees. Did she arrive on the service of love to peer and eavesdrop, and -to smile out of her white face while rage filled her heart? Ah, there -the child lived. What a lowly house the man she loved had stooped to -knock at! Her own stout roof and safe walls could not keep him. Her -nerves were tight drawn to-day. Stockings had whinnied loud, and the -blood raced to her heart. The hut was not deserted. An unfriendly dog -ran out to challenge the approach. In a moment the girl might cross -the threshold, and find her without wit or speech. Stockings neighed -again--and was that a horse answering beyond the hut? A horse was -there. A horseman must be here. Shame! His horse stood there. She was -near the doorway. She must ride on or turn back. She might be found -there. Such thing must never be. He might find her there, and think she -spied upon him. He might come outside, and with him the child who had -stolen him away. They two might look fondly at each other. No--not -that. - -She was clumsy. She had waited too long. He stood in the doorway. He -was coming outside. He stood still. He had seen her. They were staring -into each other's eyes. It seemed they could not leave off looking. -They looked into each other's hearts and read all that was written -there. His face had grown hard; he was frowning, his face black. Come, -she must rouse herself from enchantment. She could not speak to him -now, and there was only left to turn Stockings on the road home. - -Ah, who is this come out beside him? Tall, like a young tree. Who -is this come to stand beside him and stare out of wide eyes? Eyes -set under a brow harnessed with thick brown coils of hair. Young and -careless and lovelier than all the beauty that slumbers through this -summer afternoon. What fields of lilies yearn for her to seek them, -that her slim white feet may crush among their stems, and they meet -death from one lovelier than themselves? What woods of greedy violets -sigh for her to pass among them that they may steal her fragrance and -make the world sick with a sweeter sweetness? Ah, what a poor tongue -has legend. This was she whom rumour said bloomed lovely by the river. -Beauty born humbly, but not so humble that pale pilgrims did not glide -through the silences to lift the clapper of her door. Beauty housed -humbly in a shabby temple; but beauty itself not humble. The flame that -burnt! Ah, rescue him! - -She drew tight a rein and turned away; and as she passed again among -the trees the birds were fluting in the boughs and on one hand the face -of the waters twinkled in sunshine and in sleep. Once she thought his -voice came after her, commanding her to wait; but she scorned to turn -about lest imagination mocked, and again she saw that hut set among the -trees. It seemed Stockings turned sluggard for this homeward journey, -and in rage she plunged sudden spurs into his sides. He snorted loud -and rose high into the air, and she must lean upon his wither to -persuade him to earth. Thereafter he turned fretful, seeking to reef -the reins from her hands. They passed among the trees until the last -ribbons of water were hidden. Hark! On the edge of the timber and the -empty land a hurry of hoofs reached her ears. Quickly it grew loud. -Some madman rode. It was he come after her. He would ride at her side -in a moment. Give her strength to meet him manfully. Fool he to seek -her out now. She hated him with a hate as great as the love he had -murdered. - -"I called out I would ride back with you. I had to saddle up. What was -the hurry?" - -"To tell the truth I didn't know I was needed. I set out to ride alone, -and thought to finish the journey alone. But we can ride together -now if you wish. The way lies side by side a mile or two. As well -to practise again this art of riding side by side, lest it be quite -forgotten. One--two--three--weeks, since we had last lesson. And once -we used half the days of the week in mastering the art. Why these -scowls, friend Jim?" - -"Come, don't talk riddles, Maud. I'm not in humour to read them. If you -have things to say, say them now while we have the place to ourselves. -Say what must be said. Big words can drop and break here, and lie well -broken. My ears are on edge for listening. But don't give me riddles." - -"'Jim Power has tied himself up in a knot with some girl on the river.' -Soft words, Jim, to have flung at me this morning.... Oh, how could you -do this?" - -"Gently, Maud." - -"Gently? No, any word but that. Speak up, Jim. What knots your tongue? -Cry at me doubter, liar, shabby tattler of tales. The bitterer your -words, the sweeter I shall hear them. Where is your tongue? Say you -are sick with me for doubting. Say the taste of this day will never -leave your mouth, Jim. Frowns won't feed me." - -"Stop. I am at the end of what I can bear." - -"You won't answer? Jim, it isn't true?" - -Then fell upon those two riding side by side in the radiant afternoon -the majesty and the melancholy of that wide red land. The little sounds -of passage were born and died and put away forgotten. There lived upon -the breast of Time the sharp steps of two horses crossing the rubble -on the ground. There lived the clink of bits when heads were tossed. -There lived the tiny groans of leather. And in the bunches of spinifex -punctual insects tuned their throats against the evening. But he and -she passed away from all these things, and after much journeying came -hand in hand into some rare atmosphere where they kneeled together, -two mourners at the bier of dead love. He who was so quickly moved to -anger, she who but a space ago had been cold in rage, felt now only a -great purifying pity move through them that such a fair comrade had -been laid in a narrow bed. Desires, remorses, rages, strifes--those -ragged clothes his spirit must often wear--were laid aside on the -threshold of this high wide chamber, and he was re-robed in cool -garments for the hour of vigil. As their spirits waited there, on -either side of the bier where Love was laid out among her fading -blossoms, their bodies rode across the plain, and presently the long -road lay before them, where she must turn right-handed to Surprise and -he ride left for Kaloona. There they stayed a little while and spoke -together. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE HALT BY THE ROAD - - -She was the first to speak. - -"Jim, we can't ride like this for ever. A good thing if we could! I am -over the first sharpness. Don't choose your words. We can't ride on -like this." - -"No, Maud, we can't." - -"Do you love her?" - -"Yes." - -"How did it come about?" - -"As such things come about." - -"What do you mean?" - -"How do such things come about?" - -"Does she love you?" - -"No." - -"What have you said to her? Does she know you care?" - -"Yes." - -"Ah, as far as that?" - -"Since yesterday. Last night I went to end things. Until then not one -word had smirched me or you. I went to say good-bye. She was put -before me like a drink. And----" - -"You were parched?" - -The horses stood with drooped heads, muzzle to muzzle. The hours were -growing old, and long shadows climbed across the grasses. A wide -hat sheltered her from the sun; but he thought she looked tired and -worn, and he wondered which lines summer had drawn there and which he -had traced. Next he fell to asking himself if sorrow could sharpen -eyesight, for he found himself looking past her body upon her good -spirit. It would find food for new growth out of this hurt. Two years -ago they had knelt together and received an equal gift. What a good -housewife she had proved! What a spendthrift he! - -"The afternoon is nearly gone, Jim. I made a promise to be back by -sunset. I don't know what to say. I must go on feeling for a little -while and then I shall be able to think. I don't understand a man's -love. He can put it off and on like a cloak. He wears a woman's livery -for a season to find it shabby after that time and himself in need of a -newer one. You have worn mine through two seasons and no doubt I should -be duly glad." - -"Gently." - -"I am raw still. Too sick and sorry to stoop about picking up soft -words. No, forget what I said. You have made me angry and hurt and -scornful, and, if you will have it, jealous; but you have not the art -to make me love you any less. Nothing can unteach me what I have learnt -through you. You can never make me unhappy as you have made me happy." - -"What am I to say?" - -"I must be going home." - -"Listen to me. Because of what has happened, don't think I'm such a -dullard that I don't know the worth of what I had. What ails me! Soon -I'll be past caring. I'm at odds with my shadow. I'm too full of ill -humours to pull myself on to a horse's back, too sick with things to -try a day's work. If you want revenge you can be satisfied." - -She saw his face grow keen with sorrow, and last traces of bitterness -against him left her. In place arrived a great pity, and a greediness -to heal his hurts. She turned away, and thoughtfully with her light -fingers began to thread the mane of the big chestnut horse. She laid -the hairs this way and that with care, but little she knew of her work. -She was thinking with all her might. - -She loved this man, and what was love but service? She must serve him -now he was in such evil case. What were her wounds but red lips opening -in her side that they might speak his wounds and tell them balm was -coming. This was the highest hour of their love, when love was to be -crowned with understanding. Let her be speedy and not spend all day -debating. A poor passenger was fallen sick by the way, and here was -she, loaded with her ointments, who had talked much of her skill. What -was love but service, and she said she loved this man? - -"What are we to do?" - -"There is nothing to do." - -"Are you going home?" - -"I told her I would go back." - -"It's time I started home, Jim." - -"Maud!" - -"Don't look so serious. You are in worse case than I am. I can laugh at -myself and I doubt that of you. Before I go, promise me you will still -come to Surprise. It's a sleepy place. You won't find things changed -there." - -"Yes." - -"And now you have promised that, will you come to-morrow? A square -promise, fair weather or black, a day's work to do or nothing on hand." - -"Yes." - -"Good-bye, Jim." - -"Good-bye, Maud." - -The old horse moved away when she gathered up her reins. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE PARTING OF THE WAY - - -Power kept his promise. The afternoon sun was still high in the sky -when he let loose his horse in the stable yard at Surprise and walked -across the stones to the house. He approached in view of the shadiest -verandah where the household had come together after lunch. In the -amplest chair lay Selwyn lost to all the ill humours of the heat; but -Mrs. Selwyn interrupted her reading to give him a searching glance, and -Neville shot up shaggy eyebrows and cried "Hello!" Maud came down the -steps. She wore a big hat as protection from the sun; but she looked up -to speak and showed Power the lines of care that twenty-four hours had -drawn upon her face. - -"Come this way, Jim. It's shady up the creek, and there are too many -inside." - -They passed together a little way up the bed of the creek, clambering -once and again over sharp faces of rock where fair pools of water rest -after the rains. They reached a spot where a sapling throws a broken -shade upon a shelf of stone. They sat down. The prospect is gentle here -as prospects are judged at Surprise. Below, stands the house peering -round the bank of the rise--above, the creek climbs up into the hills. - -"Well, Jim?" - -"Yes." - -"Come, don't look so cut up. It isn't fair to me. I've spent all day -looking things in the face and you must help." - -"I've come here as you asked. What is there to say?" - -"Do you still feel the same about her?" - -"Yes. It will always be the same." - -"We have come to the end of things. Is that it?" - -"It needn't be that. There is friendship left." - -"Fall from first to second place? How dare you ask me that.... What -makes you like this? She has nothing more than her looks. She has no -education. She can have only a child's experience of life." - -"It makes no difference." - -"And where will you be when the glamour has gone?" - -"It will be time to see when that happens." - -"But they say she isn't even a good girl. A girl must be so weak to let -men do as they like with her." - -"We have said enough." - -"And what am I to do? Make the best of things I can? Take off my love -like an old coat and throw it away because it is out at the elbows? -Jim, you don't know what love is. That's why this thing has happened." - -"Talking won't mend things." - -"There's no more to say; is that what you mean? We have come to the -parting of the ways. I'm to understand that, am I? The house I built -has tumbled on top of me, and I am to get clear of the ruins as best -I can. In a little while this affair of yours will be over, and where -shall we both be? Can't you see what a priceless thing we are ready to -waste?" - -"Of course I see it; but it makes no difference. I was a man a month -ago, able to take or let alone. Now ... I love the child. There's the -beginning and end of it." - -"We had a hundred things to help us over the difficult bits of life and -now because you are tired I am asked to feel the same. That's where the -laugh comes in. I find I can't do it." - -"What a cad you make me!" - -"She doesn't love you. You told me that yesterday. How are you going to -get over that?" - -"She may change." - -"Have you thought what I have to face? 'There goes Maud Neville who -was found wanting and now takes second place to a girl whose lips are -plastered with the kisses of a dozen men.' Some day the words may not -seem much; just now, my friend, they have a harsh sound. How dare you -bring me to this?" - -"Would you have us marry as things are?" - -"No, I wouldn't. I must eat my humble pie. But as yet I cannot make -myself believe that we are at the end of things. It's not easy to speak -out the truth even to you. I ought to cut you for good. But I just -can't do it. Love takes a lot of killing. The world will think me a -girl of poor spirit; but better that than that this thing should come -to grief in haste. I must have time to think things out. I owe this to -you and to myself.... What are you looking at the sun for? Do you want -to get away?" - -"I have to meet O'Neill at three o'clock." - -"Meet him at three so as to be in time somewhere else later on--I -suppose that's it. Well, so be it." - -"Are you coming to the stable?" - -"No. I'm going to stay here a little while. Jim, this mustn't be our -good-bye. Before you go, promise me you won't quite forget us here. -Come when you can." - -"Good-bye." - -"Good-bye." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -SUMMER DAYS - - -In this far country spendthrift November used up one by one its days. -Each fiery noontide pulled the sun a little higher into the sky. His -way was set in a wide field of blue, where seldom came one timid -cloud to loiter an hour and float fearfully away. The season of the -rains drew near; but as yet was no sign of the storm wrack, which -drifts up evening by evening and drifts away--a herald of the deluge -which presently shall burst upon the land. Night, hot and passionate, -followed night, hot and passionate--each night roofed with high white -twinkling stars. The Scorpion was falling from his lofty place, and -Orion carried his sword and belt up from the horizon. - -In the mornings of those long November days as the eight o'clock -whistle blew shrill from the engine house, the men of Surprise Valley -descended into the bowels of the hills, there to drive and to stope, -to put up their rises and put down their winzes, to employ hammer and -drill in the damp places and in the hot places, to push their trucks, -to set their fuses, to batter with their spluttering machines until -the day was worn out, and the five o'clock whistle called them to the -surface. A strange land theirs of gloomy tunnelled ways; a land of -shadows dancing before moving candles; a land of roofs which dipped and -soared; a land of grim, cheerless walls and floors, patched with damp, -where black holes opened out and ladders led up and ladders led down; -a land of changing colours as here and here the green copper looked -out from its hiding place. In such a country lived the men of Surprise -Valley between the two whistles of the day. - -At the house of Mr. Neville, manager of Surprise, November was accepted -with small complaint. Many a dawn of day, every set of sun found Selwyn -striding like an honest man into the bush. Lean and pinched he showed -at early morning, hat tilted jauntily forward, cigarette end pushed out -below his clipped moustache, trusty gun under hooked right arm. Leaner -still he looked at evening, as he followed his long shadow across the -ground, marching towards a gully in the hills, where one might blunder -on the Lord knew what--kangaroo, wallaby, or even a python. A python, -be Gad! at one's very back door! - -Each November morning Mrs. Selwyn, after privately counting off one -more day to departure, took a book to the verandah, and sat in the -cool to read a little and observe a good deal more. She was discreetly -watching for evidence of the truth of Hilton's news. It was more than -likely that he had got hold of the wrong end of the stick; still it -was worth while discovering if there was anything in the story. If -there was truth, the girl certainly had no inkling of the matter. She -looked a little tired and worried now and then; but this impossible -country would wear anyone out. It was a shame to think of her buried -here indefinitely. She must think about asking her down for the summer. -Thank goodness half the stay was over. Their rainy season began next -month, and she was going to make certain of not being cooped up here -then. - -Of that household only Maud Neville found November more miserly of the -hours than October. She was living her tragedy alone. - -She explored the frailties of the human spirit--found the heights it -could climb in a courageous hour, and followed it down into dark ways. -It seemed angel and devil waited on her, clanging in turn for entrance. -When she opened to the kind spirit she grew careless of her own hurts, -and only was glad that she loved a man who was in trouble and whom -she might have skill to help. When the demon came in at the door he -whispered her she was a woman who loved a man, and who had been loved -by him once upon a time. Now, with lips which had kissed her, the man -kissed the robber who had stolen him away, and held that robber in the -arms which once supported her. At such times she cried she was learning -to hate this turncoat. If presently he would come riding up to sit -beside her with long face, she would cry, "Begone to your child who -bids you click and unclick her gate." - -One terrible minute spent at this time with her father, more than all -her resolutions, saved her from the melancholy which was falling upon -her, and determined her to carry abroad again an untroubled face. She -stood in the dining-room before lunch, trifling the moments away, when -the old man stamped in, hat cocked to one side, pipe in mouth, heavy -walking-stick in clutch. He was flushed from the sun and short of -breath; but he blundered to the attack. - -"Hey, Maud, what's this that's running round the place? Jim Power -playing the double business with you. In a mess with that girl of -Gregory's. I may be wrong, but I reckon I know how to settle that kind -of thing. I may be wrong, huh, huh! No man plays fast and loose with a -girl of mine. I'll have the blackguard kicked off the lease next time -he----" The old man came to a standstill. - -She had shown him a face grey with rage. Her words were colder than -drops of ice falling upon snow. - -"How dare you come in like this, father, blustering your way into a -business where you have no concern! Jim and I can keep our house in -order, and our very best thanks to you. How dare you come in like this, -father, without apology to us?" - -The old man took his pipe from his mouth the better to meet the attack. -His shaggy white eyebrows bristled. "Goodness! girl, don't lose your -head like that. I heard wrong, I reckon, in the town just now." He -put back the pipe in his mouth and gathered confidence. "Well, that's -all to be said about the matter, Maud, only a bit of news to remember -is--nobody plays the game of do-as-you-please with my daughter. I may -be wrong, huh, huh!" Then he scrambled about and went out of the room. - -While the slothful lips of November counted away the days--if at that -time Maud plucked all the strings of the lyre, and sounded high melody -and awaked rough discord; if she fingered all the stops of feeling, -the man she loved made music no less wild. As hope shuttered her -lodge behind him, as despair came as neighbour to his street, he grew -careless of opinion, thoughtless of the future, and with an appetite -eager only to lap clean the dish of the present. Love was revealed as -a light, blinding him who looked there to all but its brightness. As -he stumbled towards it, calling out loud for a veil, it moved away. -All his hurry and loud cries brought him no nearer, as a man may climb -mountain upon mountain and never reach the stars. - -As he grew mad, he grew wise with a cheerless wisdom. He rode to the -river; he rode away; again he rode to the river. To-night he held in -his arms the child he loved, and covered her with kisses. To-morrow -he would hold her thus again. But ever Love fled him as he came. Ever -Love turned in flight to mock him. Ever Love danced away on rosy -toes. Strange teaching this--that a man can own the House of Love, -and stamp adown the house from garret to cellar, and not on one couch -find Love awaiting him. This child would lie in his arms through long -minutes, would kiss back his kisses at his command, and press back his -embraces--and all the passion spent on her passed over her, as when -the clouds open on an autumn day, and the sun runs across the waiting -field. As he sealed her eyes with kisses, behold they were sleepy with -dreams another had laid there; as he stopped her mouth with his mouth, -the taste of another's lips sweetened her own. Who knows that if her -shallow little soul had cried to him then down the distance that his -spirit might not have found sight and seen the poor thing it pursued. -So Love might have wearied in the chase. But because this small thing -fled him, he must snatch up his torch to follow, and among the high -shadows of its leaping fire, surely one was the shadow of the thing he -hunted. - -He grew a tattered hermit of the woods who said good-bye and stole back -as the night grew old to glide among the trees and watch the light fall -from her doorway. Hither and thither he passed, that he might hear her -laugh from here, that his ears might woo her voice from there, that -now her shadow might cross the window as ointment for his eyes. The -flying-foxes saw him at his watch, and high above the tree tops white -stars stared down. - -The light would go out in her hut, and for a little while the ghost of -a light would peer through the pale wall of her tent. Did she pray in -those few moments as she robed herself for sleep? Was she kneeling in -that poor tent at her rough bed, vestured in white with her shining -hair fallen unlooped about her? Did her straight white narrow feet push -under the hem of her gown, with toes bent upon the surly ground? Did -she remember him in the little prayers that fluttered up to God? Did -she whisper a man loved her, who was in sore need of help? No. In her -brief life she had scarce heard the name of God. Her rich body was her -prayer. - -Hush! The light behind her wall is quenched. She is folding herself -for sleep. The stars lift their thousand candles above her. The forest -shall be the posters of her bed. These great bats fluttering across -the dark shall carry her kind dreams from utmost places. Hush! Another -pilgrim comes among the waiting trees, but not to stay like him with -lean face peering among the trunks. This pilgrim steals into the open -and raises the soft doorway of that darkened chamber. See her go in -with warning finger, poppies wreathed about her hair, poppies climbing -up her staff. She has gone in, and on the drowsy lips of that young -child has placed the largest poppy of all to rub out his rough kisses -of the day. - -Aye, now the child sleeps, and no longer need he creep wakeful here, -fingering the rough bark of trees, and stepping clumsy on loud twigs. -He can take himself home, and from his own tumbled bed shout loud on -timid Sleep to remember him. - -Sweet child who lies secure there, where now is your little soul -fleeing? What ripe field does it find for its walks? What wide-armed -trees hold out their shade to meet it? What flowers lift up their -perfumed cups to spy who passes? What painted birds cast out their -crystal notes from bush and briar to hail it? What purple hills pile up -behind to hide the shabby land where by day it is compelled to dwell? -Sweet child, in pity tell this tattered watchman that he may lace -winged sandals to his feet, and in a brighter country sweep forward in -the flight. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE ERRAND TO THE POOL - - -On the afternoon of the last of those November days Maud Neville chose -again the road to Pelican Pool. She had learned of Power's banishment -until dark to a corner of the run, and so might take the way without -fear of a meeting. Time, if a slow leech, was proving of service, and -misery had been exchanged for a jog-along content. - -The picture was discovering its proportions, and, from the chair of -justice, she could examine it and pronounce verdict. It was crudely -drawn when studied thus. A man ran crying for a prize which he would -throw away as soon as gained. He demanded the meagre thing because it -stayed out of reach. There was humour in the picture if one was in the -mood to see it. - -To-day an idea had come, building itself to shape during the morning. -As a result, when lunch was over, she had saddled the chestnut horse -again and taken the road to the river. - -As she left the stable, Mr. King crossed to the office. He waited for -her in the path, and she pulled up the horse. - -"Aren't you very energetic so early in the day?" - -"One has to do something for a change, even if one becomes energetic. -Life is rather like those travelling shows that find the way here -sometimes. You have to clap and laugh loud in case you yawn your head -off." - -"I would sooner yawn than clap on a day like this. Where are you off -to?" - -"Somewhere. Anywhere. As the spirit shall move." - -She felt friendly towards this man, who stood wrinkling his face at the -sunlight--a little slow, a little stout, and rather middle-aged. He too -was tangled in this stupid net. Could he have guessed it, she was in no -better case than he. He might have guessed it. The laugh might be his -as much as hers. - -"Sometimes life moves fast enough to prevent one yawning," he said. - -"So you have told me lately. Then you still look for copper by Pelican -Pool? You are a good miner, Mr. King. You follow the lode to its end." - -"Did you think the fool ever learns from his folly?" he said. - -"As much as the wise man garners from his wisdom." - -"What, the sage is the fool grown old and bloodless?" - -"Why not the spectator who leaves the arena to watch from the box." - -"But will he seek the box, before he has lost in the arena? First, -must he not be broken by the other wrestlers, and come second in the -footrace?" - -"Perhaps so, Mr. King." - -"I must get under the tree, here. The sun never agrees with me after -lunch. That's better. Now I am ready for your profoundest philosophy. -Have you any for me?" - -"Mr. King, I want you to be serious for once." - -"What do you want?" - -"Now don't be angry. Do you think it right to run after this girl? She -is very young." - -"Right? There are no such things as right or wrong." - -"I said be serious." - -"I am serious. There are no such things as right or wrong. Mark me the -virtuous one. Find me the sinner. Some are born godly--a fig then for -their virtue. Some have no wish for narrow ways. Who shall point a -finger at them? Some struggle and win or lose. They who win have been -lent strength--where then their virtue? They who lose were denied aid. -Where is their vice? Foolish human souls all of us, given the hopes of -angels and the bodies of beasts." - -"Fine big words, Mr. King." - -"And if virtue exists, where is its reward? Does the gardener turn his -spade from the worm that tills his garden. Does the fowler cast less -wide his net lest he trap the song bird that soothed him overnight. The -old ox to the shambles. The old horse to the knacker." - -"Come, I am not to be bluffed. Don't you think you ought to leave such -a child alone?" - -"But why must I let be and others go on? Besides, her arms are very -wide." - -"How can you talk like that, Mr. King. I thought you were fond of her. -You have made me angry now." - -She drew the reins together and Stockings passed at a fast walk across -the plain. Presently the green belt of the river had risen out of the -horizon, and later they had come among the first trees. As she was -carried into the nobler timber, and saw the ribbons of water among -laced boughs, and met the pleasant play of light and shade, and felt -the cooler ways, and heard the call of birds in hidden places, the -charm of this quiet spot beside the river affected her magically as it -had done three weeks before. Indeed, this time she felt better able to -face circumstance. Then she had been an untried soldier, firm enough of -purpose, but one whom the first whistle of bullets had shocked. Three -weeks of war had proven her. - -She rode' to the edge of the water. She found the fair scene had no -whit altered--unless the margin of the Pool had shrunken--unless the -great white lilies had tired of blooming, and slept now beneath the -water until another year should revive them--unless the sun, climbed -higher in the sky, stared down more unkindly. - -After a space spent thus, with Stockings standing beneath her like a -rock, she turned over what was to be done. She frowned a little and -nursed her lip. It was not a pleasant errand she had come on, nor one -with a beginning easy to find. She had come to talk with the girl that -lived here, and bring her to a decision. She must give Jim yes or no. -Let her have him if she wanted; but let her say so. This could not go -on. His character was being sapped away. Let the girl take him and he -would have what he wanted, or let her send him away and he must pull -himself together. It did not matter to her--Maud. Things had gone too -far. The worst had been over a long time, and she could look the future -in the face. She was sure she did not care now as acutely as once she -had done. She would do him this kindness for old times sake, and -then she must begin to put him out of her life. But it was a hateful -business. She might meet scorn at the girl's hands--worse, Jim might -hear of her errand and think she was willing to throw pride away, if -by hook or by crook she could clutch back his affection. Well, love -must go on many services, and the trusted servant travels always by -unkindest ways. - -She ordered Stockings forward, and he backed from the edge of the Pool -into the trees and followed the bridle path where soon the camp would -discover itself. The gentle birds piped them down their passage. The -hut came out among the trees. It looked mean and shabby from long -wooing by the weather. The hessian walls were drooping and the tents -had crumbled. - -She pulled up the horse before he had carried her from the shelter of -the trees. She was disturbed again as to what to do. She must pretend -to come that way by chance. And how do that? She might ride up to the -door and ask for a cup of water. And then father or mother might open -to her. Well, things would happen as they would happen, and wit was the -serving man to enlist. - -When she was ready to give Stockings the signal to advance, he lifted -his ears. She followed their direction and discovered she was watched. -Next instant she found the watcher was the girl she had come to find. -The child must have gone among the trees to gather dead branches for -firewood, and now stood there among the trunks, as still as they, -staring at her boldly. The figure might have been a dryad pausing on -the instant before flight. Its loveliness wounded her as though a -dart had been cast at her. Who could look upon such beauty and after -be content with less? She touched the flank of her big horse, and he -carried her across the space still to traverse. He came to full stop -when she tightened the reins. - -She must be the first to speak. The girl had stood unmoved the while, -looking her boldly in the face. She wondered if she guessed her name -from hearsay. - -"That must be hot work for the middle of the day. It would have waited -for evening. But I'm setting no better example, am I, riding about the -country like this? I was glad to find these trees." - -She looked the girl over from head to foot. She judged her to be -eighteen years old or no more than nineteen, but a flower which had -come quick to bloom. She looked her over with uncharitable eyes, but -nowhere found fault. She gave up the task to tell herself never had -she seen such beauty. The girl returned stare for stare. - -"I was gettin' a few sticks together," Moll Gregory answered. "Dad went -off without chopping a thing this morning, and we've run short." - -"Are you in a hurry to be back with them?" - -"No. Why?" - -"I've made myself hot. This looks a nice place to spend a minute or -two. Will you keep me company a little while? I must soon go on." - -Maud dismounted, the better to push matters forward. As she patted -the old horse she looked about for a seat. A fallen tree lay at hand, -and she dropped the reins upon the ground and sat down upon it. Moll -Gregory stood where she was, her eyes wide open. It seemed solitude -had not taught her to be shy. It occurred to Maud she must not delay. -At any moment the father or mother might come out of the doorway and -opportunity be gone. - -"You have a lovely place to live in," she said. "But you must find it -out of the way. It's a long fag to Surprise." - -"It's a treat for us. There isn't too much doing round here." - -"I dare say. But loneliness has not kept you quite hidden. You are -better known than you may think. I had heard of you before we met -to-day. You are Moll Gregory, aren't you? You know a friend of mine. -Mr. Power, of Kaloona. He told me about you once. He said he had met -you in his travels." - -The eyes which looked at her big with curiosity fell asleep all in a -moment. But the change made their loveliness no less lovely. - -"Yes, I know Mr. Power." - -"I'm a great friend of his. We have been friends a long time. Almost -brother and sister. We tell each other most secrets." - -She wished the girl would say something. But instead, Moll Gregory -continued to stand before her, beautiful and sulky. It was the sense -of hurry in the matter that found her courage to go on. "Yes, we are -pretty staunch friends," she said desperately. She took courage in both -hands. "He told me how fond he had become of you lately." - -"Mr. Power is a poor sort of feller to go running about with tales." - -The insult brought speech crowding into her mouth. "When you know Mr. -Power a little better you will find him to be no very expert merchant -of stories. Friend to friend is an honest enough matter. And as a -matter of fact----" She stopped. She had not courage to say she had -been her own bloodhound. - -"Well, and what about it?" - -"I suppose there's not much to say about it, is there, since it's no -affair of mine? But I hear my friend has little enough to be glad over, -for it seems you don't care much for him. I'm his friend, and so I'm -sorry. That's all." - -"He thinks that, do he?" - -"And is it true?" - -"That's my business, isn't it?" - -"It's nobody's business that I have ever heard to let a man make -himself miserable, and for his pains give him neither no or yes." - -"A girl don't always ask a man to come crying after her. You don't -expect a girl to nurse every man that runs at her skirt." - -"There is such a thing as kindness." - -Moll Gregory shrugged her shoulders. - -"Don't think Mr. Power sent me here to plead for him. He can look after -himself in most cases I have found. But I am so great a friend of his -that it distresses me to see him so unhappy. The quicker he is sent -about his business the sooner he will find cure. I hate to interfere; -but it was for old acquaintance sake I came along to-day to ask you to -help me put things into better shape. I tell you Mr. Power is a changed -man this last month. It hurts me keenly to see him come to this." - -"I will tell him the worry he's givin' you." - -"You must never say a word about this visit." - -"Why not? You are a kind friend." - -"You must not say one word." - -"Not say Miss Neville called? The Miss Neville as was going to marry -him." - -She could have cried aloud at the hurt, and the next moment a cold -courage possessed her. "You cannot hurt me like that," she said in a -level voice, "and I have done my best to take care of your feelings. -True, I am engaged to Mr. Power, and we should have been married had he -not become fond of you. I have spent a good many unhappy hours lately, -as no doubt you suppose; but no anxieties of my own would have brought -me here to haggle and bargain. That might have happened when I lost my -head in the beginning; but I have had long enough to look things in the -face and accept what must be. Understand me then, I am still fond of -Mr. Power in spite of what has happened and I want to do what I can to -help. If you have ever loved a man, you will believe me. If you don't -know what love is, you will have to think as you like, and I suppose I -shall be none the worse or better for the verdict." - -"There's others have been in love besides you, Miss Neville. There's -others have had their kisses." - -"Kisses! I mean something more than kisses. When you are older you -won't weigh love by kisses. You will find love grows deeper down than -the kisses that stop in the doorway of your mouth. You will find love -sending you on errands like this one I am come on to-day, and you will -be grateful enough to run them, though all you buy is rudeness and -scorn. Love is a queer plant when you sow it properly. It makes shade -for some one man, and you find yourself glad to sit in the open and -watch it grow. Come, I am talking wildly again." - -"Have him if he's to be got. I'm not breaking my heart what comes." - -"Don't let us quarrel. I know you've not asked for my visit. I shall be -glad enough to find it done; but we have come together, and let us see -together a little while. I have made a bad beginning. I meant to speak -gently." - -Moll Gregory turned away impatiently. It seemed they had come to a -deadlock; but help was at hand. There were the sounds of steps, and a -man of moulting appearance with tools upon his shoulder came out of the -trees towards the hut. He was passing out of their direction, but he -threw a glance over his shoulder before going far on the way. He saw -them at once, and stopped. - -"Hullo, Moll, gel, out of doors? And a visitor, too. Why, it's Miss -Neville from Surprise." He came across at a clumsy, fawning run. "It's -Miss Neville, and I'm very pleased to meet you. You may have heard of -me from the old gentleman your father. As nice an old gentleman as one -would meet in a day's work. Miss Neville, to be sure, doin' us this -honour. Miss Neville come our way." A dirty hand was pushed forward. -Gregory began to hump his shoulders, pluck his beard and swell his -chest. "Well, Miss Neville, and what can have brought you all this way -in the heat?" - -"I was passing and thought it looked cool among the trees. But I must -be away again. I've rested long enough." - -Maud moved towards the horse; but Gregory became more friendly. "You -won't be gettin' back yet, Miss Neville? Oh, no, Miss Neville, we can't -let you go. The missis is inside there. Moll here can get tea going in -a minute. Mother! Are you there?" - -The woman came out of the house, and stared in their direction. - -"Miss Neville from Surprise has come our way. You can give her a taste -of tea, can't yer? Come inside, Miss Neville. Yes, we folk will be in a -bad way when we have no seat for Miss Neville. A-haw, haw, haw! A-haw, -haw, he, haw!" - -"No thanks, I'm sorry. I must be going at once. If I am round these -parts again I won't forget to call and find out who is at home. I must -be going at once. I'm sorry to look so rude." - -"Come, Miss Neville, it's not many visitors ride our way. We've not -much to offer, but its our best when you comes. The show has gone down -into a hundred foot of rock, and storekeepers aren't too flash with -tick just now. But there's always our best for Miss Neville." - -There seemed a press about the horse, but Maud was firm in purpose and -mounted. She hated the greedy face of the man. She liked no better -the lovely features of the girl. She was in a rage with herself for -considering the undertaking. The man and the woman in the doorway of -the hut were exchanging glances at her back. - -"Good-bye," she said, as she drew together the reins. "You mustn't -think me rude, but I have to get along." - -She would have walked over the man had he not stepped out of the way. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -THE BOTTOM OF THE VALLEY - - -When the same afternoon had worn to evening, Power rode down to the -river. His comings and goings at the hut passed unremarked. Gregory -kept always ready his loud welcome, and his wife asked no questions and -made no difficulties. - -Power arrived every evening at sunset, and spent by the Pool the -first hours of dark. For this end he endured the remainder of the -day. He walked now on the very bottom of the valley into which he had -descended. He rode no more to Surprise, and, calamity on calamity, he -was losing Mick O'Neill, his friend. Gloom bestrode a third horse when -they rode together on the work of the run, until by one accord they -sought each other out as little as need be; and in mute agreement came -to visit here, the one when the other should be gone. - -The sun had gone down on the edge of the plain when Power reached the -Pool. As he entered the trees darkness was falling, and the stars were -coming out. When the horse brought him into the clearing the lamplight -looked from the doorway of the hut in a broad beam and voices met him -from indoors. He tethered the beast in an old place and put the saddle -on end at the foot of a tree. Before he had done Moll Gregory was -standing in the doorway of the hut. - -"Is that you, Jim?" - -"Yes, Molly." - -He went across to her. Father and mother were within. Gregory swung on -his seat in anxious welcome, and the woman nodded good-night. The four -of them talked together for a little while. - -"Round agen to see us?" cried Gregory. "Been about the run to-day I -reckon from the look of you. Hot work moving about in the middle of the -day. It don't seem to cool off at night now. The rains must be coming." - -"It looks like it," Power answered. - -"Have you heard what's happened?" said the woman. "The boss here -ran into Mr. King yesterday. Mr. King won't touch the show since it -went into the hard stuff, and says the boss owes him twenty quid or -something and has a paper to show it." She turned bitterly on Gregory. -"You always was a fool rushing to sign things." - -"I had to keep going somehow, mother." - -Moll raised her head. "I'll fix it, dad, when he's round next." - -"I suppose things aren't too good lately?" Power said. - -"I reckon they aren't. Since the show turned out a fake, there's not a -bob to be raised anywhere. They're turning up tick at the store; too. -They growl if you ask for a tin of dog." - -"I reckon, Dad, Mr. Power might give us a hand until things was better, -if it was put to him," said the woman. - -"Is that what you are after?" Power answered. - -"A-haw, haw, haw! We wouldn't say no if you made the offer," said -Gregory, showing his dirty teeth. - -"I'll think about it." - -"There's a gentleman for you, mother! Put it here, Mr. Power." Gregory -pushed out a dirty hand. - -"It's early yet," Power answered from the doorway. - -Presently Power and Molly were wandering among the trees--the night -fallen upon them, dark, hot and murmurous with tiny voices. - -They wandered along old ways, and said again old sayings, and did again -old deeds. Who shall answer why she was ready to wander with him night -by night through these majestic ways, taking his kisses, lying within -his arms, and caring nothing for him? Lips set upon lips--no more -could his kisses mean to her. Perhaps she had grown so lonely that she -could bid no one begone. Perhaps twenty years of that hot land had set -in flames her little heart. Perhaps it was her doom to fan fever and -make men mad. Why did he come and come again, a threadbare lover, the -despised even of himself? Why was he so unwearying with his embraces, -unless it was because he had become an amorous wandering Jew, who had -scoffed once at pure lips, and must now kiss for ever, and for ever -fail to set passion afire. - -They sat down presently on a fallen tree lying among the climbing -grasses at the upper end of the Pool. Night by night he and she from -their seat there had remarked the margin of the water shrink from them. -To-night they sat down again--he to wonder at his madness, she to do a -hundred wanton acts--to tease the dog, to toss boughs upon the water -and hark to the sudden splash. - -"Molly, what did you mean just now when you said you would make things -right with Mr. King? Twenty pounds is twenty pounds to him and always -will be." - -"Aw, I didn't mean much. I know how to fix him. That's all." - -"Child, you don't have dealings with him now, do you? You told me you -never saw him." - -"I can't help it if he comes. He's not this way too often." - -"What terms are you on with him? Tell me the truth." - -"It's not to do with you, I reckon, what our terms are. I've been kind -to you when you asked me." - -"You don't understand. All men are not like me. I sit here night by -night hanging my hands, too fond of you to do you harm. But other -men----. Tell me. I won't be angry. Has he ever persuaded you too far?" - -"A gel only lives once. You told me that yourself." - -"Molly! If half the world comes knocking on your door must you let them -all in?" - -"You could have had as much as him. Wake up, Jim. There's news for you." - -"I don't feel like news just now." - -"We had a stranger round these ways to-day. Guess who." - -"I am a poor guesser." - -"Guess." - -"Man or woman?" - -"Woman." - -"I don't know a woman to come all this way. Not Mrs. Elliott, -forgotten to-night's supper, and climbed on to a horse?" - -"Miss Neville." - -"Maud!" - -"Her." - -"Well," he said coldly after a moment. "What have you to tell me?" - -"There's nothing to tell. I thought it news for you, that's all." - -"She must have ridden this way for a change. She often rides." - -"She came to see Moll Gregory, and she saw Moll Gregory." - -"What is it you are wanting to tell me? Be quick if you mean to say -anything." - -"That's not the way to ask for news." - -"Very well. We won't discuss her further." - -"You and she is too grand for us poor people. She came here on a like -high racket to ask me to give you yes or no, and she tells me it's not -on her account she's come; but because she is sorry for you. She says -if I have loved somebody I'll know what she means. I can count a feller -for every feller of hers." - -"That's enough." - -"What's enough?" - -"Enough said. We've talked enough of this." - -"Turning sulky now. Miss Neville will be kind to you if you go back." - -"Molly, there's a good child, don't tease my temper any more. We'll -talk of what you like, but forget this one thing. Why should I say a -word in her defence? How does she need it, who is so far from our reach -that you can't understand her, and I haven't the skill to price what -I have lost? If you want to learn what love is go to her with your -lesson books. All I have done has been of no account. You and I, child, -could kiss on and on for ever, and with us all the crying lovers who -count love a mere spending of kisses; and all those kisses kissed would -fly up in the scales when what she had to bring was laid in the other -balance." - -He fell into a sudden black mood--an evil habit he had learned lately. -He remembered he sat upon the fallen tree, and at his feet in the -coarse grasses lay the loveliest woman he would ever look upon. The -night was shrill with tiny voices, and endless lightnings opened and -closed the skies, but for the time these things did not affect him. - -It seemed he was coming to the bottom of the cup whose rim his lips -had held for so long. The last drops were against his mouth and the -sediment was on his tongue. And, lo! it appeared as if some virtue in -the sediment quickened the eyesight of the spirit, for at last he could -point a finger and say _there_ was substance and there shadow. Lo! -what he had once thought substance was now revealed as shadow, and what -he had believed shadow was assuredly substance. - -He woke up when the child laid a hand in his own. "Say something, Jim, -or I am going home." He kissed her very gently and started to talk to -her. But from that hour his passion began to die. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE SELWYNS RETURN SOUTH - - -November counted away its days, and tramped down the long stairs of -Time. At its heels arrived December. Now was Summer at last begun in -this far land. - -Seven days of every week a fiery sun rolled through a wide, high, empty -sky. Seven noons of every week discovered that sun mounting a little -higher. All day long the roofs of the iron houses glared across the -distance, and the walls answered hot to the touch. But Surprise--and -all that lies within its gates--was not dismayed. Evening by evening, -when the sun was getting to bed, frowning clouds banked upon the -horizon, and Mrs. Boulder, Mrs. Bloxham and Mrs. Niven, gasping in the -doorways of their humpies, looked southward and said the rains were -coming. And Boulder, Bloxham and Niven put an eye to the roof here, and -an eye to the wall there, and thoughtfully picked up hammer and twine. -But always in the morning, when the sun rolled out of the East, the -least cloud had fled away. - -Round went the wheel of affairs at Surprise Valley. The whistle blew -shrill at eight o'clock, and the waiting cage emptied the men into the -dark ways of their subterranean world. Overhead the women bustled about -their doors, and the children, grown a little browner and a little -harder, pattered about the burnt places and sent abroad their calls. -Mr. Neville, manager, made his tumultuous early round. Mr. Horrington, -general agent, made his nine o'clock march to the hotel. The teams -groaned in with firewood. The weekly coach rolled in and out again. The -same goats examined once more the same thread-bare strips of ground. -The same long-tongued curs dropped down in familiar patches of shade. - -Early in December Mrs. Selwyn put her foot down finally and to good -purpose. She would not be cooped up in this desperate place with a -prospect of presently drowning. If Hilton would not come he could stay -behind and take the consequences; but she was going by the very next -coach. How they would survive the journey in this heat was beyond her -powers of comprehension. Landing her here without an idea for getting -her away was exactly what Hilton was capable of. - -Selwyn bowed to his wife's decision. Here he was, asked to pack up -traps for home just as the river was at its lowest and there was some -thundering good crocodile shooting to be had. Soft-hearted fool that he -was! - -As a result there fell about a great packing up of rods and guns, and -a strapping of trunks; and a grey December dawn found the Neville -homestead up and awake and hard engaged upon the utmost business of -departure. A fire kept vigil in the kitchen, conjured there by Mrs. -Nankervis who had forsaken bed to speed a favourite guest. There was -coffee in the dining-room, and a generous breakfast of bacon and eggs, -though Mrs. Selwyn could not touch a thing. Fortunately Selwyn was -better able to prepare against the rigours of the day. - -Breakfast proved an uneasy meal, disturbed by comings in and goings -out, with Selwyn wandering between the window and the table, and -Neville strolling round, stick in one hand and coffee cup in the other. - -"Well," said Selwyn presently, feeling considerably better now he could -boast a decent lining to his stomach, "you people have given us a -first-rate time here, and you wouldn't have got rid of me yet had I my -way. Gad! I'm a different fellow." He smiled benignly on the assembled -company, and presently met Maud's answering smile. "Some day we may -have the good luck to find the way here again. In any case we are soon -to see you down South I hear?" - -"I promised to come next month." - -"I wish we could tempt you too, Mr. Neville," Mrs. Selwyn said. - -"Eh?" said the old man, jerking about. "Thanks, but I've no time to be -running round the country." - -"Yes," said Selwyn, taking hold of the conversation again. "I think -perhaps I shall be wise to have another go of marmalade and toast. -There's nothing like starting a journey well supplied. A couple of -months back I couldn't touch a thing. Not a thing. Now I feel another -man. I----" - -"Haven't you a little pity for us at this hour of the morning?" Mrs. -Selwyn enquired. - -A terrific frown settled on Selwyn's face. - -"I was listening," said Maud. "I was very interested." - -Selwyn beamed again. - -"You had better get on with the toast then," said Neville, "or ye'll -be waiting another week. The fellow doesn't like keeping his horses -hanging about. He'll be away without you. I may be wrong. Huh, huh!" - -Mrs. Selwyn scorned a buggy, and insisted upon walking to the coach. -The clock pointed the final minute. Selwyn dodged to the back premises -to say his most charming good-bye to Mrs. Nankervis, and with the -last hand-shake slipped the smiling sovereign into her clasp. After -something of a to-do he brought the dogs round to the front where the -rest of the party waited, and they set out upon the journey to the -coach. Mr. King had turned a deaf ear to the amours of bed and joined -them upon the road; and the company made a bold line advancing across -the drowsy distances of Surprise. - -Day had arrived, but the sun still delayed its arrival. - -"It seems perfectly incredible to be awake in this place and not see -the sun," said Mrs. Selwyn. - -Selwyn shook his head in deep appreciation of himself. "You had my -example." - -The day was still in swaddling clothes; but already the men and women -of Surprise were waking up. Surly fires were growing here and there. -Mrs. Boulder was in time to peer from her doorway at the backs of the -retreating company; Mrs. Niven stopped her discourse to Niven as she -heard voices across the distance; and Messrs. Bullock and Johnson, who -were outside their camps at a morning wash, stayed in the towelling of -their faces to view the noble sight. It was the week for the visit of -Mr. Pericles Smith, travelling schoolmaster, and his two tents stood -erect and stiff by the side of the way. As the party of five marched -by, a woman's voice was raised. - -"Perry, aren't you very late this morning? There was not a stick of -wood chopped last night." - -From the other tent came answer: "In one moment, dear." - -"Ah, Perry, you are not wasting time at that rubbish, already?" - -But this time came only a groan and the sound of someone rising to his -feet. - -The harmony of excursion was nowise upset until the party had arrived -within near view of the hotel, before which stood the ancient coach -and the five goose-rumped horses asleep in the traces. Then Selwyn, on -the flank, started back. The eyes of all turned to the doorway of the -hotel. Mr. Horrington stood upon the step, stick in one hand, empty -tobacco pouch in the other--perhaps a little seedy, perhaps a little -depressed, because of the early hour; but firm in the intention of -giving his friend bon voyage. - -Selwyn's hand glided towards a pocket and there found comfort. - -"Be Gad!" he said, "I expected to slip to covert behind his back, and -here he is standing at the mouth of the earth." - -"You ask for the loan of half-a-crown," said Neville, jerking his head. -"He, he! Huh, huh, huh!" - -Mr. Horrington lifted his stick in majestic salutation. "You didn't -expect me, I dare say. However, I had no intention of letting an old -friend slip away without a handshake." He laughed his rusty laugh. -He recalled suddenly the empty tobacco pouch in his hand. "Here's -the result of coming away in a hurry. I neglected to replenish this -morning. Five minutes ago I was thinking of stoking up the first pipe -of the day when I saw what had happened. How about the loan of a -pipeful? I am always covetous of a dip into your pouch, Mr. Selwyn. -Really, I must get the address of your tobacconist before you are off." - -Then indeed it seemed that Mr. Horrington led that party of three men -through the doorway of the hotel, and later that Mr. Horrington drank -three times at the expense of other people. Later still, when the -quartette came out into the open, where the sun's rim was climbing over -the horizon, it seemed that Selwyn's eye was shining and himself full -of a sudden energy, that Mr. King stepped more briskly than was his -wont, and that old Neville's laugh was a trifle loud. - -Time would not listen to delay, and there arrived the final moments. -The Selwyn luggage was strapped secure beside the mail-bags, and -Scabbyback and Gripper now found an uncharitable seat atop there. Joe -Gantley climbed into the driver's seat and shook the team awake, when -they changed to other legs and dropped their heads once more. Mr. -Horrington ran his tongue along the edge of his moustache again. Joe -Gantley picked up his whip, put it down, picked it up a second time, -and gave the signal for passengers to mount. - -The company gathered close beside the coach. There arose many -exclamations and much shaking of hands. Last thanks were said. Last -promises were made. Last advice was given. Mrs. Selwyn mounted without -misadventure beside the driver. She still felt most unwell. She did not -know whether she was on her crown or her toes. Selwyn took his seat at -the end of the room, and discreetly and regretfully elbowed the way -into a good position. Everybody gave more last advice. Mrs. Selwyn -nodded her head graciously and finally. Selwyn smiled his most charming -smile. Maud laughed. Neville chuckled. Mr. Horrington raised his stick -augustly. King called out good luck. - -Joe Gantley drew the reins together and cracked his whip. The team -jerked into wakefulness and fell into their collars. The coach jerked -forward. Mrs. Selwyn and Selwyn jerked forward. Scabbyback and Gripper -jerked forward. There were a tapping of hoofs and a groaning of wood, -and the coach rolled towards Morning Springs. - -"Well," said the old man looking after it, "I may be wrong, huh, huh! -but I reckon we can get along without them. I may be wrong, huh, huh!" - -Such was the manner of the Selwyn going. - -Even as the coach rolled over the first mile of the journey, and grew -pigmy in the distance so that the loitering dust cloud concealed -it--even as it bumped across the outskirts of the camp--the crimson sun -cast savage glances across the valley, slashing the iron roofs to life, -livening the dingy walls of humpies and tents, and wooing the first -flies from sleep. Over all the camp breakfast fires were growing, and -men and women moved in and out of doors on the primal matters of the -morning. - -December, following the teachings of November, began to spend its days, -holding them out one by one and tossing them into the mouth of Time. -Each day proved a little longer and a little hotter to the people of -that courageous camp. But though the season drew presently towards the -height of the summer, Power found the days too short for the journey to -Surprise. - -While Maud lived her life at Surprise and gave events into the keeping -of Time, Power still rode to Pelican Pool, but his passion was near its -end. As his brain cooled, as his malady abated, he comprehended his -position with tragic clearness, and saw the high price of what he had -thrown away. His wealth was spent on other wares, and he could not hope -to buy it again. So be it. He had chosen a bed of thistles because the -flower had seemed soft and gracious, and he would lie on it without -complaint. And still he rode day by day to the river. - -December grew middle-aged, and every sunset painted once more the -swelling cloud wrack in the South, until the evening arrived when Mr. -Horrington borrowed from the staff messhouse the single boot-last of -Surprise, borrowed from the engine driver a piece of leather belting, -borrowed from elsewhere a hammer and cobbler's nails, and sat down to -re-sole his boots against grievous days. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE FAREWELL BY THE HUT - - -There dawned at last a day hotter and longer than any the summer yet -had sent. With break of morning banks of sullen clouds were rolling -out of the South into an empty sky. The sun sulked overhead, showing a -fitful fiery face, and the air rose steaming from the ground. Little -winds came out of the South, blew brief nervous breaths, and like silly -spendthrifts wore themselves to death. Before evening was come, the -men and women of Surprise had stood again and again in their doorways -to eye the sky, to snuff the air, and to declare the rains must break -before morning. - -In the teeth of these warnings, when afternoon wore out to evening, and -dark came down to shroud the stifled day, when in the high sky not one -star could find a porthole to look through, Power rode down to Pelican -Pool. Kaloona, as well as Surprise, had read the signs of the heavens, -and Power judged the storm would burst before dawn. Dark had fallen -half-an-hour when he guided his horse among the trees by the river. - -He drew rein on the edge of the clearing in the timber, and from his -seat in the saddle looked across the open. Through the doorway of the -hut, in a long bright beam, the light came to divide the dark. Molly -sat upon a box in the doorway against a background of light. Black she -seemed, and around her was a radiance of light, and outside the light -waited the steaming dark. She sat in a reverie, her elbows on her -knees, her chin in her hands, and when the sounds of the horse reached -her, she gave no sign other than calling out, "Is that you, Jim?" - -"Yes, Molly." Power took the saddle from his horse, and came into the -eye of the lamp. The hut was empty when he glanced inside. "Alone -to-night, Molly? Are they over at the shaft?" - -"No, they went to Surprise this morning. They reckoned to be home by -dark. I thought you might be them. Maybe Dad is soaked. Mum takes a -drop times, too." - -"They had better be back soon if they mean to be back dry. The rains -are here at last." A mutter of thunder began very far away. "Listen!" - -Power took off his hat and tossed it on the table in the hut. His -dress was a shirt wide open at the neck, and his sleeves were rolled up -above his elbows. But the night grew hotter moment by moment. Molly, -on the box, kept her chin in her hands and stared out into the dark, -and he felt no more talkative than she. He leaned back against the -doorpost. As he did so a second mutter of thunder began very far away. -The trees were wrapped from sight in the dark. Not one star peered from -the sky. - -"What's the matter, Molly? Have we left you too long alone? Your -little tongue has gone to sleep, thinking there was no more use for it -to-night." She did not answer, and he thought she shivered. He bent -down this time and spoke sharply. "What's making you shiver, child? You -have not a touch of fever, have you? You had better wrap up quick and -get away from the open." - -"It isn't fever." - -Something in her voice made him stoop down until they were face to -face. "What's the matter? You are changed to-night." - -"Aw, nothing is the matter." - -She would not look round, and must stare on into the dark. Power sat on -his heels on her right hand. He lit a pipe and waited for the strange -mood to pass away. He was damp with perspiration, and the sultriness of -the night rested on him like a weight. Then he heard a voice. - -"The old dog died to-day." - -"Bluey?" - -"Yes, Bluey." - -"Bad luck for Bluey. He was very old." - -"I reckon I shall miss him." - -"Did you bury him?" - -"I couldn't find the shovel. I chucked him in the trees over there. Dad -can fix him to-morrow." - -"Is that what you have been thinking of all to-night?" - -She ignored him again. The light from the doorway showed every line of -her perfect profile, and by putting out a hand he could have touched -the hair lying about her brows. Though he looked upon her beauty every -night, he never found it grow less wonderful; but now he discovered -with a curious sense of shame that he contemplated it with the calm -born of dying passion. He would never see again so rare a work of art -as this casket, but alackaday! he had opened the lid, and the delicate -thing was empty. - -"Jim, I was glad when you came along. It made me feel queer to leave -the old dog stretched out over there. Do you reckon it true folk -sometimes feel in their bones what is to happen?" - -"What have you got in your head, child?" - -"Maybe I am talking moonshine; but I can't get the notion off me that I -won't be long following the old dog." - -"Don't talk nonsense, Molly." - -She shrugged her shoulders in the brief fashion he found so charming. -The growl of thunder came a third time from the distance, grumbling -louder and enduring longer than the claps which had sounded before, and -on the echo of this final rumble a feverish breeze sprang up, and wooed -the hair upon her forehead and laid a kind breath against his cheek. -Power looked in the track of the storm and saw only the black sky. He -began to doubt if the burst would wait for midnight. He wanted to rouse -the child into better spirits, but himself must first summon courage to -shake off the oppression of the night. Now she was speaking again--to -herself as much as to him. - -"Maybe it isn't hard to die. The old dog was curled round quiet and -easy when I found him. Sometimes when I get fair sick of hearing mum -and dad and of doin' the same old things, I think it easier to be dead -than to start to-morrow." She broke without warning into low, charming -laughter. "When we have sat a few weeks inside there with the rain -coming through every crack of the roof and each of us fair tired of -looking at the other, we'll reckon it a better game to be dead than -alive." - -"Wise men say there is another life to be lived when this one is done -with, Molly." - -"I've heard that story before, Jim. There was a parson round our ways -once with a pack-horse. He reckoned there was more business when we had -done with this place. I got him talking, for I hadn't seen a feller for -a month. But I expect there isn't too much in the tale. What do you -think, Mister?" - -"Why Mister again?" - -"Jim." - -"If there is, let us hope we make less muddle of things next time." - -"Phew! it's hot. See the lightning. You will have a wet skin to go home -in. No, I don't want to die yet. Some things don't happen too bad. I'd -be sorry not to ride a horse again or to go fishing or to hear the -birds. It isn't too bad of a morning when the sun first comes over -the plain, and it isn't too bad to hear the noises in the scrub of a -night." She stopped to smile. "And I don't want to say good-bye to you -fellows." - -"So you like us just a little bit after all?" - -For the first time she gave up watching the dark and looked round at -him out of grave eyes. He was startled at their solemnity and wondered -what she was going to say. She laid a hand upon his arm. - -"Jim, you and me are near come to the end of things, aren't we? You -aren't always fretting to kiss me now as you was. I reckon soon you -will be quite through with me." - -"Molly!" - -"Yes, it is true." - -He said nothing, but presently he moved beside her and put an arm about -her. She was staring into the dark again, and he laid his cheek against -her cheek, and they looked together in the direction where the storm -was rolling up. - -"It is time to talk about things, Molly, and there is nobody to disturb -us. When the rains come, this riding to and fro will have an end. What -is to become of us all--tell me, child? Time never stops, you know. -Life never stands still. And it looks, doesn't it, as if a man or woman -can never go back, can never stay still even, but must go on? A long -while now three men have come day by day to offer you all they have, -but not to one of them have you yet nodded your head. I wish time knew -how to stand still, so that we could have stayed as we are for ever, as -though love like some enchanter had touched us with his wand; but time -is in a hurry, and I think at last you must choose one of us and send -the others gently about their business. Molly, whisper it. Who is it to -be?" - -"If you was a girl that lived alone all day with only an old dog as -mate, you wouldn't find it easy to shake your head when a man said he -liked you. Why are you always thinking and worrying so? Why don't you -let things be?" - -"It is time, it is not me, who won't let things stand still." - -"Jim, talk straight with me. You are through with me, aren't you?" - -"Molly, I would ask you to marry me, but I know we wouldn't be happy -very long." - -He felt her take her cheek away as though he had startled her. -Presently, when she spoke, her voice was more gentle than he had ever -known it. - -"You are a good fellow; but it don't make any difference, nor make me -think other of what I know. You have come to the end of me, and it is -only because you are a good fellow that you talk of marriage. There's -no need to worry over what has gone by. Kisses don't last long after -they are kissed, and a girl wouldn't come to much harm with such as -you." She laughed again. "Fancy me the wife of the boss of Kaloona. Mum -and dad have been rowing me about it since the start. You are a good -fellow to come here with a long face and talk about marriage, but you -always was a bit soft and none the worse for that." - -While she was speaking the breeze wore out in a final timid flutter, -and the heat returned to the night, and then, while he sat there -acknowledging with a certain grim humour her words left him unmoved, he -felt her nestle against him. - -"I would not marry you if you wanted, but I will give you a kiss -instead, for I know you are a straight fellow, and that is not -forgetting what has happened with you and Miss Neville. Come, Mister, -look this way." - -He bent his head and they kissed where the beam of light clove the -dark, and it seemed to him there was less passion and more fondness in -that kiss than in all the kisses they had kissed before. Presently he -took his lips from hers, and she laid her head upon his shoulder. - -"What has made you so kind to-night, Molly?" - -He was forgotten again. She was looking into the dark as though her -sight pierced it and regarded something beyond. He could see only the -outline of her head; but in imagination he looked into her eyes which -were sleepy with dreams. A flutter of wind sprang up again in the -South--a flash of light opened and shut the heavens--there followed a -row-de-dow of thunder. The sudden commotion no whit disturbed her; but -a moment after she was speaking. - -"Mister, I've got a queer feeling. It won't let me be. Something is -going to happen." She shivered again. "Do you reckon there are things -that come and go, and we can't see them?" - -"No, silly child. We have behaved badly to you. We left you alone all -day, and your little brain, which was not meant for hard thinking, has -been run away with by big thoughts. Come, we still have our talk to -finish. We are to tell the truth to-night, and the time has come for -you to choose one of us. Whisper me the name.... Molly, I am waiting -for it.... Molly.... Then I shall have to tell you. Mick is the name -that tangles up your tongue." - -"Poor Mr. Power." - -"I have always known." - -"And now you are glad." - -"Are you going to marry him, Molly?" - -"Some day maybe." - -"He is a straight man, child. You couldn't choose a straighter one." - -Once more the wind had fluttered itself to death. She lifted her hair -from her brows to cool her forehead. - -"It will be a real old man storm and the roof isn't too good. Mum and -Dad will be at it to-morrow as soon as the rain comes through. See the -lightning that time?" - -Now, in a mysterious way, the night began to cool, and a rush of wind -leapt up and swept towards them from the distance. It broke upon the -timbered country with a loud cry, clapping and clashing the boughs -together. And presently it plucked at the hair of his head and snatched -at the folds of her dress. And then it had swept by, leaving the night -cooler for its passage. - -"What are you thinking of, Molly?" - -"That was how you liked me, and now it has all blown away." - -"Don't talk like that." - -"When are you going to see Miss Neville?" - -"I never see her now. Things have become muddled past straightening -out." - -"But you will be seeing her soon, I reckon?" - -"No. I tried to sit on two stools, and I have fallen between them." - -She laughed gently, and put a hand into one of his. "Why are you so -stupid sometimes? You are always so fond of questions. It is my turn. -Jim, you are in love with Miss Neville, aren't you?" - -"Yes, Molly." - -"Then what's wrong?" - -"A good deal seems to be wrong, child." - -"When you sit there with a long face, I can't help teasing you. I -reckon you haven't learnt too much about girls yet. There's something I -can tell you, and don't frown and scowl at once. Miss Neville was round -these ways again this afternoon. Don't look like that, I said." - -"Go on, but be kind." - -"I won't tell you why she came nor what she said; but I didn't take her -up short this time. I was glad to see her, for the old dog dying had -made me lonely. When she was going away, she asked if I was marrying -you, and I thought to do you a daddy turn at last, for sometimes you -are a good fellow. I told her you was through with me, and that you -wanted her again only you was too high and mighty to go back. This is -straight wire, Jim." - -Silence fell between them. All the while now lightning opened and shut -the dark, and a grumble of thunder sounded in the sky. Molly was the -first to break the spell. - -"It's getting late. You had better be making home. The storm will bust -soon by looks of things, and you'll be washed off the road." - -"I don't like leaving you by yourself." - -"You'd better get. Dad and Mum will be back soon." - -"Perhaps you are right, Molly." - -They rose and walked together to the horse, which he saddled. He did -not unhitch the rein from the branch. Instead, he turned and drew Molly -close against him. - -"I shall never forget you, whatever happens to us. I shall always -remember you as something very lovely and evasive. Whenever I see a -tree in blossom, I shall think of you with a lantern in your hand. -Whenever I see a star fall down the sky, I shall think of the first -kiss I gave you. But, child, it is time we gave by our kissing. Your -kisses are for someone else, and I must ride my own roads. We shall -often see each other again, but this must be our real good-bye." - -"Jim!" was all she said, though she leant closer to him. - -They kissed their last kiss by the shrunken margin of Pelican Pool. The -cloud wrack blotted out the stars; but the trees lifted wide arms above -them. They kissed their last kiss in the heat and passion of the young -night, while the flying foxes glided on quiet wings over the tree tops, -and the insect armies fluttered on their many errands about the dark. -As Power felt her lips laid against his own, he experienced a surge of -regret and thankfulness--regret for what this summer madness had cost -him--thankfulness for the widened vision he had gained. Presently he -took his lips from her lips, and bending again, laid a chaste kiss upon -her forehead. Then he had drawn himself from her embrace, and had taken -the bridle rein in his hands. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -THE COMING OF THE RAINS - - -The storm burst in the middle of the night. A rush of wind came -with a high call out of the South and tore at the hessian walls of -Surprise with multitudinous fingers. It fell with upraised voice upon -the timbered country of Pelican Pool and swung together the heads of -the trees. It leapt in rage upon the staunch homestead of Kaloona so -that the timbers groaned beneath the buffet. There blazed through the -dark a sheet of light and the ghost of day stood an instant naked and -trembling. There sounded a roar of thunder. And at once the sky was -torn from end to end to let down the rains. - -The waters struck the iron roofs of Surprise and Kaloona with the shock -of a cataract. They flogged the bleached walls of the tents. They -lashed the ground, tearing the small stones from the soil. Ever and -again lightning ripped in shreds the dark and thunder pealed in the -skies. The wind came and went in giant claps. The minutes wore out -without any wearying of this rage. - -A sheet of water crept about the face of the country, exploring and -claiming the hollows of the land. Tiny torrents tumbled wherever the -ground was broken. Dry creeks woke to life and swept upon the journey -to the river. The grasses were beaten to the ground. The saplings -cowered and wrung their limbs. And ever new lightnings tore the dark in -pieces, and thunders cracked in the skies; even the voices of drumming -waters called in the dark in answer to the shouting of the wind. - -The storm thrust a way into the tenderer places of Surprise. It pushed -through the patches in the canvas roofs, and crept through the crevices -of the walls, streaming across the floors while Mrs. Boulder, Mrs. -Niven and Mrs. Bloxham, wakened from sleep, peered upon it from their -beds. - -Said Mrs. Boulder, putting forth a heavy hand for the matches and -nudging Boulder awake. "Stow that, man, and get to it. There's -something doing, I reckon." - -Mrs. Niven, striking a match upon like scene, lifted up dolorous voice. -"Are you never goin' to raise a finger to help me, but'll stay snorin' -there till the place falls in atop of us? There won't be a dry inch in -another half hour, an' not two sticks of wood chopped, I've no doubt." - -Over all the camp dismal lights flicker up behind the walls where -Bullock, Bloxham and Johnson pass barefooted upon their errands. - -At Kaloona the storm lasted through the hours of dark. The rain roared -up and down the iron roofs. The lightning flamed outside the windows. -The thunder bellowed in the sky. Ever and anon a hurricane of wind -clapped hold of the house and shook it, or for an instant the roar of -rain died, as though a sudden giant hand had plucked away the heavens. -As each blaze of lightning wrenched the landscape from the dark, Power -from his standing place by the window, and Mrs. Elliott and Maggie from -the security of bed, looked upon a country over which crept a wide -reach of water. - -Power was considering bed when the storm began and set him thinking -of other things. He lit a pipe and stood before the window spectator -of events. He stood for a long time without turning round, but left -his post presently, picked up the lamp from the table and made the -way down a passage. He stopped before a door and hammered upon it -until it opened. By the light of the lamp Mrs. Elliott was discovered -confronting him, more ample than ever in her wide nightgown. He -shouted at her above the cry of the rain. - -"How are you doing in there? Nothing coming through yet?" - -"O.K. to date, Mr. Power. Don't you worry for us. It looks as though -the whole place'll bust and go up in a cloud of smoke, don't it?" Mrs. -Elliott beamed upon him. - -"I'm just round the corner. Call me if you want me." He nodded -good-night and the door shut. Back in the sitting-room he put the lamp -on the table and took a stand once more by the window. - -He gave up all thoughts of bed. The cries of the storm and the lights -blazing through the window keyed up his nerves. He became full of -fancies of which Molly Gregory was the beginning and the end. He -reproached himself for not remaining until the others came back. In the -face of this tumult it seemed a brutal thing to have left the child -alone. But now the others would be back, and his fancies did no good. -Once more repenting the event! - -Then his thoughts made their way to Surprise. Was his punishment coming -to an end? If he went back and asked forgiveness, would he be forgiven? -Molly had told him yes. He had no right to hope for such a thing, yet -Maud knew now he loved her. And in truth he loved her as he had not -known how to love a woman a little while ago--loving her body, because -it was her body; but counting it of small value beside the spirit. Hope -was coming back to him to-night with the reviving influence of a cool -wind searching the forehead of a castaway in a desert place. - -The door by the verandah steps swung wide open. The storm swept inside -the house in a greedy gust. The curtains at the windows were caught up -in the air. The light leapt up the chimney of the lamp and went out. He -was in the dark. He ran across and pushed the door to. It buffeted him -on the shoulder. A glare of lightning lit up the house. He bolted the -door, came back and lit the lamp, and wiped the rain off his face. - -The endurance of this storm was remarkable. Commonly the rain was -spent within an hour and a lull came. If this did not abate the river -would be coming down. They were safe up here on the rise, but it was -another matter with the hut on Pelican Pool. Every few years there -came a flood which covered all that country. Surely Gregory could -look after himself. He was a bushman even if he was a fool. What was -he--Power--worrying about? He was depressed because he was damp and -circulation went down at this time and the jumping light thrown by the -lamp would give any man the blues. - -Finally, while Power stood there at odds with himself, the storm ceased -as suddenly as it had begun. - -The hush following on the heels of the tumult brought him abruptly out -of his thoughts. He left the room, pushed open the wire door, and stood -upon the verandah steps. The sky was covered with clouds over all its -face, causing the night to be pitch dark. The air was very cool. A -light wind felt the way hither and thither among the nodding boughs of -the saplings; and in all places were countless small voices of dripping -waters. - -A frog croaked from the direction of the river. A frog replied to it. -There followed several croaks, then many croaks. Presently in tens, -presently in scores, presently in hundreds were raised the voices of -the frogs. The chorus rose up everywhere. A-rrr! A-rrr! Mo-rrr-e! -Mo-rrr-e! More water! More water! More water! Then the thunder began -again in the South, and the lightning leapt across the dark. The second -storm rolled out of the horizon and broke upon the land. - -Later on Power found the way to bed; but he slept badly and quite soon -it seemed to be morning. - -Kaloona household woke up to a cheerless day. In a lull between the -storms light crept into the sky. Power from his window, Mrs. Elliott -and Maggie from the kitchen, stared upon a strange country. Heaven was -choked with frowning clouds looking down upon a broken land. Pools -of water filled the depressions. The higher country was beaten and -furrowed. Many boughs had been torn from the timber by the river. The -saplings bent piteously before the morning wind. Moisture dripped from -the leaves down and down until it reached the ground. In all places -tiny streams trickled about the country. A thousand small voices of -dropping waters murmured in open and hidden places. Louder than the -voices of the waters rose the concert of the frogs. - -"Meg," said Mrs. Elliott, coming into the damp kitchen first thing, -"we'll be drowned yet, mark me, before this is done." - -"It don't look too good," said Maggie. - -"It don't. There's worse to come," went on Mrs. Elliott, taking a look -into the wood box. "What's more, there wouldn't have been a dry stick -in the house if that horrid little man had had his way. I don't know -what the boss keeps him for." - -"The boss himself is got pretty cranky," said Maggie. "It's time he -took a pull on himself." - -"It is, Meg." - -The storms pursued each other from dawn to the middle of the day. In -the space of moments the sky would blacken, thunder would peal out -and a flare of lightning split the heavens. The rain would drum again -on the iron roofs. There fell lulls when Power idled on the verandah -looking over the country; but towards noon, when the sky was clear -for a space, he picked the way to the stables. The ground was filled -with pools of water, and the higher land was a morass. There was a -bitterness in the air that persuaded him to keep hands in his pockets. -He felt dispirited and on edge. - -When he pushed open the stable door Scandalous Jack was fussing round -the stalls. The big black horse was in a box, and near it a chestnut -horse of O'Neill's. Scandalous Jack stopped working with great -readiness and shouted salutations of the day. - -"Marnin', gov'nor, and a bad one at that! I reckon we'll be carrying -our swags to Surprise this time to-morrow if things don't take a pull. -Yer see I kept these two inside. They'll do better in than out, and it -will be a fool's game running horses for a bit! The black feller don't -look bad, do he?" - -"He's pretty well," said Power, looking the black horse over. - -"He's that!" shouted Scandalous, "and I was the man to do it. The lip -that woman gives at the house would make you think there was nothing to -do but run after her. I'll let her have it one day--her, and the gel -too, hot and strong." - -"Then you are a braver man than I am, Scandalous," Power said, moving -on. "Keep the horses in. They may be wanted." - -O'Neill kicked his heels in the yards at the back of the stables, pipe -in mouth and an expression on his face to match the day. Power nodded. - -"Pretty heavy fall," he said. "The river will be down by evening--and -pretty big too." - -O'Neill shook his head. "Do you reckon they are all right at the Pool? -There's times the water fills that channel behind them, you know." - -"They are right enough if Gregory knows his business. I've a mind to go -across in the afternoon if the weather lifts." - -Power glanced overhead. Another storm was spreading across the sky. He -started to return to the house. The day was quickly darkening and the -prospect looked dismal beyond contemplation. Half-a-dozen unoccupied -people loitered in sight, and the single patch of colour was where the -gins in brilliant rags smoked in the doorway of their hut. He went -indoors with the hump. Maggie was laying lunch in the dining-room. -"Twelve o'clock?" he asked. - -Maggie went out of the room. He fell into contemplation by the window -until Mrs. Elliott bustled in on a household errand and brought him to -his senses. - -"Don't moon about like that," she cried at sight of him. "Get some work -to do." - -"Find it for me," he said, turning towards her. - -Mrs. Elliott confronted him in battle array. "Mr. Power, it's time -you took a hold on yourself. This running to and fro every night in -the dark isn't no good to you nor to Miss Neville, nor to me for that -matter. You'll make a mess o' things soon and I'm old enough to be your -mother." - -"Perhaps the mess is made." - -"Now, Mr. Power, I'm talking straight. Things won't be too mixed to -put right if you start now. All men are the same and I know a deal -about them. They can get themselves boxed up as easy as sheep in a -yard, but they are not so quick at the untangling." Mrs. Elliott came -closer and grew confidential. She lifted a fat finger. "And I'll tell -you something more, Mr. Power. All gels are much of a kind too. You may -have a split with them, but if you go back and drop the soft word into -their ears you can get them kind again." - -Maggie came in with the dishes, and a moment after the storm burst -above the house. - -The women went out of the room and he began a solitary meal. The rain -flogged the iron roof. Presently Maggie appeared to change the dishes -and afterwards he was sitting before the finished meal listening to -the tumult and feeling too out of temper to light a pipe. On one thing -his mind was made up. He would ride to the Pool in the afternoon if he -was washed off the road in the attempt. The river would come down in -the evening. The family must be brought back and the world could wag -its tongue. He was getting the blues for ever debating on the child's -safety. - -Without warning the rain was snatched back into the sky. The sudden -silence confounded him. Then he threw back his head. Far away rose the -voice of tremendous waters. One deep note without rise or fall was -being played. He listened with all his might. He could not be mistaken. -The river had come down. - -He pushed back his chair and got to his feet. The verandah was a few -steps away. The storm was hurrying out of the sky and the day had -brightened once more. All over the country arose again the gentle -melodious cries of dripping waters. He leant on the rail by the -verandah steps. Now the thunder of the river was distinct, and among -the trees he saw here and there widening sheets of water. He had not -made a mistake. - -His depression left him in a moment. He began to think very quickly. -The river must have reached the Pool two hours ago. He had never known -such a sudden flood. By this time the water would be all over that low -country. The Gregorys would be without a home. What if the fellow had -proved a fool and taken risks? He must satisfy himself. He must go -without delay. - -He went inside again. He found his spurs and pulled on an oilskin. Mrs. -Elliott came running down the passage. - -"The river is down, Mr. Power. A regular old man flood." - -He answered walking past her. "I heard it. I shall be away in a minute. -I may bring back those people on the river. You had better have -something ready." - -"Don't dare bring 'em inside the place!" cried Mrs. Elliott, but the -door was shut on her words. - -As Power left the house a man on horseback was coming through the gate -of the homestead paddock. The horse had been pushed to the limit of -its strength. It breathed with sobs and trembled as it walked. The -rider rolled in the saddle. Man and beast were plastered with a coat of -mud. It covered them from the crown of the man's hat to the hoofs of -the horse. Then the rider spat clear his mouth and called out. It was -Gregory. - -"The river has come down! The gel is drowned!" - -Power felt a sudden rage seize him by the throat; but he answered in a -level voice. "What's that you say?" - -"The river's down. The gel's drowned!" - -"What were you doing?" - -"I was at Surprise with the missus. We was on a bit of a spree. We -wasn't back last night. I rode down an hour since. The river was down -then and the hut going to bits. The water had come round the back of -the place. There wasn't a sign of the gel. She'd have tried to cross -and got washed away. Aw, Gawd, what's to be done?" - -"Get out of the way!" Power said. He moved towards the stables at a -walk that was becoming a run. Scandalous Jack bobbed about the doorway. -"Saddle my horse!" he called out. - -Scandalous threw up his head in surprise. "You're not mad enough -to----?" - -"Saddle that horse!" he shouted. Scandalous bobbed inside. - -Power began to call out for O'Neill. The man came out of the doorway -of his hut. With common consent they ran towards each other. "Gregory -is here. The child is drowned!" The two men began to run faster and -towards the stable. "We might be in time. I am going now." - -Scandalous was coming out of the stable door with the black horse. It -threw its head this way and that, snorting loudly. Scandalous, very -full of respect, nursed his corns. Power took the reins. O'Neill was -running for a saddle. - -"Scandalous, listen to me. The river has come down at Pelican Pool. -There's been an accident. Gregory's girl may be drowned. I'm going -there now. Send Jackie after the buggy horses. You must bring the buggy -as fast as you can. Bring anything useful. Bring some rope. Bring -blankets. Bring whisky. Find Jackie now. Jackie!" - -He gathered the reins in one hand and put the other on the saddle. The -wind arrived and blew his oilskin into the air. The black horse sent a -blast from its nostrils and reared high; but as it came to ground he -was gaining the saddle. He picked up the stirrups and drew the reins -together. The wind was in his face. Far away, but loud, sounded the -roar of the river. The beast beneath him reefed at the reins. The small -paddock was covered in a score of bounds. He found he must use both -hands to check the animal. Pools of water splashed under them and the -mud sucked at its hoofs. Clods of earth leapt upon his back. The gate -demanded a halt. He pushed open the gate with his foot. - -The Pool was distant only a few miles; but travelling was so bad he -dared not force the pace. He left the gate wide open, and turned -towards the river. He took the reins in both hands. He bent his head a -little. A stream of lightning flooded the sky. A rush of wind hit him a -buffet in the face. The day began to darken. He felt the animal's mouth -with firm hands. It answered the signal. - -It plunged away, leaning hard on his hands. It was the most powerful -beast he rode, yet he hesitated to give it head. He knew the spur must -be used before the end of the journey. The country was a bog. Sheets of -shallow water covered the plain. It was a struggle to win a foot of the -rough ground. They rode for a spill. Every yard of travelling splashed -him to the top of his head. On the higher ground, uncovered by the -water, clouts of mud struck him behind. - -The day had turned black. Lightning poured out of the clouds. Thunder -stamped upon the sky until it trembled. Here and here a starved sapling -stood up in the water. There and there a broken tuft of spinifex lifted -up its sodden spikes. He looked once over his shoulder to see O'Neill -labouring half-a-mile behind. A second rush of wind, fiercer than the -first, beat him in the face. The new storm was about to break. - -He wondered what he was thinking of, and he found he was not thinking. -Instead, he was filled with a grievous sense of tragedy. He was late. -Once more he was late. He had left her alone to die. - -In the teeth of better judgment he tightened the reins and signalled -greater speed. A blaze of lightning tore the sky in half; the thunder -shattered overhead and the rains rushed out of the sky. He thought the -shock had thrown the beast off its feet. It propped on the instant and -swung around. Good luck and skill held him in the saddle. He strove to -turn it around, but it would not answer him. His nerves were worn raw -and his temper got the better of wisdom. He fell upon it with whip and -spur. - -It came round at last and began to thrust sideways through the -downpour. The rains scourged them. The water leapt from his shoulders -back into his face. The landscape was blotted out. In an instant the -lower half of him was wet through. He could not see. He could hear -nothing but the rain. He felt the suck and draw of the animal's hoofs -as it rolled along. Again and again the lightning thrust its arms about -the sky. He rode through the rain-burst for a very long time. Without -warning he passed out on the other side. The rain stopped, the storm -rolled behind him, the day grew bright again. - -He had covered most of the journey. The river was a mile away, but his -horse was done. He himself felt dazed and his clothes held him with -clammy fingers. The passing of the storm had left the world very still. -He rubbed the water from his eyes. Someone was ahead of him. A buggy -advanced to the edge of the timbered country. It contained only the -driver, who was crouched over the reins. He thought he recognised King. - -Something farther away than King arrested his vision. Half of the -journey had been made across a sheet of shallow water; but over there, -where the higher trees began, the water eddied and tossed, betraying -the edge of the river. He looked on the highest flood in his memory. -The timber concealed the great body of water; but far away on the other -side of the trees climbed the flood. A deep note came across to him; -the voice of the river hurrying to its marriage with the sea. - -He did not remember finishing the journey. He bullied a spent horse the -rest of the way. After a long time they reached the edge of the timber -where a minute or two before the buggy had come to a halt. - -He pulled up the horse beside the buggy. Mr. King had got down and was -standing in the water. They did not trouble to greet each other, and -he thought King looked out of his mind. They stood on the edge of the -flood waters. Half-a-mile away the body of the river roared on its -journey. In the intervening space the trees stood out of the sluggish -water shaking their damaged boughs in the wind. The shaded ways, the -quiet places had gone; there was no sign of Pelican Pool. - -His breath came back, and with his breath returned his presence of -mind. He forgot the man beside him and stared over the ears of the -horse. One by one old landmarks were picked up, and at last his eye -found the wreckage of the hut. It was a third of the way across the -river. The main body of water swept beyond it, but an arm of the river -had come in this way. Horror laid a hand upon his heart. - -A terrible cry rang out beside him. "My Princess! My Princess!" Mr. -King was looking at the hut. Of a sudden he began running towards it. -He ran stumbling a long way and stopped only when the water reached his -knees. He threw his arms before him and cried again in the terrible -voice: "My Princess! My Princess!" The roar of the river came back in -answer. - -Power touched the horse with his heel and it began to walk forward -through the water. As the depth increased, the beast snorted and threw -about its head. They had advanced a little way, when O'Neill overtook -them, and the two men moved side by side towards the broken water. - -Power believed now Molly Gregory was dead. The child had sat all night -in the hut after he had left her listening to the storms breaking -outside. No doubt she had been filled with fancies which had mocked -at sleep. To-day she had watched the water climbing towards her door -with greedy lips. She had fled at last in panic to the land, and the -blundering river had seized her in its arms. - -He believed she was dead, and here he sat on horseback guiding the -beast forward, holding it tight when it stumbled, avoiding the -driftwood, and bending his head beneath limbs of trees. She was dead -and he moved forward towards the body of the river, while the gentle -waves of this back channel crept up the legs of his horse so that now -they licked its belly. He did this calmly and with a cool brain. Was he -over quick at forgetting, or had too much sorrow defeated itself, as -one pain is cured by another? - -She was dead, but the three men that had loved her were still condemned -to use the eyes that had looked upon her, to employ the arms that had -supported her, to move the lips that had been pressed by her kisses. - -There came an end to the advance. A stone's throw beyond the halting -place began the current. The river swept on its journey with a high -tremendous cry. Far among the timber on the other bank brown currents -surged and boiled. Trunks of trees whirled down from distant forests; -rubbish from a hundred places hurried out of sight. The lesser trees -danced their leaves upon the waves. Like a barbarous giant the river -thundered to the sea. - -Somewhere in that yeast of waters the child's fair body hurried away. -From the tumult of the river it was passing to the amorous embraces of -a coral sea. The scarlet lips where so many men had left their kisses -would be caressed anew by the gentle lips of an ocean. By day and by -night that slender form would float on its final journey, peering into -the mouths of solemn caverns, stroked by the tresses of love-sick -weeds, secure from the greedy suns staring hungrily through the blue -roof, and followed by the curious moon as she looked to see what -radiant thing took its walk by dark along the ocean bed. - -The brilliant fishes would arrive to peer at this rare thing, the -loathsome octopus beneath his ledge of rock would hide his shame behind -a sepia curtain, and presently the brown pearl-fisher, descending from -his bobbing barque, would halt in wonder at a pearl larger and more -lustrous than all his toils had brought him. - -Where had fled the little soul? Perhaps as a tiny jewelled bird already -it fluttered through celestial fields, quick and charming and bright, -but a thing of small account. In that new country where sight was -keener, it would not again be priced above its worth. - -The flow and hurry of the river was drugging Power's mind. He broke the -spell by a jerk of the head, and looking behind him saw King not very -far away deep in the water. King was suddenly an old man. Power turned -to the horseman beside him. O'Neill stared at the broken hut. His head -was thrust forward, and he sat huddled in the saddle. The water had -climbed to the saddle-flap, and the ends of his oilskin played with the -waves. He began to speak at that moment. - -"I reckon I'd have a chance of getting across. I could go higher up and -beat the pull of the current." - -"You wouldn't," Power said. "And no use if you could. She isn't there. -We shan't see her again." - -"Gawd! I must go across! I can't stay here!" - -"It will do no good, Mick. She has escaped us." - -Power drew his horse beside the other man, for the clamour of the river -made speech difficult. He began to speak more intimately than ever he -remembered doing. - -"Once I loved her in a way it will be hard to love anyone else. Then -passion seemed to go away--somewhere, I don't know where; but she -taught me so much I shall never be out of her debt. She has made me -look on life with new eyes. - -"I have something to tell you. I was down here last night before the -rain began. She had been alone all day, and she was quite strange--so -serious. We talked about a lot of things, and I asked her which of us -three she loved. She said it was you. The three of us fought over her, -and in the middle she slipped away and it seems we have lost her; but -because she loved you, she left you her best behind. - -"We must go back and get dry. There is nothing else to do. To-morrow, -if the storms keep away, we can look for her lower down; but we won't -find her. Just now the world seems to have come to an end. Things will -be straighter in a bit, and we'll find there is something to be got out -of this. To reach for a thing and to get it may be good enough, but a -man grows quicker by stretching for the thing beyond his hand. We shall -always remember her as a fairy thing out of reach, and looking for her -to come again will help a fellow to growl less in the summer, give him -more patience to teach his dog manners, hurry him through the day's -work. Come, we must get back." - -Power brought his horse about. He heard O'Neill splash behind him. He -went across to King, and King turned up a haggard face. - -"We must get back. There is nothing to do." - -The three men began to splash towards the land. Two more buggies had -arrived on the bank. Scandalous Jack was getting down from one, and the -other was drawn by the white buggy horses of Surprise. The old man sat -in the driver's seat and beside him was Maud Neville. Power met her -glance across the distance. The three men reached the bank. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -THE MEETING BY THE RIVER - - -Power dismounted. He was full of tiny pains and the cold was beginning -to eat into his bones. Neville had pulled up the buggy near at hand. -The old man was plastered with mud to his shaggy eyebrows. - -"Hey, Power!" he shouted out. "What's become of the gel?" - -"We were too late." - -"Goodness, that's a nuisance! Get out, Maud, gel. I want to get down." -The two people got down from the buggy. "Now that's annoyin'," went -on the old man, feeling under the seat for his stick. "Nearly killed -ourselves getting here, too. I may be wrong, but I reckon the horses -won't be much good for a day or two, huh, huh! Here's what I was after. -It's looking a bit more settled over there now. The rain may be gone -for a while." - -Scandalous arrived across the mud. - -"Hold this horse," Power said. He delivered it and walked forward to -meet Neville. They had not met for many days and saluted each other -abruptly. - -"The gel's drowned after all, then, Power?" - -"Yes." - -"You would have thought a gel like her would find sense to look after -herself. No sign of her anywhere about?" The old man cast glances up -and down the bank. - -"We'll search lower down to-morrow." - -"Yes, I reckon that's all there is to do. It's not much use hanging -round here gettin' cold. The river came down pretty quick and pretty -big. Gracious! What's up with King! Goodness, he's badly hit!" - -The old man trotted away after King. - -Maud stood beside the buggy. She was looking at the river. Power found -himself watching her. She was wet through and blown about by the wind; -but her gaze was steady as it followed the rush of the current. Of -those who had hurried here in panic, she only was serene; yet the -schoolmaster had set her the severest tasks. It must be she was the -aptest pupil. Power tried to follow her thoughts. She was finding a -symbol in the river. It had rushed down with a great cry upon this -quiet place, snatching away the old landmarks. Its fury would wear out -presently, and over the wrecked country a kindly growth of green would -make its way. That was what she saw. - -Power fell into reflection. Two months ago he had found Gregory -sleeping a drunken sleep on the road, had taken pity on him and had -led him home. In the doorway of a shabby tent beside the river he had -seen Molly for the first time. Two months had gone by since then, and -for sixty days he had lived life more acutely than he had believed -possible. He would not wish to live life so keenly again. He seemed -to have travelled in every country. He seemed to have lived in every -climate. He seemed to have climbed every height and to have gone down -into every dark way. All books had been opened that he might look -inside. All strings of experience had been plucked that he might listen -to new notes. - -These two months were at an end, and there seemed no more countries -to visit, no more climates to test, no more heights to climb, no -more depths to descend. The books were being shut. The strings of -experience were growing mute. Instead of turning his ears to siren -voices, he listened again to the speech of everyday. In place of fields -of asphodel, he trod again the highway. It was time to see where he -stood--to add up gains and subtract losses. - -Strange that the metal must pass through the fire before the artificer -will receive it. Strange that a man must experience sorrow before -wisdom will shape him to its ends. Yet such burnings need not be -considered punishment, such sorrow need not be counted degradation. - -He had served his apprenticeship to love and now might call himself -craftsman. He knew where to chisel with his tools--not in the poor -material of the human body, but in the enduring fabric of the spirit. -He had learned this craft, and the fee of apprenticeship had been that -he had put aside unrecognised the finest material that would come under -his hand. - -He came out of his reverie and found Maud watching him. He went towards -her through the pools of water. - - . . . . . . - -My tale is told. While nine months have been wearing out, I have come -back, night by night, to this tent, a scribe who would beguile the -hour with the telling of a story. The tale is told to the last word. -Put down the pen; run in the horses and saddle up. It is time to seek -new places. The railway line creeps across the plain to Surprise; and -growth and change will fall upon the camp to devour it. Take down the -tent, fill up the tucker-bags and load the pack-horse. It is time to be -gone. - - -W. C. Penfold & Co. Ltd., Printers, 183 Pitt Street, Sydney. - - - - -_November, 1917._ - -_Just Published._ - - -_By Zora Cross._ _Just published._ - - SONGS OF LOVE AND LIFE. With additional poems and portrait, 7Ā½ - Ć 6 inches, 5/-. - -_By Sydney De Loghe._ _Just published._ - - PELICAN POOL: an Australian novel by Sydney De Loghe, author of - "The Straits Impregnable." Crown 8vo. cl. 5/-. - - -_By A. B. Paterson._ _Just published._ - - THREE ELEPHANT POWER, and Other Stories. 7Ā½ Ć 6 inches, 4/-. - - -_John Shirlow._ _Just published._ - - ETCHINGS CHIEFLY OF VIEWS IN MELBOURNE AND SYDNEY, reproduced by - the intaglio process. Picture boards, 2/6. - - -_By C. J. Dennis._ _23rd thousand._ - - THE GLUGS OF GOSH. With frontispiece and title-page in colour by - Hal Gye. - - Ordinary Edition, 7Ā½ Ć 6 inches, 4/-. - - Pocket Edition for the Trenches, 5Ā¾ Ć 4Ā½ inches, 4/-. - - Blue Wren Edition, with 6 additional full-page plates in colour, - handsomely bound, 7Ā½ Ć 6 inches, 7/6. - - -_By Leon Gellert._ _8th thousand._ - - SONGS OF A CAMPAIGN. Fourth edition, with 25 additional poems, and - 16 pictures by Norman Lindsay, 7Ā½ Ć 6 inches, 4/-. - - -_By May Gibbs._ _12th thousand._ - - GUM-BLOSSOM BABIES. An Australian Booklet, with coloured and other - pictures, in envelope ready for posting, 1/-. - - -_By May Gibbs._ _12th thousand._ - - GUM-NUT BABIES. An Australian Booklet, with coloured and other - pictures, in envelope ready for posting, 1/-. - - -SYDNEY: ANGUS & ROBERTSON LTD - - -_By C. J. Dennis._ _64th thousand._ - - DOREEN: A Christmas Story in Verse. With coloured and other - illustrations by Hal Gye. In envelope ready for posting, 1/-. - - -_By C. J. Dennis._ _74th thousand._ - - THE SONGS OF A SENTIMENTAL BLOKE. With coloured and other - illustrations by Hal Gye. - -Ordinary Edition, 7Ā½ Ć 6 inches, 4/-. - -Pocket Edition for the Trenches, 5Ā¾ Ć 4Ā¼ inches, 4/-. - - -_By C. J. Dennis._ _44th thousand._ - - THE MOODS OF GINGER MICK. With coloured and other illustrations by - Hal Gye. - -Ordinary Edition, 7Ā½ Ć 6 inches. 4/-. - -Pocket Edition for the Trenches, 5Ā¾ Ć 4Ā½ inches, 4/-. - - -_By Will H. Ogilvie._ _7th thousand._ - - THE AUSTRALIAN, and Other Verses. With coloured frontispiece and - title-page by Hal Gye. - -Ordinary Edition, 7Ā½ Ć 6 inches, 4/-. - -Pocket Edition for the Trenches, 5Ā¾ Ć 4Ā½ inches, 4/-. - - -POCKET EDITIONS FOR THE TRENCHES. - -Size 5Ā¾ Ć 4Ā½ inches. Each volume with frontispiece and title-page -in colour, price 4/-. - - THE GLUGS OF GOSH. By C. J. Dennis. Illustrated by Hal Gye. - - THE SONGS OF A SENTIMENTAL BLOKE. By C. J. Dennis. Illustrated by - Hal Gye. - - THE MOODS OF GINGER MICK. By C. J. Dennis. Illustrated by Hal Gye. - - THE AUSTRALIAN, AND OTHER VERSES. By Will H. Ogilvie. Illustrated - by Hal Gye. - - SALTBUSH BILL, J.P., AND OTHER VERSES. By A. B. Paterson. - Illustrated by Lionel Lindsay. - - THE MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER. By A. B. Paterson. Illustrated by Norman - Lindsay. - - RIO GRANDE, AND OTHER VERSES. By A. B. Paterson. Illustrated by - Hal Gye. - - -SYDNEY: ANGUS & ROBERTSON LTD. - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PELICAN POOL *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Pelican Pool<br /> -Ā Ā A Novel</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Sydney De Loghe</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 19, 2020 [eBook #63238]<br /> -[Most recently updated: October 30, 2021]</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PELICAN POOL ***</div> - -<div class ="mynote"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:<br /><br /> -Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.<br /></p></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/front.jpg" alt="front" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<h1>PELICAN POOL</h1> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/title.jpg" alt="title page" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="bold2">PELICAN<br />POOL</p> - -<p class="bold">A NOVEL<br />BY</p> - -<p class="bold2">SYDNEY DE LOGHE</p> - -<p class="bold">Author of<br />"The Straits Impregnable"</p> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/dec.jpg" alt="Decoration" /></div> - -<p class="bold space-above">SYDNEY<br />ANGUS & ROBERTSON LTD.<br />1917</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center">Printed by<br />W. C. Penfold & Co. Ltd., 183 Pitt Street, Sydney<br />for<br />Angus & Robertson Ltd.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center">TO<br /><br />M. L.<br /><br />WHO, AT SUCH A PLACE AS SURPRISE, HAS<br />BORNE THE HEAT AND BURDEN OF THE DAY</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table summary="CONTENTS"> - <tr> - <td colspan="2" class="left"><span class="smaller">Chapter</span></td> - <td><span class="smaller">Page</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>I. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Where to Find Surprise Valley Camp</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>II. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">How They Pass the Evening at Surprise</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>III. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Pelican Pool</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Kaloona Run</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>V. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Hut by Pelican Pool</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Coach comes to Surprise</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Return to Surprise</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>VIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Banks of the Pool</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>IX. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">How the Days pass by at Surprise</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>X. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">How the Days pass by at Kaloona</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Parting by the Pool</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_190">190</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Selwyn hears some News</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Journey to the Pool</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Halt by the Road</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XV. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Parting of the Way</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Summer Days</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Errand to the Pool</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XVIII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Bottom of the Valley</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_264">264</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XIX. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Selwyns return South</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XX. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Farewell by the Hut</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_282">282</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XXI. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Coming of the Rains</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>XXII. </td> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">The Meeting by the River</span></td> - <td><a href="#Page_319">319</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER I</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">Where to Find Surprise Valley Camp</span></span></h2> - -<p>Where the equator girdles the earth, the Indian Ocean and the amorous -waters of the Pacific have their marriage bed. Afire with the passions -of the tropics, excited by breezes from a thousand islands of palm, of -spice, of coral, of pearl, jewelled for the ceremony with quick-lived -phosphorous lights, the oceans move to each other, and mingle hot -kisses under high red suns and fierce white moons. They have begotten -many children; and one of these—the Sea of Carpentaria—leans deep -into the northern coast of Australia, and wears itself against a -thousand miles of barren shore.</p> - -<p>As a young girl, dreaming her dreams, spends affection careless of the -cost, so these romantic waters woo the stern northern land with warm -and tireless embrace. And, as a man, busy on his own affairs, cares -nothing for such soft entreaty, so the north land gives no sign; but -remarks in silence the passage of the years. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> - -<p>Yet who shall say that passion has no place there—because a giant -broods, dreaming a giant's dreams? Who shall say—because long waiting -may have brought crabbed age—that the north land has not its sorrows? -Morose countenance it keeps, yet freely can it spend. Its pulse beats -no feeble strokes. Fierce suns travel across it, the heavens are torn -for its rains, its floods laugh at restraint, the drought is slave of -its ill-humours.</p> - -<p>Its face is rough with frequent ranges where scanty vegetation climbs, -where barren rock-faces catch the sunlight, and clefts run in, and -shadowy cave-mouths open out. Here the wallaby finds harbourage, the -bat hangs himself in the shadows, the python unrolls his coils, and the -savage stays a space for shelter.</p> - -<p>Its face is smooth with dreary plain. Stunted trees find living there, -and hold out narrow leaves to cheat the suns. The spinifex battles with -the thrifty soil, and porcupine grass weaves its spikes for the unwary. -Score of miles by score of miles the country rolls away, brown or red -where shows the bare earth, grey or yellow or smoky blue where the sun -weds the dried grassland, shining white where the quartz pushes out of -the ground. Through half the hours the sun stares from the centre of -the sky, the leaves hang unmoved, the grasses are <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>unstirred: silence -only lives. The savage is dreaming of the feast to come, the kangaroo -has taken himself to the roots of a tree in the dried water-course. The -sun passes to the journey's end: life again draws breath. The kangaroo -seeks the tenderer grasses; the dingo rises in his lair to stretch, and -loll his tongue; the parrot screams from the tree-top; tiny finches, in -splendid coats, swing among the bushes; a brown kite takes high station -in the sky. Yet the waste seems empty, and the white ants only may -boast of conquest where their red cones rise everywhere about the plain.</p> - -<p>A belt of greener timber stands out bravely from the faded vegetation -to mark the river on its passage to the sea. To the parching waterholes -the pelican comes at dawn to fish and to pout his breast: snowy -spoonbills and divers splash in the lonely shallows. The alligator -comes up to sun himself; the turtle bubbles from the hot mud; and the -quick striped fishes play at hide and seek among the languid weeds. The -kingfisher busies himself along the bank, and with evening the ducks -push their triangles about the sky.</p> - -<p>The conquest of this northern land will bring the fall of one of -savagery's last fortresses. Already the outposts of South and East -press in. The ramparts are crumbling, and soon the gates<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> must tumble -to a victor who never yet has been denied. The white man has turned -here his covetous gaze. Vainly the burning winds and angry rains shall -beat at the ashes of his first fires and shall scatter his first -solitary bones. The silences shall not fright him, nor the lean places -turn his purpose. Though he fall, yet will he come on again, for this -foe is fashioned of stern stuff. In ones, in twos, already he toils -over the face of the wilderness, seeking the kindlier ways for his -herds: in ones, in twos, he passes about the hills and watercourses, -wresting from their bosoms the objects of his avarice. Alike he invades -the sternest and gentlest retreats, raising his shelters to mock at sun -and storm. His long fences are breaking the distances, his beasts of -burden trample the virgin waterholes, his iron houses defile the hermit -vales. Not easily does he work his will. Lean and brown he becomes, and -his women grow haggard before their time. But children patter upon the -bitter places, and them the wilderness has less power to hurt.</p> - -<p>The Sea of Carpentaria woos the north land. The north land gives no -sign.</p> - -<p class="center">. . . . . . .</p> - -<p>The mining camp of Surprise Valley lies in the folds of those ranges -which break the long plains of the Gulf country. Ten years ago it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> grew -along the bottom of a cup of the hills, and since that season neither -has waxed nor waned, being nothing troubled by the wilderness which -marches to the door-ways of its tents and humble iron houses.</p> - -<p>The traveller, by circumstance brought thither from the East, with ill -grace leaves his steamer at the coast, boards the casual train, and -presently finds himself jerking forward on the second stage of the -journey. He bumps westward for five hundred miles. He moves through -plains which—right and left—push into the horizon. The ocean has not -seemed to him more immense. A curtain of heat is about their edges, a -haze dwells about them. The clamour of his coming scatters sheep at -their grazing, alarms the kangaroo at matins, sends the wild turkey -into the taller grasses. For a night, for a day, for half another -night, he is held in thrall. He alone appears eager for the journey -end. He smokes, he reads, he eats: a dozen ways he sets himself to -hurry time. The cool of the evening takes him to the outside platform -of the car to reflect and watch the darkening of the skies—to remark -the first white stars. At such hour maybe he takes his lot in better -part.</p> - -<p>Sunrise renews the stale prospect, and the heated air of noon finds him -with sticky collar and drowsy brain. He dozes, wakes, dozes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> again. -Ever and anon the brakes grind, and the train jerks to a standstill. -From the window he looks upon a siding, where a platform of blistered -planks and an iron shed are emblems of railway authority. A dozen -stockmen and loafers of the township crowd the patch of shade, to -smoke and spit and await the train's advance. First to the eye comes -the hotel, beside it lies the store; and haphazard stand the wooden -houses, with iron roofs glaring back into the sun's fierce face. Never -a church lifts up its cross as of old the tabernacle made signal in the -wilderness. A dusty way leads into the plain, and along this presently -the stockmen will turn their horses.</p> - -<p>The second evening brings the journey-end. From his platform the -traveller sees a township's lights grow upon the plain—lights closer -and redder than the stars that meet them. The iron rails have ended. -Thankfully he gets down to stretch his limbs in the cool, wide night.</p> - -<p>But a hundred miles still frown him from the goal. With morning he -clambers into a seat of the mail coach—a battered carriage. His -luggage has been strapped behind. He sits solitary beside the driver, -who accepts him with easy familiarity. The reins run slack to the -horses' heads, and the five lean beasts draw him forward at even pace. -The dust climbs up and hangs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> upon the air. All day he rolls over empty -plain.</p> - -<p>The second afternoon brings the ranges marching from the horizon, and -by evening the coach rises and dips upon a see-saw roadway. As the -sun leans down to the horizon, the driver draws taut his reins before -Surprise Valley Hotel. Surprise Valley ends the coach journey—ends -the direct mail service—ends the bush parson's endeavors—ends the -travelling school-master's rounds—ends civilization—ends everything. -When humour so inclines them—which is seldom—the people of Surprise -Valley may walk from their doorways into the great unknown of the West.</p> - -<p>Fortune has given to Surprise the greenest fold of the western ranges. -Easy hills stand up about the camp, tracing a zig-zag rim against -the sky. The camp lies in the hollow, as in the bottom of a cup. It -clambers about the lower slopes, following the whim of the latest -comer. The hotel boasts a roof and walls of iron, that much boasts the -store, that much the manager's house. The staff barracks and the mine -offices equally are favoured. Wooden piles lift the buildings high from -the ground. Elsewhere stand weather-worn tents; and sometimes a bough -shed, thatched with gum-leaves, serves its architect as parlour.</p> - -<p>Towering over all rise the poppet-heads and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> bins of the mine. Goats -take a siesta beneath the scrubby trees, explore the rubbish heaps, -and clamber about the dump; fowls of more breeds than Joseph's coat -knew colours, employ themselves in the dusty places, or keep the shade -of the broken rocks. Here and there an optimist nurses a garden, and -finds reward in a few drooping vegetables. Goats and fowls peer through -the netting with evil in their hearts. This is Surprise Valley to the -stranger eye.</p> - -<p>Three score burnt men and a handful of shabby women here find living. -They dig for the green copper hidden jealously in the bosom of the -hills. From distant parts they have drifted, they stay awhile; again -they drift; but the camp endures, and the wilderness is powerless -to harm it. Forward and backward from the railroad, a hundred miles -away, the weekly coach crawls on its journey, keeping open the track -to civilization, and bringing such news and comforts as that world -has leisure to send. The mail bags disgorge stale papers; the driver -delivers stale news. Round and round turns the wheel of affairs. A -whistle begins the day for this community: a whistle ends it. Deep in -the earth the men labor with hammer and drill. Overhead the women bend -at their pots and pans, and peg the weekly washings under cloudless -skies. The children, untaught, unchecked,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> patter among the stones and -tussocks, and send abroad their cries. Summer follows winter. The suns -climb up; in season the rains roar down; the frost comes in its turn. -But the men of Surprise Valley dig always in the bowels of the hills, -and the women busy themselves about their doors.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER II</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">How They Pass the Evening at Surprise.</span></span></h2> - -<p>The last week of October was ending. At Surprise seven red-hot days -had crowded after one another; six breathless nights had brought -men and women gasping to their doors. The seventh evening had seen, -an hour since, the moon come up, white, round and full, behind the -Conical Hill; and with the moon arrived a flagging breeze—not cold, -not even cool, but with life left to turn the narrow gum-leaves, to -move the tent walls and the hessian blinds on the verandahs of the -iron houses. The moon had climbed the hilltop an hour since, and now -was some distance in the sky. Falling with a broad white light over -the ranges, and no doubt upon the plain beyond, it found a way to -the valley holding the stifled camp. It picked out the iron roofs, -and discovered the trees, to make of their leaves bunches of silver -fingers: it counted the tents straggling down the distance, and on the -journey wove many patterns of light and shade. The stones in the bed -of the dry creek<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> shone with polished faces. The white ball in the sky -numbered the panels of the yard, where the buggy horses—two greys, two -bays—stood reflecting on their fate; and it numbered the crinkles in -the stable roof.</p> - -<p>The breeze had moved several times down the valley, and as often as it -passed the people of Surprise turned gratefully in their seats. Mr. -Robson, shift-boss, found heart to swear appreciation and light a pipe; -Mrs. Boulder, brisk and brawny, reached from her chair to slap the -youngest child; and Mr. Horrington, general agent—unappreciated cousin -of Sir James Horrington, Bart., of Such-and-such Hall, England—pledged -again his lost relatives in whisky and a dash of water. The members of -the staff, telling smoking-room stories from their long chairs outside -the mess-room, re-settled for something newer and choicer.</p> - -<p>Two sounds were repeated, and helped to make the stillness live. They -were the stamp of horses near the creek, and the cornet of Mr. Wells, -storeman. The cornet player was feeling the way, with poor luck but an -honest persistence, through the pitfalls and crooked ways of "The Death -of Nelson." He had reached the thirteenth verse. The thirteenth verse -was the unlucky verse: unlucky for him, because he broke down, unlucky -for his listeners, because he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> repeated it. The notes fell slowly, -uncertainly, mournfully upon the night. As the fourteenth verse began, -Mr. Neville, manager of Surprise, swore with feeling.</p> - -<p>The old man of Surprise sat in the recess of his verandah, on a -full-length wicker chair, both legs at easiest angle, heavy walking -stick at hand, a glass at his elbow, a pipe in his clutch. The hessian -blinds, nailed to the woodwork, threw the place into gloom, unless -crevices let in a beam of the moon. Old Neville sat back in the -half-dark, a man of small and tough make, covered from collar to ankles -in white duck, with brown, wrinkled face, bristling grey moustache, -shaggy white eyebrows, and an aggressive manner. He was seventy; but -he was to be reckoned with still. Behind him, two canvas waterbags -hung midway from the roof, and the single small table, with the whisky -bottle and the box of matches on it, he had taken for himself. He put -out bony fingers for the matches.</p> - -<p>"Damn that wretched fellow! I'll hunt him off the place to-morrow."</p> - -<p>A girl and two men were his company. The girl sat between the men, and -the three people leaned back in canvas chairs. The nearest man, who was -dressed in riding clothes, was young—no more than thirty-five. He was -tall, and of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> a wiry make, and his skin was tanned. His face was clean -shaven, with a trace of temper in it, while he had the manner of one -well able to take care of himself. He gave his attention to a pipe. He -was known through all that country as James Power of Kaloona Station.</p> - -<p>The girl was dressed in white. She was not thirty years old, but the -climate had not spared her. She was not tall, she was rather slight, -and her face challenged no second glance; but he who looked closely -might find thought behind her eyes, and humour in her mouth. The -carriage of her head showed courage. Here was a girl with thoughts to -think and with dreams to dream. A girl with a stout heart, who would -be ready to drink deeply from the cups of joy and sorrow: a mate worth -winning. Maud Neville was her name, and Neville of Surprise was her -father. Just now, with both hands, she marked the fall of the cornet -notes which continued their troubled passage.</p> - -<p>The other man smoked a cigar in heavy content. He was growing -middle-aged and stout. He breathed with deep breaths, but the sultry -night excused him. A dark moustache covered his mouth. His face was -filling with flesh; and his eyes were cold though rather wise. Just now -he was well pleased with the world. He was John King, accountant of -Surprise. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> - -<p>The girl spoke. Her voice was full of lights and shades.</p> - -<p>"Don't always be growling at Wells, father. He maddened me once; but -I have accepted him long ago. He will learn something else soon. The -cornet is new. He got it two or three coaches ago. Mr. King, do you -remember the concertina last summer? The heat unstuck it or something. -That's why he sent for the cornet. One day I asked him why he was so -persistent, and he put his hands on his chest very grandly like this -and said—'Miss Neville, it is in here. It must come out.'"</p> - -<p>The old man screwed up his face. "He can tell the flies that to-morrow -when he takes the track."</p> - -<p>King took the cigar from his mouth very deliberately.</p> - -<p>"Maybe we listen to more than a poor storeman—a lover, a poet rather. -Who can say? A lover whose beloved has wandered afar: a poet born -tongueless, whose breast must break with fullness. Then what do our -ears matter, while he finds relief?"</p> - -<p>Power laughed. "You're an amusing idiot, King." But the old man snorted.</p> - -<p>"I've something else to even up with besides that trumpet. Every man -jack on the place is doing what he likes with the water tanks these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -last two months. They're three part done. There'll be a drought here -'fore the rains come, sure as I sit here, there will. I believe half -the women wash their brats in it. They've got the devil's impidence. I -watched Wells to-day carry half-a-dozen kerosene tins for Mrs. Simpson -and Mrs. Boulder. I'd have seen he knew about it, if I'd been nearer. -I'll fix the lot of 'em up yet. I'll settle them quick."</p> - -<p>"You'll have to ration them," Power said.</p> - -<p>"Ration them! I'll ration them till their tongues hang out. They can go -to the pub for a drink."</p> - -<p>A chair creaked in the dark, grunts followed the creak, and Neville got -to his feet. He steadied himself with his stick, and started towards -the door into the house. On the threshold he paused and looked round.</p> - -<p>"Ye know Gregory, the gouger from Mount Milton way? He was in at the -store this afternoon. Says he's struck a first class copper show on the -river. He was blowing hard about it there, and had specimens with him. -He was after gettin' a lot of tucker on account; but I settled that. I -may be wrong, huh, huh! but I reckon he wasn't long from the pub."</p> - -<p>"Where's his show?" King asked.</p> - -<p>"On Pelican Pool. He'll get drowned when the rains come." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He can have only just struck it. Nobody was on the hole a fortnight -back," Power answered.</p> - -<p>"Is the show any good?" asked King.</p> - -<p>"Bah! Of course not."</p> - -<p>"How do you know?" Maud cried.</p> - -<p>"Of course it'll be no good."</p> - -<p>"You don't know anything about it."</p> - -<p>King put his cigar in his mouth, and it grew red in the dark. He took -it away again. "Isn't Gregory the fellow with the pretty daughter?"</p> - -<p>The old man began to chuckle. "Huh, huh! I've heard more talk of -Gregory's daughter these last two weeks than of his copper show. If -the show is as good as the gal, his fortune is made. She's a fetching -little hussy." He wagged his head.</p> - -<p>"You've seen her?" questioned Power.</p> - -<p>"Three days back. I was down in the buggy looking at the pipe line. I -told Maud about her. She's something in King's way. I hear he never -misses anything."</p> - -<p>King shrugged his shoulders. "My name gone, you may send me along the -pipe line as soon as you like."</p> - -<p>"Ye'll have to look sharp. Half the fellers on the lease know about -her." The old man chuckled himself into the house.</p> - -<p>"I want to see her," Maud cried. "Her fame has gone all over these -parts. They say she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> turned everyone's head Mount Milton way. Why are -you so behindhand, Mr. King?"</p> - -<p>"She has only been once to the store, and ill-luck kept me wrestling -with accounts. Afterwards I heard she had passed through like some -Royal Presence, moving so greatly every man under fifty that he gave up -work for the afternoon."</p> - -<p>"And," said Power, "my Mrs. Elliott's story is that Mick O'Neill, our -head man, has lost his head over her."</p> - -<p>King bowed reverently in the dark. "She must be wonderful—a poem of -golden words, a melody of diamond notes. She must be fit to rank with -those dead women generations of men have sung about. The Helen of -Homer: Deirdre, princess of Ulster, whom four kings fought over, and -for love of whom three brothers slew themselves: PoppƦa, mistress of -Nero, for whose bath five hundred asses let down their milk: a Ninon -de l'Enclos, who rode abroad on early autumn mornings, while the poor -brutal peasants covered themselves, believing an angel passed by. When -I go down the pipe line, I shall take my fly-veil with me that my sight -may not be destroyed."</p> - -<p>"You may meet me there, with or without a veil," said Power.</p> - -<p>"Don't count yet on going, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>Mr.-my-friend-Power," Maud Neville said. "I -must look myself first."</p> - -<p>"And now," said King, leaning heavily forward in his chair which -creaked out loud, "I think it becomes me to salute such loveliness." He -stretched a hand for the whisky and poured out a noble peg.</p> - -<p>A bellow came from inside. "Power!"</p> - -<p>"Hullo!"</p> - -<p>"I want ye!"</p> - -<p>Power got up. "I'll see what is wanted. But first our pledge."</p> - -<p>The steps of Power died away, and King and Maud Neville were left -alone. Nelson had died at last, and now the cornet asked, "Alice, -where art thou?" One or two crickets beneath the house accompanied it. -Presently King must have moved his chair, because there was a sudden -creak.</p> - -<p>"I am going to write a treatise on love to aid the beginner."</p> - -<p>"How many volumes?"</p> - -<p>King shook his head. "You mock me. You think because my heart is widely -proportioned, and because there are several little dead affairs stacked -neatly on upper shelves, that each of those visitors cost nothing to -admit, and that now one cannot be told from another. You are mistaken." -Again he shook his head. "Each of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> those visitors left its footprints -on the threshold, and memory can still find them in the dustiest, most -forgotten corners. No, hide your smiles."</p> - -<p>"Go on, you stupid, I love listening to you."</p> - -<p>"Love comes always in the same way, whether it be the great affair -that tramples ruthless and leaves us crushed on the road, or whether -it arrives with hammer and chisel, playfully to knock off a corner of -the heart. For love flows forward in a ripple of waters over which pass -sweetest breezes. So slowly it moves, so gently it rises, that one is -lost ere the danger be discovered. In the first sprays that dash the -drowner's mouth lie its best, its purest."</p> - -<p>"And after?"</p> - -<p>"Alas! the tide brings refreshment with it, and lovers wake hungry, and -what had seemed two shafts from heaven become a woman's eyes. And so -the descent to earth is trod again in steps of kisses." He held out his -arm. "Look at the moon slung there, a great silver platter! How many -thousands of us have cried out for it? Yet it is only a barren mountain -region, scarred and ugly. But we never learn this, because we do not -draw near. Love is a mirage. Love is the dancing of the marsh lights. -Therefore pursue, but do not draw near. For once you touch the shining -thing its glamour shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> depart, and as the millstone of satiation it -shall hang about your neck."</p> - -<p>"But I understand you never practise your preaching."</p> - -<p>"I am too eager in pursuit. I blunder on the shining thing, and then—" -He shrugged his shoulders with infinite regret.</p> - -<p>Maud Neville joined her hands behind her head. She frowned the least -little bit. She spoke in a hurry.</p> - -<p>"No, that's not love. That's anything you like; but it isn't love. Love -is quite a different thing. Listen to me. Love is the eye that takes -no sleep, the foot that knows no stony road, the heart that bleeds and -feels no wound, the brain that always understands."</p> - -<p>"I see," King said.</p> - -<p>A second time they had nothing to say. As they sat thus, the breeze -journeyed again down the valley. It stirred the hessian blinds against -the fly-proof netting. It came through the open doorway at the verandah -end, and moved the water-bags behind Neville's empty chair. The two -opened their arms to it. It must have brought charity to the heart of -Mr. Wells, for he packed up his cornet for the night: and it may have -touched King's tongue with eloquence. Soon it had gone by. But King got -up and walked to the doorway to throw away his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> dead cigar. He stood -there some while looking over the country, and the moonbeams revealed -him a stout man, past first youth. Maud Neville fell to examining him. -Now the cornet no more made plaint, complete silence waited on the -night. Something moved her to break the spell.</p> - -<p>"How still it is," she said. "How empty!"</p> - -<p>The man at the doorway did not turn round; but he looked out into the -open as though proving her words. "Still?" he said. His tongue strings -were loosened. "Empty?" He pointed his hand. "Up there, this way, that -way, hear the roar of worlds rolling through the crowded ways of space. -Hear the bellowings of the furnaces, the shrieks of passage, the crash -of collision! Worlds are growing fiery there, worlds are growing cold. -Worlds are dying there. Worlds are finding new birth. The Angel of Life -and his assistant the Angel of Death take no rest.</p> - -<p>"Lift up your veil, O Night, for we would look in.</p> - -<p>"Yes, joy is here, and sorrow is here; hunger is here and repletion is -here; sin is here and righteousness here: hope and despair, love and -hate, anger and forgiveness—all are here.</p> - -<p>"The young lion roars in his triumph, and the old toothless lion has -missed his kill. The nightingale sings from the cypress; and the mouse -is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> squeaking where the owl swooped down. In a hundred jungles the -beast of prey fills himself; and in haunts of men the ravenous are -abroad also. The lover cries that the couch is waiting, and in the -shadow lurks the assassin. Where men are dying, mothers stand weeping; -and mothers are writhing where men are being born. The student, pale -with learning, trims his lamp and asks for the night to continue; -and the tempest-torn mariner is praying for the dawn. The youngster -smiles at his rosy dreams; and round his father breaks the shock of -battle. The rich man toys with his heaped meats: and to a fireless -garret has crept the pauper. The statesman toils in his chamber; and -the well-dined burgher turns in his sleep. Age pulls the coverlet over -a bony breast; and in the halls of vice youth spends its strength. -In solitude the shepherd guards his flock; and in retreat no less -lonely the miser counts his gold. And hairs are greying, and eyes are -dimming, and babes are crowing. And voices are laughing, and voices are -scolding, and voices are sobbing. How empty the night is? How still the -night is? No! How crowded! How deafening!"</p> - -<p>King came to a full stop. His hand fell to his side. He did not turn -round, and presently he lit another cigar with irritating calm. All -the while, the girl had not stirred in her chair. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> last King moved -from the doorway, and at the same time Neville sounded his stick in the -house. He appeared on the verandah with Power behind. The old man was -chuckling to himself and holding out some keys.</p> - -<p>"Huh, huh! I may be wrong; but I think I'll settle that little crowd. -See these? For the tanks. See 'em? I'll be along and fix them up right -away. To-morrow you can watch them line up with their tongues out. Old -Horrington can live on whisky for a while. It's done him before to-day. -Mrs. Johnson can wash in last week's water. It'll make good soup for -the baby. He, he! Huh, huh, huh!"</p> - -<p>"What are you going to do, Father?"</p> - -<p>"Lock the tanks, of course. What d'ye think I mean to do? Drink 'em -dry?"</p> - -<p>"You can't do that."</p> - -<p>"Can't? I may be wrong, but I reckon I can." He wagged his head; and -next gripped his stick and began to stamp down the verandah, but half -way brought up short with a second nod. "Moon or no moon," he said, "I -shall do better with a lantern where I'm going." He went indoors again.</p> - -<p>At the same time King pulled out a watch. "I'll get back."</p> - -<p>Maud from her chair called out to him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> "Already, Mr. King? It's not -late. Are you tired of us?"</p> - -<p>"The night is getting cool, and I haven't slept for a week."</p> - -<p>Power looked at the moon. "What's it? Ten?"</p> - -<p>"Twenty to. We may get a change out of this."</p> - -<p>"I don't think so," Power said.</p> - -<p>"At least we'll hope next week is better," Maud cried. "Let's wish for -a storm."</p> - -<p>"And after it the flying ants?"</p> - -<p>"Oh bother them!" Maud said. "Where's the romance of the wilderness?"</p> - -<p>King answered her. "Romance is somewhere just out of sight. Some day I -shall sit in a cooler country, having forgotten the taste of heat and -flies, and I shall start sighing for the old romantic days at Surprise. -And now for a nightcap before bed."</p> - -<p>"Mr. King, you are breaking rules."</p> - -<p>"But this is Surprise and we are in the last week of October. Much can -be forgiven when you live at Surprise during the last week of October."</p> - -<p>"The rule is three, and that makes number five."</p> - -<p>"Alas!"</p> - -<p>"Well, never again." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> - -<p>King put down his empty glass. "Good night.</p> - -<p>"Good night."</p> - -<p>He went through the doorway into the open and down the steps. His -footfalls crunched on the bed of the dry creek. The return of Neville -overwhelmed them. The old man held a lighted lantern, and fumbled -impatiently at the wick. "Where's King?" he demanded, lifting shaggy -eyebrows over the top.</p> - -<p>"Gone home a moment ago," Maud said.</p> - -<p>"Er! I knew as much. He knows what he's about. I meant him to come with -me."</p> - -<p>"He's good company," Power said, settling again in the old seat.</p> - -<p>"I love him," Maud said. "One moment he makes me laugh and the next -he makes me think. I don't know yet whether he is a wise man or a -mountebank."</p> - -<p>"Where does he come from?" Power asked. "You said he was a solicitor, -didn't you?"</p> - -<p>The old man snapped down the glass of the hurricane lamp.</p> - -<p>"I heard tell he was a solicitor somewhere and got kicked out. As soon -as he touches money he can't go straight. He would sell his mother up. -Huh, huh! He's a gentleman to walk shy of while you've a few pounds to -spare. Go to him for a goat, and he'll sell you one of mine. He has -done business over half the fowls on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> lease, though he never owned -a feather. He, he! I can't help respecting his abilities. He's got a -finger in most copper shows within fifty miles. The silly coves get him -to draw up their agreements, and he takes care that his name comes in -somewhere or other." Neville chuckled himself to the end of his tale, -then said, "You had better be away, Power. I'm going to bed when I get -back." He went through the door.</p> - -<p>"Take care!" Maud called out.</p> - -<p>"Er?"</p> - -<p>"Take care."</p> - -<p>A growl was her thanks. In course of time the old man had scrambled -down the steps and across the creek.</p> - -<p>"So much for our friend, John King," said Power.</p> - -<p>At Surprise Valley the rule is early to bed. First chop the wood and -milk the goats. Then soothe or slap the baby to sleep. After tea, -a seat in the doorway and a smoke. After a smoke, an exchange of -maledictions on the weather. The lamps in the tents begin to go out by -nine o'clock. The frustrated moths and flying ants betake themselves -elsewhere, and the mosquito sings a solo requiem in the dark. On cool -nights and nights of breezes, the people of Surprise put out lights at -even an earlier hour, for sleep is likely to prove kinder mistress.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -To-night already three parts of Surprise were sleeping. To be true, -Mr. Wells was thinking of a last pipe; and Mr. Horrington, whisky -bottle at elbow, was cogitating a nightcap. Also, a light burned yet in -the latest rigged tent. Mr. Pericles Smith—travelling schoolmaster, -arrived here on his rounds—after chopping the firewood, hunting the -goats away, putting the kettle off the boil, and performing sundry -other exercises, was snatching a few moments with the help of a candle -at his monumental work on the aboriginal languages of Australia. -Nowhere else lights pierced the walls. The moon fell over high land -and low land, upon house and tent, and steeped in romance the dreary -prospects of the day. The Man in the Moon looked down on a fairy city.</p> - -<p class="center">. . . . . . .</p> - -<p>I have brought you now to the beginning of my chronicle: I have laid -the stage and you are left with the chief players. The story is written -in a thumbed volume of the Book of Life, and it is time to lift down -the tome from its shelf. Look for no tremendous tale, for at Surprise -the day wags through its journey as elsewhere—sorrow tastes as bitter -here, pleasure drinks as sweetly, and the human heart beats time to -old, old tunes. Look for no great story then, for I have it not to -tell—you are to find two lovers,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> you are to have the history of their -loves, and learn how one was rude apprentice to the trade, and what -apprenticeship had to teach him.</p> - -<p class="center">. . . . . . .</p> - -<p>The man and woman on the verandah had tumbled into their own thoughts. -But presently Power rose in his seat, and moved it beside Maud Neville. -He sat down again—he leaned forward and raised one of her hands. -Fingers closed on his own. "Kiss me, Maud," he said, in no more than a -whisper.</p> - -<p>He bent close over the girl. His face approached hers until he and she -saw each other clearly in the dark. They kissed with much passion. As -Maud released him, she touched his forehead with her lips.</p> - -<p>"I thought we should never be left alone. I was getting disgusted and -going home. I came with a lot to tell you. I was full of ideas, but you -were bent on avoiding me."</p> - -<p>"Poor fellow! As bad as that? You should have come earlier. I couldn't -get up and leave the others, you silly. Mr. King doesn't come very -often. What have you to say so important?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe I'm not telling it now."</p> - -<p>He was laughed at for his pains. "You want coaxing? Is that what's the -matter?"</p> - -<p>"This is it then. I can't wait longer. We have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> been engaged long -enough. I want you to marry me—soon I mean, this month or next. -Everything is ready over there. We'll choose a date to-night."</p> - -<p>"And you are ready for Father?"</p> - -<p>"He can't refuse again. We've waited so long."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps."</p> - -<p>"Then desperation will give me courage. Now for the promise."</p> - -<p>"I said nothing about a promise. You must think I am awfully fond of -you."</p> - -<p>Power leaned forward again. Their faces came close together. Her eyes -were wide open and looked straight into his. Fondness appeared in them, -deep as the sea. Power began again to speak.</p> - -<p>"It has become so lonely over there. I think about you all day long. -The house has grown miserable. It has turned to a graveyard. If you -appeared there, things would become what they were. You must marry me -soon. I have been too patient."</p> - -<p>He stooped and, in place of speech, he began to kiss her hair, her -face, her hands. Presently she put an arm about his neck, and kept him -willing prisoner. "What about your promise?" he said once more. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> - -<p>She had not done with coquetry. "What makes you think I am so fond of -you?"</p> - -<p>"And don't you like me a little bit? A little bit?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps a little bit." She put both arms about his neck. "My good -friend, you are everything in the world to me. My silly life begins and -ends in you. This great love of mine has quite eaten me up. Why, what -would I do without you. You came as a brand to a cold hearth and set it -aflame. Something in my heart sings now all day long."</p> - -<p>Passion came over them as a surge of the sea, as a storm of wind. They -bent close to each other, thinking no thought. Their breaths mingled. -Their hearts marked one time.</p> - -<p>At last she released her prisoner. Her eyes were shining in the dark. -She began to speak in a low, eager voice. She might have been a -messenger bringing glad tidings.</p> - -<p>"You will never understand what this love has meant to me. You and -I—we are different metals refining in the same furnace, and the fire -does not treat us alike. My life at last has become easy to live. It -is a simple and a grand thing. Think of Dingo Gap or Pelican Pool -without sun or flies. Wouldn't they be wonderful places? Well, I find -life changed as much as that. The little happenings no more have power<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -to annoy. My eyes are strong to see straight ahead. In all matters I -am undisturbed. This love of mine is a holy thing. It will brook no -meanness. It will stoop to no crooked ways. Something cries out in my -heart to grow and grow. I would bring you a wide-open mind. I would -offer you a body as beautiful as that girl we talked of half-an-hour -ago."</p> - -<p>She began again. "And now, my good friend—yes, you who look at me so -fondly—I am going to hurt you a little bit. I am going to tell you you -have brought me my moments of sorrow. For a long time now I have known -that your love and my love are of different kinds. Bad hours arrived -for me once when an evil spirit whispered that you did not understand -me, and therefore you could not truly love me. The whisperer said -Nature demanded you should go hungering after a woman, and there was no -choice but me. The whisperer said until you knew me, and demanded me -because of your new knowledge, that my affections were anchored in the -sands.</p> - -<p>"But I have pushed aside the whisperer. I love you, and that is all -that matters. For love knows nothing of hunger and unrest, of hope -grown old and other miseries. Love is the clear light, and those the -winds that wrestle for it, that are not of it and can never hurt it. -But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> you will not test my strength? Answer me. You will not test it?"</p> - -<p>"No, my girl. But your words could be kinder. I have no quick tongue -like yours to tell my tale. I know this, that I am weary of waiting for -you. Don't let us waste more of life. We have the whole world to see, -and when we have grown tired, we shall come back here. The old home I -am so sick of will grow beautiful under your care. I shall ride away in -the morning, knowing evening will find you waiting for me——"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes, I shall be waiting for you, and you will arrive hot and -tired, and you will say 'I won't eat anything.' But I shall coax you. -And later on we shall sit together in the light of this same old moon, -which will have travelled round a few times more, and will have become -a little paler with watching. And we shall talk about olden days. And -then we shall begin to grow old together, and I shall count your first -grey hairs and—why, Jim, you are laughing at me!"</p> - -<p>"Am I? Then give me my promise, for I must go home."</p> - -<p>"What am I to say, Jim? You know I want the marriage as much as you -do. But father is an old man, and there is nobody but me to look after -him. He wouldn't think of giving up the mine to live with us. If you -like, we can ask<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> him again to-night. Then if he says no, I shall stay -with him a little longer, and at last we must tell him it is our turn -to choose. That's fair, Jim, isn't it? No, don't look sulky. I am quite -right."</p> - -<p>"You won't always put it off like this? I am growing bad-tempered over -there."</p> - -<p>"You silly boy, you are only a few miles away. We see each other every -week. But we may catch father in a soft moment. We must find him after -he has locked the tanks. He'll be in such a good humour at the thought -of a fight to-morrow, that he may say yes. Let's find him now. Go away, -stupid, I want to get up."</p> - -<p>Maud rose to her feet, shook out her dress, and pushed her hair out -with her fingers. She kissed Power for the last time, and they went -down the steps into the moonlight. She ran ahead, taking little heed -of her footing. The stones in the creek were thick and rough, and she -trod them with quick feet while Power crunched behind. The stable was -not far away, and they followed the fence towards it. The horses stood -together with drooped heads at the lower end of the yard. All this -quarter of the camp was picked out plainly in the moonlight.</p> - -<p>A figure moved about the stable. It was Neville back from his rounds. -Maud nodded her head in his direction. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There's father waiting for us," she said. "Now Mr.-my-friend-Jim, are -you feeling as brave as you were?"</p> - -<p>"You must look after me."</p> - -<p>"Certainly not. I never pretended to be brave."</p> - -<p>"I shall find courage somehow."</p> - -<p>Old Neville's voice arrived. "Be smart ye two. You've been an awful -time. I expected ye gone long ago, Power. That fool groom has jammed -the door so as I can't get in. I'll let him hear about it to-morrow. -See if you can do anything. He, he! ye'll have to do something, or -ye'll go bareback home. What did ye want to come along for, Maud? Can't -you let him alone for a minute? That's the way to sicken a man of ye." -All three met outside the stable door. "D'ye see what I mean?" Neville -said.</p> - -<p>Power moved the door in course of time. The old man went in first with -the lantern. "Take the saddle and hurry up. I want to get to bed."</p> - -<p>Power carried the saddle to the fence. Maud had taken the bridle and -had gone in search of the horse which knew her and would stand. In a -little while she was leading it back. Power had taken his opportunity.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Neville, Maud and I talked things over to-night, and we want to -get married. You won't mind, I hope?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> - -<p>The old man was rooting with his stick in a corner of the stable. "Er?" -he said, looking up.</p> - -<p>"We're thinking of getting married," Power said again louder.</p> - -<p>"Have you still that in your heads? I told ye 'No' before. Here, come -here. Look at that fellow! I'll fire him off the lease before he's any -older. Look at him! Thrown it all in a corner. No, ye must wait. Ye're -both young, and I'm an old man. Goodness! look here! Maud's an annoying -girl, but I'd be put out without her. Here's the mare. Come outside -with ye. Maud, I hear you're on again about gettin' married. I won't -have it. Ye've plenty of time for that sort of thing."</p> - -<p>"You're not fair, father. You're not a bit fair. You won't listen to -reason. You never discuss anything. I'm not a child still. When will -you realize that?"</p> - -<p>The old man lifted his shaggy eyebrows over the lantern. He seemed -rather surprised. "Listen to reason! And you come to me when everyone -is in bed. Ye call that reason! It's just like you. Bah!"</p> - -<p>"Maud is right, Mr. Neville. You haven't been fair about this." Power's -temper was never hard to discover, and Maud frowned him quiet. The old -man looked at the ground, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> scratched his head a moment or two and -wagged it.</p> - -<p>"I suppose, Power, ye'll be round in a day or two?"</p> - -<p>"I'm bringing cattle through the end of this week."</p> - -<p>"I'll talk about it then. Now be away with you. Come home, Maud."</p> - -<p>The old man of Surprise blew out the lantern and began the journey to -the house. Maud in meek mood followed him.</p> - -<p>"Good night, Jim," were her last words.</p> - -<p>"Good night," Power called back.</p> - -<p>Power saddled the mare, and let down the slip-rail of the yard. His -whip was coiled on his arm. In a moment he was mounted and had turned -towards home.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER III</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">Pelican Pool</span></span></h2> - -<p>Kaloona Homestead lies distant from Surprise fifteen Queensland miles, -and the traveller by that road learns a Queensland mile is a mile and -anything you wish beyond. The red track runs all the way—over outcrops -of rock, across grassy levels and through dry creek beds, nearly to the -gateway of the homestead. Kaloona Homestead stands among timber on one -of the big holes of the river.</p> - -<p>All the traffic of the neighbourhood takes this direction, and keeps -safe the roadway from the teeth of the waiting bush. Once a week the -mine buggy journeys to outlying shafts. Out of the distance crawl a -pair of horses, an ancient four-wheeled carriage, two men seated up -there in collarless shirts and khaki trousers, a swinging waterbottle -and a following of dust. Once a month Mr. Carroll, timekeeper, armed -with revolver and sustained with thoughts of a peg at the farther end, -bumps along in the back seat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> of the buggy with the pay for the smaller -mines. Along this path the horse-driver bullies a groaning load to the -mine furnaces, and wins the plain by ready tongue and a generous hand. -His dogs shuffle in the shade of the waggon. The copper gougers come -in from labours in the far places, and follow the red way to store and -hotel; and the kangaroo shooter, astride his shabby beast, arrives -with empty provision bags from lonely hunting grounds. But commonly -you travel all day under a greedy sun, and meet none of these things. -The plain rolls away, and no wayfarer appears, unless there leap up a -kangaroo startled in his bed chamber.</p> - -<p>Power took the homeward road with never a thought to its emptiness. -He was no apprentice to the bush. He could read the signs of the way, -be the time day or night. Now a moon was in the middle of the sky, -the path was well trodden, a fair mount carried him, and the night -cooled—the journey would be done in the turning of his thoughts. He -rode with loose rein, idle spur, and seat easy in the saddle. Yet a -clever horse might not have got the better of him.</p> - -<p>The mare carried him at a fast walk, asking neither check nor spur. -Single tents, tents in twos and threes, and rickety lean-tos rose up -among the gullies on both hands, and quickly a score of them had fallen -behind. In none burned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> a light, and no greeting arrived other than the -quick bark of curs. A bend of the road and the base of the hill cut off -the camp. From now forward the journey would prove a lonely business. -The creak of a saddle and the brief pad of hoofs in the dust were to be -the song of voyage.</p> - -<p>Afoot or on horseback, Power was a wide-awake man. He saw most of what -was worth seeing. He could see, realize and do on the instant. But he -had his moments of reflection. He was aware of the tents, the lean-tos -and the rubbish on the ground. But he had fallen into thought before -going far on the way. Were he devout lover, now was the scene and now -the hour to delight in the virtues of his lady.</p> - -<p>He loosened his feet in the stirrups to the tips of his toes, and -lifted his hat from his head. A vague breeze moved across his cheek, -and he turned gratefully to it; but it was dead as soon as it was born. -Still, the night was cooling, and the plain was wide and free after the -verandah at Surprise. The moon had taken station in the middle of the -sky, frighting all but a few stars which gleamed wanly here and there. -She was a lamp to all that great red country—by day full of majesty, -now touched to beauty by her genius. The walk of the mare soothed him -strangely.</p> - -<p>Power was a man of fair learning and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>experience. He was a bushman -born, but the South had given him education of some width. He had had -a share of travel. He could remember other lands and fair cities. Men, -now forgotten, had rubbed shoulders with him; and one or two women had -passed in and out of his life with a few laughs and sighs. Seldom he -called them to mind. Maud Neville only had brought him to captivity. -Her brain was mate for his brain, her heart was mate for his heart: -there would be bonds to bind them when passion had passed away.</p> - -<p>His thoughts went back to her, where he had seen her last following -the old man towards the house. He found himself thinking very tenderly -of her. Soon now she would come across to brighten the old homestead, -and life would never be quite the same again. He must pull his habits -into shape. He must remember freedom would have to go in harness, and -the curb might chafe at first. He must be abroad at dawn and home by -nightfall, and give up this riding over the country as the humour took -him. The cattle camp must see him less, the hearth must see him more; -others could do the rough work, and they would do it as well as he.</p> - -<p>There came to mind the first time he had seen Maud Neville, a day -or two after the coach had brought her from the South. He had not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>discovered her charm in the beginning. He put a high price on beauty -always, and here was a girl but poorly favoured. But that she made -the old man's home bright there was no denying, and now he walked in -willing captivity. He loved her, and she loved him almost too well. She -read him to the last word, while her own face was covered with a veil -which he had not the skill to pluck aside. She had said a little while -ago that he had much to learn in the art of loving, and perhaps she had -spoken the truth. His affection only had his spare time, and was shabby -exchange for a spiritual love like her own. Yet she seemed content. -Well, she should teach him in the days to come, and she would find him -a ready student. Just now he was on the way home, and to-morrow was -bringing a long day with cattle. There were other things for a man to -do besides making love.</p> - -<p>He tumbled back to everyday matters when the mare whinnied loudly. He -looked about him. He found he had been carried into the plains. Behind, -and on the left hand, ranges filled the horizon; ahead ran the dark -belt of timber which followed the river. Power guessed at it rather -than saw it. Pelican Pool was four miles away in a straight line; but -the road bent in a little distance, and met the river several miles -lower down. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> - -<p>All at once Power grew alert. The sight of a riderless horse called for -more than a meander of thoughts. The animal stood a long way off in the -shadow of a small tree near the track. It was saddled, and the reins -hung to the ground. Power looked about the neighbourhood for the rider, -and quickly found him, spread out in the middle of the road. At once he -shook the mare into life and trotted forward. The horse under the tree -whinnied at their approach; but there was no movement from the form in -the path. At the last moment the mare took fright, and Power was hard -employed to bring her to reason. He jumped presently to the ground and -bent over the body. He found a heavy man in middle years lying on his -back, breathing with deep snores. It was a matter for proof if the -man were hurt; but there was no doubt of his drunkenness. A bottle of -whisky filled a pocket. The fellow's head was cut, and blood had dried -on it; but search discovered no other injury, and Power took him by the -shoulder and shook him—firmly at first, afterwards roughly. The snores -turned into chokes, the chokes became groans. Power tired of such a -tardy cure, and exchanged hand for foot. The fallen man opened his eyes.</p> - -<p>"Day, mate. Wot do you think you're doing to a cove?"</p> - -<p>"Are you all right?" Power said. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Right enough to stop a cove going through me pockets." The fellow -licked his lips. "It's flamin' hot, mate!"</p> - -<p>"Get up," said Power.</p> - -<p>"Wot's got you so blooming anxious?"</p> - -<p>"I found you on the road just now. There's the horse under the tree. -It's midnight. You'll have to hurry some to be anywhere by morning."</p> - -<p>"I'm stayin' here."</p> - -<p>"You'll perish when the sun gets up." There was a silence while they -looked at each other. Then the man swore, struggled a little and sat -up. "Have you far to go?" Power said.</p> - -<p>"Pelican Pool."</p> - -<p>"Are you Gregory?"</p> - -<p>"That's me when I'm home."</p> - -<p>Power lost patience. "Well, what the devil are you doing? Are you -coming or staying?"</p> - -<p>"You're a nice bloke to help a sick cove." Gregory came across the -whisky bottle. He dragged it from his pocket, and waved it in the -moonlight. "I reckon I've a thirst you couldn't buy; no, not fer -ten quid. Have one at the same time? No! I reckoned as much from a -long-faced coot like you!"</p> - -<p>"Get up," Power said, "and I'll give you a hand with the horse."</p> - -<p>The beast waited for Power to catch it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> Gregory had found his feet, -and stood in the middle of the path looking at the whisky bottle. -He proved very groggy; but recourse to the bottle put him in braver -spirit, and he fell to cursing Surprise and all that lies within its -gates.</p> - -<p>"Here you are," Power said. "Go steady. I'll leg you up."</p> - -<p>It took trouble and a pretty play of oaths to bring about the lifting -up. The horse stood like a rock. Gregory swore his leg was broken; but -he gained the saddle, and afterwards kept balance in a surprising way. -Power, in no good temper, turned things over, and decided to take him -to the Pool. It meant a journey longer by five miles—bad luck which -swearing wouldn't mend.</p> - -<p>"Come on," he said. "I'm going your way. Shake up that beast of yours. -I don't want to be all night."</p> - -<p>He turned the mare's head to Pelican Pool, and she started the journey, -walking fast. The other horse kept company at a jog-trot. Gregory began -a rough ride. But he held his attention to the whisky bottle, and had -spilled a big part of it before they were a mile on the way. The empty -bottle was thrown grandly to the ground. As time went by he turned very -friendly.</p> - -<p>"I'll be showing you something in a mile or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> two—my oath! yes—the -best copper show in the Gulf, or in Queensland for that matter. There's -a fortune there, I say. D'yer hear me? I'll be driving my buggy and -pair yet. I'll be buying more grog in a day than that cove at the pub -sells in a year. No more blanky shovelling for me, you make no error. -I'll have all the buyers in the country there 'fore the week's out. Old -Neville down at Surprise, he'll be on his knees prayin' me to sell it -him. 'Ear me?"</p> - -<p>"I hear you," Power said. And with the last bit of good temper left he -added, "Are you far down?"</p> - -<p>"Matter o' thirty foot, and ore all the way. I tell yer I'll be the -richest man this side of Brisbane. 'Ear wot I say?"</p> - -<p>With spells of talk and spells of silence, they made the rest of the -journey. Gregory was more master of himself on a horse than on the -ground, and at the hour's end the travelling was done. Where they -approached it the river ran in the rains with a two-mile span; but now -the bed was dry and filled with stones and sand. Many mean trees grew -in this country. Over stones and sand the riders passed, and under -trees bearing in their branches the rubbish of forgotten floods. As -they went on, the timber became dense and grew to a noble size; and -presently here and there among distant laced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> branches showed the -surface of Pelican Pool. The water was lit by the light of the moon. -The Pool was shrinking every day; but it still covered a mile of -country, and its breadth was a fair swimmer's journey.</p> - -<p>"Where's the camp?" Power said.</p> - -<p>"By the castor-oil bush."</p> - -<p>Thereupon they inclined to the right hand. Large reaches of the Pool -were now plainly to be seen—very fair they showed in the moonlight, -with weeds trailing about the water, and here and there a large white -lily a-bloom. Small fishes leaped in the shallows. Trees leaned -patiently over both banks, spreading knotted arms. Now the camp came -out of the trees. Two tents were rigged side by side; and not very -far off had been built a room of poles and hessian. About an open-air -fireplace were the ashes of the day's fire. A dog tied near the tents -uncurled at their coming, and fell to barking with great good will.</p> - -<p>"We're here," Gregory said. "The old woman must have turned in."</p> - -<p>"Better quiet the dog, then," Power answered. "Go steady there. I'll -see you down."</p> - -<p>He jumped to the ground and threw a stone at the dog, which dropped its -tail and stopped barking. He held Gregory's horse, and Gregory climbed -down. The man was fairly on his legs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> when a keen voice called from -one of the tents—"Is that you, boss? Boosed, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"There's a gen'leman here to see yer," Gregory shouted.</p> - -<p>"Wot?"</p> - -<p>"A gen'leman to see yer."</p> - -<p>"Aw, blast yer, come to bed an' don't wake me up."</p> - -<p>"I tell yer a gen'leman's here."</p> - -<p>"Can't yer shut it?"</p> - -<p>"Gen'leman. I say. Gen'leman."</p> - -<p>A pause followed on this. At last the voice from the tent cried—"Get -up, Moll, and see wot dad's after. I've not had a square sleep fer a -week."</p> - -<p>"Aw," said somebody in the second tent.</p> - -<p>But in that tent a person stirred. Gregory shouted again. "Be quick, -Moll. Light a lantern. The moon's no good to me in these durned trees."</p> - -<p>"Wait a minute, can't yer?"</p> - -<p>Power picked up the reins and remounted the mare. He had had his fill -of the affair, and was riding away. "You're right now," he said to -Gregory. "Good night." The gleam of a lantern appeared through the -canvas of the tent. "Good night," Power called out a second time. The -tent door was pushed aside, and a girl came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> into the open, holding a -lighted lantern above her head.</p> - -<p>Power pulled up his beast. The girl that stood there was scantily -dressed. Her hair fell down her back. She was very near him, and she -held the lantern that she might look him over; but the rays of light -fell all about her own head and shoulders. She stared at him, not a -whit disturbed at the sudden meeting.</p> - -<p>A moment had brought Power face to face with the great experience of -his life. The girl's beauty was beyond any imagining. He sat astride -the mare with dropped reins, staring at her.</p> - -<p>There, in a broken tent, in that forgotten place by the river, was one -of those women who have commanded the tears and prayers of men since -the world began to turn. The girl stood with the light of the lantern -falling about her, with that in the carriage of her head for which a -sage would forget his learning, with that in her eyes for which a saint -would forego his hope of Paradise, with that in her form for which a -poet would break the strings of his lyre. To look a moment on her was -to grow hungry, to look long on her was to banish peace.</p> - -<p>For that most cunning work of a great craftsman was a chalice holding -the poisoned potion of desire; that rich body was an altar whereon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -burned the fires of longing; that loveliness was doomed to linger as -midwife to men's tears. The spirit of all that is untamed made home in -that form, and beside it dwelt the spirit of all that shall not find -rest. And sight of that fairness brought taste of what man reaches for -and may not touch, of what man climbs after to fall from with bruised -knees.</p> - -<p>Her figure was quick and strong and supple; her hair lay about her head -as an aureole; her eyes were great and bright and deep; her feet were -slender and without blemish; her lips waited on the coming of some -supreme adventure.</p> - -<p>Quite suddenly Power found the girl speaking to him. She held her head -a little sideways and was looking over him.</p> - -<p>"Are you camping here, Mister?" she said.</p> - -<p>Power was startled out of his words. He sat up straight again. "No, -thanks. I came along with your father. I'm going on now."</p> - -<p>"We can give you a shake-down. It's no worry."</p> - -<p>"No, thanks. I must get home. I'm mustering to-morrow. Good night."</p> - -<p>"Good night, Mister."</p> - -<p>Power rode home at a foot pace. He thought of the girl all the way. Her -beauty had moved him more than anything he had known. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> - -<p>Midnight had chimed at Surprise, and the camp was asleep. The party -telling stories from their long chairs outside the staff quarters had -been broken up an hour since in a last "A-haw." Mr. Wells had forgotten -his cornet, and Mr. Horrington, rather muddled, had found his stretcher -and blown out the light. Houses, humpies and tents were in the dark. -But outside, the pallor of the moon fell, making filigree work of the -leaves on the trees, and staring coldly into the eyes of sleepy curs, -which blinked back from their beds in the grasses.</p> - -<p>The camp was asleep; but one person had stayed awake. The slight figure -of a woman sat at the top of the steps leading down from the verandah -of Neville's house. She sat crouched up, chin in hands, so still as to -be unearthly. She had sat thus with hardly a movement for a long time.</p> - -<p>Maud had said good night to her father on their return. The house had -seemed stifling. She went into her bedroom, drew the curtains wide from -the window so that the room was filled with light, opened the door -leading to the verandah, undressed, and went to bed. For more than an -hour she lay awake, counting the moonbeams on the wall, and listening -to the song of the mosquitoes. Then she gave up pretence. She sat up in -bed, slipped a wrap round<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> her, and crossed to the window on bare feet. -The night looked very charming outside, and soon she left the room, -crossed the bare boards lightly as a night spirit, and came to a little -balcony at the head of the steps leading down from the verandah. She -sat down on the top step, putting her naked feet on the one below.</p> - -<p>Yes, the night was charming out here—calm, empty and cooled by the -ghosts of little breezes, which fluttered an instant on her face and -fainted. There was pleasure in believing that she was the only one -awake. It was strange to look on this slumbering camp, bearding the -wilderness. She might have been a sentry watching that the hungry -bush did not devour it in the hours of night. This habit of keeping -the night watch had become a custom lately. The hour brought her more -profit than any other of the twenty-four. She was not hot and fagged; -she spoke the truth to herself; she could trust her judgments. The -calm watered her soul as a shower of rain, so that it swelled up, and -flowers broke from it. It was wonderful this growth of soul which -lately had been her portion, this serenity brought about by losing -herself in another. Sitting here, she told herself how thankful she -ought to be. Night was very kind, like some nurse who whispers her -child into sweet dreams. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> - -<p>This comprehension of life, this sureness of decision, had all grown up -in two years. This renouncing of oneself that another might profit was -the fountain from which gushed the purest waters at which the spirit -could drink. Yet how many drank at that fountain? Instead, they sat -at the windows of their houses in the streets of life, and remarked -indifferently the pale faces glued to the panes across the way. Unless -it happened that someone, sick with the bloodless silence, broke down -one of those bolted doors and pushed inside, the faces sat always -staring down the street, and the winds of desolation sweeping down the -chimney at even, scattered the flames upon the hearth, and starved the -watchers at their seats.</p> - -<p>A good love was a wonderful thing, like the fire of the refiner, -burning away the dross and leaving the pure metal. She had found it a -philosopher's stone, making life golden, giving her humour to laugh -when her father was tiresome, leaving her proof against the little -annoyances of the day. And better than that. No shortcomings in the -man she loved caused her misgiving now. He was easy to anger; a little -selfish sometimes; he was thoughtless often. But love had brought -understanding of him, and understanding meant forgiveness. She blessed -him as she thought of him on his way across<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> the plain, rejoicing that -she might serve him, thankful to him for the growth of spirit he had -caused in her.</p> - -<p>The little breezes sighed, fanned her a moment and passed on, a few -leaves turned on the trees; but she sat wrapped in the serenity of her -contemplation.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER IV</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">Kaloona Run</span></span></h2> - -<p>Power was abroad again before sunrise. Daylight moved over the country, -and he bathed, dressed, and pulled on his boots while butcher birds -called, and small finches bobbed and twittered in the bushes. As he -made an end of his task, the sun rose with menacing countenance. He -went outside, looked which way the breeze was, and next walked down the -track to the stable. He stopped at the door, threw it open, and cried -out loud, "Scandalous Jack! Hullo there!"</p> - -<p>At the back of the stable sounded a shuffling, and a small man, with -bristling beard and chipped yellow teeth set in a weather-worn face, -came out of the shadow, broom in hand. He stood in front of Power, and -put his hands together on top of the broom handle, spat carefully, -wiped his hairy mouth and shouted—"Marnin', Guv'nor. You're late."</p> - -<p>Power nodded. "I was late back from Surprise last night. I'll be away -after breakfast though. Did they get in the black horse?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Aye, they brought him in yesterday. He broke from the mob and showed -Mick his heels for two mile. He's first rate—a bit soft maybe—and -as cranky as ever. Ye must watch him or he'll pelt you this side o' -the flat. Aye, aye, ye may ride above a bit, but I'm telling yer." -Scandalous jerked his head.</p> - -<p>"I'll look at him."</p> - -<p>"Come on then."</p> - -<p>The two men disappeared into the stable. They came to a stall at the -end of a row, and there, tied to a ring in the manger, stood a grand -upstanding horse, black-coated from poll to coronet, which met their -coming with ears laid down and a white flash of teeth. It was an animal -to fill the eye of any man. It stood at sixteen hands to an inch or so -either way, ribbed up as a barrel, with great quarters and shoulders -sloped for speed. Its head was delicate for all its other proportions, -but there was that in the eye to tell a man to go about his business -warily. It showed a fair condition for a first day's stabling.</p> - -<p>"Yes, he's pretty right," Power said. He called out to the animal to -stand over, and went to its head, and he had looked it all about before -coming away.</p> - -<p>"Mick got off with his lot?" he said.</p> - -<p>Scandalous Jack went on speaking at a shout.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> "Aye, they were away be -four in the marnin'. Mick says he'll be mustered and have the mob at -Ten Mile midday. You're meeting him there, Guv'nor, for the cutting -out, I reckon?" Power nodded his head. "Mick says to-night's camp's -going up lower end of Pelican Pool." Scandalous looked very wise.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Mick's doin' good work there."</p> - -<p>"You're a fool, Scandalous."</p> - -<p>"I may be that. Some fools see more than wise men with spectacles. Have -ye heard about the gouger's girl there?"</p> - -<p>"What about her?"</p> - -<p>"Mick's silly as a snake on her. They say she's a daddy for looks."</p> - -<p>"I'm for breakfast," Power said. "Give this horse a look over. I'll -want him in an hour."</p> - -<p>Power went to breakfast. It was ready for him in a low bare room, -with fly netting on doors and windows. One door opened on a verandah, -where creepers waged war with the climate. Mrs. Elliott, the cook, and -Maggie, the maid of all other work, had found excuse to wait for him. -He knew the sign of old, and prepared to be discreet. He nodded his -good morning. "Breakfast in?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Maggie answered with great good will. "It's been getting cold this ten -minutes." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> - -<p>She was a handsome girl in the early morning, before the heat fagged -her. Mrs. Elliott, in middle life, ample and beaming, busied herself -briskly doing nothing, waiting to take the talk her way. The two women -attacked him together.</p> - -<p>"You must eat a good breakfast, Mr. Power. You've a long day before -you. You were very late abed, Mr. Power. You can't burn the candle at -both ends."</p> - -<p>"He's always late, Mrs. Elliott, when he comes back from Surprise." The -women shook their heads at each other. "And how was Miss Neville, Mr. -Power?"</p> - -<p>"She was very well, thanks. I must get a turkey or a wallaby. I've lost -my appetite for curry and steak half the week, and steak and curry the -other half."</p> - -<p>"And me so put about with the breakfast," exclaimed Mrs. Elliott, -twisting her apron. "All men are the same, ungrateful, every man jack -o' them. As soon look for gratitude from calves in a branding yard. -Now I suppose as Miss Neville she'll be turning over a date for the -wedding?"</p> - -<p>"You're learning too many secrets, Mrs. Elliott."</p> - -<p>"I know more than other folk already."</p> - -<p>"And that means?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Elliott twirled her apron once more and looked wise. "I'm hinting -nothing. I know where Mick O'Neill goes of a night."</p> - -<p>Power tipped himself back in the chair. "What are you cackling over -this morning? I hope your news is fresher than last?"</p> - -<p>"What's he running after that gel for?"</p> - -<p>"I've not heard of any girl."</p> - -<p>"He's a good fer nothing fellow, and the little hussy's no better."</p> - -<p>Maggie took up the tale. "They're all stupid on her 'cos she has a few -looks. That's all a man wants."</p> - -<p>"They're not all like that, Meg. Mr. Power here, he has more sense. -He took up with Miss Neville, and though she's as nice as may be, her -looks are nothing out of the bag."</p> - -<p>Power said something under his breath. He went on with his breakfast, -and the women despaired of him. In the end, out of a full mouth, he -said:—</p> - -<p>"You had better see Scandalous Jack. I'm too hungry for talking. He -wanted to tell me a lot this morning."</p> - -<p>"That nasty little man! I wouldn't demean myself with him. I told him -half an hour since I'd put a kettle o' water over him if he showed his -ugly face in at the door agen."</p> - -<p>The women withdrew routed. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> - -<p>In a little while Power followed them from the room. Standing in the -verandah, he lit a pipe. His swag had gone on in the cook's waggon, and -there remained only a few minutes' office work and he might get away. -The old willingness to be in the saddle took hold of him. His heart was -in the cattle work. The longest day made him more ready for the next. A -good horse, a whip to his hand, the bellow of a mob in his ears—these -things kept his heart evergreen.</p> - -<p>Morning had come, the birds had whistled him from bed, the sun had -climbed up; but the glamour of last night had not passed quite away. He -found himself—and little pleased he was at it—he found himself more -than once waking to the day's affairs from dreams of a girl holding up -a lantern at the doorway of a tent by a river.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Elliott had forgiven the churlishness of breakfast, and waited -with an ample lunch, secure from sun and flies. He promised to be back -some day or other, took up a dripping water-bag and his whip, and -passed to the stable. The black horse, saddled and waiting, fidgeted by -the door, and Scandalous Jack was taking aggressive charge.</p> - -<p>Scandalous thrust up his hard face to shout a warning.</p> - -<p>"He'll be shaking yer up, boss, I reckon. He fooled me half an hour -'fore I had the saddle on him." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Wants a day's work," Power said. He looked over the girths and secured -the water-bag. All he did was gentle and cautious. At the touch of -the wet canvas the black horse snorted, reared up and swung about. -Scandalous, very fond of his corns, retired in a hurry. With voice and -a firm handling Power kept the beast in check. He had completed matters -in a few minutes. Whereupon he coiled the whip on his arm, and drew -together the reins. He went about the mounting with cunning, and when -the moment of moments came, was in the saddle in one movement.</p> - -<p>The black horse squealed, and its head went down between its legs as -a stone from a catapult. It came high off the ground, all four feet -together, in a great bucking plunge which tried all Power's skill to -ride. The ground fell away from him and spun about, there came to his -ears a great straining of leather, and he knew a fierce shock as the -brute went to earth. Instinct set him leaning back, with legs fierce -gripping and toes down pointing. Horse and rider went up again, with -a heave tremendous beyond belief, and there was an instant when Power -stared down at emptiness. They were down and up in one breathing, and -away with great bounds that threw them across the yard. A heave, a -thud, a grunt and a swing brought them about, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> on the heels of it -they were going up into the air again. Down then and up into space -again, all four feet together, groaning with the effort, while the hot -dust streamed into Power's face. The rally was over in a dozen seconds, -and the horse stood heaving, and Power settled himself in the saddle.</p> - -<p>"Rough horse that!" Scandalous shouted from the fence.</p> - -<p>"He makes it too hot to last."</p> - -<p>"Don't take him cheap on that lay. He'll be rid of yer yet. He'll give -yer all you know one of these days, and I'm taking no odds on who's the -better."</p> - -<p>It had just turned eight o'clock when Power began the ride, but -already the sun was powerful, and the birds flagged at their songs. -He journeyed at walking pace, watching the horse carefully the first -few miles. Last traces of early cool were departing. A few threads of -gossamer shimmered among the spikes of the grasses, and blundering -hoofs tore them apart. A few feeding kangaroos sat at late breakfast. -The homestead moved behind the trees, and he and the beast he rode were -all that passed across the plain.</p> - -<p>He grew contented at once now he had made a beginning of the day's -work. As another man forgets his ill-humours in the counting-house,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> or -the library, or his mistress's bower, so Power turned for distraction -to his saddle and his whip. A bushman's heart was his birthright; -a bushman's cunning was the legacy of fiery summer afternoons on -horseback, and frosty winter dawns spent abroad. In the dreariest -page of Nature he found reading. His eye was quick to read the riddle -of the ways. The fall of a hill, the sweep of a dry creek bed, a few -patterings of passage in the dust—these answered most questions he -asked. In that country was no better judge of where to come up with a -mob of cattle, nor one, be it night or day, who rode straighter to a -point. He passed over the plain sitting easy in the saddle, pipe in -mouth, whip on arm, his head fallen forward, as a man sits asleep. But -his eyes peered abroad, and his brain was active. He rode to muster as -the knight of old rode to the tourney.</p> - -<p>His way led by a short cut through the ranges. The trysting place -lay just beyond. At a few miles end, he was entering a pass of -magnificence. The ranges lifted up on either hand, with mighty boulders -resting about their sides, and difficult caves—home of bat and -wallaby—opening dark mouths. The way took him below stunted trees, and -over brittle fallen boughs, and across stones which slipped beneath -the horse's feet. A second gully crossed the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> head of the pass, and -escapes led into the hills. Here was an old watch-ground of the blacks. -The difficult part of the journey had come. Power left the saddle for -the ground. The path turned left-handed, to clamber over a multitude -of rocks to easier country. In the rains a waterfall swirled this way. -Here and again here a pool of clear water was lodged in a basin of -rock, and above one such pool Nature had scooped a shelter in the hill. -Past tribes of men had left rude paintings on the wall. With snorts and -steadying cries the journey was done, and man and beast came out into a -wide timbered prospect.</p> - -<p>It was a fair spot to hap on in that desolate country, with a good -gathering of trees about a dry creek bed, and one or two late birds -twittering in them, and a muster of insects going about their day's -work over the hot ground. There were grateful patches of shade. This -was Ten Mile. At noon O'Neill had vowed to be at hand with the mob. -Power looked at the sun and guessed at ten o'clock. He turned over -whether to go farther; but a wait in the shade was better argument -than a ride in the open. He took the saddle from the black horse, and -tethered the beast in a cool place, and he himself lay down at hand for -a pipe and his thoughts. Presently a thread of smoke curled into the -hot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> air, driving away disappointed the flies which came in their hosts -a-visiting.</p> - -<p>It was pleasant work lying here in the shade with nothing to disturb a -fellow for an hour or two until the cattle came along, and the sunshine -heat finding a way into the shadow to make a man drowsy. It was good to -lie flat on one's back, blinking at the sunbeams through the leaves. It -was good, too, to suck at a pipe and watch the blue smoke go up. And -again it was good listening to the twitter of a few birds, and—opening -eyes—to see insects examining the ins and outs of the tree trunks. -It brought memories of other such lazy hours, snatched between a hard -morning and a hard afternoon. Give a man good health and work, and -there was little else he wanted to bring content.</p> - -<p>How the smell of the scrub lingered this morning. Ordinarily the sun -drove it early away. If he lived too long and became an old blind man, -he would get someone to lead him to a patch of scrub at early morning -that he might sharpen memory there.</p> - -<p>It must be hot in the open. The sunlight was burning him wherever a -break in the boughs let it through. He was a lucky chap to own this -great stretch of country, and every head of cattle on it, to have good -horses to ride, and to be his own master. No doubt there were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>unlucky -devils who never had these good things. A man knew little enough of -other men when all was said and done, and cared little enough for their -troubles either, if truth be told.</p> - -<p>Yet things were a shade out of tune to-day, pretend as he might; put -the feeling by as he would. Presently he sat up. With an oath, he -knocked out his empty pipe on a stone. He whipped himself for a fool. -He was a man with a mind of his own, he was in love with another woman; -and a girl twenty years old, who had not spoken a dozen words to him, -was taking up his thoughts all day. Ah! but she was the most perfect -thing he had known.</p> - -<p>The heat of the day came into the spot of his choosing, the sun climbed -into the sky, and he judged the hour towards noon. He rose to his feet, -pushed a handkerchief about his face, and grew busy gathering sticks on -a square of barren ground.</p> - -<p>There came through the timber, after many minutes, a far-off murmur, -such as might travel from a distant surge of the sea, or from a heavy -wind moving in a hollow. It was vague, and many would have been at -pains to pick it up; but the horse lifted ears to it, and Power came -out of his brown study. It arrived as a murmur; but the passing minutes -gave it volume. It was strangely exciting. Power knew it from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -beginning. It was the roar of a mob of cattle driven against their will.</p> - -<p>Presently the sound turned to broken bellowing, and into the tumult -entered the snapping of boughs, the bang of whips, and the fierce -voices of men. Power stood up. The mob must round the foot of a hill -before coming into view. He laid a hand on the horse's bridle and -waited for them.</p> - -<p>They came in a little while—one or two as a beginning, afterwards -the body of them. They dawdled forward, picking at the grass tufts, -horning one another, and lifting heads to bellow. They showed to the -eye a hardy, good-coloured mob of store cattle, the big part of them -six-year bullocks, more ready for a doze by a waterhole than for this -journey in the sun with men hanging at their houghs. They counted two -hundred maybe, and three white stockmen and a couple of blackfellows -handled them, turning them on the flanks, and hunting them forward in -the rear. They were a suspicion nervous, and gave Power a wide berth; -but the noon heat made them easy handling. By the time they were round -the foot of the hill, a stockman, pulling about his horse, rid himself -of their company and cantered across. The man pulled up a big chestnut -animal a few yards from Power, and showed a happy, handsome face<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> under -a big brimmed hat. He was a good figure of a man, riding his horse with -a swagger. He had wide kneepads to his saddle, and long rusty spurs at -his heels, a shirt wide open at the neck, and in his hand a whip. His -skin was brown. Sitting there, he looked a hardy fellow, one to put a -good day's work behind him.</p> - -<p>He had pulled his horse up from the canter. "Day, Mr. Power."</p> - -<p>"Good day, Mick. They came along all right?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, boss. A strong lot. Good travellers. An' quiet enough too. We'll -make Morning Springs Wednesday certain."</p> - -<p>Power nodded his head. "Did you cut those few out?"</p> - -<p>"All bar a half-dozen. We can fix 'em at the camp to-night. There's -a roan bull to be dropped. I don't know how he came with this lot. I -didn't see him when we picked 'em up. He wants watching. He's cranky in -the head." So speaking, the man leaned over and pointed his whip at a -beast on the outside of the mob. "I suppose we're making camp here for -an hour or two."</p> - -<p>"My oath, yes. I'll get a fire going."</p> - -<p>Mick O'Neill turned his horse about and put it to the canter. Again he -made a figure becoming his name as the daddy stockman for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> hundred -miles about. Power filled a quart pot at the water-bag, and built and -lit a fire. The flames rushed to embrace the hot wood. Others of the -company arrived with filled quart pots and pushed them into the flames. -The blackfellows held the cattle until they had drawn out and dropped -to their knees. The horses were unsaddled and unbitted. The quart pots -came from the fire. The tea was made. The sticks were trodden into the -sand, and the company took themselves into the shade, to sprawl there, -one eye waiting for the cattle, one hand waiting for the flies.</p> - -<p>They kept to camp through the heat of the day, and little was spoken -the while. They smoked and stared up through a lattice of leaves at -the lofty sky. The fierceness of the sun was spent when Power gave the -signal by sitting up. The horses were saddled, the men found their -seats—there was galloping of hoofs, a banging of whips, and the mob -flowed on the journey over the plain.</p> - -<p>It was half-past six in the evening and the sun was down on the western -sky, when the mob splashed into the shallows at the lower end of -Pelican Pool. Cleanskin Joe, the lean rusty cook, who had spent a busy -life darkening the doorways of most hotels in Queensland and New South -Wales, had arrived there early in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> morning, steering a two-horse -buckboard loaded up with swags, camp furniture and tucker bags. -Cleanskin Joe had built his fireplace, had put his Johnnie-cake in the -ashes, had talked half the day with Jackie the black horse-tailer, -coming after him with spare horses. Now, with his stew simmering, he -cast a hundred glances into the distance for the tardy cattle. His -eyes, once quick to meet an emergency, were bleared a trifle from that -constant darkening of doors. But finally they and his ears could not be -deceived, and he peered into the camp oven and turned the contents with -a long-handled ladle.</p> - -<p>Now all the world knows that cooks from sheep stations give you grilled -chops and curry and stew the round of the year, and cooks on cattle -stations serve grilled steak and curry and stew until you turn aside in -sorrow; but Cleanskin Joe was a man of resource, and every breakfast he -chopped up rissoles, rolling them on the back of the buckboard where -had gathered the grime of ten years' honest service. Because of this, -and because too many whiskies had cured him of a love of water, either -for inside or outer use, he had won his name of Cleanskin Joe.</p> - -<p>He was a man of history.</p> - -<p>Once upon a time Cleanskin Joe and the Honourable So-and-so, both out -at elbows with the world just then, had found a copper show a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> round -forty miles from the nearest hotel. They woke up one morning on bowing -terms with wealth. They had broken a new lode going any percentage you -like of ore. They stared at it without a word to say.</p> - -<p>The Honourable So-and-so had a vision. He saw dogs and women and wine.</p> - -<p>And Cleanskin Joe saw the price of a whisky.</p> - -<p>And Mr. So-and-so saw horses and cards and more wine.</p> - -<p>And Cleanskin Joe saw the price of another whisky.</p> - -<p>And Mr. So-and-so saw freedom from the Jews, and green tables and yet -more wine.</p> - -<p>And Cleanskin Joe saw prices of endless whiskies.</p> - -<p>Then said Mr. So-and-so, "Our one chance, old man, is to miss the -hotel." Cleanskin Joe wagged his head. Said Mr. So-and-so, "We must cut -the waggon road to miss it by a dozen miles."</p> - -<p>They drove their road over rise and down dip, plying the tools with -right good will because of that vision. One night Mr. So-and-so would -say—"How about direction, dear fellow? Are we enough to the right?" -And next night it was Cleanskin Joe. "I reckon we're safe to miss that -blankey place now, holdin' left as we're doing."</p> - -<p>But who shall win when Fate plays <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>hide-and-seek? On the hottest day of -the hottest summer in man's memory, they drove the road into a clearing -of the bush where the doors of the Drink-me-Dry Hotel leaned open to -meet them.</p> - -<p class="center">. . . . . . .</p> - -<p>Cleanskin Joe blinked his eyes through the smoke when Power cantered -up. "Evening, boss. I was lookin' for yer an hour since. What time do -yer want tucker ready?"</p> - -<p>"Half an hour will finish us. There's a bit of cutting out to do. What -about a drop of tea?"</p> - -<p>"Right on the spot. Take care. It's durned hot."</p> - -<p>Power drank the tea, and urged his horse about. The bullocks straggled -from the pool where they had been drinking. Power had given orders to -keep the horses from water, and the cattle were rounded up on the way -from the shallows.</p> - -<p>Presently the mob was bunched. First there came a time of talking and -shaking of heads. At the end of it, Power and O'Neill worked a way into -the jumble of animals, looking this way and that for the half dozen -cows, and keeping a wide eye for accidents. The beasts gave them fair -roadway, backing over here and there with snorting and a sweep of the -head. "Here we are," Power said. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> - -<p>He leaned a little forward and with a nice movement dropped his whip on -to the quarters of a red cow. On the instant the black horse answered -the signal. Power gave the reins to its neck and sat back with waiting -whip. Not far away O'Neill followed ready for what might come. The -black horse moved to the red cow's shoulder, and steered her with a -pretty cunning to the outside of the mob, nor lost place a single time, -though she twisted, turned and propped with skill. It was a game of -trick and shift to liven the eye of any man. She came presently to -the outermost circle, bellowing with nervousness and hurry. The black -horse was at her shoulder goading her farther into the open. She lost -her head and trotted a few paces from the mob, and that moment turned -the scales against her. As the black horse got into his stride, Power -let out his whip, and O'Neill came up behind with a hurry of hoofs. -They fell upon her with a scramble of blows. She bellowed, threw up her -head, tried to swing back to the mob, slipped, heard the bang of whips -about her ears, and took to her heels across the plain, with both men -at her tail. She showed them her heels for a quarter of a mile. "She's -right!" Power cried out.</p> - -<p>The last of the cows was cut out as dusk began to settle. There -remained only a few minutes to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> dark. "There's that bull yet," Power -said. He sat on a heaving horse, and lifted his hat from his head. The -men pushed a passage into the mob again. The herd was showing rather -nervous, and took handling to hold together. The roan bull met their -coming with a bellow and a shake of the head. But the black horse stood -to his shoulder, and the journey to the outside began. All the way the -bull showed little liking for the hustling, but his efforts to trick -the enemy availed him nothing, and he found himself of a sudden on -the outside of the mob, and a black horse urging him farther into the -open. In a flash he turned very ugly. It was the turn of a hair whether -he rushed or not. There was no waiting to add up chances, a wasted -moment meant his loss into the mob. Power brought his whip down, and -a long broad mark curled up in the smoking hair. The bull roared and -dropped his head. He was coming this time with no two meanings. Power -swept up the reins to pull the horse aside. Ill luck was at his back. -He found himself jammed in a press of cattle. He shook his feet clear -of the stirrups. He made ready with the whip again. He cut into the -bull again, and he felt the horse go beneath him, and himself falling -back into a huddle of bellowing beasts. With all his might he pulled -the horse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> clear of the horns. Horse and bull and he came down in a -scurry on the ground. He rolled clear of the saddle. He scrambled on to -a knee. He spat the dust from his mouth. And then the mob at his back -split, and O'Neill rode up in a fury, a whip waiting in his hand. The -bull was on its knees, jerking to its feet. A hurry of blows fell about -its face. It stumbled, slipped, and sprawled on its back. The whip -stopped falling, and a man jumped from his horse to the ground. With -great quickness he caught up the bull's tail, and thrust a foot into -a hollow of its hip. Thus he held it on the ground without any great -effort. There was shouting as the men called to each other.</p> - -<p>"Are yer orl right?"</p> - -<p>"Think so."</p> - -<p>"Can you get clear?"</p> - -<p>"Aye!"</p> - -<p>On the words followed a scramble of hoofs and a heave as the black -horse gained his haunches. Power was on his feet, and had thrown a leg -across the saddle. Another scramble, another heave gave the horse its -legs and Power a seat a-top of it. Power swung it to one hand with rein -and spurs, and leant far from the saddle towards the horse standing by. -"Let go when you can!" he cried out. "I have your horse!" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> - -<p>The man on the ground sprang clear of the bull. He clapped both hands -on the arch of the saddle, and vaulted into the seat. Shaken, and -with lost breath, the bull found its feet, but it had not thrown the -sweat from its eyes before the whips fell on it with a cruel fury. Its -courage was no more. It took to its heels across the plain.</p> - -<p>"Close go that," O'Neill said. "Are you hurt any?"</p> - -<p>"No, I fell clear. You got me out of a hole. I'll do as much for you -some day."</p> - -<p>"All in a day's work," O'Neill said. "'Struth! I reckon it's time for a -pipe."</p> - -<p>Quite suddenly the night stepped into the shoes of day. Darkness -arrived in a hurry, and the stars pushed themselves out of the sky. -The camp was chosen, the first watch was set. The horses, hobbled and -with bells about their necks, moved musically into the shadows, the -little company found the way to the cook's fire. There was stew in the -camp oven, and a ladle at hand. A pile of tin dishes was on the ground. -The Johnnie-cake waited on a box, and the earth lay spread for a -table. There is many a worse roof than the sky offers, and many a more -restless bed than a mattress of grasses.</p> - -<p>Supper ended, and there came the hour when pipes are pulled out. Power -went out of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> firelight presently, and listened to the mob getting -to camp for the night. There was a little bellowing from over there, -and now and then sounds of scurry, but nothing to cause unquiet. He -came back to O'Neill. "I'm going across to Gregory's for a while," he -said. "He was talking about a copper show of his. I'll be back for my -watch. I don't think you will have any trouble. Good night." He thought -O'Neill looked up over-quickly. "I don't think you will have any -trouble," he repeated. "Would you sooner I stayed? I will if you like."</p> - -<p>"There's no need, boss," said the other indifferently. "I didn't know -you knew them over there." The man began whistling.</p> - -<p>"So long, then."</p> - -<p>"So long, boss."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER V</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Hut By Pelican Pool</span></span></h2> - -<p>Power picked up his whip by way of company, and took the road to the -camp. The journey was done in ten minutes' time. The moon had not -risen, and he found the place in darkness, and from somewhere at hand -came the sudden bark of the dog. The tents were empty, but the hessian -building—a shabby affair—showed lamplight through half-a-dozen holes, -and sounds of movement came from inside. The gouger called out roughly -to the dog, but the brute barked on at full voice, backing away into -the shadows. Power brought his whip-handle down on the door-post. The -doorway was empty of a door, and he looked into a room lit by a couple -of lanterns. He had time to see a table and seats, knocked together -haphazard, and a woman of middle life bending over a basin at the -farther end. Then the opening was filled by the gouger, who peered out -into the dark.</p> - -<p>"Good evening," Power said.</p> - -<p>"Same to you," said the gouger. And he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> added with a wrinkling up of -his eyes—"I can't see more than half way through a brick wall in this -durned light. Anything up?"</p> - -<p>"I'm camping on the Pool to-night. You told me to take a look at your -show when I was round. I've come along on the chance. Maybe I've turned -up at an off time. In that case it's my own funeral, that's all. -Couldn't get away before."</p> - -<p>"So that's the lay. You're right enough. I'll fix you in a shake. It's -five minutes through the scrub. I can pick yer up a specimen or two -what's lying round about the shanty, if the women have let 'em be. But, -but"——the gouger began to lose his words and screw his mouth up and -finger his beard——. "Strike me," he said. "Strike me if I know you."</p> - -<p>The woman had left her work, and now peered over his shoulder. She -nudged him. "Yes, yer do, boss," she said in a heavy whisper. "It's Mr. -Power, of Kaloona—him as brought yer back last night."</p> - -<p>"You aren't getting at me?" said he of the beard in an aside.</p> - -<p>"Aw!"</p> - -<p>Then Gregory, the gouger, turned very friendly.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Power it is," he cried out, rolling the upper half of his body, -and showing his dirty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> teeth. "It's Mr. Power come for a look at the -show. My eyes haven't got the hang o' the dark yet. Come inside, Mr. -Power. I'm glad you found the way here, square and all I am."</p> - -<p>With something of a to-do the couple backed from the doorway, and Power -went into the room. Two lamps, placed high up, gave the light, which -was poor and depressing, and round about the globes beat frantically a -great army of insects. Power went into the room, and the close air made -him pause. He stopped to blink his eyes at the light. A moment later he -looked up, and across the table, busy at some cups in a basin, he saw -the girl he had dreamed of half the day.</p> - -<p>The wonder of her beauty came over him again with a feeling akin to -pain. She was looking him in the face with frank curiosity. He it was -who felt embarrassed and first turned away. He laughed at his scruples -next moment, and returned her stare for stare. He looked her over -slowly to discover her secret. And he succeeded ill. For her loveliness -was anchored to no this or that. She stood in the shabby room, a jewel -of such price as asked no setting. Her beauty would never stale, having -found the secret of the dawn which arrives morning by morning, ready -and wonderful, though all else is passing by in the turning of the -years. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> men, who presently would come to kneel in homage there, -would wonder at this glorious body no less the last hour than the first.</p> - -<p>Her hair was brown and shining, and heaped up about her head. Her eyes -were of a dark colour, of great size, and moment by moment sleepy with -dreams or bright with brief fires. Her mouth was heavy with passion -and gaoler of a thousand quick moods; her lips were bright, and behind -them little teeth gleamed white and charming. Her dress was open at the -neck, where her firm throat swept to her bosom. Her arms, bare to the -elbows, had taken their brown from the sun, but their shapeliness was a -wonder and delight. Her hands were slender and quick as they moved in -the water. What age was she? Twenty, it might be.</p> - -<p>"Good evening, Mister," she said.</p> - -<p>"Good evening," he answered.</p> - -<p>Gregory and his wife were hovering at his back. It was "Sit down, Mr. -Power," and "Make yerself at home, Mr. Power. I wish we had a better -seat for you, Mr. Power; but we haven't been here above two week, and -the boss isn't for doing more graft than he need."</p> - -<p>"It's that show, as I've told the old gel. It tires a bloke out," said -Gregory. The woman answered him with a curl of the lip.</p> - -<p>Power sat down on an up-ended box. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> could put his elbow on the -table, which had been knocked together slap-dash with a few nails. -After further to-do Gregory sat at hand with a pipe in his mouth. The -women started again on their business. In the pause in matters which -came on this sitting down Power felt the staleness of the room. He had -time to wonder why he had come. He took a second look at Mrs. Gregory. -She showed the ruins of good looks which the climate and hard living -had squandered. Her face was full of greed and craft. The man at his -side was a mixture of rogue and fool. Power had given up a smoke and a -yarn in the cool for this. For he didn't care the crack of a whip for -the show. His line was cattle, not copper. Then the girl had brought -him here. And to-morrow he was to see the girl he loved. He was a fool -for his pains.</p> - -<p>He was a fool for his pains, yet he would not have been more content -staying away. Something drew him here by roots deep down in him. How -her beauty moved him! Here stood a savage child, with her longings -crudely waiting on her lips, possessed of a body which was holy. Why -was she here, growing up alone and unwatched, to age before her time? -It was the law that painted the wings of the butterfly and brought the -cripple into the world; the law,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> jumbled beyond man's following, that -caused suns to blaze and worlds to groan in labour that meanest gnat -might spin a giddy hour.</p> - -<p>He must pull himself together.</p> - -<p>"That was your mob on the road this afternoon, I reckon?" the woman -asked, looking up of a sudden.</p> - -<p>"Yes, we came from the Ten Mile."</p> - -<p>"A handy lot," Gregory said, wagging his head, and spitting with a -pretty skill through the doorway.</p> - -<p>"Do you reckon to be long on the road with them?" the woman asked once -more.</p> - -<p>"I'm travelling to Morning Springs. We ought to be back inside the -week."</p> - -<p>The washing had come to an end. The girl collected the clean crockery -and grew busy at a shelf. The woman threw the water outside the door, -and dried her hands on a rag. "You come for a look at the boss's show?" -she said as she finished.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I heard one or two speaking of it, and thought I might come -along."</p> - -<p>"Do you do anything in the copper way?"</p> - -<p>"I've an interest in a show or two. I don't go much on it."</p> - -<p>"The boss's show looks A1. One of the Surprise men was down for a look -round in the morning." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ah, who was that?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. —— Moll, what's his name?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. King," said the girl.</p> - -<p>"And what did King say about it?"</p> - -<p>"He talked big enough," Gregory put in. "But he seemed as interested in -the gel there. He said he might be along agen."</p> - -<p>"Dad, yer tongue's too big for yer mouth."</p> - -<p>"Well, he seemed uncommon shook on yer. I reckon he thought yer show -better than my show. A-haw, haw, haw! A-haw, haw, he-haw!"</p> - -<p>"Mr. King is a pleasant-spoken gentleman," Mrs. Gregory said.</p> - -<p>"And," said Gregory, "I'd have thought him pleasanter if he had come to -a bargain."</p> - -<p>The girl, Moll Gregory, came back from the shelf. She put both hands -upon the table, and bent a little over it. Her great eyes looked into -Power's face. "Do you know Mr. King?" she said.</p> - -<p>"I often run across him."</p> - -<p>"Wot is he like?"</p> - -<p>"King's a good fellow."</p> - -<p>"He says funny things."</p> - -<p>"What did he say?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, he looked at me, you know, like men look when they're after a -lark, and he says: 'I came to look at copper and I found gold.' I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -couldn't take up his meaning quite, but I guessed he was trying to fool -me."</p> - -<p>The woman interrupted. "Maybe you're thinking of making an offer for -the show?"</p> - -<p>"Don't rush him, old woman. Maybe I'll hang on to it."</p> - -<p>"No, yer won't. You'll sell out and clear from the game. I want to see -some life. I'm tired of these dull holes, I am. You'll fool the thing -up and get took down, as you've been a dozen times."</p> - -<p>Something in this sentence put Gregory on a new turn of thought, for -he put his pipe on the table, clawed his beard a moment, and got up. -"D'yer know anything of wire strainers?" He began to hunt in a corner -and brought out parts of a clumsy machine, together with a tangle of -wire. The woman flew at him.</p> - -<p>"If you'd give by that foolery and do a bit of shovelling we might be -better off. Who wants a wire strainer where there isn't a fence for two -hundred mile? You make me sick, yer do."</p> - -<p>"Steady on, mother." Gregory fell into explanation, and in time brought -out a potato digger of his invention, and illustrated that fortune -was but a stay-away. Mrs. Gregory gave over talk, and drew an ancient -illustrated paper from somewhere, and sat down to turn the leaves. The -girl employed herself with one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> thing and another, going in and out -of the doorway, and seeming intent on her business; but Power knew -she watched him, and he himself missed nothing she did. Her beauty -was beyond the telling. Whether she walked, whether she sat, whether -she stood a moment by the doorway peering into the night, she was so -wonderful that nothing else was worth the looking.</p> - -<p>What was happening to him to-night!</p> - -<p>At last Gregory was persuaded to put his inventions back in their -corner and light lanterns. "You'd better come along, gel," he said. "We -may want you to hold a light." He and Moll Gregory and Power set out, -and Power came to remember the journey as many pictures of one girl who -passed from light into shadow and from shadow into light. She strode -beside him with the free walk of a goddess. They arrived at the shaft, -and she stood over the black mouth, holding a lantern to guide the -downward clamber. From his station at the bottom, Power saw her bending -overhead, with one hand on the windlass for support, and the stars of -the sky gathered together for background. He looked here and there at -the broken earth as Gregory bade him, and the dull green of the copper -appeared in abundance. It was dirty work and hot, with ever a trickle -of dirt down the back of the neck, and he wished himself well up at the -top again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> They had climbed up presently, and very soon had made the -road home. The close air of the hut gave them ill greeting. Gregory put -down the lantern noisily on the table, blew a big breath out of his -mouth, and ran a finger round the neck of his shirt.</p> - -<p>"This weather's no good for climbing about in," he said.</p> - -<p>The woman looked up from her paper with a keen face. "Wot did you think -of the show, Mr. Power?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know much about that sort of thing, Mrs. Gregory. It looks -thundering good."</p> - -<p>Gregory began to think. "There's specimens about the place," he said, -"but durn me if I know where to come on them."</p> - -<p>"You left two or three by the pool, Dad."</p> - -<p>"Could you find 'em?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe."</p> - -<p>"Have a look then, gel."</p> - -<p>"It doesn't matter," Power said.</p> - -<p>"It will be no worry." Moll Gregory picked up the lantern and was going -out of the door. Power crossed the room of a sudden.</p> - -<p>"I'll come with you. It will save bringing them back."</p> - -<p>"Orl right, Mr. Power."</p> - -<p>They went out into the dark. The moon would rise in a few minutes; but -now the night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> was dark and still and close. The sky was filled with -stars shining with the fierce heat of the tropics. The Southern Cross -lay against the horizon; but in the North, Orion was climbing up, and -the Scorpion curled his tail in the middle of the sky. The dog shuffled -from the shadows after them, and very soon man and girl had passed -between the trees by the bank of the waterhole. They were walking side -by side, the girl bearing the lantern, and it was as they came upon the -bank that Moll Gregory broke silence.</p> - -<p>"It was round here," she said, pausing to take bearing. "Dad left them -one day when he couldn't be bothered taking them home."</p> - -<p>She put the lantern this way and that, and they made careful search. -But their trouble was empty of profit.</p> - -<p>"This is where they was," she said. "Maybe Mr. King lifted them. -There's been no one else this way."</p> - -<p>"It doesn't matter," Power answered. "The show was good enough."</p> - -<p>They were looking into the Pool, which the gloom made mysterious and of -great size. The water was fretted with the images of stars. Big moths -came out of the dark to beat against the lantern. Power spoke because -it was impossible to stand there without a reason.</p> - -<p>"A grand place this." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It isn't so bad. Bit slow after Mount Milton."</p> - -<p>"Do you want people?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not particular; but a gel wants a bit of life sometimes. It's -terrible weary of a time without a sight of anyone new. Sometimes I'm -fair spoiling for a bit of fun."</p> - -<p>"What do you do with yourself? Do you read?"</p> - -<p>"I'm no great hand at learning. I got no schoolin'."</p> - -<p>"Never been to school?"</p> - -<p>"No, we always lived out back where there was none. I've not been -christened neither. Never saw a church for that matter. There was a -parson what came round our parts once with a pack-'orse. I fair scared -him out of his life when I let on about it. He was for fixing me -straight then."</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you let him?"</p> - -<p>"Something happened. I forget."</p> - -<p>There came a space of silence. She lifted her great eyes. "Yes, I'm -spoiling for a bit of life. I'm sick of seeing nothing. I reckon maybe -you've moved about, Mister?"</p> - -<p>"I travelled a bit."</p> - -<p>"That Mr. King, he's been about a bit."</p> - -<p>"Did he say so?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, he said—aw, it doesn't matter what he said. It was something -stupid."</p> - -<p>"What was it?"</p> - -<p>"Aw——"</p> - -<p>"Tell me."</p> - -<p>"Aw, he only said as he'd been all over the world, but hadn't met a gel -to equal me. He said all the silks and satins in the world would never -do me proper. He said as he'd be back in a day or two. Do you reckon -he'll come?"</p> - -<p>It was Power who was put out of countenance. He said after a -moment—"D'you want him to come?"</p> - -<p>"I won't be worried if he do. He knows how to talk a gel round."</p> - -<p>The moon began to rise. As it left the horizon it was as large as a -cartwheel and as rich as a copper platter. Its light began to find -a way into many places. The waters of the Pool grew very fair. But -nothing in that prospect was fair as the girl at Power's side.</p> - -<p>Who knows what thoughts just then came knocking at the doors of his -brain? Truth to tell he fell to frowning and nursing his lower lip. The -girl was impatient before he came out of his brown study.</p> - -<p>"I have to get back," he said. "The moon is up. I am taking next watch."</p> - -<p>"Mick O'Neill is with you, isn't he?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He is in charge now. I relieve him. D'you know him?"</p> - -<p>"He's often this way."</p> - -<p>They were on the way back to the hut. "Is he interested in copper, too?"</p> - -<p>The girl looked up in a puzzled way.</p> - -<p>"Well, copper or no copper," Power said of a sudden, "you've a straight -man there. I don't know any better one. That's about it."</p> - -<p>He fell into thought again, walking at no great pace with eyes upon the -ground. His preoccupation brought a pout to the girl's lips. She said: -"You're to be a week on the road, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>"That's about it."</p> - -<p>"Will you be seeing us agen?"</p> - -<p>"Would you like me to?"</p> - -<p>"I reckon dad likes a yarn of a night."</p> - -<p>"And what about yourself?"</p> - -<p>"Aw, yes." Saying this she looked up and laughed.</p> - -<p>"Listen, girl, here's the camp. Stand still. King told you he had never -met a girl to equal you. I can tell you more than that. I can tell you -that no queen with her crown on her head and her throne underneath her -ever held the power you hold. You can make the wise man foolish, and -fill the fool with learning. You can take the clean man to the mire, -and cause the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> dirty man to wash his hands. Ah, girl! don't listen."</p> - -<p>"Aw, get out," she said.</p> - -<p>"Back agen." Gregory called out, pushing his bunch of dirty beard out -at the door. "Did you tumble on them?"</p> - -<p>"No luck," Power said. "It's no matter. There isn't any doubt about the -show. I'm back to say good night. I've my watch to stand over there."</p> - -<p>"Won't you have a cup of tea," said the woman, coming to the door.</p> - -<p>"Not this time; I can't wait. I'm sorry."</p> - -<p>"Ye'll be back sometime?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I'll look you up in a few days. Maybe you'll have opened up the -show a bit by then. Well, good night."</p> - -<p>"Good night, Mr. Power."</p> - -<p>"Good night, Mr. Power."</p> - -<p>"So long, Mister."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VI</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Coach comes to Surprise</span></span></h2> - -<p>Next day Power kept his promise, and rode into Surprise as soon as he -could. He let go the horse in a yard, and tramped the stony stretch -which lies before the house. Outside the accountant's office he came -across Mr. Neville and Maud. He heard Maud's cry, "Well done, Jim," and -the old man waved a stick in the act of pouncing on a passer by. Maud -came up in great glee.</p> - -<p>"How quick you've been. I was not expecting you till sunset."</p> - -<p>"I've had good luck. They're a strong lot. Mick O'Neill is taking them -to the hollow. You must ride out with me to-night for a look at them."</p> - -<p>"But I can't, Jim. And I'd love to. These wretched people come to-day. -Don't you remember? I can't leave them to father the first night."</p> - -<p>"I forgot them. Hang it! that settles it, I suppose." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> - -<p>"We're on the way to meet the coach now. Come along. You have nothing -else to do, have you?"</p> - -<p>"I'll come, of course. You ought to pull that hat down, girl. Your face -is getting burnt to bits."</p> - -<p>"You said you liked me brown."</p> - -<p>Old Neville was hard engaged with the passer by. The two people heard -his harangue, and saw him blowing cigar smoke in a hurry. Soon he drove -the enemy through the office door, pursuing him hard in retreat. At -once Maud went close to Power.</p> - -<p>"Jim," she said, "I've been so nice to father all day. He is splendid -just now. As soon as you get him alone, ask him about our marriage. -He'll be reasonable this time, I know. I'll find you a chance. Why, -Jim, what's the matter to-day?"</p> - -<p>"Matter with me?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, you're down on your luck, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>"You are always thinking something, Maud."</p> - -<p>The thread of talk was broken, and they wandered into the office with -nothing to say. It was built of iron sheets, held together with wooden -beams. Frequent ledgers and other dreary volumes took their rest upon -the tables, and files of ageing papers dangled by strings along the -walls. The dust of spent willy-willys<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> had found the upper shelves, -and many an industrious fly had left a lifetime's labour on ceiling -and woodwork. The corpulent cockroach walked here after the heat of -the day, and the spider spread his net in the loftier corners. For at -Surprise a happy line is drawn between the must-be and the need-not, -and the word "broom" is not used among the best people.</p> - -<p>The place was full of a sickly heat, but the day was Saturday, and -King only had stayed behind. They found him writing at the lower end. -Half-way down Neville had secured his victim between a table and a -chair. The person in this unhappy case was an elderly man of a very -broken appearance. He might have been a gentleman a long time ago. His -hair was grey, but a moustache of any colour you please drooped over -his mouth. His eyes were pale blue, with a blink, and his chin grew -a day-old stubble of beard. He wore round his neck a collar of many -washings and a doubtful ironing, and a tie in a limp old age. He wore -no coat, which is the summer fashion; his trousers were of khaki stuff -and wrinkled meekly at his boots. The toes of his boots leaned up in -search of something kinder than the stones. On the little finger of -his left hand showed the signet ring of the house of Horrington, of -Such-and-such Hall, England. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> - -<p>Prosperity and Mr. Horrington were coldly acquainted. Horrington was an -idealist among men. Some pass their days mapping out new continents, -others knit their brows over the printing press and the steam engine. -Horrington had resolved on reading the riddle of how to build a fortune -within call of a hotel and without hard work. He had met with poor -success. He had eschewed hard work, and he had lived within reach of -a hotel; but prosperity had shrugged shoulders at him. Devotion to an -idea had lost him the affection of his cousin, Sir John; had found him -a passage to Australia; had drifted him presently from town to bush. -Unable to contend singly with ill-fortune, he had married a faded -woman, who took him and his burdens, no one knew why. Mrs. Horrington -painted a little, sang a little, worked her needle a little, played -the piano a little—and these arts she taught the daughters of those -parents who are not exacting if terms be cheap. So Horrington had kept -constant to his idea. But the lean times had brought the pair to an -alien land. For at Surprise they paint only when a new coat is due to -the poppet-legs, and only ply the needle should a wall need repair. At -Surprise the mouth-organ and the concertina soothe the ache for higher -things.</p> - -<p>The old man came to an end of his breath. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Sir," Mr. Horrington began with a certain dignity. "You will own I -have heard you with patience."</p> - -<p>"Eh?" the old man grunted.</p> - -<p>"And I repeat I have every right to complain on finding myself put on a -beggarly allowance of water at a moment's notice."</p> - -<p>"We may be doing a perish before the rains come."</p> - -<p>"Why, Good Lord! sir, what's a kerosene tin of water to a family? My -wife is not a strong woman, and like all women in poor health, she's -ready to blame others for her shortcomings. She has it at the back of -her mind that I make a difficulty carrying the water; though, Good -Lord! I've scraped my shins often enough on the tins. When I turned -up with a single bucket this morning, and the goat had to go short, -she put the blame at once on me. She wouldn't listen until she saw for -herself the tanks were locked. Then home she went to throw herself on -the bed. 'Never enough wood chopped to light a fire, now no water to -wash with, not a soul to speak to, never anything to look at'—that's -what I listened to until I left the place."</p> - -<p>"Where did ye go to?"</p> - -<p>"I had an appointment."</p> - -<p>"Near the hotel, I reckon." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Your joke, sir, could be in better taste. I had business with one of -the shift bosses."</p> - -<p>"At the hotel?"</p> - -<p>"We did happen to meet at the hotel."</p> - -<p>"He, he!"</p> - -<p>"Because I have been unfortunate, sir, I think there is no need for -rudeness. In a politer country, where I have ridden my twice or three -times weekly to my cousin's hounds, I——"</p> - -<p>The old man broke up the audience with a flourish of his stick.</p> - -<p>King left his work when Maud and Power arrived. "Oh, Jim, I've -just remembered." Maud called out. "Mr. King was down at the river -yesterday, and saw the pretty girl. You know whom I mean? Mr. King -hasn't been the same since. None of his balances came right this -morning. He said she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. Didn't -you, Mr. King?"</p> - -<p>"I expect so."</p> - -<p>"Jim, you must see her, just to tell me it's true what they say. Would -you think her the loveliest thing in the world?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know."</p> - -<p>"Don't look so glum over it. Will you go and see her?"</p> - -<p>"I have seen her."</p> - -<p>"You? When?"</p> - -<p>"On the way home when I left you last time." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Why didn't you tell me?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't think of it."</p> - -<p>"You stupid! And what was she like?"</p> - -<p>"Like? Oh, she was very pretty."</p> - -<p>"Is that all you can say? Tell me about her. What was she doing?"</p> - -<p>"Doing? I don't know what she was doing. She had a lantern in her hand."</p> - -<p>"You want shaking, Jim! Mr. King told me much more. Didn't you look at -her? Mr. King said a hundred shadows were at hide-and-seek in her hair, -and when he came to talk about her eyes, he sat down—the words in his -mouth stopped his tongue moving."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps that is why Power says nothing now," King said.</p> - -<p>"I hope not," Maud cried quickly. And she fell to teasing. "No, poor -old Jim was thinking of his bullocks when he saw her."</p> - -<p>"What should I have thought about, the cattle or Moll Gregory?"</p> - -<p>"Neither. You should have been thinking of me. I see you know her name."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I've learned that."</p> - -<p>King shut up the ledger with a bang. "That's enough for Saturday. -What's next? A smoke, a drink or the coach? I vote a drink."</p> - -<p>"I vote the coach," Maud cried. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Here's a cigarette," said Power. "You must find it hot here of an -afternoon."</p> - -<p>"I do. The sun gets round on to the wall, and I feel as charitable as a -woman with an empty woodbox."</p> - -<p>"You ought to give up this uncomfortable bachelor life, Mr. King," said -Maud. "You ought to go down South and marry some nice girl."</p> - -<p>"Alas! my purse is not as full as once it was. A fool and his money are -soon parted, they say. I should have to marry a girl with money, and a -girl and her money are equally soon married—by someone else."</p> - -<p>Neville came up behind. "How ye do chatter, Maud. We'd better get along -to that coach. Who's coming? King, ye had better come along." He jerked -his head over his shoulder. "Hey, Horrington, ye can tell your wife -she can have what water she wants and I'll be by to see you carry it." -Marching four abreast, they passed out of the office.</p> - -<p>Surprise is not a beautiful place. The hills holding it are the -greenest in that country, and lean up and down in gentle curves. But -the bottom of the basin has grown shabby with much use. Patches of -sand cover it, in company with clumps of spinifex put out of repair by -disillusioned goats. The tents and humpies of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> camp rise up on this -in seedy and unordered rank, and low-born fowls doze at the doorways. -In the middle of the congregation stands one building somewhat more -gracious. A glittering roof protects it, and there is paint upon the -walls. Above the doorway runs the legend—Surprise Valley Hotel.</p> - -<p>On Saturday afternoon they keep holiday at Surprise. It is then the -butcher kills for the second time in the week, and Mrs. Bloxham, Mrs. -Johnson and Mrs. Niven meet at his lean-to for Sunday's dinner and a -half-hour gossip. They find talk until the coach arrives. About the -same time, Bloxham, Johnson and Niven put an eye to their premises, -pulling together a hole in the wall here, a slit in the roof there. -They, in due course, turn steps to the hotel for the coming of the -coach. At four o'clock, about that place, you find all the best people -of Surprise.</p> - -<p>The party from the office took the direction of the hotel. Old Neville -with a great play of his stick held the lead. He kept the talk his way. -Said he: "I can't make out what this fellow is coming for. Bringing his -wife, too. She'd as well been left behind. He wrote something about -coming for a holiday, being in poor health or something. It beats me -what he thinks to find here. He'll be leavin' by the first coach, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> -reckon. I shan't mind. I've too much on hand to be trotting round with -beef tea. Maud will have to see to them."</p> - -<p>"Selwyn is the name, isn't it?" Power said.</p> - -<p>The old man nodded his head. "Huh, huh! There was an assayer of that -name here once three or four year back. There was no houses then; -didn't scarce run a tent, and he and me and a couple of other fellows -was camped where the stable is. He had some damned silver thing -something like a flute, and one night a feller out of pity asked him to -play it. It was the horriblest row ever you heard. The chap that asked -him made some excuse and went so far away he nearly got bushed. He went -on playing till near midnight, I reckon. When we were all asleep the -damned row woke us up again. I sits up and lets fly in a great rage: -'For God's sake, man,' I said, 'a fair thing is a fair thing. We've -listened to you half the damned night already. D'ye think,' says I—and -then I see all of a sudden it was the dingoes howling. He, he! Huh, -huh, huh!"</p> - -<p>"Father, you put a bit to that story every time."</p> - -<p>"And it's not everyone knows how to do that, my girl."</p> - -<p>"Hullo, here's a new place," Power said. "You've grown it since last -week." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Smith, the schoolmaster," answered the old man with a jerk of the -head. "He's doing his week here. I mean to catch him home if I can. I'm -the man for a gentleman that lets his horse into my feed-room."</p> - -<p>"Let him alone, father. He is hunted enough without you. You must have -seen him, Jim. He's the man that looks as though something is just -about to happen. He's married to a book and never gets past the first -chapter. We ought to be sorry for him. He's meant for a town. I don't -know what brought him here. Let's be romantic. Perhaps he loved some -girl and lost her."</p> - -<p>"In that case," King said, "I'll keep my sympathy. There are enough -mourners for the man who has loved some woman and lost her. My heart -goes out to the man who has loved some woman and can't lose her."</p> - -<p>"Huh, huh!" cried the old man from the lead. "Ye needn't pity him, -Maud. He has some woman to follow him round."</p> - -<p>They had come to a couple of tents standing solitary. Neville rattled -in the doorway of the first with his stick. "Hey, there, who's home?" -The tent door was open for the world to look inside. At a table, -consisting of a large board placed on a couple of travelling bags, Mr. -Smith sat writing. An armful of books was at his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> elbow, and a litter -of papers had tumbled round his heels. He was a man of fair complexion, -going early bald on top. He sighed with great melancholy when the knock -came, and put a hand to his forehead. On top of this he conjured up a -mechanical smile and rose to his feet.</p> - -<p>"You, Mr. Neville? Turned hot, hasn't it? Can I do anything?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose ye know your horse had its head into my chaff half the -morning? The last ton ran me up eighteen shilling a bag."</p> - -<p>Mr. Smith shut his eyes. "I've driven it over the other way twice this -afternoon," he said. "I sat down five minutes ago."</p> - -<p>"I'm talking of the morning."</p> - -<p>"I was at school then."</p> - -<p>"That don't put my chaff in the bag."</p> - -<p>Maud came to the front. "That's enough, father. I hope the horse had a -good dinner. It does the Company good to give away a little chaff. How -is the book getting on?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Smith shook his head. "According to the time-table the third -chapter would have been finished this week, but everything is turning -out against it. I am afraid this life isn't conducive to study, and my -unfortunate poverty precludes me from obtaining the necessary reference -books. Directly I sit down, there's the dog to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> put out, or the cat to -put in, and, honestly, as my name is Pericles Smith——"</p> - -<p>"Perry!" a woman's voice called from somewhere, "there's a wretched -goat at the flour."</p> - -<p>"Instantly, darling." Mr. Smith closed his eyes. "I live in the hope of -getting an hour to myself one day; but for ten years——"</p> - -<p>"Perry, there's another goat joining it."</p> - -<p>"At once, dear. I suppose I shall write the words 'Chapter Four' some -day, but——"</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm not going to stay here while you chatter any longer," -interrupted the old man, moving off, "and you, Smith, you look after -that horse of yours or ye'll find yourself reading a pretty long bill."</p> - -<p>They came away with Smith still in the doorway.</p> - -<p>"I wish he wouldn't make me laugh. I am so sorry for him," said Maud.</p> - -<p>King made answer. "It's not the best of lives this, packing up for -somewhere at the end of every week, knowing the sun will be at the back -of your neck all day, and a dozen wild children wait at the journey-end -for the ABC to be knocked into their heads. I am content to stay plain -John King."</p> - -<p>"A man can say he has put a good day's work behind him," Power said, -"and that's as well. It helps to pull his thoughts straight at night." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Jim, you are taking life so heavily to-day. I had to cheer up Mr. King -this morning because he looked too long at the pretty girl. Now you -have caught the blues somewhere."</p> - -<p>The butcher's shop stands on this side of the hotel, and on Tuesday -and Saturday the butcher stands behind his block, and chops your fate -up with the meat. Mrs. Niven, Mrs. Boulder and Mrs. Bullock grow very -humble when they go a-shopping. It is "Mr. Simpson, and how's the heat -been using yer, and is there any chance of a bit o' the silverside this -time?" And "Mr. Simpson, and I suppose the flies is worrying yer a -treat, and I take it it's my turn for the undercut." And Simpson, with -a to-do of knife and steel makes answer. "Now, I'm givin' wot there -is, and I'm not givin' nothing else, and if yer aren't satisfied, yer -can go elsewhere. I reckon the next butcher isn't farther than Mount -Milton, and I reckon Mount Milton isn't more than seventy mile."</p> - -<p>"Aw, you are gettin' at us, Mr. Simpson," comes the timid chorus.</p> - -<p>The bakery stands between the butcher's and the hotel, presenting -itself to the world as a building of wood and bagging of a very -cutthroat appearance. Mr. Regan, baker, being a man of parts, turns a -pleasant sovereign or two in the little "Crown and Anchor" saloon at -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> back. A couple of nights a week the policeman looks in to run the -bank for an hour or so. It's "Now don't stand feeling yer corns there -as though yer ole woman was watching. Choose yer crown, and pick yer -anchor. The dice aren't loaded more than my old grandad's gun was, and -I never see him try to blow to bits anything stronger than his nose. -Come on, gents, every throw a crown, and every chuck an anchor. An' -don't forget time's flying, as the monkey said when he 'eaved the clock -through the winder."</p> - -<p>They took their stand under the hotel verandah. In twos and threes -Surprise strolled to the meeting ground. Neville waved his stick -a dozen times and grunted a how-de-do and shouted. Mr. Horrington -appeared presently, and later disappeared; and others of note swelled -the congregation. In a doorway loitered Barcoo Bill, as graceful a hand -at duffing a horse as you might find this side of the border. Into -stout argument had fallen one-eyed Sal, who, armed with a crowbar, and -fortified with a bottle of Dewar's best, had once upon a time defeated -the only policeman in a single round go-as-you-please affair. In a -patch of shade kicked his heels Iron-jawed Dick, who, for the price -of a drink, had lifted in his teeth a table laid for dinner. Other -people—tall and short, lean and stout—took their stand up and down -the way, and kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> ever the tail of an eye on the horizon. Dusty curs -mooched about, and sat down suddenly to beat their stomachs with a -back leg. At half the posts were hitched high-rumped horses with rusty -saddles a-top of them.</p> - -<p>The walk in the sun had left King a good deal the worse for wear. He -pulled forth a handkerchief and pushed it about his face. "If," said -he, making an end, "things are ordered properly in the world to come, -we shall have a special heaven to ourselves. There the sun will totter -through the sky in a mild old age, the rivers will run water, the goats -will come home to be milked, and the woodbox will never empty. And -an angel will wait at the gates holding out a flypaper in place of a -flaming sword."</p> - -<p>"Hey?" cried the old man in a sudden excitement. He was beating his -stick at the distance.</p> - -<p class="center">. . . . . . .</p> - -<p>The five goose-rumped horses, in a lather of sweat, and chastened with -a great following of flies and dust clouds, had lumbered the coach to -the top of the last rise, and the first tents of Surprise, and the -poppet heads of the mine were marching into view, as Mrs. Selwyn stated -for the third time on the journey that she did not know whether she -was on her crown or her toes. From the box seat, Joe Gantley, mailman, -steered his team with bored fingers, jerking his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> head to the right -now and then to clear his throat, and spitting the flies from his lips -on occasion in an every-day sort of way. Selwyn and Mrs. Selwyn were -packed beside him, where the sun leaned down, the dust climbed up, and -there was perpetual prospect of heaving flanks and clicking hoofs.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Selwyn had come to the struggle in a dust coat and a veil of many -folds; and in face of a hundred difficulties that massive woman had -lost no jot of dignity, remaining to the end a most inspiring spectacle.</p> - -<p>Selwyn had made the best of a bad place at the end of the row. By a -judicious play of elbow and hip he had widened his share of matters, -and now could lean a little easier and find a bit of support for the -hollow of his back. He had grown shabby from the funnel of dust rising -from the top of the wheel, but he was not a man to be put about by -small matters, as he was always very ready to let you know.</p> - -<p>Hilton Selwyn, a director of the Surprise Copper Mining Company, and -gentleman of no other special business, was at this time between fifty -and fifty-five, but lean and active in spite of middle age. Cleancut -in feature, upright in carriage, he suggested the military man, and -his youthful step would have passed him as any age. It was only on -discovery of the thinned grey<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> hair and close-clipped tobacco-stained -moustache that one understood half a century had gone over his head.</p> - -<p>Half a century had gone over his head and health had become -treacherous. He could crawl through a swamp at dawn on the chance of -an odd teal, and come home to a thumping breakfast; but two minutes -weeding in the garden brought on sciatica. Similarly he could stand -all day in a drizzle of rain persuading a trout to rise, and more than -one biting July breakfast-time had found him half naked worming a way -across the lawn of his country place to a flock of pigeon feeding in -the timber; but indoors his only seat was right over the fire, where he -took the warmth from everybody—as Mrs. Selwyn was often good enough to -tell him.</p> - -<p>It was to get himself into better fettle that he sought the present -change of scene. He woke up one evening of last winter from his -after-dinner sleep in the best arm-chair. The waking up was a delicate -matter. He gave two long drawn-out yawns. He shot a fist into the air -and stretched slowly, rolled himself into a sitting position, blinked -once or twice, screwed up his face as though he had a bad taste in the -mouth, caught hold of the mantelpiece and pulled himself on to his -legs. He rocked about a little, screwed up his face again, and at last -quite woke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> up. His hair was like a storm at sea, his tie was crooked, -his dress clothes were creased.</p> - -<p>In the manner of a man announcing news of deep interest he spoke:</p> - -<p>"I feel a little better now. I think I deserve a cigarette." He felt -in his pockets for his cigarette case. He looked on the floor, in the -fender, and under the cushions of the arm-chair. "Dear me! Where's my -cigarette case?"</p> - -<p>"You don't think I have it, do you?" Mrs. Selwyn asked coldly. She had -been playing hostess to a couple of friends while the host slept.</p> - -<p>"I don't know where it is; it's not here, anyhow." A terrific frown -came over his face. "This accursed habit of tidying is making the house -impossible to live in. One puts a thing down, and the next minute some -interfering meddler picks it up and hides it, and then forgets where -they put it. Curse everybody!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Selwyn grew very stiff. "Is this language meant for me? I shall -not submit another moment to it. I am very pleased your cigarette case -is lost. I hope it has gone for good. You are a perfect plague with -your things. It is very good of anyone to touch them at all. In future -they can lie where they drop as far as I am concerned."</p> - -<p>"I hope everyone else will be equally kind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> There may be a chance of -finding things then. Life's not worth living as it is, with a troop of -women following one about picking up every little thing one puts down -and then losing it."</p> - -<p>Selwyn shouted at the top of his voice. "Jane!" The parlourmaid came -in. His smile was charming. "I've lost my cigarettes, Jane. They are -nowhere to be found."</p> - -<p>"The case is on the mantelpiece, sir, in the library, where you left it -this afternoon."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" Selwyn saved an awkward situation by finding a pipe and cleaning -it. Mrs. Selwyn watched him keenly. He cried out suddenly.</p> - -<p>"You women amuse me. You live in an agony of unrest in case a bit of -ash gets on a chair or rug, and shorten your lives with the excitement -of finding a fishing-bag with a few fish in it on a drawing-room sofa -instead of in the kitchen. There never was a woman yet with a true -idea of comfort. Hullo! chocolates here. They don't look bad at all." -He proved his words by diving into the box and bringing out a handful, -which he munched with obvious satisfaction.</p> - -<p>"I believe in a man liking sweets. It shows he doesn't drink." He -munched on a moment or two. Then he smiled with the charm that deceived -guests into believing him a solicitous host. "Now who is going to play -or sing? I am sure none of you are entertaining Harry as I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> should have -done had health allowed. By the way though, I did hear some music. I -think I must have been asleep. It was that sherry we had at dinner. -It's a fatal thing to wet one's whistle with. A glass or two of sherry -followed by the genial blaze of a good fire on the pit of the stomach, -and the case is hopeless. I expect these chocolates will play up with -my hollow tooth. It's a sad thing to arrive at my time of life and -begin to feel oneself giving way everywhere. I can't get about as I -used to. A hard day's shooting knocks me up." He shook his head in -deeply sympathetic manner.</p> - -<p>"Haven't you done enough talking about yourself?"</p> - -<p>"I'm talking because I'm the only one here with any ideas of -conversation. You are all sitting like a crowd at a wake before the -whisky is passed round."</p> - -<p>"You give everybody a racking headache."</p> - -<p>"I'm very sorry. I don't know why, but there it is, I never get -headaches."</p> - -<p>"Nothing would ever kill you."</p> - -<p>"You needn't be so annoyed about it. As a matter of fact I've not been -at all well these last few months; only, unlike other people, I make no -fuss about it. I've a thundering good mind to see a doctor to-morrow. I -jolly well will."</p> - -<p>Great matters followed on that little upset.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> The rocky state of his -health came as a thunderbolt to Selwyn. His medical man said an entire -change of scene and climate was absolutely needful. What better place -than Surprise where every worry could be put behind? With a fishing-rod -and a gun-case in the baggage a man should be good for a six-month's -stay. Mrs. Selwyn began with a stout refusal. She knew as well as she -was alive the affair would end disastrously. She had a presentiment -some calamity was waiting. She could foresee with her capable brain how -unfitted Hilton was for the whole business. Her heart was in her mouth -at the mere thought of the journey. And look at the expense. "Think -of my purse!" she cried. "Think of my pocket!" Finally she fell into -agreement, so as to be at hand to say "I told you so."</p> - -<p>Thus it came about that a fiery November afternoon found the -Selwyns covering the last mile of the journey. The back of the -coach was a-choke with wares. The mail bags shared the bottom with -the Selwyn luggage, and a round dozen of other parcels held the -hopes of as many women at Surprise. Mrs. Niven, Mrs. Bloxham, Mrs. -Anybody-else-you-please, lured by a catalogue, had summoned them in a -halting hand weeks before, and had spent spare time counting up the -days to their coming. On top of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> bundle of wares, in no ways a bed -of their choosing, were chained Selwyn's proved bodyguard, the sharers -of his board, almost the sharers of his bed. They were a mangy pointer -of great age, and a terrier with a punishing jaw. The pointer had -fallen into a miserable doze; but the terrier yet nursed hope of sudden -calamity, and kept a quarrelsome eye at half-cock.</p> - -<p>With a crack of the whip, a spurt from the goose-rumped horses, and a -stir among the waiting congregation, the coach rolled to a standstill -before Surprise Valley Hotel. Such was the manner of the Selywn coming.</p> - -<p class="center">. . . . . . .</p> - -<p>That evening it wanted half-an-hour to the rise of the moon when Power -left Neville's verandah for his horse and the journey home. The lights -were going out over all the camp. Maud followed at his side for a -good-bye. The old man fussed after them as far as the back door.</p> - -<p>"Don't chatter too long, gel. I won't be left with them people, d'ye -hear? I may be wrong, but I think it won't take me time to be sick o' -the pair of them. I may be wrong, huh, huh! Goodness! Look at the lid -off the dustbin again. That woman don't do a thing she's told. Look at -it! Some people breeds flies for a fancy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> Hope ye have a good trip, -Power. See you again in a week."</p> - -<p>The hill begins at the very backdoor of the house, and lifts a wide -breast of broken red rock into the cooler spaces. There are many seats -about the top, and all breezes go that way. The poet, the refugee and -the sighing swain thither may turn steps to find easement of their -state. But few visit the hilltop, for the poet has no place on the -books of the Surprise Mining Company, and the refugee need not take -such a lengthy journey, while love ever keeps its hiding-places ready -at hand.</p> - -<p>The old man turned into the house, and Maud Neville put her hands on -Power's shoulders. "A few minutes don't matter, Jim. This is our first -time to-day. We'll go up the hill a moment."</p> - -<p>They went up there, and sat down upon the warm, red rock. The camp -was a few points of light in the dark; but many white stars filled -the sky in old places—the Cross to the South, the Belt to the North, -the Scorpion where you must crane the neck to find it. In such a dark -lovers must sit closely if they would not be lost.</p> - -<p>"Jim, to-day has been a failure, hasn't it?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't mean it to be."</p> - -<p>"You have had the blues all day, and those wretched people came before -I could cure you."</p> - -<p>"I shall be back in a week, Maud." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I had worked father so hard, and all for nothing. I know it was not -your fault. There wasn't one chance."</p> - -<p>"I'll have a pipe now we have sat down."</p> - -<p>"See the stars marching into their old places. What a lot they see. Do -you think they look right into us?"</p> - -<p>"Let us hope not."</p> - -<p>"Do you love me, Jim?"</p> - -<p>"Must I say it again?"</p> - -<p>"As much as you say you do?"</p> - -<p>"I forget how much I said."</p> - -<p>"Because sometimes ... well ... sometimes."</p> - -<p>"What happens sometimes?"</p> - -<p>"Ah, Jim, is there always to be a 'sometimes?' Why do I have always the -little stab at my heart? Is the whisperer true who says I do most of -the loving?"</p> - -<p>She heard no answer.</p> - -<p>"Sometimes I am afraid of what waits for us. And always I love you -very, very much. No, no, I am not afraid. I am now the wise woman. -Along the road my heart has come I have found the thorny places, but I -am learning to tread them with a shrug of pain and to march on where -the way opens out. There are aloes in the sweet cake of love; but let -us eat, for the spices will forget the aloes. The cook cooks well, but -he has not all the ingredients to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> hand, and they go hungry who -demand only the stars for food." Her arms found his shoulders. Her -kisses found his lips.</p> - -<p>"What an eloquent little tongue you have, girl! How can I find the -words to answer you?"</p> - -<p>"Don't talk a minute." But she herself spoke again in a little while.</p> - -<p>"Time goes by."</p> - -<p>"It does."</p> - -<p>"Two years ago we were strangers. We got along without each other. How -funny that! What did you find in me to want me? Jim, aren't you ever -going to answer to-night?"</p> - -<p>There was no answer.</p> - -<p>"Friend Jim, do cheer up."</p> - -<p>"I'm cheered up. Things are wrong to-day. I don't know why. These -things happen sometimes. My fault, no doubt. The bush is a good enough -place, girl, but it doesn't do to start thinking there."</p> - -<p>He put silence to flight by getting to his feet. "I must stand watch by -midnight. A week will bring me back again. We'll say good night here. -Good night."</p> - -<p>"Good night, Jim. Seven days are flying towards me on damaged wings."</p> - -<p>"Good night again, girl. Let your blessings follow me while I am away."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VII</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Return to Surprise</span></span></h2> - -<p>The week was beggared, and had borrowed two days from the next, when -Power came riding back to Surprise. He had left the musterers and the -cook's waggon after breakfast to find their own way home, and a steady -walk all day across the plain brought him at evening to the bottom of -the long slope of Dingo Gap, and a bare half-dozen miles from Surprise. -Man and beast had made small matter of the journey.</p> - -<p>Power came back in better cheer. Reflection stays at the fireside when -a man rides off at the heels of a mob of cattle, and Power came home -with only the recollections of a summer madness to flick his memory. A -mile of difficult travelling hid him from the crossways, and who denies -Fate sits there sometimes pointing the path to follow?</p> - -<p>Half-way up the distance, where the road swings back upon itself, and -a hurly-burly of rocks shuts the sight from climbing farther, where it -takes a good man to steer a buggy—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>there, I say to you, Power met Moll -Gregory, astride a shabby horse, face to face. She was going down and -he was going up, and they must halt their horses to divide the way.</p> - -<p>At once the old sickness returned. Leech, thou hast tinkered with thine -ointments, bring now the knife to heal. The beast was knock-kneed and -at odds with age, with a moulding saddle across its back and a sack of -goods hanging at either side. The girl was dressed in coarse stuff cut -out with poor skill on some close night by the light of a hurricane -lamp. A big hat, sitting on her head like a roof, spoiled the fury of -the suns; yet that beauty found full forgiveness for the shabby setting.</p> - -<p>The horses waited side by side, and Moll Gregory sat an arm's -length away; but the nearness cost her no effort, and she looked up -unconcerned. The frown left Power's forehead.</p> - -<p>"Hullo, Mister; back again?"</p> - -<p>"You are well loaded up," he said. "Two tucker bags full to the throat."</p> - -<p>"I get the tucker now. Mum and me reckon to keep Dad home if we can. -He's too much trouble when he gets a drop into him."</p> - -<p>"It's a long way round by the Gap."</p> - -<p>"It makes a change."</p> - -<p>"How has the show turned out?"</p> - -<p>"A1. But dad isn't over fond of a shovel.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> He's took up with the wire -strainer again, and says there's heaps of money in it when it gets -going. You should hear him and mum on at it of a night." She laughed. -Her voice was charming when no words defiled it. She waved the flies -away and lifted her hat a little. She may have thought Power looked at -the hat overlong, for she said: "It isn't great shakes, is it?"</p> - -<p>"Better than getting burnt up."</p> - -<p>"The suns have took longer than I remember doing me harm. Anyway there -wouldn't be many to growl if I was spoilt. Maybe a gum-tree or two by -the river, or old Bluey the dog might see a change. There's none else -to take notice."</p> - -<p>It was for Power to come forward with the compliment; but she received -silence for her pains. She pouted charmingly as a child might do.</p> - -<p>All the moods sat in her eyes, and a hurry of passions, grave and gay, -waited on her ready lips. Had she been a little older, or read another -page of life, she might have understood those silences, and taking -pity, have set her horse upon the road. But she looked across to say:</p> - -<p>"I reckon you don't take much account of looks in a girl." She failed -again. A third time she tried. "Others do."</p> - -<p>"I see," he said. He pushed a hand across his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> face, for the flies held -high festival that afternoon. "We didn't leave you lonely when we rode -off?"</p> - -<p>"No," came with a toss of the head. "All men aren't like you, Mr. -Power. Some knows a neat ankle, though it takes the best part of a -dozen mile through the bush to find it."</p> - -<p>"And this bold knight, is he young and charming?"</p> - -<p>"No, he isn't. He's fat, and sweats when he walks. But he knows how to -talk a girl round, and he calls me his Princess."</p> - -<p>"Then it is a royal courtship on both sides." She did not understand. -"King is your courtier," he said. "I'm glad we didn't all forget you." -There fell a little pause and his forehead wrinkled up. Then he said -earnestly: "Answer me, girl. I am not asking for nothing. Mick O'Neill -is in love with you. Do you mean to run square with him; or is he to be -the dog barking up the tree, and the 'possum not at home?"</p> - -<p>She showed a flash of temper for the first time.</p> - -<p>"My name is Moll Gregory, my address is North Queensland, and I am not -telling what I do to every feller stopping me on the road."</p> - -<p>But she met her better at this business. Power broke in on top of her. -"He is a good man, and he'll play you straight, whether you play him -straight or don't. He is my friend, that's all." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> - -<p>The anger went out of their faces. Power was searching for something to -say, but she was the quicker.</p> - -<p>"I'm not going to quarrel with you yet," she said, her head to one -side. "It's too dead dull on the river to start scaring blokes away. -When will you come along for another look at the show? Dad's done a bit -you know there. He's dotty on the wire strainer. That's what has slowed -him up. What about to-night?"</p> - -<p>"Not to-night. Another day. To-morrow, if you like."</p> - -<p>"To-night."</p> - -<p>"Not to-night."</p> - -<p>"To-night," she said again, frowning.</p> - -<p>"To-morrow."</p> - -<p>"I reckon you don't have too many manners, Mister. A girl don't say -to-night too often, you know."</p> - -<p>"I——oh, why won't to-morrow do?"</p> - -<p>"Very well," she said, much put out and taking no trouble to hide -it. "I'll talk to meself to-night while mum and dad fights over the -wire strainer. Only I reckon a girl don't feel too good when she says -to-night and a feller says to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"Then to-night it is."</p> - -<p>The smiles ran all about her face. "That's a promise, Mister?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And early?"</p> - -<p>"Not too late."</p> - -<p>She leaned a little out of the saddle, with her dainty teeth just -apart. "They say you are a smart man among cattle, Mister."</p> - -<p>"That's good news."</p> - -<p>"It takes a quick man to be a daddy stockman, don't it?"</p> - -<p>"It does."</p> - -<p>"Then I reckon all your quickness has gone into cattle," she answered, -and broke into another peal of laughter, and flicked the old horse -awake, and so passed on down the road.</p> - -<p>Power drew his reins together and finished the journey up the hill. -You look upon a very fair prospect from the summit of Dingo Gap; long -lines of hills lifting broad bosoms to the sky; far behind on the -plain the broad belt of the river; ahead the broken pathway dipping -downward to Surprise. Power was short-sighted that evening, and waiting -up there to breathe his horse he fell into a brown study, and looked -from a pinnacle of his soul down a valley long as the roadway of Dingo -Gap. Mayhap he called himself turncoat, wearer of any man's livery, -weathercock to flap wings to every wind; sufficient it is, he left his -thoughts presently, for the day grew old, and by sunset he had ridden -into the beginnings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> of Surprise. With a nod here, a good day there, he -passed to the stable and spent the last minutes of daylight serving his -horse. That matter to his mind, he turned steps towards the house.</p> - -<p>Maud Neville sat before the house alone. At his coming, she jumped up -in great good spirits. He guessed she had counted on the meeting, for -she wore a dress he had noticed once. Yet he must remark the wear and -tear of summer on her face, and fall out of humour at his own keenness -of sight. He did his best to meet her mood. "Back once again," he -called out.</p> - -<p>"You owe us two days," she answered. And next she cried: "Jim, Jim, I'm -so glad." She left the kisses she had waiting for him till later on, -as Messrs Boulder and Niven took the evening against the store across -the way, pipe at mouth, the tail of an eye cocked for whatever might go -forward.</p> - -<p>Standing there at the doorstep of the house Power became suddenly -aware that he had to his credit a long day's ride, and that he was -tired. The cries of the crickets and other evening insects entered -his consciousness, and with surprise he remarked the afterglow of the -sunset, and realised night would fall in a few minutes. This slight -fatigue affected him suddenly and strangely. He saw with new vision the -pure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> soul of the woman who waited now ready to receive him. Always -she met him with open hands, whether he came in good humour or in bad. -She bore the tiring summer days without repining, and, more than that, -from the daily course of affairs extracted a philosophy of life. He was -tired after the day's ride, and here she stood desiring only to banish -his fatigue by her ministrations. She had had her own day's work, but -that was unremembered. She had learned that giving was more profitable -than taking. He saw how often he hunted the shadow and missed the -substance.</p> - -<p>The cries of the insects began again while the afterglow faded in -the sky. The promise he had made an hour since came to mind. He bent -his brows at thought of it. Well, it was given now. It must be kept. -Maud was leading the way into the house, and he was following her -mechanically. In the dining-room a table was laid for one person. -The cloth was clean; all was ready to hand. She had done this on the -chance of his coming to-night. This joy of service was love. And he too -claimed to love. Yet he had put himself out little enough when all was -said and done—came much when he wanted, went much when he wished. What -a good woman she was, yet he always had to be telling himself this. -He was one of those heavy-eyed dullards who would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> not believe in the -butterfly because the chrysalis was a poor thing.</p> - -<p>What was happening this evening that he was for ever dreaming? He -had often enough been a bit tired; but it had not caused melancholy. -Why shirk the point? The child on the road had moved him beyond all -experience. She had put a torch to his thoughts. She had seemed an echo -of all lovers who had tripped down the corridors of time.</p> - -<p>"Wake up, Jim! You are tired, poor boy."</p> - -<p>"I have been at it all day. Give me something to eat."</p> - -<p>"See, we expected you. While you wash I shall have it all ready."</p> - -<p>He left the room, and a minute or two later he found the meal waiting -for him, and she in a seat opposite, elbows on table, hands making a -cup for her chin, her face gay and full of fondness. "Sit down, Jim, -and begin at the beginning."</p> - -<p>He went through his examination, and at the same time made a good -supper. He received a shake of the head or a nod, a pout or a frown -according to the telling of his story.</p> - -<p>"Jim, do you know what I did this morning? I woke up very early and -found there had been a sudden change in the night. Quite a cold breeze -was blowing. I had to get up at once. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> couldn't help myself. When I -was dressed I called out to father I was going for a ride, and went -looking for old Stockings. It was breaking dawn, and sharp enough to -remind you of winter. Stockings was quite lively for an old fellow. I -went straight out into the plain past the Conical Hill. The sky was -growing brighter all the time. The birds were singing as if it were -winter, and the hoofs of Stockings rang out clear. Plenty of kangaroos -were abroad, and one old man stood up and refused to budge as we went -by. I pushed on across the plain as long as the sunrise lasted, looking -back now and then to see I wasn't losing Conical Hill. The cold stayed -until the sun was over the horizon, and then I turned Stockings round -and began to walk home. I was thinking that forty, fifty or sixty miles -away you had seen this same sunrise, and felt the same cold in your -bones. I understood then how much the life meant to you, and why you -were always ready for a muster or a journey down the roads with cattle. -Jim, I think a man working abroad has a better chance of reading life -straight than a girl who belongs to the four walls of a house. A man -must be a dunce to stay untaught by a morning like to-day. What's -making you frown?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not frowning, and I don't think you are right, Maud. When all is -added up, a woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> sees her way surer than a man. A good dog has the -best religion. He serves his master through fair weather and foul—he -heels the cattle in season, he chews his bones in season, and takes -his kicks in season. He knows the art of ready service. A woman comes -next for quick learning; but a man doesn't find the right way without -hurt.... Maud, I have something to say. I want you to understand -it now. The best man is ill put together. He may be brave, but he -runs crooked in his dealings. He may be good at heart, and a pair of -stranger eyes turn him off the course. Listen, girl ... if things ... -well if ever I turn defaulter, put all of me in the scales, and maybe a -thing or two will help pull the balance nearer straight."</p> - -<p>"Poor old Jim, don't talk in that heavy way! You have been too hard at -it this week. You are tired. I know of something to put you right."</p> - -<p>"Where are you going?... What have you there?"</p> - -<p>A bottle of wine was held up to him.</p> - -<p>"We have feasted the visitors since you went away. This is one of the -last. Don't tell father."</p> - -<p>"Not this time, Maud. Another day will do."</p> - -<p>"Do what you are told. Open it."</p> - -<p>He obeyed.</p> - -<p>"Fill both glasses and stand up."</p> - -<p>"What madness are you after?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I said, stand up. That's right. Now hear what I have to say." She -lifted up her glass. She stood by the light of the window, but outside -side darkness was falling fast.</p> - -<p>"Drink, Jim, for these glasses have been filled in honour of the past -as we have lived it, and of the future as it shall be shaped. The -grape ferments, and the red wine results; lovers quarrel and good -understanding is born. The orchard blossoms, the blossoms fall to the -ground, but from the boughs come forth the fruit. Love arrives with -spiced dishes, but when the meats have staled, on the table lies the -bread of life. We are learning understanding; but other pages of that -book remain for our reading. Drink to receive the clean heart, the -straight purpose, and the good comradeship which walks with those -things. Let cowardice be unknown between us. The mistake made, we will -bare it in our hands, knowing the other will understand."</p> - -<p>Who knows what Power saw in that ruddy wine drunk in the darkened room? -He pledged the toast to the end. With never a word more between them -they put down their glasses.</p> - -<p>"The others are in the verandah," Maud said to break the spell, "you -must talk to them for half-an-hour. Come along."</p> - -<p>She led the way. Darkness had fallen in a clap while he ate, and lamps -had been brought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> outside. In the distance Mr. Wells was testing his -cornet for the evening's work. From the verandah came sounds of raised -voices, and at a first look about, the place was full of people. -Neville had kept his old seat. At the other end Selwyn appeared well -off. Mrs. Selwyn and King, with Scabbyback the mangy pointer, and -Gripper the terrier, filled less important places. Somebody smoked good -cigars.</p> - -<p>The battle for supremacy between the two veterans had led to a division -of honours. Neville had won his old place handy to the waterbags -and the whisky, but Selwyn had the cigars and matches at his elbow, -and was deep down in his chair, with feet resting at a great height -against the wall, as behoved a man whose health was in a rocky state, -and no mistake about it. Mrs. Selwyn endured a straight-backed chair; -and King, who liked comfort, but who cared more for peace, was poorly -served.</p> - -<p>The talk was broken off for a moment when Maud led in Power. Selwyn -rose to smile with great charm, and later sank back into the same seat -with reluctance, apparently persuaded to keep it against his will. The -talk flowed on again.</p> - -<p>"You have wakened up since I was away, Mr. Selwyn," Maud said. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, isn't it a pest?" Mrs. Selwyn exclaimed. "We have had such a -peaceful half hour."</p> - -<p>One thing remained to Selwyn from the ruins of his wrecked health. He -could get his forty minutes' nap after a good meal. "Now, look here," -he had said in the bedroom before dinner, shaking a tobacco-stained -finger, "this absurd stand-on-ceremony is doing me harm. There was -excuse for staying awake the first night or two; but my infernal good -manners have carried things to an extreme. Now, look here," said he, -wagging the yellow finger, "when we have had dinner, sing to them, or -talk to the girl about clothes, or do something else; but at all costs -distract the family from me, so that I can get my sleep. I like hearing -the gentle hum of voices when I'm comatose."</p> - -<p>"What's your news, Power?" the old man grunted from his corner. -"Morning Springs still in the same place, I expect?"</p> - -<p>"Have you come from Morning Springs?" Mrs. Selwyn cried. "What a -desperate place! I stood there in the blazing sun half the day waiting -for the coach. The top of my head was coming off. The place was turning -round me."</p> - -<p>"Did you see anybody?" said the old man.</p> - -<p>"Milbanks was in. He says it is pretty dry out his way. Says things -won't be too good if the rains are late. Claney asked after you. He -has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> a silica show in tow. The Reverend Five-aces turned up at the -hotel a couple of nights and seemed in form."</p> - -<p>"He sounds a gentleman to keep an eye on," said Selwyn. "I think I -shall button my pockets when he comes to shrive me."</p> - -<p>"You would do better with a sixth ace in your hat," said King. "He may -be out here one day soon. He's due for a visit."</p> - -<p>"He lost a game when I was in," Power went on.</p> - -<p>"Hey!" cried the old man. "How was that, lad?"</p> - -<p>"Half-a-dozen of us were at the hotel pretty late, and he made one of -a bridge four. Upstairs a man was dying in the horrors. He had shouted -out all night—very badly. As time went on he grew quiet. Mrs. Smith, -the landlady, a good churchgoer, runs into the room presently. 'Mr. -Thomas, there's a man upstairs very sick. He's dying, Sir, or I'll -never live to tell another. Come upstairs, Mr. Thomas, and lend him the -comforts of the Church.'</p> - -<p>"Five-aces looks at her, and looks at his hand with the king and queen -there and all the royal family, and he fingers his chin and says, -'There's no call for this fluster, Mrs. Smith. He has a pretty strong -voice still. There's no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> call for an hour or two. Maybe I'll take a -look that way when we've played out the rubber.'</p> - -<p>"Half an hour later Mrs. Smith comes in again in great bustle. Oh! Mr. -Thomas as true as I mean to go light through Purgatory, he cannot last -much longer. I tell ye he'll be gone if ye wait.'</p> - -<p>"'Mrs. Smith,' Five-aces then says very short, and frowning down his -chin. 'I have every card to my hand. Your business will keep as long as -the rubber, it's my belief.'</p> - -<p>"Presently Mrs. Smith comes in again. Old Five-aces looks very black. -'It's no good, Mrs. Smith, I have just gone "no trumps." I shall get a -"little slam" out of this.'</p> - -<p>"'Ye needn't put yourself about, Sir,' says she. 'There's been a "grand -slam" upstairs.'"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Selwyn shuddered. "Mr. Power, how could you tell such a horrible -story. I feel most unwell."</p> - -<p>"I am sorry, Mrs. Selwyn. I won't offend again."</p> - -<p>"I pray the creature stays away until I'm gone."</p> - -<p>Neville chuckled again in his corner. "You would find him charming -until you sat down to bridge. Many is the yarn we have had over a -whisky. He can tell the best story for a hundred miles round. Maybe -better men could be found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> to pilot the soul to Heaven, but he can -claim always to be at the pilot's post, and that's the Bridge. There's -a good one, Maud, gel. He, he! Huh, huh, huh!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Selwyn had not yet recovered. "I sincerely hope our other clergy -have a better sense of fitness," she said.</p> - -<p>Neville was having trouble with his pipe. "A parson comes round these -parts with a pack-horse or two every six months for a couple of days, -and that is as good as one can expect. He don't get two hundred a year -wages, and has to feed himself and his horses. With chaff round our -parts up to eighteen shilling a bag, I would shake my head at the job -myself. He don't get more than a dozen at his service, for half laughs -at him, and the other half, that would go, laugh too because the first -half laughs."</p> - -<p>"If he comes while we are here, I shall make a point of going," Mrs. -Selwyn said.</p> - -<p>"Hey, Power!" cried Neville, jerking his thumb. "Here's the whisky."</p> - -<p>"A good idea," said King.</p> - -<p>"Excellent," echoed Selwyn.</p> - -<p>"Father, your fight this afternoon seems to have cheered you up," said -Maud.</p> - -<p>"What fight?" Power asked.</p> - -<p>"The fellers sent Robson up to ask me to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>unlock the tanks. I put him -to the right-about pretty quick. A-huh-huh-huh!"</p> - -<p>Selwyn sat up. "Did you get much sport on your trip, Mr. Power? There -must have been some thundering good chances early in the morning. -Nobody to blunder about and disturb the game from year end to year end."</p> - -<p>"A man doesn't get much spare time with cattle," Power answered. "He -rides all day, and stands his two watches at night. He is inclined to -leave hunting for another time. The cook took a rifle in the waggon, -and got a turkey or two; but he sees double, and generally aims at the -wrong bird. We had sport of another kind, though, which might have -turned into something nasty."</p> - -<p>"Ah! How was that?"</p> - -<p>"On the border of this run and the next is a stretch of timbered -country called Derby's Ten Mile. It is a good bit of country, with -big holes holding water all the year, and Simpson, of Kurrajong, my -neighbour, keeps it as a horse paddock. For all the fine trees by the -river, the place has a bad name. You can't get a man of those parts to -camp there the night. There is a story of a swagman murdered on the -big hole by his mate twenty years ago. I believe the tale is true, -but whether or no, they say on calm nights something cries out in the -paddock. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> time the cry will sound low down, the next time it will -come from the air, and never twice in the same place. You can find a -score of men to swear to this. Simpson assured me on moonlight nights -he has known the horses stampede from the other side of the river.</p> - -<p>"A carrier I knew told me an accident to his waggon once forced him -to camp there one night. It was winter, freezing hard—as cold as the -Pole—and you could hear a horse bell a dozen miles. He was sitting -over the fire thinking of turning into bed, when he heard a queer -screech by a clump of timber a couple of miles away. 'Some blanky -bird,' he says. He had come round to thoughts of bed again, when he -heard the screech a second time, and not more than a mile off, and on -the top of it every horse came flying across the dry river bed. They -went past him as though they weren't stopping this side of the sea. In -a shake the fellow had turned colder than the frost, and he was asking -himself what was the trouble, when something shrieked at him, not the -length of a bullock team off. He felt a breath of ice in his face——"</p> - -<p>Behind the house a fowl gave a blood-curdling death-cry. Gooseflesh -rose on the spine of the bravest there. Thanks to that self-command -which had stood Mrs. Selwyn in stead on so many occasions, she -exclaimed, "What's that?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> and no more. But afterwards she owned that -for five minutes she was turning hot and cold. The cry was repeated -more faintly. Steps sounded outside, and at the same time came the -voice of Mrs. Nankervis, the cook, exclaiming out loud. Her steps -advanced in a hurry across the house. She burst through the doorway, -all wind and heavy breaths, and hands pressed to her ample sides.</p> - -<p>"Lord save us! There's a python got the yaller pullet under the house."</p> - -<p>"Python!" cried Selwyn, clapping hands to the arms of his chair. "What -size?"</p> - -<p>"Ah! Like that!" Mrs. Nankervis threw her arms out right and left. -"Twenty foot! Thirty foot!"</p> - -<p>Selwyn scrambled to his feet. "What magnificent luck!"</p> - -<p>"It don't go twenty foot, nor half it," said Neville, feeling for -his stick. "The small ones turn up now and then. The big fellows sit -tight in the bush. The pullet's gone. That's a pity. I reckoned on her -turning out a good layer."</p> - -<p>There was a pushing back of chairs. Somebody took the lanterns from the -wall. Selwyn, Mrs. Nankervis and the dogs went through the door at the -one moment. The rest of the company followed at their heels.</p> - -<p>But, beyond the light thrown by the lanterns,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> the night showed very -black, and the hurry of the party abated. The old man began to chuckle -from the rear. "Go ahead," he said. "I can see satisfactory from here. -You have got a lantern, Mr. Selwyn. Ye can get under the house. Put -the lantern round about the piles first. Unless the snake is half way -to Morning Springs, I reckon it's better to take the first look at him -from the distance. Afterwards ye can wear him for a comforter round -your neck. A-huh-huh-huh!"</p> - -<p>"Hilton, I entreat you to moderate your excitement and consider what -you are about. I don't know whether I am on my crown or my toes."</p> - -<p>Selwyn trembled with anticipation. The cigar did a step-dance between -his teeth. He seemed to grow lean before the eyes of the company. He -held forward the lantern and re-gripped his stick. Step by step he -advanced among the piles holding up the house. Bring all your eyes -to look. The hunter has gone forth to slay. Pace by pace he made his -ground. Inch by inch he obtained a more cunning hold of his staff. -Gripper, the terrier, wrinkled at the nose and very stiff at tail, -followed him to the field of battle; but Scabbyback the ancient pointer -scratched in the shadows as though digging out the very sea-serpent -itself. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Get out of that, you mangy muddler," Selwyn said, prodding him on the -way.</p> - -<p>The light from the lanterns thrust far into the shadows; and, behold, -upon a patch of sand among the piles was discovered the python heaped -in an evil mass and holding the dead fowl among his coils. Black he -showed, and dark green in places, and supple and wicked and beautiful -and fierce and fascinating and treacherous all in one glance, so that a -man must look to admire, and yet turn his head in loathing.</p> - -<p>"That's him! That's him!" said Neville. "And I reckoned he wouldn't -wait our visit."</p> - -<p>"Hilton, I implore you," Mrs. Selwyn cried. That was her single moment -of weakness.</p> - -<p>Selwyn hooked the lantern on a convenient ledge, where the light fell -in all corners of the battle-field. The python made no business of -departure, but stared at this hurly-burly from cold eyes in a shovel -head as big as a woman's hand. Forward went Selwyn to the combat, taut -and tucked up, but never a moment in doubt. All the while he talked to -himself, assuring all who cared to listen, courage and a stout right -hand must win, and that the gentle persuasion of a boxwood club at the -nape of the neck must settle the account even of the serpent of Eden.</p> - -<p>"A-ha, gently does it. Keep back, sir"—and a yelp told that Gripper -had tested the weight of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> his master's staff. "Kindly, kindly, is my -way. Bring a lantern this way—more to the right—more to the right. -A-ha, my beauty, allow me to introduce the friend in my hand."</p> - -<p>Neville wagged his head from the back of affairs. "Power, ye had better -see what he's doing," he said. "He'll be getting into mischief. That -will be a big feller when he's pulled straight."</p> - -<p>As Power stepped forward, Mrs. Nankervis ran out of the house with the -gun.</p> - -<p>"There's sense, woman," said Neville. "Hey, Power, give him this."</p> - -<p>Power put Maud in charge of a lantern, and took the gun. "That's rather -a risky business, Mr. Selwyn," he said. "He is too big for a stick."</p> - -<p>Selwyn stretched out a ravenous hand for the gun. He planted his -legs wide apart and put it to his shoulder. The great serpent, head -flattened down, stared from callous eyes. Gripper showed every tooth. -Scabbyback had found business in the distance. Mrs. Selwyn closed her -eyes and summoned all her fortitude. There was a moment when everybody -waited. A roar sounded underneath the house. The snake whipped his head -up and down again in a single movement. His coils fell apart in the -twinkling of an eyelid, and riot was let loose. Selwyn,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> scrambling -back, knocked the lantern to the ground, and the light jumped up and -went out.</p> - -<p>The python thrashed the wooden piles, embraced them, rolled free again, -knotted itself upon the ground, and fell in a writhing agony among the -hunters.</p> - -<p>"Give me the lamp, girl," Power cried out, "and get out quick."</p> - -<p>Maud held out the lamp. Power took the lamp. Power bounded back. -Something struck him across the leg. He leapt farther back. The python -in hideous pain beat at the piles and at the air. Power heard Selwyn -beside him mutter "Magnificent, magnificent."</p> - -<p>"Shoot, man; shoot!" Power cried. Selwyn raised the gun. Power pushed -forward the lantern to make best use of it. Selwyn fired point blank. -The uproar in the confined space was immense. There was a heave of the -coils. The python was blown in half.</p> - -<p>The company drew slowly near, and Selwyn fell into a grand attitude, -"A-ha," he said. "The old hand has not lost its cunning. A right and -left, and there he lies. Fifteen foot if an inch, by Jove!"</p> - -<p>Very terrible the python looked in death, torn about on the bloody sand -with muscles yet twitching. Mrs. Selwyn closed her eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> "Hilton, -every day you have less consideration for my feelings."</p> - -<p>"He'll be a fair size stretched," said the old man, poking with his -stick. "I'm sorry about that pullet. Hold that lamp straight, Maud. -Ye'll have the glass smoked. Some of you had better get this mess -cleaned before the ants come. Shall we go back to the verandah, Mrs. -Selwyn? Snakes don't get through the fly-netting."</p> - -<p>They persuaded Selwyn back to everyday, and Power and he were mourners -at the funeral. While they went about the ceremony, Maud and King -wandered a little way into the dark. They could watch the sextons going -in and out of the lamplight, Power moving quickly about the matter, and -Selwyn very full of his past performance. Their own employment—finding -seats on the warm stones—was the better one, for the night was hot, as -are most nights when you go to live at Surprise.</p> - -<p>"Have you nothing to say to-night, Mr. King? Are a cigarette and the -dark all you want these latter days? Be wise, and give up looking for -copper by Pelican Pool. I tell you gold would not be worth the labour. -Give by, give by, and gain your right mind among the ledgers over -there." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There is more reading by the Pool than in all those dreary books."</p> - -<p>"A midsummer madness has seized you."</p> - -<p>"Yet I would not find cure for my folly."</p> - -<p>"But look at your ages. A girl of twenty has done this."</p> - -<p>"The young man to the matured woman; the old man to the maid. And this -is the reason. The young man looks forward to what is to be, but the -old man stares over his shoulder at what is slipping away."</p> - -<p>"It is a fancy that must pass. You say she neither reads nor writes."</p> - -<p>"She is a lantern by whose light I read the Book of Life."</p> - -<p>"Mr. King, are you serious this time or not?"</p> - -<p>"Laugh at me if you like. I know what I am loving. She is young and -wild—a flower of these hot grounds, quick come to bloom, quick to pass -away, and without a soul, even as these bush flowers are without scent. -She should sleep upon a couch of blossoms, and go abroad crowned with -garlands; and I would play the elderly satyr and pipe her through the -summer."</p> - -<p>Power came across. The funeral was over; but Selwyn waited yet by the -grave, smoking a fresh cigar in honour of combat valiantly fought and -splendidly won. King got up, and in the talk that started walked away. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Sit down, Jim," Maud said.</p> - -<p>"Maud, I shall not be staying to-night. I'll come across to-morrow, -though."</p> - -<p>"What?" she answered coldly, and frowning of a sudden.</p> - -<p>"I've work I must fix up. I am as sorry as you are. I shall be across -to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"You have never had sudden work like this that wouldn't keep."</p> - -<p>"Maybe there won't be any again. Come, it can't be helped. I must get -away."</p> - -<p>"Good night, then."</p> - -<p>"Don't be silly, Maud."</p> - -<p>"It is useless crying when a thing can't be mended. So good night."</p> - -<p>"You'll think better of things to-morrow. Then, there it is—good -night."</p> - -<p>She kissed him coldly when he bent his head; but repenting in the same -breath, she drew him to her. "Jim, you told me so suddenly, and I am -horribly disappointed. Good luck to you until to-morrow."</p> - -<p>He had nothing to say.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER VIII</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Banks of the Pool</span></span></h2> - -<p>Power rode out of Surprise with the hag of reproach seated at the -crupper of his horse. He would have proved poor company for a wayfarer; -but fortune left him to follow the road alone, and he pushed his fagged -mount to some pace, and ate up the distance to Pelican Pool.</p> - -<p>The evening had aged when he arrived on the bank of the Pool. The -hour was ten o'clock. We woo sleep early at Surprise, for she proves -wilful mistress here, and Power believed himself too late. He heard -the whimper of the dog, and a bark checked in the throat, and then the -horse jumped under him in a difficult shy. He threw a glance into the -dark for the cause, and, lo! Moll Gregory sat at the foot of a tree as -still as the trunk supporting her. At once the hag of reproach left her -seat. Moll rose from her waiting place and came forward with a little -laugh of greeting. The jealous dark stole her countenance from Power's -eyes, but her figure defied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> its embrace, and she came up to his horse -young and careless and bewitching. He thought of a young tree starting -on its journey towards the sky. He tightened the rein, the horse stood -still, and he fell to staring down on her. Straightway he forgot time -and the ill humours of the day.</p> - -<p>"You are awful late, Mister?"</p> - -<p>"It's a long way from Surprise."</p> - -<p>"I was near giving you up, and then, Mr. Power, you would have caught -it next time we met. I'm not a girl for a fellow to say yes and no to -all the day."</p> - -<p>"But now I am forgiven, I must get down. What about the horse? There's -not a yard round here, is there?"</p> - -<p>"Dad is always talking of putting up something, but I haven't seen it -yet."</p> - -<p>"He is quiet enough. I'll hitch him here. There's the saddle to come -off. I won't be long."</p> - -<p>When the saddle stood on end at the foot of a tree, and the bit hung -loose, then Power made ready for what the hour would bring. The insects -were busy, creeping down neck and ears, and crickets kept concert in -all corners of the dark. It would grow no cooler until dawn, and soon -afterwards the sun would start up into the sky. At a little distance, -a light shone through the hessian wall of Gregory's dining-room, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> -sometimes a voice came from there. Power felt in no mood for the inside -of the place.</p> - -<p>"I have been riding all day. Where shall we sit down?"</p> - -<p>He was led to a seat by the tree trunk. They sat down a little apart. -Branches held a latticed canopy over them, and the lattice work let in -the starlit sky. The dog mooched round as company.</p> - -<p>"So you had given me up?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Mister. I'd been waiting there I forget how long. Dad and Mum -started to row when we was washing up, and I flung out of the place in -a temper. I set about a bit of fishing by the Pool. It isn't bad fun -these nights. Sometimes you get a bonza haul. But it's awful dreary -sitting by the bank alone. I don't know what's took me lately, but I -get terrible tired of things. I reckon it's since Mr. King told me of -all there was to be seen away from here."</p> - -<p>They sat in a lap of land on top of the bank, where it fell sharp to -the water, and just now a fish leapt in the shallows.</p> - -<p>"Shall we fish, Mr. Power?" she said. "The rod is down there somewhere. -They were too slow when I came out, and I gave it over."</p> - -<p>"We will."</p> - -<p>They found a roadway down the bank. They found the rod. They sat upon -the bank. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> put the rod over the water, and Power took a pipe from -his pocket.</p> - -<p>"They call you Moll, don't they? I am going to be a friend of yours. -May I call you Molly? I think it prettier than Moll."</p> - -<p>"Orl right, Mister. We won't quarrel over it. I reckon the mosquitoes -like fishing too. Do you fish ever?"</p> - -<p>"Sometimes. I shoot most when there's spare time. I like fishing -though."</p> - -<p>"Struth! Something's at me now. I won't yank yet. These fellers give a -good bite when they mean business."</p> - -<p>"Do you often come here? I've ridden by many times and watered my horse -here; I've watered a good few mobs of cattle here, too. But I never -knew how beautiful it was until I fished to-night."</p> - -<p>"Now and again I get fair sick of Mum and Dad, and then I come and fish -or take a walk along the bank. I like listening to the things that move -in the dark."</p> - -<p>"What do you hear?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, the fishes are always jumping in the shallows, and sometimes a -crocodile sticks his nose up, and times I surprise a turtle in the -sands. There's plenty of kangaroos thumping along for a drink—strike -me! Hark at that fellow." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes, he's noisy enough for an old man—Molly."</p> - -<p>"Can't you get out 'Molly' easier? There's no call to jerk your head -over it."</p> - -<p>"It was not hard to say. It lies gently on the tongue. And so you make -friends with the animals? If you are here in winter time you will find -the pelicans fishing at dawn, and spoonbills, too, as white as snow. -You have heard of snow, I suppose? It falls among the mountains down -South in July and August—Molly."</p> - -<p>"It don't come easy yet. I reckon Molly is no harder to say than 'My -Princess.'"</p> - -<p>"Does it fall as kindly on the ear as 'My Princess?'"</p> - -<p>"I like 'My Princess,' and I like Molly. I can do with two friends -since I was so long without one.... Now, what are you thinking of, -Mister? You sit staring at the Pool and sucking yer pipe. Why don't yer -talk? You are as dummy as the fishes what won't come at my hook."</p> - -<p>"I was thinking a week or two can make a queer change in a man's -fortune."</p> - -<p>"It do. Luck takes a turn times when things look dreadful hopeless. -Straight wire. I tell you I've watched the water o' nights, and thought -about settling things up. And then, like a cow to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> a new-dropped calf, -you fellows came along to liven things."</p> - -<p>"We came along one day and found you here, and now all the roads on -Kaloona run lean to Pelican Pool. Molly, do you know all you have done? -Think, Molly, a moment. Have you kind word for my friend, Mick O'Neill? -Or for Mr. King driving through the heat from Surprise?"</p> - -<p>"Good enough for them what they get."</p> - -<p>"Don't you believe in love?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Power, you are too fond of questions. I shall be giving you the -rod soon to hold. Don't you think a girl may have a bit of fun? It's -awful hard when a man likes you to tell him to clear out. Wake up, -Mister; you are awful dilly sometimes. What do you see in the water to -stare at?"</p> - -<p>"Every 'yes' spoken now will take a deal of unspeaking later on. Tell -me, are you a little fond of Mick?"</p> - -<p>"I reckon there's a bite. Look at the float, and the water rippling."</p> - -<p>"That bite can wait your answer."</p> - -<p>"He's a good figure of a man, isn't he?"</p> - -<p>"He is."</p> - -<p>"He can sit a bad horse with the next man, can't he?"</p> - -<p>"He can." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He's pretty slick through scrub, and isn't the last on the heels of a -mob. I reckon many a girl wouldn't toss her head there."</p> - -<p>"And Mr. King?"</p> - -<p>"He knows how to talk to a girl; but it don't take his fat off him, do -it? He's as old as Dad; but he's shook on me, and no error. He puffs -terrible in the sun, but he comes as often as he can. He told me there -would be something for me in a coach or two, but I said he could keep -it. First I liked a bit of attention, it had been so dull; but now I -can get as good elsewhere."</p> - -<p>"Send him gently about his business, then, for I think loving is easier -than unloving."</p> - -<p>"There's not going to be any sending about business. He can come if he -wants, and he can stay away. I know how to be not at home, and he can -try his hand talking to Bluey, the dog. Now, don't start preaching, -Mister. You can go on sucking that pipe. I'm not at the call of every -feller of fifty who gets shook on me."</p> - -<p>"Your own troubles will come one day, Molly, and you will grow a little -kinder because of them. The new boot is poor company for the foot, and -the heart grows softer with a bit of wear and tear. And so you are -ready to punish two men, and all their crime was looking overlong into -your eyes. Are only your glances kind, Molly? Have the suns of twenty -summers baked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> your little heart? Haven't you a memory or two of sorrow -stored away to make you softer now? No, don't pout."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Power, you seem uncommon interested in other people. I don't see -call for you to worry what I do. I reckon my comings and goings aren't -your concern. Mister, you can hear well from where you are. It's time -you took a hand at fishing."</p> - -<p>"Have you never found time to fall in love; or have you been too busy -saying 'no?' Molly, you were born a candle, and men will come from all -the corners, like the bush insects, to scorch in your flame. Where did -you steal your hands? A sculptor would break his chisel despairing of -them. What Paradise gave you them that the bush might stare them into -decay? Molly, Molly, you must have a soul, or what sits in your eyes -all day making men drunken?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Power, you're a poor fisherman."</p> - -<p>"Have you never loved, Molly?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe yes, and maybe no, and it's not you, Mr. Power, I'm starting -blabbing to."</p> - -<p>"Tell me."</p> - -<p>"Aw, you'd laugh."</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Straight wire?"</p> - -<p>"Straight wire."</p> - -<p>"There's nothing to tell. Some's been round<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> that I've laughed at and -sent away, nor thought nor cared what came of them. And one or two I've -liked a little. And one or two has made me cry. But when one fellow -goes, there's another to come after him."</p> - -<p>"Has a man held you in his arms? Have you ever been kissed into -kindness? What are you laughing at? Don't laugh, I say!"</p> - -<p>"Of course a girl's been kissed. I don't think ever was a time I wasn't -kissed. Why a girl would go dummy with only an old dog as mate, and -a kangaroo or two, and maybe an old goanna to watch. What are you -frowning for? My lips aren't kissed away."</p> - -<p>"The jewel that takes long getting is highest priced. Let's go back -to fishing. You have told me enough.... No, I can't fish to-night. We -might be a hundred miles away from anyone down here. Sooner or later -you will go away; but I shall never ride past the Pool again without -remembering you. I shall come here every year, when the castor-oil tree -flowers, for it was flowering when first I saw Molly Gregory standing -in the doorway of her tent, holding a lantern above her head.... Isn't -it still? The night is too close.... Molly, why are you so beautiful? -Don't you know the night is in love with you? That's why the fishes -are jumping. Don't you know the kangaroo and his mate are stooping to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> -drink down there, that they may share the same pool with you? Molly, -a man and a girl are only young once. It is all over in a few quick -years. All life to live in that time. A world to see.... Molly, wake -up. Don't look into your lap. Your rich body is spoiling. The bush -is jealous of beauty, and would claw the fairest works with her lean -fingers. Molly, wake up and live."</p> - -<p>"Aw, talk, talk, and who is the better for it in the end? I can go -back to the humpy more miserable, if that is what you want. Mr. King -comes with his grand tales, and drives off in the buggy, leaving a girl -to cry her eyes out in a room of bags. I hate the bush. I would spit -it out of my mouth, as Dad spits the suckings of his pipe out at the -door. What does the bush give you? Just gives you nothing. Never a man -or a girl to speak to. Just wash up, wash up, wash up. And carry the -water from the creek. And bail up the goats when you've got them. And a -ride to the store as a treat. And make your Johnny cake half the week, -because you haven't the heart to make bread, or haven't built the oven. -And no schooling. And not a church to go to, even if you did want to. -And just the clothes to wear as nobody will take in town. And growl, -growl, growl all day from everyone round. And if you have a few looks, -there's nobody to tell you what they think of them. Oh,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> you don't know -how sick I am of it. I fall dreaming sometimes, and think some man -comes and takes me right away. And then Mum gets on to me for mooning. -I'll get married some day to a looney boundary rider, and live in a hut -all me life, and have a pack of children, and grow as skinny as the -best of them. If I have daddy looks then I'll sell them to the first -man who'll pay me. The first man to take me away can have me, and he -can drop me when he's tired."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk like that. Don't dare to talk like that. You and I will -fall out, girl, if there's much of that spoken."</p> - -<p>"Turning parson, Mr. Power?... Listen, there's Mum. Hallo! What is it?"</p> - -<p>A voice came through the dark. "Mick O'Neill's round for half-an-hour. -Aren't yer coming in? You'll go ratty moonin' there all night."</p> - -<p>"Coming!"</p> - -<p>The spell was broken. Power forsook fairyland for everyday. Moll -Gregory and he walked towards the house through the close night. The -spikes of the grasses bent under their feet, and insects voyaging -through the dark brushed their faces. Gregory stood in the doorway of -the hut, fingering his dirty beard and talking to O'Neill. "Hullo, -Moll, got company?" he cried. "Why,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> it's Mr. Power. Come right in. -There's always a seat inside here waiting for Mr. Power."</p> - -<p>"Hullo, boss," O'Neill said, "I thought you were down at Surprise."</p> - -<p>"I promised to look in some time or other. Good evening, Mrs. Gregory; -you have late visitors to-night."</p> - -<p>The company found seats in the mean room, which was hard taxed to serve -everybody. There was no change in the place since Power had gone away. -On the rough table stood the wash basin. The shelf at the back held the -crockery. The boxes stood on end for seats. The wire strainer and the -potato digger lay in the corner. Power took all in as he filled his -pipe again.</p> - -<p>"I reckon you make the old place lively dropping in like this," Mrs. -Gregory began, looking from one to the other, and leering at Gregory -when the time came. "Dad was saying you had been a long while away, and -must be hitched up on the road."</p> - -<p>"Things went like wedding bells," said Power. "We put in a couple of -days at Morning Springs. That kept us."</p> - -<p>"A bit of a spree?" questioned Gregory.</p> - -<p>"We are respectable men on Kaloona."</p> - -<p>Mick O'Neill had sat down, pushing his spurred feet in front of him -across the room. He had brought a new shirt on his back and had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> -dressed his legs in clean trousers, belted with a bright knotted -handkerchief. A hat with a gay dent in the crown had fallen upon the -table. He had arrived pleased in advance with what might befall, a -laugh prisoned in his mouth, a merry word harnessed to his tongue. He -sat there, a man forgetting the past where the present was kind; a good -fellow who must quicken the heart of any man or woman. Maybe so thought -Power, who lost little of what went round.</p> - -<p>"Things aren't much changed here, are they, Mr. Power?" said Gregory in -a minute or two. "A man don't feel much like putting a house ship-shape -at night after a day's shovelling. That show has got me beat. Gone down -into rock now."</p> - -<p>"It's time I kept my promise of a hand," said Mick. "I reckoned for you -to be half way under the river."</p> - -<p>"No buyers since we were away?" Power asked.</p> - -<p>"Mr. King still has it in his eye; but it's gaff, and he has found a -better show than mine. A-haw, haw, haw! A-haw!"</p> - -<p>"We've missed you gentlemen since you went," Mrs. Gregory followed up, -looking hard at the visitors. "Haven't we, Moll?"</p> - -<p>"Dunno. What's this, Mick? Did you bring along your music? Good lad!" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> - -<p>O'Neill picked up an accordion from the floor. "You said you liked a -bit of fun. I thought to knock a tune or two out later on."</p> - -<p>"That's what we want here," cried Gregory very loud. "Do you think you -could find mine, mother; or was it broke up?"</p> - -<p>"Have a look in the tent. It was under the stretcher last."</p> - -<p>In a little while Gregory came from the tent blowing the dust from his -accordion, and the rest of the evening passed on speedy heels with -song and tune and dance. The dust was kicked out of the earth floor -by stepping feet, and sounds of "hurrah" startled the elderly night. -Faces flushed; voices grew loud. Gregory swung on his box, opening and -closing his arms, knocking the sweat from his forehead, and sending -abroad his "A-haw." Mrs. Gregory grown amiable watched from the back, -and busied herself presently boiling a kettle of water.</p> - -<p>Power left the hut for the homeward road ere the merrymaking was worn -out. The music followed him through the dark, as he saddled and bitted -his horse. He had made ready soon, and had turned the beast home. A -soft bed waited him at Kaloona instead of the couch of grasses that -had been his portion for the week. But maybe he was to sleep no better -because of it.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER IX</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">How the Days pass by at Surprise</span></span></h2> - -<p>Every day of the week, at fall of dark, I grope my way here into -my tent at Surprise, light the hurricane lamp, hook it to the beam -overhead, find paper and pen, and spur myself to the telling of a page -more of this story. Sometimes a timid breeze comes through the doorway -to cool the rising temper of the night; oftener the tent walls droop on -their wooden framework; and neither pipe nor cigarette will bring me -cheer.</p> - -<p>The night wears on; the mosquito sharpens his appetite, and a fringe -of the great army of flying things which moves abroad in the dark, -flutters, jumps and creeps in at the doorway to the light. By half-past -eight the attack has begun. Crickets in sober grey coats, black-banded -on the legs, lead the advance; large crickets and small crickets. Great -green grasshoppers follow; long and narrow grasshoppers, broad and -deep-chested grasshoppers. Purple grasshoppers arrive on their heels; -and now they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> come, large and small and in all habits. At nine o'clock -they cover the ceiling, staring at the lamp with big stupid eyes; and -strange moths and flies and flying ants have begun the Dance of Death -about the globe.</p> - -<p>Tilt back the chair; find the towel; neck and ears must be covered for -the rest of the sitting. When the clock shows half-past nine, pack up -the papers again, and step to the doorway awhile that contemplation may -bring better humour. Then to bed.</p> - -<p>At last my story is well begun, and a few days must wear out at -Surprise and Kaloona before the tale moves much forward again. The cook -puts the pot to boil. Little is to show when the lid first is lifted -but the water is heating nevertheless.</p> - -<p>Power came riding into Surprise now and again, and little he seemed -altered, unless his temper had grown crotchety. The camp endured at -Pelican Pool. Maud Neville went about the day's work as before and, if -she was troubled ever so little so that she rose in the morning with -a faint clutch at her heart—well, few at Surprise are without their -crosses. Mr. Horrington, clambering off his stretcher, rather rocky -in the morning, finds his eye filled with the wood-heap at the back -door and a blunt axe standing by the wall, and hears Mrs. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>Horrington, -clinking a billycan, crunch behind him along the path to the goat pen. -Few would believe how unwell a man can feel at half-past six in the -morning with a poor night's sleep behind him, and a wood-heap at his -elbow.</p> - -<p>Come morning then, come night; come laughter, come sorrow—the day's -work goes forward. Saturday brings the coach bumping from Morning -Springs. Monday, eight o'clock, hears the whistle beginning again the -week. Shabby little camp set down in the wilderness, yours is the soul -of the drudge, who finds brief time for singing at her labour, who -finds still less time for tears.</p> - -<p>On Monday mornings they do the washing at Surprise. Mrs. Bullock, brisk -and brawny, sitting up in bed to rub her eyes, nudges Bullock from his -last ten minutes' sleep.</p> - -<p>"Don't forget the copper, dad. Yer left me with two sticks last time. -Yer don't expect a woman to swing an axe as well as wash and bake and -run after you from morning to night."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Niven, dyspeptic and dolorous, wakes Niven with her high-pitched -tones.</p> - -<p>"Is it going to be the same this week? What does it worry you if a -woman kills herself at the tub while you snore there all day? Look at -Boulder, Bloxham and Bullock bin up half-an-hour, I reckon, runnin' -round for their wives.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> And women come to me and say—'My! Mrs. Niven, -you looks very poorly lately,—and I got to say the heat has took -me dreadful, but it's runnin' after you, lifting tubs of water, and -scratching on a wood-heap for wood that isn't there that done it."</p> - -<p>Boulder, Bloxham and Johnson are rising up elsewhere.</p> - -<p>Through the morning is great bustle and to-do, a filling of pitchers, -a lifting of buckets, a running in and out of the sun to open-air -fireplaces, a prodding of clothes in coppers with sticks, wringings, -beatings, rinsings, re-wringings. The morning is gone as soon as begun.</p> - -<p>By noonday whistle the clothes are spread on line and bush and fallen -log; and Mrs. Bullock, Mrs. Niven and Mrs. Boulder, rather short of -breath, and distinctly short of speech, are dishing up the dinner -a minute or two late. Coming home from the mine it is well to be -discreet. Sitting down to lunch at Mrs. Simpson's bush boarding-house I -talk very small on these occasions.</p> - -<p>The wash dries early at Surprise and by three o'clock Mrs. Bullock, -Mrs. Niven and Mrs. Boulder are abroad again plucking the strange -things down. When the whistle blows at five o'clock the irons are put -by and the heaviest day of the week is over. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> - -<p>On Mondays they wash, and on Mondays by another law, the men go forth -in clean clothes. If you are one to notice such things, you can tell -the week in the month by the shirts going to work. Mr. Carroll, -timekeeper, is especially regular this way. First and third Mondays -bring him to the office in blue tie and white trousers with an iron -mould in the seat; second and fourth Mondays show him in spotted tie -and blue trousers weary at the knees. Simpson, the butcher, clips his -moustache every first Sunday in the month, and changes from a man of -walrus appearance to a brigand with shabby brown teeth.</p> - -<p>But every day of the month the single boot-last of Surprise is in -demand, as one or other person sits down with a pair of half-soles from -the store to patch his boots against the ill-humours of the stones.</p> - -<p>Now and then of a morning, between breakfast wash-up and the midday -cooking, Mrs. Bullock, Mrs. Niven and Mrs. Simpson slip across to the -store for a packet of this or that, and any news that may be running -round. It happens often that luck chooses them the same ten minutes; -and Mrs. Boulder and Mrs. Bloxham may be passing by just then. Mr. -Wells, storeman, agile and anxious, very quick at a piece of news, very -slow at totting up an account,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> puts hands wide on the counter and -gives a brisk "Good morning. Turned dreadful hot, Mrs. Simpson. Looks -like summer come at last."</p> - -<p>"It do," says Mrs. Simpson, casting an eye about the place.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Bullock, leaning far across the counter, takes a look behind the -scenes; and Mrs. Niven, standing a little out of the press, lifts her -hat upon her head, drops it down again and makes speech.</p> - -<p>"I was took bad agen last night before bed. This is no place for a -woman, I tell you that short. I'll take another box of pills, same as -last."</p> - -<p>"All gone, Mrs. Niven," says Mr. Wells, bringing his hands off the -counter with a jump and shaking his head. "Not a box or bottle of -medicine nearer than Morning Springs. The last lot was very popular. -There'll be something else with the next team sure."</p> - -<p>"You never do have a thing in when it's wanted; that's speaking -straight," joins in Mrs. Boulder, leaning farther over the counter. -"I'll have that packet of spices down there. It's the last there is, I -dare say, and a pound of tea and two of matches, and that's all."</p> - -<p>"Good morning, Mrs. Bloxham. Good morning, Mrs. Boulder." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Good morning. Good morning. Good morning."</p> - -<p>"I was took bad agen last night before bed," says Mrs. Niven, "and now -I come here and find not a dose of anything in the store. This is no -land for a woman, I say, and I've said it before, and I wouldn't be -surprised if I say it again."</p> - -<p>"Well, Mrs. Boulder," says Mrs. Simpson, "is it true Mr. Regan won't -give Kerrisk any bread since they had the row two day back? I heard -something about it, but couldn't make a story of it. Seeing that you -came across that way, I thought you might have heard."</p> - -<p>"Small things don't worry me," says Mrs. Boulder, of stately and severe -aspect. "Live and let live when you're out these ways is what's to do. -I heard something last night of someone here that would be a shame to -repeat."</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Boulder?" comes the chorus.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Wells, when it comes to my turn I'll have five of sugar and a pair -of bootlaces, and see that it's a better pair than last. They didn't -stay whole two days," continues Mrs. Boulder.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Boulder, what was that you heard tell?"</p> - -<p>"It would do better with keeping, Mrs. Simpson. Mr. Wells, that was a -beautiful tune you played last night. Yes, Mrs. Simpson, my news would -do better with keeping, but we're all friends here. Well I heard say -Mr. King over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> at the office there was doing a deal too much running up -and down to the river lately. It don't take much guessing to know what -that means."</p> - -<p>"Quite likely, Mrs. Boulder. And he isn't the only one, I dare say. -Leaving him, what do you reckon brought them two at the house up to -these parts for? Selwyn the name is. Come from Melbourne, I hear. I -heard say he was one of the heads of the Company, though I wouldn't go -much on him doing a day's work."</p> - -<p>"No need, Mrs. Simpson. That sort only wear white collars and sit round -a table and talk big. Mrs. Nankervis, the cook up there, told me he and -Mrs. don't hit it off, not a bit. She says it's a fact."</p> - -<p>"When is the girl and Mr. Power from Kaloona comin' to a point? He's -kept her waiting long enough."</p> - -<p>"They say he's not too keen, but she's keeping him to it."</p> - -<p>"There's no telling, Mrs. Bloxham. The old man would find a change -looking after himself. I wouldn't be surprised if he looked round on -his own account then. They say he was pretty gay thirty year back. Back -for home agen, Mrs. Boulder? Good morning to you. My turn now, Mr. -Wells."</p> - -<p>They open up the office between eight and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> nine of a morning, and Mr. -King, accountant, pushes up the window before finding his seat behind -the table at the far end; while Mr. Carroll, timekeeper, a mild elderly -man, takes the broom from behind the door and meekly strokes the floor -from end to end. He, too, then finds his seat. The day's work begins -pleasantly, with not undue wear and tear, as is the genial custom at -Surprise. The satisfying swish of ledger pages and the scratch of -pens are all the sounds to wake the spiders in their webs in the high -corners.</p> - -<p>But ruder sounds will break that cloistral peace. Old Neville, stick in -hand, the first pipe of the day in his clutch, steps down that way from -breakfast on most mornings of the week as a start on the daily round.</p> - -<p>"Hey!" cries he, waving his stick in at the doorway of a sudden, "What -sawn timber have we on hand?"</p> - -<p>Mr. King, at his ledger at the far end, thinks a long moment and makes -answer. "They had the last from the store a week ago. There's nothing -on the place until the next waggon is in."</p> - -<p>Half-way down, Mr. Carroll, at his time sheets, feels his chin and -deprecates the whole affair.</p> - -<p>"There's not a team due for three week. Someone is a fool on the lease, -and he'll not be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> far from here. You'd have the place stuck up between -the lot of you."</p> - -<p>"I made a memo we were running out a month back," says Mr. King, very -even tempered, and twisting his moustache a little. "They have got -through that last lot very soon."</p> - -<p>"Robson is a fool," breaks in the old man, wagging his head and coming -into the office. "I'll put him to the right-about pretty quick one of -these mornings. Goodness! Look under the shelf there. You've a colony -of white ants come. Ye'd have the place eaten down. Carroll, get the -kerosene, and give it them right away. Are you on anything that won't -keep, King? I'm going underground in a few minutes. Ye might come along -and see what's become of that sawn timber. You'll find Mrs. Robson has -told Robson to board her kitchen with it. I'll have it up agen, if I -handle the crowbar myself. I may be wrong, huh! huh!"</p> - -<p>"It gets hot early in the morning now," says Mr. King, rising slowly, -and leaning across to the wall for his hat.</p> - -<p>When you take the left-hand pathway at the office door, which leads -towards the poppet-legs standing up stiff half-a-mile away, and the -firewood stacks near the engine-house—when you take this path, you -begin to pass by much of interest. Mrs. Boulder camps here, and stands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> -at her doorway to remark who goes down the red path. Beyond her camp -two bachelors, beneath a sheet of calico on poles. Two stretchers stand -there, two boxes for seats, and among some ashes outside is a forked -stick thrust into the ground on which a billy hangs.</p> - -<p>Farther on—and on the right hand—Mr. Pericles Smith, travelling -schoolmaster, occasionally pitches his tent for his monthly stay. By -six or seven o'clock of an evening, after tea has been cleared away, -he sits in the first tent for all the world to see, getting forward -with his monumental work on the aboriginal languages of Australia. -Sometimes, indeed, he is otherwise employed.</p> - -<p>"Did you remember about the currants when you came by the store?" says -a woman's voice.</p> - -<p>"That must be indeed delightful, dear," murmurs Mr. Smith, turning over -the page.</p> - -<p>"You might listen sometimes. I said, did you——"</p> - -<p>"Instantly, dear."</p> - -<p>"I said, did you——"</p> - -<p>Mr. Smith leaps from his seat on the box. "What is it? What is it? What -is it? Goat in or out? Kettle on or off the boil? Wood chopped or wood -not chopped? Here I am. What was it? What is it? What will it be? Let -us do it all now before I sit down again." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You are so disagreeable lately, dear. I hardly dare speak to you."</p> - -<p>Mr. Smith closes his eyes. "What is it?"</p> - -<p>"I said, did you remember the currants?"</p> - -<p>"A bar of soap, a packet of candles, three pounds of rice, and currants -if they have them. No, dear, I forgot, but I shall do so shortly." He -finds his seat again, wearily. "I was at the most important place in -the chapter. Now I must find the threads again."</p> - -<p>Silence falls. "I think from the look of the sky there's going to be -another hot day to-morrow, dear."</p> - -<p>"I have done so, I am doing so, and I am about to do so again," murmurs -Mr. Smith, putting out a hand for Mathew on "Eaglehawk and Crow."</p> - -<p>Farther yet along the road there stands a house of hessian roof and -walls—of a moulting appearance, and yet faintly genteel as houses are -considered out this way. It stands a little apart and a little up the -hill as though it has not grown used to the vulgar neighbours of the -hollow. Within are two rooms with floors of earth beaten flat; but the -path, beginning at the doorway, is paved with red stones. There is a -pen built of wooden palings at the back, where a goat despairs out loud -all night, and near it the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> clothes-line sags from tree to tree waiting -for the throat of the foolish. They hang the washing at the back of -this house, lest Philistine eyes spy upon it.</p> - -<p>Morning by morning, about nine o'clock, Mr. Horrington, general agent -of Surprise, may be found on the red stone path in his shirt sleeves, -blinking eyes in the sunlight. It would seem he finds the new day less -depressing thus begun. An ungracious liver, a treacherous purse, an -invalid wife and Surprise to look on through the year—these things are -not pleasant to reflect on when a man has left fifty behind some years -ago.</p> - -<p>Every morning Mr. Horrington stands here blinking in the sunlight while -the weakly tread of Mrs. Horrington in the kitchen jars unkindly on -reflection. Every evening he stands here while the sun goes down, a -little melancholy, it may be also a little muddled in thought. To hear -once more the shuffling of Mrs. Horrington must surely not sooth a -spirit on edge. If women can spin out work through a whole day, is it -good taste insisting a man should know it?</p> - -<p>He stands on the red steps when Mr. Neville and Mr. King go by at -nine o'clock of the morning, blinking, very drooped at the moustache, -hunting up a full pipe of tobacco from the corners of a pouch.</p> - -<p>"Hey, Horrington, no business this morning?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> and Mr. Horrington, -waking, finds his hat and stick and joins the walkers at the road.</p> - -<p>"You are along early to-day, Mr. Neville, and you too, Mr. King. I -discover I have run a bit short of tobacco until I can find the time to -get down to the store. How about a pipeful? Thanks, Mr. King. It is a -pleasure to taste again the stuff you smoke. What they sell here comes -hard on a trained palate."</p> - -<p>Old Neville brings his head round to listen.</p> - -<p>"It's an extraordinary thing about women," goes on Mr. Horrington, -planting his stick in the dust as he marches, and keeping his eyes on -the toes of his boots which lean up in sympathy. "It's an extraordinary -thing, which you must have noticed, that a woman will give you a -hammer and a couple of odd-sized nails, send you to the wood-heap and -say—'Produce me Saint Paul's Cathedral.'"</p> - -<p>"Did you ever do it for them?" says the old man. "How's your wife? -Is she standing the heat better this year? Maud will be along this -afternoon, she was saying."</p> - -<p>"My wife will be glad to see her. She gets too lonely there with me -engaged away all day. I don't think she is going to be a bit better -this year than last. Every day she finds a new complaint. Last night -she had a pain in the back brought on by the washing. Mrs. Niven -gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> her some iodine, and I painted her before bed. This morning she -says she can taste the iodine. Really, I have sympathized myself to a -standstill."</p> - -<p>You reach the first of the firewood stacks, and as you shun it on the -right, a path leans to the left hand to the main path and wanders a -little downhill and across the flat to the hotel. Along this path Mr. -Horrington branches every morning.</p> - -<p>Mr. Robson, underground manager, stands by the engine shed, scratching -his chest reflectingly with a slow, lank hand. He is tall and narrow -and dreary-looking, with a big round hat like a halo on his head, and -a lean tuft of beard at his chin. He comes to life with a jerk as Mr. -Neville and Mr. King round the corner of the firewood stack.</p> - -<p>"Mr. King says you had the last of the sawn timber a week back, and -there's not another foot of it on the place. What have ye done with it, -man?" shouts Neville from the distance.</p> - -<p>Mr. Robson grows taller and leaner, and jerks his body at many angles -and plucks his beard, and nearly stirs himself to anger and immediately -grows meek again. "That's gone re-timbering the bottom of the shaft. -There's a lot of work done there, and there wasn't much timber." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There was timber, I tell you. Mr. King says so too. You let the men -take it from you to build their camps with. You are a fool. You'll have -to wake up. Look at that feller in the engine house! If he goes on -spilling grease like that he'll have the Company bankrupt."</p> - -<p>"Mr. King," says Mr. Robson, as the old man trots round the engine -house wall, "I won't be spoken to like that. I've stood enough of it, I -have. Mr. Neville will have to choose his words better from now on, or -things will be doing. One more word like the last from him and——"</p> - -<p>"Hi, Robson, what's this? Gracious, man, were you born with eyes shut?"</p> - -<p>"Coming, Mr. Neville," cries Mr. Robson, crumpling up into a run.</p> - -<p>And so the day wears on at Surprise; and the seven days go round and -make the week; the four weeks add up into the month. Seven summer -months and five months of winter walk in close procession until the -year has turned a circle. The cry of the new-born child may startle the -camp, and Mrs. Bullock, Mrs. Boulder and Mrs. Niven will repair to the -scene with kind hearts and right good will, that pangs may be lessened -in the hour of trial. The dead man may be laid in his red grave among -the saplings on the hill, and the clock will stop an hour that brief -blessing may be read. The birds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> sing and love make in their season. -Fever comes with burning hand in its season. And thus and thus the days -spin out.</p> - -<p>Little lonely camp, set down to war with the wilderness, not much -longer must you keep guard unaided. Presently across the plain the -first thin railway line will come, and with it will arrive timid -spirits who dared not leave such things behind. They shall make and -re-make, hammer and twist you, giving you food to grow out and out. -Your roofs shall glint in the sun, your streets shall be set with -gardens; the hum of traffic shall be your voice going up to the wide -skies. Little shabby camp, swelling presently into a great city, in the -long years which wait for you, when you have grown great and weary and -sick, it may be you will peer back into the past and covet forgotten days.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER X</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">How the Days pass by at Kaloona</span></span></h2> - -<p>The long days of early summer went by on Kaloona Station. While the -last stars were leaving the sky, Jackie, the black horse-tailer, let -down the slip-rails of the house paddock and cantered into the dusk, -whip in hand, the sound of his horse dying slowly and solemnly in -the distance. The stars would faint, the first glow of dawn would -spread behind the trees upon the river, one or two birds would tune -their throats a little while. Light would grow. Presently, advancing -horse-bells cried across the distance, Jackie's whip banged out in the -stillness, and the thud of many hoofs striking the ground rumbled from -afar. With a brave chiming of bells, the horses would come home.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Elliott, the cook, and Maggie, the maid of all other work, arose -betimes on these long days. There was much to do. Mr. Power would come -looking for breakfast; breakfast called for a lighted fire. There was -the woodbox to visit, and horrid little Scandalous Jack to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> dress down -should it be empty. Mrs. Elliott, ample and beaming, and very gay when -you knew her well, pushed her stout leg from the sheets of a morning -while the world was still grey. "Come on, Meg; it's time we was moving."</p> - -<p>The place was well awake when the sun looked over the edge of the -plain; a clatter going forward in the kitchen, the parrots whistling in -their cage by the window, the gins yabbering at the doorway of their -hut, the voices of men raised down at the yards. There Power gave -O'Neill the orders for the day, and Scandalous Jack moved everywhere, -full of importance and loud talk. The horses stood in the yard, and a -man or two went about the morning feed.</p> - -<p>Kaloona stands upon the river in a noble stretch of timbered country. -The timber shelters the homestead on three sides, and falls back to the -brink of the water. At high noon on a summer day you will find cool -places under the trees where a man may lie in fair content. There is -always a bird or two flitting among the boughs, with a bright call in -his bill.</p> - -<p>Very fair grows Kaloona by moonshine or by starshine on summer nights; -the water sleeping, the night loud with insect voices, the sound of -splashes in the shadows. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> - -<p>Summer finds it a fair spot; but winter brings it loveliness with both -hands. The breath of the frost comes down at night, and sends a man -abroad at dawn blowing his fingers, and throwing an eye to the East -for the lie-a-bed sun. It comes at last, big and red, tumbling over -the country in long jolly beams. Now in tree and bush begin the birds, -calling, whistling, crying, mocking. The pelican is pouting his breast -in the river, and the spoonbill shovels in the mud.</p> - -<p>After breakfast comes the saddling up, and many a clever rider can lose -his seat when the frost is in the air and the young horses leave the -yards.</p> - -<p>Spring is nigh as lovely. The parrot flashes his colours in the sun, -the bright-breasted finches swing in the bushes. The slim black -cockatoo sweeps overhead, and the sulphur-crest screams in the high -branches. A fair spot is Kaloona by the river.</p> - -<p>Life has ups and downs there. Much work there is to do sometimes—hard -days in the saddle, with short rations now and then, and a bed at -the end under the sky. Slack times come in their turn, when the -hours arrive empty-handed—and those first long summer days, when -the musterers had come back from Morning Springs, supplied little -employment after the bustle round in the morning. It was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> season -for a man to look about and put himself in repair; mend his whip, teach -his dog manners, patch his boots and the like. When the sun was in the -middle of the sky, and the iron roofs of the homestead and the huts -cracked out loud in the heat, a man could lie on his back and smoke a -pipe, and so find content until evening.</p> - -<p>It was never Power's way to hang about the homestead, unless work kept -him there; but some evil spell had fallen on him these latter times, -causing him to prowl at home at idle end. He grew crotchety these -days, hard to please and poorly pleased even when things were well. -There were mornings when he saddled a horse and rode over to Surprise, -returning as gloomy as he went, and again, as evening came on, he rode -away, leaving those behind him to guess his errand.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Elliott," said Maggie one breakfast, putting her hands to her -hips and talking very straight, "the boss has turned cranky of a -sudden. There's no getting yes or no out of him. It's no good to me. -I'll be letting fly."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Elliott gave answer. "Don't be in a flurry, Meg. All men are -alike. They get took that way now and then. They're as hard to get -forward sometimes as a full-mouthed ewe in the dipping yards. Don't -be too quick on him yet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> Maybe he's fell out with Miss Neville at -Surprise, and is in the sulks."</p> - -<p>Unlucky Scandalous pushed his face through the kitchen doorway. "What's -come to the boss of a sudden? He's as cross-grained as you like. Took -it out of me just now because he reckoned the place was untidy down -there."</p> - -<p>"And a good thing too," said Mrs. Elliott, turning sharp about. "If you -spent more time on the woodheap, instead of sneaking up here minding -other people's business, you might be took up less often."</p> - -<p>One morning at breakfast, when Mrs. Elliott had bustled to put -something special on the table and had not had "Good morning" for her -pains, as Power sat gloomy, despising his food and chewing thought, she -took him to task.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Power," she said, putting down a new cup of tea, and taking up a -stand before him, "what's come on you that you give up the horses and -stand twiddling your thumbs?"</p> - -<p>"There's no work outside."</p> - -<p>"That's the first time that's ever been. What are them horses doing in -and out of the yards every day, and not a leg put across them?"</p> - -<p>"It's too hot to ride about for nothing."</p> - -<p>"Nothing? The best horses in the country hanging their heads because -nothing doing? I never heard of a run which wasn't the better for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> -looking after. Do you know what they say at Surprise? They say Simpson -gets half his meat uncommon cheap, so cheap that it only takes him a -quiet ride at times when Kaloona's asleep to fill his yards for the -morning. They say he is a quicker man at hiding a branded beast than -any feller on Kaloona is at finding one."</p> - -<p>"I've heard that story. He doesn't get many, and he'll drop in in good -time."</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Elliott had her way, though, like a wise woman, she raised -no flag of victory. Breakfast over, Power found the way to the yards, -caught a horse, saddled it, took a waterbag, some midday tucker and a -whip, and rode away at a foot pace across the plain. He spent all day -in far places, leaving the homestead when the sun was low, and finding -himself several miles away from home when the sun again was climbing -down the sky. He never pushed his horse beyond walking pace, but -neither did he rest it; and many miles were put behind before the day -was done. He passed from point to point, wherever there was water or -a clustering of timber, wherever there was chance of coming up with a -mob of cattle. He knew that wide country as another man knows the floor -of his office, and when he wished kept course as the arrow flies. Once -or twice he drew taut the rein, and stared at faint prints upon the -ground; and such halt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> might bring change of direction. He spent the -middle of the day on his back in a fair clump of timber, but saddled up -again while the sun was far up in the sky.</p> - -<p>He judged it to be five o'clock at last, and he was still an hour's -ride from home. He was heated to his bones by the long journey in the -sun, the coat of his horse was curled with sweat; he was jaded, fagged -and thirsty.</p> - -<p>He took his hat from his head, and pushed it between the surcingle and -the saddle. The sun was losing strength at last; a breeze was finding -the way from the South. His shadow and his horse's shadow were growing -longer; the crickets were tuning their orchestra against the evening, -but in spite of their shrill cries, the plain, which had been hushed -all day, had grown more hushed.</p> - -<p>He looked again at the sun, which was a bare half-hour from its going -down. The red glare dazzled him, and when he dropped his eyes, the -white stones on the ground changed to blue. He looked up to get the -light from his eyes, and found he was passing under the crag of one -of those sudden hills which climb high out of the plain all over that -country. It stood above him, lofty, sheer and lonely, grass-covered for -a hundred feet of the journey, thence forward to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> the summit, piled -with immense bare boulders, carrying a few shrunken trees.</p> - -<p>Looking up, a freak of mind urged him to stand on the highest point -there. He slacked rein and got to the ground. A bush stood convenient -to hand to secure the horse. He took off the saddle, and rubbed away -the saddle mark. Then he turned for the ascent.</p> - -<p>The hill lifted up abruptly from the plain, several hundred feet -towards the sky. There was no gentle slope of beginning, and Power -began a heavy clamber over giant boulders, shabbily clad with coarse -clumps of grass. Immense fat spiders watched him from the middle of -giant webs strung from rock to rock, lizards and insects hurried in -and out of crevices, and shrill voices of crickets met him from above, -and came after him from below. The southern breeze was bolder as the -journey advanced. Half way up the steep, where the grassed boulders -ended and the bare rock began, he stood still for new breath. Already -he had gained a strange world, high out of the plain, and the horse was -far and puny, among the tumbled rocks, which broke like surf at the -foot of the hill.</p> - -<p>The summit was high above him yet. He began the journey again, using -his hands as well as feet for the last pinch. He was on top at last<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>—a -broad, flat space, where a little grass and a few bushes grew, with a -patch or two of fine sand among the tumble of rocks. On three sides the -hill fell down in steep faces, up one of which he had climbed; but to -the South it dropped sheer in a hundred foot precipice to grassed rocks -piled up to meet it. Because the sheerness of the fall fascinated, and -because that way the breeze blew steadily into his face, Power sat down -on the edge of the cliff, with the sun sinking on his right hand.</p> - -<p>He who was so used to great distances was filled with wonder and -delight. He stared from his high seat. He looked upon an ocean torn up -in storm; but it was larger than the seas of his travels. The waves -of this ocean were hills cast up from the lap of the plain, as the -sea wave is scooped high up by the rage of winds. The resemblance was -exact. The country swept up and down for miles and tens of miles, -everywhere heaping up its waves and striking them immovable as they -leant to their fall. The mellow light of evening turned the bare -pasture into ocean green. Only was lacking the grind and swish of -waters in rage. It was ocean conceived by giant mind and struck still -by giant hand.</p> - -<p>Presently, as the first wonder passed away, Power took the details -into his eye. It was not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> all green country on closer look. There were -patches of grey and patches of slate where the long sunbeams fell on -tall rock faces. There were veins of shining white quartz pushing from -the ground, hinting at unknown copper, which one day would be torn from -its hiding place. There were red patches of bare earth, which the green -seas were seeking to devour. There were greens and greener greens, but, -look ever so long, the effect of ocean remained.</p> - -<p>It was far down there to the foot of the precipice and to the top of -the rocks; and there were other rocky places infinitely farther down, -as though making part of another world. Dwarf trees sucked a living -from them, and the sunbeams stole the roughness from their face. They -would be warm to the touch. At the mouth of every cleft and cave sat -a wallaby with pricked ears and black face, performing toilet before -moving abroad for the night. Sometimes the little beast sat on a point -of rock, holding paws neatly before him, squinting at the sun and -turning suddenly to nip his back. Not one took notice of the strange -man who watched from so far above.</p> - -<p>Power was high up—high up. The tops of all those other hills were -nearer earth than he. There was nothing between him and the sky.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> Two -or three small birds, black with white tags to their tails, skimmed to -and fro overhead and twittered cheerily. Other birds were fluttering -and squabbling in the bushes, as though this hill was their nightly -bedchamber. Strange and happy thing a bird; able to choose its walks -on mountain or in meadow, able at will to breast fierce winds of high -places, or pipe a lay in gentle noontide bower. Strange and happy thing -a bird to throw care away, clap wings and seek new worlds.</p> - -<p>Power was high up—high up, and only these skimming birds between him -and the sky. He had left the world behind him when he took in hand the -climb; but like a fool he had brought his bag of care slung upon a -shoulder. He had forgotten it a minute or two when first he looked from -here; but now he found it again, full stuffed to the throat.</p> - -<p>How would this struggle end? Was he soon to perish in a tempest of -longing and self-hate? Was this thing called love? Did love stop the -clock of a man's day, and leave him to wag his hands like a dotard in -the chimney corner?...</p> - -<p>Look again and again—the idea of ocean stayed with this wide scene. -For miles and tens of miles the waters heaped and fell. He had seen the -resemblance always, whenever he looked from one of the hilltops, and -the sight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> had pleased before. Now it annoyed. Why so? Easy the answer. -Torn sails and a banging rudder—a rage of winds and a lee shore—a -frowning night and an unknown port—that was a man's life....</p> - -<p>The breeze was strong and cool up here—steady, straight-blowing from -the South. It passed across the hill and went on its way. The sun was -hurrying westward. Ah, to snatch wings from these skimming birds, and -ride with the breeze, or hurry on the heels of the sun as it brought -morning to new lands....</p> - -<p>The sun was aged and kindly now; the great country was hushed. The -birds were at their good-night hymn, the insects accompanied it from -the ground. The little furry animals below were leaping from their -dens, and stretching limbs in the warmth. Peace everywhere but in -him. Fool! there was no peace down there. The birds made glad song as -they made supper; but what of the flies they hunted down? And were -those little beasts below better off? Somewhere the dingo yawned; and -the python waited at the waterhole. They might not all return in the -morning. What was happening to the tiny things which found a world in -the grasses and under the stones? Peace? It was like some fair face -from which you tore the loveliness to discover the skull behind.... </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> - -<p>The little black birds had flown away leaving him alone there. The -other birds in the bushes had given up their squabbles. In a minute -the sun would touch the horizon, and the sky would drink of his last -glances. There would be a brief darkening before the stars leapt into -their places. But he sat on, unready of purpose....</p> - -<p>Why had he chosen to war with great forces? What was he better than a -herder of cattle, with few thoughts beyond the needs of the day? Such -terrors were gathered against him as might have assailed a prophet of -olden time, scowling at the mouth of his cavern.</p> - -<p>There was a soul in the body, or why did he deny the pleadings of the -body? There was a soul in each body which endured while its house -rusted, a light burning steadily in a chamber While a storm outside -beat and aged the walls. Yet he could not deny the body to aid the soul.</p> - -<p>His love for this young girl was like a great wind passing through a -house, clashing and clanging casements and doors. If he sheltered from -it assuredly he would perish. He would soon be ill in body as now he -was sick in mind. One hour a night he rode down to the Pool, and for -that one hour he endured the day.</p> - -<p>She was making him mad. She walked with him on tops of mountains. She -led him by the hand into cavernous places awful with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>lightnings. She -sat on the lips of Spring, dropping blossoms through her fingers. She -was a perfume from the East. She was a wine from a land of grapes. The -dreams of a world looked from her eyes. The passions of a world waited -on her lips....</p> - -<p>The sun had set and but a minute of time gone. In another such instant -darkness would have dashed a mantle round the earth, and the stars -would have leapt out of the sky. The way to the bottom was stony. He -must be home....</p> - -<p>Day had done its business and departed, and he sat wringing hands as it -rushed away. Not again—if he would call himself man to-morrow.</p> - -<p>Good-bye. It had a hollow sound. Good-bye—never again to see her. To -ride no more the road to the river. To forget October brought blossoms -to the castor-oil tree. To clap shut his ears when her voice called....</p> - -<p>The descent was rougher than the climb. Was he bruising his hands -because the day had darkened, or because dark had come down on his -hope?...</p> - -<p>Once more to saddle his horse. Once more to take the road to the Pool. -Once to say good-bye.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XI</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Parting by the Pool</span></span></h2> - -<p>Now his mind was made up, he felt weakness leave him. Trouble never -nagged when there was work to do. The horse waited to be saddled at -the bottom of the hill, which task he did with the speed of long -custom. He had chosen for the day's work the little chestnut mare which -carried him from Surprise the night he met Moll Gregory. He had chosen -well, for she was staunch and willing—without airs and fancies. Once -he turned her towards the river, she held the way like a prim Miss -travelling to school.</p> - -<p>The sky was green as he came down the hill; colour faded from it; -darkness fell upon the whole country. The stars took their places in -the sky, and began the slow turning which he had watched so many years -now that they told him the month and the hour as might a clock.</p> - -<p>The breeze had lessened to a tremble as he climbed down to the -plain, and the night clapped a warm breath upon him. Distant summer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> -lightnings flicked across the lower skies. The feet of the stepping -mare trod evenly upon the pebbles and on the bare earth. He chose her -often for the day's work because of the speed of her walk; but to-night -she seemed turned sluggard to enrage him. Yet the road was falling -behind. The hill he had climbed was far over his shoulder. The Conical -Hill of Surprise had risen on the horizon. Now the green belt of timber -was hinted at a few miles ahead. Now he saw it with distinctness. -Thought took hold of him again until he found himself in the desolate -strip of country where the floods ran in the rains. The warm night was -wrapped about him. Crickets shrilled everywhere. Several times sounded -the thump of startled kangaroos. Lightnings flickered without pause -above the outline of the hills. It seemed to him he was part of great -music working in crescendo.</p> - -<p>Here was the Pool. He knew it was the Pool; but it was too dark to -discover the waters. She lived here. He would see her in a few moments. -He would see her. He would see her in a moment. He lived through the -long day that he might see her a little while in the night. He would -see her again when this slow beast had trodden a little farther.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he grew cold with such a greediness of cold as the passion of -the tropic night could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> not appease. He had come to say good-bye. In -half-an-hour he would be moving away from the Pool, nevermore while -she lived there to ride that way. He could not do that. No, not he. He -was but a man. His shaking body was a man's body. He was unworthy to -be battleground of contending right and wrong. Not to-night. He could -not make an end to-night. To-morrow, but not to-day.... A moment ago -he rode by the beginning of the Pool, and now he passed the castor-oil -tree. The trees were breaking apart. There stood the hut and the tents.</p> - -<p>From a chaos of fancies he presently took hold upon realization. In the -doorway of the hut, looking towards him through the dark, stood Moll -Gregory. Lamplight from inside passed her and pierced the night with a -long beam. She held an empty basin in her hands. The dark was clear to -him who had ridden half-a-dozen miles through it; but she looked before -her in a puzzled way.</p> - -<p>"Is that you, Mr. Power?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Molly."</p> - -<p>He believed he shook when he spoke to her. She was a draught of water, -chilled by snows from high peaks, offered into the hands of a dying -man. How she impassioned the night with her loveliness. He would never -find her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> beauty staling, though he looked on her for ever. All the -moments of a day brought new emotions watching from her eyes, new -passions sitting upon her lips. He never knew how holy beauty might be -until he looked upon her. How the light shone on her brown hair, lying -coiled on her head and brooding round her brows.</p> - -<p>He found he had pulled up the mare in the doorway.</p> - -<p>"I've come to see you, Molly."</p> - -<p>Why did she not answer, instead of standing like that, tapping the -basin on her knee and looking first at him, and then away, and then -at him again? Did she understand at last he loved her? Another man -kneeling in homage to her. She was frowning a little bit. He found -himself dismounting. The dog, grown friendly now, came forward with -waving tail. The hut was empty.</p> - -<p>"Mum and Dad went over to the shaft a while back," she said just then. -"There's nobody here."</p> - -<p>He led the mare a little way away; tethered her; unsaddled her. She -drooped her head after the day's work. Another hour he would have led -her to drink; but now where was the time?</p> - -<p>The girl had gone indoors when he returned to the hut. She stood by -the table putting the crockery into the basin. The room was heavy with -heat. The lamp wick was untrimmed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> smoking a little and lending a -needy light. Nothing was changed.</p> - -<p>"Them is to wash up," she said.</p> - -<p>He was living again, standing thus beside her. Yet he was weary with -knowledge that he waited on her for the last time. He grew entranced -with her quick hands in the basin. She nodded her head to the dish-rag -hanging on the wall. He took it and faced her across the table, and -together they began to wash up.</p> - -<p>He knew then that whatever waited for him in the long years to be lived -before he became an old man—whether there were other women to meet -and other lands to travel—these moments he was living now would walk -with him in memory to the very shadow of the grave. That strange mood -visited him, which sometimes comes to a man, when he stands out of -himself and views the scene as onlooker. He peered into future years, -when Maud and he journeyed kindly down the road together, and the worst -wounds of this summer madness were crusted over. But he knew there -would be hours when certain winds blew, or certain scents drifted out -of the scrub, or certain words were spoken, when he must go apart a -little while until memory slept again.</p> - -<p>The mood passed as instantly as it arrived, and once more he stood -before her weary and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> miserable. She would tire of a glum face soon. -He had carried a long face lately when they walked together. Beauty -she, and he the Beast. Strangely she had passed it by. She was still -wilful and careless, yet now she had moods when she was thoughtful and -a little kind. Never was she heavy-hearted; though to-night she frowned -just a little and was as silent as himself. He heard a rattle of cups. -Within his heart—growing and growing with the moments—feeling was -in torrent, until it seemed excess in him must overflow and fill her -barren little heart. They chanced to look up at one moment from their -work—up and out at the door—and a great white star fell down the sky.</p> - -<p>"Do you know what people say, Molly? Every falling star is a soul -hurrying from earth." She shrugged shoulders with faintest movement. "I -think a man's soul dies, Molly, when hope dies. Perhaps some man's hope -has died to-night."</p> - -<p>For an instant she turned wide grave eyes upon him, then she went back -to work, moving her hands deftly in and out of the basin.</p> - -<p>"Molly, you could get along without me, couldn't you? If I had to go -away for a while and could not come back, you would not be lonely with -other friends to look after you. You have been a good little comrade -to me; but I think our friendship was not meant to die of old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> age. -You could get along without me, couldn't you—and Molly, you wouldn't -forget me just at first?"</p> - -<p>"No, Mister."</p> - -<p>"I asked you not to call me Mister. Say Jim."</p> - -<p>"No, Jim."</p> - -<p>She had finished washing up. She went out into the dark and threw away -the water. She found a second cloth, and began quickly to dry the cups -he had lingered over.</p> - -<p>"You aren't so slick to-night," she said. "You are pretty slick at this -kind of thing for a man."</p> - -<p>"I was round the run to-day. I came here from across the other side. -The Pool is shrinking fast, Molly."</p> - -<p>"The rains should be here, Christmas."</p> - -<p>"It might be a pool of love, and all the drinks men take from it shrink -its rim. Molly, are you as clever as you pretend at forgetting? If -something happens, so that I come no more to the Pool—when you go -alone to fish or when you go with others, will you remember that once -or twice you fished with me?"</p> - -<p>"You aren't to go away. Sometimes I think you couldn't."</p> - -<p>The work was done. She turned with a graceful movement of her body as -she said the last words, and was putting the cups and saucers on the -shelf, and the spoons with a rattle into a box. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Hang up the cloth, Jim, and wake up. You aren't always asleep. I heard -something about you yesterday. They say you are such a daddy man with -horses that when you camped out Brolga way, the brumbies came down from -off Mount Sorrowful to sing to you. Ah, Mister, I have got you smiling."</p> - -<p>"I'm not Mister."</p> - -<p>"Jim."</p> - -<p>Silence fell again, and once more he grew conscious of the little -sounds that accompanied the flight of time—the flutter of wings round -a lamp; the swish of a girl's dress; the cries of insects from the -dark. It was like standing by a river filled to both banks, which -swept swiftly and smoothly to the sea, and hearing the small voices of -multitudinous waters.... What did she say now?</p> - -<p>"I found them specimens this morning. They was a little higher up the -bank. Do you want to see them? They aren't far."</p> - -<p>"We went to find them the first day I came here, Molly. Do you -remember? It does not matter now. I shall remember we never found them. -Come outside. I have a lot to say to-night. It will be cooler there, -and talking is easier under the trees."</p> - -<p>Then he found himself walking among the trees. She was on his right -hand, and water<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> glimmered in the distance. Summer lightnings were -flickering in the skies. This night was as last night had been. Last -night was as the night before had been. He could not believe they -walked together for the last time. Yet Time moved out here, and Death -found work to do. A clumsy beetle had blundered out of the dark, -finding harbourage upon her fair hand. She had crushed it with a little -blow, and the body had fallen in the grasses to wait the busybody ants. -How much was starting and finishing just now over all the wide world?</p> - -<p>They passed up the Pool with only a word or two spoken between them, -searching the water when the fishes jumped, listening to the creatures -pushing through the undergrowth, staying to look at strips of water -starred with white lilies. Her sober mood passed away as they went on. -Wantonly she dropped to her knees and gathered up twigs to cast into -the water. He heard her laughter in the dark like a peal of low bells. -Then he found they had reached the end of the Pool, and the hut was far -away.</p> - -<p>"Molly, this is the end. The water finishes here. I have something to -tell you. Are you listening, Molly? It only takes a moment to say. -Good-bye. That's a strange word, isn't it? Have you heard it before? -Well, to-night we are saying good-bye." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> - -<p>Until the word was spoken he felt he might never need to say it; but -now it was said, and the night had turned deaf ears on his call for -mercy. He saw her plainly in the dark standing before him petrified, in -all her wonderful beauty, alert as though about to flee, with her great -eyes wide open looking at him. She had clasped her hands together in -front of her.</p> - -<p>"What's took you now, Mr. Power? No, stay there. I can hear where I am."</p> - -<p>"Don't start, Molly ... I have something to tell you.... I didn't mean -to tell you. But why not tell you?"</p> - -<p>"Stay there, Mister. Don't look like that. I don't want to know. Let's -go home. Don't look like that. You——"</p> - -<p>"Stop your sweet chatter, Molly. Listen, I say. I love you. I am -starving for want of you. Feel my hand, Molly. It trembles like the -hand Of a man in fever. Feel it, I say."</p> - -<p>"Mister!"</p> - -<p>"I am burning. I am burning inside and out. Let me touch your hand. -Give me your hand a moment to cool me. Give it to me, I say."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Power, don't make me cry. I don't——"</p> - -<p>"I am going away. Do you hear me. I am going away never to see you -again. Other men are to have your kisses. Your bosom is to beat on the -breasts of other men. My lips shall go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> unwashed. My heart shall thump -in an empty drum. Do you hear me?"</p> - -<p>"Don't talk so loud, Mr. Power. Don't look like that. Mr. Power, don't -come so near. Please, Mister; please!"</p> - -<p>"I am going away, Molly. I told you that, didn't I, just now? I have -come to see you for the last time. I have—Molly, all the fires of -heaven and hell are lighted in your eyes. You are doomed to live -burning men's hopes to ashes. Molly, the breeze is in your hair. It -flutters there, as your little soul flutters somewhere in your lovely -body. Let me touch your hair once—oh, so softly it shall be. Once."</p> - -<p>"Mister!"</p> - -<p>"Once."</p> - -<p>"Mister!"</p> - -<p>She was in his arms. He never remembered how they came together. But -all the parched streams of spirit and body were loosed in a flood -of waters. He was kissing her lips. He was kissing her eyes. He was -kissing her throat. Her hair touched his hair. Her hair was in his -mouth, and the sharp taste of it made him mad. He began to kiss her -in frenzy, until she ceased to struggle and lay in his arms sobbing -and laughing. He crushed her to him. He kissed her mouth again. He -kissed her eyes again. Again he kissed her hair. He kissed her brows.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> -He kissed her throat until the red marks rose in the brown skin. He -pressed his head against her bosom where her heart struck wildly. He -felt her tiny teeth against his lips. He buried his face in her coils -of hair. He held her two hands and covered his eyes with them. He -kissed their palms. He laid soft kisses in her eyes. He lifted her -from the ground. He fell upon his knees and laid her in the grass, -and himself fell down beside her. He interlaced her fingers with his. -He drew each open hand of hers slowly about his cheek. He lifted her -from her grassy bed and pressed her to him. The coarse stems of plants -pushed about his face. Great grasshoppers leapt from their beds into -the dark. The stars seemed to blink and flash. He pressed his mouth to -hers again, and held her there through an eternity. And then he fell -down beside her with his face in the grasses, hearing her tiny sobs, -and, more tremendous than that, the shrill of the insects, and more -tremendous than the chorus of insect voices, the living stillness of -the night.</p> - -<p>After an age, he raised himself on both hands, lifting his head above -the grass stems. She lay close by, her face turned away, and her heavy -hair ragged with little leaves and tiny twigs. She was sobbing very -quietly. It seemed to Power he and she lay at the bottom of a deep -pit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> whence he and she had tumbled in headlong flight from the stars. -Brave boasts fled in wind. Big words gone in sound. "Traitor" seared in -red letters across his soul. A harvest to reap from this sowing. What -harvest to reap? Would this child learn to love him as he loved her? -No. He believed already her little heart beat to other time than his. -Well, the draught had proved too bitter for his tasting. He had put -down the cup as it touched his lips.</p> - -<p>He raised himself to his knees and bent over her. "You must get up, -child. It won't do to lie like that. Crying has never mended matters -since the world began."</p> - -<p>He found her hand and she answered his touch, rising slowly, and -presently standing up. He stood beside her and tenderly picked the -rubbish from her hair. She stooped to smooth her dress, and afterwards -he kissed her once, and they turned towards home. They did not speak -all the journey by the water; but he thought the stars stared down on -them like dismal virgins whose virtue has grown strong with loveless -years. Sometimes he held a bough aside that she might go by. At the end -of a long time they were by the castor-oil tree, and light from the hut -shone through the dark.</p> - -<p>"Don't come home," she said. "Not to-night." And she had slipped away -in a moment through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> the trees, while he stood staring where she went.</p> - -<p>He saddled the mare in brief space. He could look into the distant -lighted hut; but it was empty. She was not there. He drew the reins -together on the chestnut's neck and gained the saddle. When the mare -found her head turned home she started away primly at her swift walk. -He gave the reins to her neck. But they had not put behind half a mile -of the journey when the steps of a second horse approached, and a -whinney came through the dark.</p> - -<p>"You, Mick?"</p> - -<p>"Hullo, boss."</p> - -<p>They pulled up with one accord. He saw O'Neill in the dark, wearing -a wide-brimmed hat, a shirt open at the neck, riding trousers and -leggings below, and long spurs strapped at his heels. His happy smile -had departed, and Power knew he was face to face with the first reaping -of his harvest.</p> - -<p>"I haven't got back yet," he said. "I went as far as the big hole past -the Ten Mile, and then round Mount Dreary way. There were a couple of -mobs by the water—doing right enough." He came to the end of what he -had to say. O'Neill sat gloomily, tapping the arch of his saddle with -his fingers. "I looked in at the Gregory's a bit on the way back." -Power added.</p> - -<p>Then O'Neill spoke. His old swagger came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> into his bearing, and he -lifted his head defiantly. "Boss, do you reckon you are on the square -game down there?"</p> - -<p>Anger blazed in Power's face. He felt a weight upon his chest and the -chords of his throat tighten. But he had caught hold of himself before -the words left his lips. After a long moment he said almost gently: -"Fast talking won't do us good, Mick. It looks that the road is pretty -rough for you and me just now. We were friends before ill-luck sat -down between us. It is a poor crush that won't hold the beast when the -branding starts."</p> - -<p>O'Neill stared gloomily at the neck of his horse. "Boss, it's no game -I'm playing there, I swear. It's no come-and-go affair with me."</p> - -<p>"And how is it better for me?"</p> - -<p>The man flashed up his head. "Miss Neville," he said.</p> - -<p>The pain in Power's face told the rest of the story. A moment later -Power spoke.</p> - -<p>"A man has his life to live, and wins or loses as his turn comes. One -of us must finish on top; but it needn't break our friendship."</p> - -<p>"Straight wire you mean it, boss?"</p> - -<p>"Straight wire."</p> - -<p>He found the mare, fretful of delay, was moving down the road. O'Neill -had gathered up his reins. Without more talk they were moving—each -going his way.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XII</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">Selwyn hears some news</span></span></h2> - -<p>The sun climbing round the base of Conical Hill at daybreak next -morning, found Selwyn already abroad, and in the very best of humours. -The gentle trickle of last night's nightcap down his gullet had warmed -the very cockles of his heart, so he told a mud-lark discussing an -early worm among the saplings. He was outside before the day was -properly alight, standing on the front verandah, hands deep in pockets, -legs set apart, sniffing the remnants of a night breeze, which had -not yet fled the sun's wooing. Finding his spirits insisted upon more -active affairs and discovering no prospect of breakfast for a while, he -picked up his stick, which he only exchanged for gun or fishing-rod, -and took a turn round the back premises, where there might be matters -to occupy a fellow until people thought fit to give up slugging in bed. -Rheumy-eyed Scabbyback, rising morosely from a sack, was prodded good -morning, and Gripper was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> accorded even more gracious welcome, being -unchained and allowed to follow on the march of discovery.</p> - -<p>Selwyn called out good morning to old Neville, as he passed towards the -mine on early business, and presently seduced into talk Mrs. Nankervis -as she bustled in and out of the back door on the work of breakfast. -He presided at a difference of opinion between Gripper and a blue -billygoat with the beard of the Prophet, which ruled the tattered herds -of Surprise. He had just come to an end of everything, including his -good humour, when news arrived that breakfast waited.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Selwyn and Maud were already in the dining-room. Hands came out of -his pockets. "By Jove!" he said. "Good morning. Here you are at last. -It is wonderful how people like to loaf in bed."</p> - -<p>"It is the only morning you have been down first for a week," Mrs. -Selwyn answered sharply.</p> - -<p>"What about 'a man's work may be early begun; but a woman's work is -never done,' Mr. Selwyn?" Maud said.</p> - -<p>Selwyn changed the conversation. He put on his most genial smile. -"Your father out again to-day? I suppose he won't be back yet? Am I to -preside again, Miss Neville?"</p> - -<p>"If you won't mind. Shall we sit down?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> - -<p>Maud took her place at one end of the table and poured out tea. Selwyn, -with a good deal of noise, pulled up a chair at the other end and -began to lift dish covers. Mrs. Selwyn found her seat half-way down -and prepared to be as gracious as possible, in spite of feeling most -unequal to the task. What she endured daily at this ghastly place, -nobody could possibly comprehend. And she had foreseen it all so -clearly with that capable brain of hers! Never again should Hilton -overrule her.</p> - -<p>A first inspection of dishes revealed, besides a noble ham, procured -from the coast in honour of visitors, eggs, a wallaby stew, and -lastly—red, rich, and done absolutely to the last turn—a thick piece -of rump steak, beyond any doubt the best bit Selwyn had ever seen since -leaving the South. Quietly the cover went down upon that dish.</p> - -<p>"Now, who will have wallaby stew?" said the master of ceremonies, with -the charm of manner which beguiled so easily the uninitiated. "You will -have some, of course, dear?"</p> - -<p>"I shall have nothing of the sort. I shall have an egg."</p> - -<p>"Very well, dear; but you are making a mistake. Miss Neville, you will -have some, of course." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Don't pester the wretched girl with it every morning."</p> - -<p>"Of course she would like it," came irritably from the president. -"Wallaby is a great luxury. You ought to be very glad I am able to get -it for you. This is the only place I have heard of where they want to -throw it on the midden."</p> - -<p>Selwyn began to heap a plate.</p> - -<p>"If I must have it, Mr. Selwyn, not so much, please," Maud said.</p> - -<p>"I don't know why you pester everyone to eat your things," said Mrs. -Selwyn, continuing the attack.</p> - -<p>"I hate seeing everything I shoot wasted," Selwyn replied, testily.</p> - -<p>"Then let the dogs have it."</p> - -<p>"No. I like seeing friends enjoy it."</p> - -<p>"Then eat it yourself."</p> - -<p>"I can't. It doesn't agree with me in the morning."</p> - -<p>Maud made peace by accepting the dish. Mrs. Selwyn cracked an egg. -Then—then only—Selwyn uncovered the rump steak.</p> - -<p>"By Jove!" he said. "I'm sorry. There was steak here had anyone wanted -it. I am afraid I'm rather late for you now."</p> - -<p>He put the fork gently and deeply into the juicy square of meat, and -lifted it bodily on to his plate—regretfully, as though only good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> -manners persuaded him to choose the untasted dish. Next, collecting -round him the necessaries for an ample breakfast, he settled to his -task.</p> - -<p>Breakfast over, Selwyn decided on a stroll. It was too late in the -day for a shot, and he could take a turn with a gun in the evening. -A stroll was better than hanging about a house trying to amuse two -women. He visited the back again and loosed his bodyguard. The mangy -pointer in its dotage sprang heavily upon him in joyous good morning, -and tested the weight of his stick. Gripper led the van. The momentary -irritation of breakfast had gone, and Selwyn felt benign with all the -world.</p> - -<p>Pipe in mouth, stick in hand, he took the red road which turns -left-handed from the office door. Mrs. Boulder relinquished household -matters to watch him go by. The sun was rising in the sky, and when -he drew opposite the Horrington humpy, he began to tell himself that -a man was looking for trouble who went for walks in this country. Mr. -Horrington stood in his doorway, gently musing after his morning custom -before setting forth to win the daily bread; and Selwyn, from the -roadway, sent him a cheerful salute, which brought him along the path -to the road.</p> - -<p>"Good day, Mr. Selwyn. You are abroad early this morning. Which way are -you going?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Nowhere in particular. I was out for a stroll."</p> - -<p>"Will you come along with me? I seldom get anyone to talk to. I have -some business in the township."</p> - -<p>"Splendid!" cried Selwyn.</p> - -<p>Up the road they went at steady pace, Selwyn carrying his fifty years -on springy steps, Mr. Horrington planting his feet ponderously in the -dust. Mr. Horrington pulled out his pipe in a little while, and found -to his chagrin his tobacco-pouch was empty.</p> - -<p>"Damn it! I find I have run out of fuel until I can manage to get back -to the store," he said, blinking his pale blue eyes. "Would you mind -lending me a fill? Thanks. Ah, this is something like tobacco. The -stuff they sell here comes hard on an educated palate."</p> - -<p>"Fill your pouch up. I have plenty at home."</p> - -<p>"Thanks very much. I am always meaning to send for some decent stuff. -Yes, thanks very much. I shall look forward to a luxurious evening. -Here you are. I am afraid I have rather taken you at your word."</p> - -<p>"Not at all," answered Selwyn with downcast countenance.</p> - -<p>Just before the firewood stacks, they took the branch road turning -to the township. The nearing hotel roof glared in the sun. Selwyn, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span>foreseeing the inevitable, put a cautious hand into his pocket -for what discovery might discover. The nimble half-crown rewarded -his search. Several malignant goats cropped the pasturage at the -cross-roads. Mr. Horrington eyed them sullenly.</p> - -<p>"Who owns all these goats?" said Selwyn, put in better spirits by the -find.</p> - -<p>Horrington blinked his eyes. "That is what nobody knows. They walk -round a man's house, and break the way inside if there's a crust on the -place; or get tangled in the dustbin just as a man is falling asleep. -You can stand all day shouting for an owner, and not a soul on the -lease turns an ear. But if you go mad and shoot one, every man and -woman in the camp comes running up to claim it."</p> - -<p>"You don't care for goats?" said Selwyn.</p> - -<p>Mr. Horrington put the back of a hand across his drooping moustache. -"They are charming animals for little girls to fondle in books; but -you have to live with them to know them. Were I a well-to-do man I -would keep two or three, and wander down of an evening to the paddock -to sprinkle a little bread over them. But when you must wrestle a goat -round a bail before you can have breakfast, the glamour wears. By gad! -a man soon gets hot walking these mornings. Ah, here's the hotel. I -hope you will take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> the dust out of your throat with me. It will help -square our tobacco account." Mr. Horrington laughed a rusty laugh.</p> - -<p>They passed through the open doorway of the hotel, turned right-handed, -and went into the bar. It was cool indoors after the sun. The room was -large and low, and full of the breaths of departed roysterers; and was -empty except for a battered barmaid in curl papers who dusted behind -the counter. Upon the floor were many signs of yesterday. Selwyn felt -poorly inclined for refreshment. Mr. Horrington took off his hat and -wiped his brow, bowing good morning to the barmaid, who smiled bitterly -and came forward. He laid his stick along the counter, and leaning an -elbow beside it, fell into a noble pose, the outcome of a lifetime's -practice.</p> - -<p>"What's it to be, Mr. Selwyn?"</p> - -<p>"Anything, thanks; a whisky," said Selwyn, coming forward and smiling a -charming good morning.</p> - -<p>"That will do for me," Mr. Horrington agreed. "Two whiskys, please."</p> - -<p>Mr. Horrington plunged a hand into his right trouser pocket. Afterwards -he plunged a hand into his left pocket. Once more he tried the right -pocket. He blinked his eyes. He took up the whisky bottle and poured -himself out a stiff peg. He shook his head at a suggestion of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> -dilution. He sipped the peg to taste its quality. He seemed about to -add a little more, had not the barmaid put the bottle from harm's way. -He watched paternally the pouring out of Selwyn's nobbler, and when it -was set down ready, he said pleasantly:—</p> - -<p>"I am afraid I have left every penny of loose cash behind. Wretched -nuisance! Never remember doing that kind of thing before. I hope you -won't object to settling this little matter now, and we can fix up -between ourselves another day." Leaning over, he added in a heavy -whisper: "They are not too agreeable here—don't care to run accounts."</p> - -<p>Selwyn had met his master. He saw it; he was a wise man; then and there -he surrendered.</p> - -<p>"Of course," he said, and brought forth the half-crown. "We are up -against it this morning. This is all I happen to have with me."</p> - -<p>He put the half-crown on the counter, and Mr. Horrington blinked -suspiciously at him.</p> - -<p>The out-of-curl barmaid went away in a little while, and Mr. Horrington -suggested lighting pipes and sitting down a few minutes on the -seat running along the wall. Selwyn, hopeless of escape just then, -acquiesced. They crossed the floor and sat down.</p> - -<p>"Have you a match?" said Mr. Horrington as a start in matters. Selwyn -obediently handed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> over the box. "Business is very slack this year, -very. I find time hang heavily sometimes. Practically never a man of -culture to speak to. I often mean to get up one or two decent books -from down South."</p> - -<p>"Sorry haven't got one with me," said Selwyn, counting the flies on the -ceiling.</p> - -<p>"Yes," went on Mr. Horrington, shaking his head. "I have to hang round -this wretched rattletrap township all day. Fellows turn up any time -from the bush with skins to sell, or samples of ore. It wouldn't do -to be away. A man might lose custom. But it is sickening for a man of -culture listening to their petty squabbles and affairs. By the way, -that reminds me, I heard a fair shocker the other day; a fair shocker -I can tell you. No need to say this is strictly between you and me. Of -course you knew Neville's girl was engaged to the Power who owns this -station?"</p> - -<p>"Met him several times."</p> - -<p>"No doubt. Not a bad chap you would think," said Mr. Horrington. "Well, -it is all over the place now he is running a double affair."</p> - -<p>"Eh?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. They say the other girl is somewhere on the river. A girl with -striking looks. No doubt that's the attraction, though I have never -seen any looks in these parts." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What!" said Selwyn, this time coming down from the flies and scowling.</p> - -<p>"Yes, pretty sickening thing to hear. I am very sorry for Neville's -girl. Charming girl. There seems no doubt about it. I've had it from -half-a-dozen sources since. Moreover the girl's father was here a day -or two back. Drinking pretty freely. I happened to be there, and he -said a good deal more than I liked listening to. He mentioned other -names; but it's as well to let them be. Nasty story. Yes, nasty story."</p> - -<p>"Man, it can't be true." Selwyn exclaimed at last.</p> - -<p>"'Fraid so."</p> - -<p>"Damn it, how beastly!"</p> - -<p>"Yes. Fair shocker."</p> - -<p>They talked together in the stale room for some time until Selwyn grown -desperate, rose firmly to his feet. "Well, must be getting back. Have -a bit of business to do. Enjoyed our chat. Suppose we shall run across -each other again pretty soon."</p> - -<p>Selwyn continued to move firmly towards the door. Mr. Horrington rose -also. He blinked. He swept the edge of his drooping moustache with his -tongue lest a spare drop of whisky remained. He looked longingly but -unprofitably at the row of bottles on the shelves. Lastly he picked up -his stick as Selwyn had picked up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> his. They went outside into the sun. -Scabbyback and Gripper rose from a small island of shade, and Gripper -trotted forward very ready for the start. At the hotel entrance they -said good-bye. They said it soon—Selwyn lifting his stick jauntily in -the air, and Mr. Horrington blinking reply.</p> - -<p>Good-natured kindly fool that he was, he was thoroughly upset by that -infernal old sponger's scandal. Just his luck to be told a darned -awkward piece of news just after breakfast, so that he was likely to -be annoyed with it all day. He was too thundering good-natured, that's -what he was. He must adopt another line in future. Why the deuce should -he worry over people's affairs? What the devil was a fellow to do in -such infernally awkward circumstances—keep his mouth shut? Perhaps he -ought to tell his wife. She might as well know, in case anything ever -came of it. What's more he could shift the business on to her that way. -It was a woman's job. They were pretty thick-skinned in that kind of -thing. They'd be certain to try and drag him into it; but he'd be jolly -careful they didn't. Yes, he was too darned considerate of others.</p> - -<p>He reached home as he was growing unpleasantly hot. Spying Mrs. Selwyn -reading on the shadiest verandah, he made for her and threw himself -into a canvas chair close by. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> bodyguard flopped upon the floor at -his feet, and the party fell to heaving up and down. The sudden assault -caused Mrs. Selwyn to look over the edge of her book.</p> - -<p>"Hilton, how soon are you going to learn a little consideration for -others?" she said sharply. "No single other man I could name would -throw himself and two smelling dogs down in the one spot we are trying -to keep cool."</p> - -<p>Selwyn, tumbled pell-mell from high thoughts, turned very sour.</p> - -<p>"It seems a little hard that a fellow mayn't crawl into the shade for -a minute or two. I am the only one here with sufficient spirit to take -a decent walk of a morning. The rest of you gasp about in easy chairs -expecting to be waited on."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Selwyn made no reply and resumed her reading. Selwyn and his -retainers gave a little time to the recovery of their breaths. Finally -Selwyn braced himself to his task.</p> - -<p>"I met that old humbug Horrington on the road. He gave me a pretty -beastly bit of news." Mrs. Selwyn again looked over the top of her -book. "He told me Jim Power is running a double affair, and is tied up -in a knot with a girl somewhere on the river. A good-looking girl, old -Horrington said. Probably the girl they joke King about. He says it's -all over the place." Mrs. Selwyn shut up her book and laid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> it in her -lap. Next she looked severely at the flooring of the verandah. "Beastly -nuisance!" Selwyn followed up again feebly.</p> - -<p>"Was he quite certain of his story?"</p> - -<p>"Seemed infernally sure of it."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Selwyn resumed the study of the flooring. After a moment or two -she said—"I feel most unwell. I think at least you might have had the -decency to keep it from me."</p> - -<p>"Damn it, I thought you would be put out if you weren't told. Besides -you are a woman. I thought you would have a suggestion to mend matters."</p> - -<p>"I shouldn't for one moment think of interfering. It is essentially a -matter between Mr. Neville and yourself."</p> - -<p>"Neville? Damn it, don't you try and drag me into it."</p> - -<p>"I entreat you to moderate your violence a little."</p> - -<p>Selwyn said something under his breath. He was getting ruffled, and -don't you make any mistake about it. It was the old story. He was too -darned infernally good-natured. Too beastly unselfish. He had lived too -long letting people thrust their blasted wishes down his timid throat. -But he'd start a new tack from to-day. By Jove! yes, a new tack from -to-day.</p> - -<p>While he lashed himself into noble rage, Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> Selwyn continued to -admonish. "It is exactly what I expected. The course is perfectly -clear, and you come running to me. And as usual you try and shift the -matter on to me with high hand and bluster."</p> - -<p>Selwyn had flogged himself to white heat. "Here am I, a supposed big -man of these parts, nagged at and brow-beaten and driven to the point -of madness by a houseful of idle matchmaking women."</p> - -<p>"I entreat you——" began Mrs. Selwyn.</p> - -<p>"They can carry their own dirty linen to the wash themselves. I've been -the public pack-animal for the last time, and I tell you so now. The -girl can get herself out of her own tangle."</p> - -<p>"Do you realise the whole camp may be listening?"</p> - -<p>"Damn the camp!"</p> - -<p>"You ruffian."</p> - -<p>Selwyn threw himself to his feet. "It's the last good turn I try and -do. Power can keep a harem for what I care. I suppose you are content -now you have driven me away?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Selwyn made no reply, but resumed her reading. Scowling -terrifically, Selwyn plunged down the verandah steps, the bodyguard -pattering at his heels. There were the sounds of steps, very sharp and -dignified, dying away down the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> path, followed by silence. Mrs. Selwyn -closed her book and proceeded to consider matters in all their aspects.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIII</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Journey to the Pool</span></span></h2> - -<p>Coming up from the yard near the creek where the goats were herded, -Maud Neville stood a moment in the darkened dining-room; and, standing -there, she heard Selwyn begin his story. She dreamed while the first -words were spoken, soothed by the change from sunlight to the shadows -and quiet of indoors; then understanding arrived, and she stood -wide-eared to the end.</p> - -<p>Waiting by the table, clad in a cool dress, with a wide straw hat -upon her head, she happened upon the telling of that tale, and stood -listening until the final word was spoken. In that space life lived and -done with. A book opened; the story read. Truth told which could not be -untold. And she must rouse herself from daydreaming in this quiet room, -for outside a sun was shining, and earth still rolled through high -heaven.</p> - -<p>She lingered among the shadows a little while yet, while the greedy -sunlight crept under the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> verandah roof seeking a way to climb in. Her -light fingers moved among the household gods, settling and re-settling -them with old skill.</p> - -<p>Give her strength to find the way into the sunlight white and fiery. -Winter must thaw there, and these tongues of slander wither and roll up -black. He loved her! Who dared to deny he loved her? Yet now he came -less often. He came with gloomy face and brow old with frowns. Truth -was too true! Love had learned unloving.</p> - -<p>Stay, he loved her a little still and therefore he grieved to speak -the truth. He came and came again that he might kill her gently, and -lay dead love to sleep upon its broken flowers. Let her thank him for -this kindness which had kept her glad a little while. Surely Death thus -gently come was not a fearful visitor?</p> - -<p>She shook. This was rage assailing her. Hot rage, this moment. This -moment, icy hate. Come and gone in fierce breaths. Now storm had passed -away, and she stood quiet, trembling a little.</p> - -<p>Not to-day this message. Let him love her once more to-night. Let him -kiss back her kisses, and she would be strong to-morrow.</p> - -<p>A world rolling through its day, and she dreaming in this cool room. -Wake up from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> dreaming. Outside sunlight woos the red earth, and bronze -lizards sit upon the stones.</p> - -<p>She showed no signs of hurt when presently she came out of the quiet -and began the tasks set to do in the brief space of morning that -remained. One asked her were she tired. One warned her summer was but -begun, and only those who started prudently would last through to the -end. She laughed and said she would cause all to look to their laurels. -When lunch was ended, to prove the heat of the day had small fright for -her, she renounced the verandah for her bedroom, and her cool dress for -a habit. At the last moment, when there remained only the saddling, she -sought out her father and told him she would be away until sundown. The -old man cocked his head to one side in dismay.</p> - -<p>"What's taken ye, girl?" he said. "Why not wait for evening and the -cool?"</p> - -<p>"I'm sick of indoors. I am going now, father."</p> - -<p>"Well, it's you to do the riding, girl, and not me. Don't be stopping -out after sunset and scarin' us. Where are you going?"</p> - -<p>"To the river."</p> - -<p>The old man grunted, and she turned and left the house. She saddled -Stockings, the chestnut with four white legs, she mounted him, and he -moved freely down the road, reefing a little at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> the beginning from -good spirits. She checked him to a walk, and presently he ceased to -fret and plodded down the way with head drooping lower as each mile was -put behind. Presently hills stood between the camp and her. Presently -she was far into the plain. The sun was high up in the sky; the air was -hot and without breeze. The red hill sides glared back into the sun's -face. The baked bunches of spinifex pushed up their spears from the -ground. At the end of several miles she began to fag, although all her -task was to sit astride this big horse. Purpose held her moving along -the road. The green belt of the river grew up upon the horizon.</p> - -<p>Rage and bitterness had spent their hours in her heart and had passed -to where such things pass. Now Care came, a lonely child, to suck at -her breast. Came too this desire to look upon that beauty which could -command men to cast all away and follow—a desire to stare upon it from -her high seat on this beast.</p> - -<p>The green belt marking the river came out across the plain. The big -horse carried her into the shabby country which sheltered the higher -trees from the broad face of the land. Rubbish of old floods, long run -to the sea, waited in the branches, and here and there high watermark -showed above her head. Now she rode among the nobler timber. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was gentle here among the trees, where quiet shadows laid their -cheeks against the path. A lonely bird fluted in the boughs. Water -peeped ahead through bending branches. It seemed the Pool had shrunken -much after these rainless months.</p> - -<p>Presently, when she had passed a long way through the trees, she pulled -up Stockings on the bank and looked down into the water. The face of -the Pool stared back into her own, and she could mark the lean fishes -lolling in cool places, and discover a world of weeds nodding below. -Last great lilies of the year bloomed lonely upon the brow of the -water. To right hand, to left hand, the face of the Pool extended. -Guardian ranks of trees followed all the way, bending over in many -places to stare at their countenances. Sunlight slipped among their -tops, and tumbled into the gloom of their boughs, and splashed upon the -water with noiseless splashes. Shadows with dusky faces peered round -the tree trunks to know who came thus to look with sad face upon the -slumbers of an afternoon.</p> - -<p>She had drawn quietly to the bank, and now she discovered wild birds -dozed upon the bosom of the Pool. Fat ducks floated, with bills laid to -rest in gorgeous plumes. Divers paddled in loneliest places and sank -among the weeds.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> Strange birds shovelled in the hot soft mud. And in -all corners—melodiously hidden—butcher birds called and called again, -tiny birds with canary breasts flitted in the boughs, and sharpened -their bills on the roughness of the bark; and kingfishers skimmed the -water on shining, whirring wings.</p> - -<p>She laid the reins upon the neck of the big horse which stood so still, -and as she looked the message of peace laid a quiet finger upon her -heart. She told herself the beautiful child who had so harmed her -had a home by this gentle place, and so she could not be a stranger -to kindness. She would undo the damage wrought. He who had wandered -away after false gods saw every day this fair scene, and his heart -must still have understanding. She turned Stockings from the Pool -right-handed, and threaded a way along the bank. She began to wonder -what to do when she would find herself face to face with the girl. She -wondered if rumour had mistold of her beauty, and she grew bitter with -her own poor body which could ill afford challenge. What would she -say to this child if she had to speak to her—tell her to go down to -the Pool and there find a book printed with much learning? She would -tell her gently she had played robber, and this stranger had ridden -across the plain to receive back what she had lost. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> simple to -give back where value was not. Value was not? A new thought to stab. -This young girl who lived among the silences of the timber might love -too, and fight for her love with the weapons of the savage. Beauty and -passion come to do battle against her own dowdy armour.</p> - -<p>What a coward heart she held! Here was the camp coming through the -trees. Did she arrive on the service of love to peer and eavesdrop, and -to smile out of her white face while rage filled her heart? Ah, there -the child lived. What a lowly house the man she loved had stooped to -knock at! Her own stout roof and safe walls could not keep him. Her -nerves were tight drawn to-day. Stockings had whinnied loud, and the -blood raced to her heart. The hut was not deserted. An unfriendly dog -ran out to challenge the approach. In a moment the girl might cross -the threshold, and find her without wit or speech. Stockings neighed -again—and was that a horse answering beyond the hut? A horse was -there. A horseman must be here. Shame! His horse stood there. She was -near the doorway. She must ride on or turn back. She might be found -there. Such thing must never be. He might find her there, and think she -spied upon him. He might come outside, and with him the child who had -stolen him away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> They two might look fondly at each other. No—not -that.</p> - -<p>She was clumsy. She had waited too long. He stood in the doorway. He -was coming outside. He stood still. He had seen her. They were staring -into each other's eyes. It seemed they could not leave off looking. -They looked into each other's hearts and read all that was written -there. His face had grown hard; he was frowning, his face black. Come, -she must rouse herself from enchantment. She could not speak to him -now, and there was only left to turn Stockings on the road home.</p> - -<p>Ah, who is this come out beside him? Tall, like a young tree. Who -is this come to stand beside him and stare out of wide eyes? Eyes -set under a brow harnessed with thick brown coils of hair. Young and -careless and lovelier than all the beauty that slumbers through this -summer afternoon. What fields of lilies yearn for her to seek them, -that her slim white feet may crush among their stems, and they meet -death from one lovelier than themselves? What woods of greedy violets -sigh for her to pass among them that they may steal her fragrance and -make the world sick with a sweeter sweetness? Ah, what a poor tongue -has legend. This was she whom rumour said bloomed lovely by the river. -Beauty born humbly, but not so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> humble that pale pilgrims did not glide -through the silences to lift the clapper of her door. Beauty housed -humbly in a shabby temple; but beauty itself not humble. The flame that -burnt! Ah, rescue him!</p> - -<p>She drew tight a rein and turned away; and as she passed again among -the trees the birds were fluting in the boughs and on one hand the face -of the waters twinkled in sunshine and in sleep. Once she thought his -voice came after her, commanding her to wait; but she scorned to turn -about lest imagination mocked, and again she saw that hut set among the -trees. It seemed Stockings turned sluggard for this homeward journey, -and in rage she plunged sudden spurs into his sides. He snorted loud -and rose high into the air, and she must lean upon his wither to -persuade him to earth. Thereafter he turned fretful, seeking to reef -the reins from her hands. They passed among the trees until the last -ribbons of water were hidden. Hark! On the edge of the timber and the -empty land a hurry of hoofs reached her ears. Quickly it grew loud. -Some madman rode. It was he come after her. He would ride at her side -in a moment. Give her strength to meet him manfully. Fool he to seek -her out now. She hated him with a hate as great as the love he had -murdered. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I called out I would ride back with you. I had to saddle up. What was -the hurry?"</p> - -<p>"To tell the truth I didn't know I was needed. I set out to ride alone, -and thought to finish the journey alone. But we can ride together -now if you wish. The way lies side by side a mile or two. As well -to practise again this art of riding side by side, lest it be quite -forgotten. One—two—three—weeks, since we had last lesson. And once -we used half the days of the week in mastering the art. Why these -scowls, friend Jim?"</p> - -<p>"Come, don't talk riddles, Maud. I'm not in humour to read them. If you -have things to say, say them now while we have the place to ourselves. -Say what must be said. Big words can drop and break here, and lie well -broken. My ears are on edge for listening. But don't give me riddles."</p> - -<p>"'Jim Power has tied himself up in a knot with some girl on the river.' -Soft words, Jim, to have flung at me this morning.... Oh, how could you -do this?"</p> - -<p>"Gently, Maud."</p> - -<p>"Gently? No, any word but that. Speak up, Jim. What knots your tongue? -Cry at me doubter, liar, shabby tattler of tales. The bitterer your -words, the sweeter I shall hear them. Where is your tongue? Say you -are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> sick with me for doubting. Say the taste of this day will never -leave your mouth, Jim. Frowns won't feed me."</p> - -<p>"Stop. I am at the end of what I can bear."</p> - -<p>"You won't answer? Jim, it isn't true?"</p> - -<p>Then fell upon those two riding side by side in the radiant afternoon -the majesty and the melancholy of that wide red land. The little sounds -of passage were born and died and put away forgotten. There lived upon -the breast of Time the sharp steps of two horses crossing the rubble -on the ground. There lived the clink of bits when heads were tossed. -There lived the tiny groans of leather. And in the bunches of spinifex -punctual insects tuned their throats against the evening. But he and -she passed away from all these things, and after much journeying came -hand in hand into some rare atmosphere where they kneeled together, -two mourners at the bier of dead love. He who was so quickly moved to -anger, she who but a space ago had been cold in rage, felt now only a -great purifying pity move through them that such a fair comrade had -been laid in a narrow bed. Desires, remorses, rages, strifes—those -ragged clothes his spirit must often wear—were laid aside on the -threshold of this high wide chamber, and he was re-robed in cool -garments for the hour of vigil. As their spirits waited<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> there, on -either side of the bier where Love was laid out among her fading -blossoms, their bodies rode across the plain, and presently the long -road lay before them, where she must turn right-handed to Surprise and -he ride left for Kaloona. There they stayed a little while and spoke together.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIV</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Halt by the Road</span></span></h2> - -<p>She was the first to speak.</p> - -<p>"Jim, we can't ride like this for ever. A good thing if we could! I am -over the first sharpness. Don't choose your words. We can't ride on -like this."</p> - -<p>"No, Maud, we can't."</p> - -<p>"Do you love her?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"How did it come about?"</p> - -<p>"As such things come about."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"How do such things come about?"</p> - -<p>"Does she love you?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"What have you said to her? Does she know you care?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Ah, as far as that?"</p> - -<p>"Since yesterday. Last night I went to end things. Until then not one -word had smirched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> me or you. I went to say good-bye. She was put -before me like a drink. And——"</p> - -<p>"You were parched?"</p> - -<p>The horses stood with drooped heads, muzzle to muzzle. The hours were -growing old, and long shadows climbed across the grasses. A wide -hat sheltered her from the sun; but he thought she looked tired and -worn, and he wondered which lines summer had drawn there and which he -had traced. Next he fell to asking himself if sorrow could sharpen -eyesight, for he found himself looking past her body upon her good -spirit. It would find food for new growth out of this hurt. Two years -ago they had knelt together and received an equal gift. What a good -housewife she had proved! What a spendthrift he!</p> - -<p>"The afternoon is nearly gone, Jim. I made a promise to be back by -sunset. I don't know what to say. I must go on feeling for a little -while and then I shall be able to think. I don't understand a man's -love. He can put it off and on like a cloak. He wears a woman's livery -for a season to find it shabby after that time and himself in need of a -newer one. You have worn mine through two seasons and no doubt I should -be duly glad."</p> - -<p>"Gently."</p> - -<p>"I am raw still. Too sick and sorry to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> stoop about picking up soft -words. No, forget what I said. You have made me angry and hurt and -scornful, and, if you will have it, jealous; but you have not the art -to make me love you any less. Nothing can unteach me what I have learnt -through you. You can never make me unhappy as you have made me happy."</p> - -<p>"What am I to say?"</p> - -<p>"I must be going home."</p> - -<p>"Listen to me. Because of what has happened, don't think I'm such a -dullard that I don't know the worth of what I had. What ails me! Soon -I'll be past caring. I'm at odds with my shadow. I'm too full of ill -humours to pull myself on to a horse's back, too sick with things to -try a day's work. If you want revenge you can be satisfied."</p> - -<p>She saw his face grow keen with sorrow, and last traces of bitterness -against him left her. In place arrived a great pity, and a greediness -to heal his hurts. She turned away, and thoughtfully with her light -fingers began to thread the mane of the big chestnut horse. She laid -the hairs this way and that with care, but little she knew of her work. -She was thinking with all her might.</p> - -<p>She loved this man, and what was love but service? She must serve him -now he was in such evil case. What were her wounds but red lips opening -in her side that they might speak<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> his wounds and tell them balm was -coming. This was the highest hour of their love, when love was to be -crowned with understanding. Let her be speedy and not spend all day -debating. A poor passenger was fallen sick by the way, and here was -she, loaded with her ointments, who had talked much of her skill. What -was love but service, and she said she loved this man?</p> - -<p>"What are we to do?"</p> - -<p>"There is nothing to do."</p> - -<p>"Are you going home?"</p> - -<p>"I told her I would go back."</p> - -<p>"It's time I started home, Jim."</p> - -<p>"Maud!"</p> - -<p>"Don't look so serious. You are in worse case than I am. I can laugh at -myself and I doubt that of you. Before I go, promise me you will still -come to Surprise. It's a sleepy place. You won't find things changed -there."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"And now you have promised that, will you come to-morrow? A square -promise, fair weather or black, a day's work to do or nothing on hand."</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Jim."</p> - -<p>"Good-bye, Maud."</p> - -<p>The old horse moved away when she gathered up her reins.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XV</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Parting of the Way</span></span></h2> - -<p>Power kept his promise. The afternoon sun was still high in the sky -when he let loose his horse in the stable yard at Surprise and walked -across the stones to the house. He approached in view of the shadiest -verandah where the household had come together after lunch. In the -amplest chair lay Selwyn lost to all the ill humours of the heat; but -Mrs. Selwyn interrupted her reading to give him a searching glance, and -Neville shot up shaggy eyebrows and cried "Hello!" Maud came down the -steps. She wore a big hat as protection from the sun; but she looked up -to speak and showed Power the lines of care that twenty-four hours had -drawn upon her face.</p> - -<p>"Come this way, Jim. It's shady up the creek, and there are too many -inside."</p> - -<p>They passed together a little way up the bed of the creek, clambering -once and again over sharp faces of rock where fair pools of water rest -after the rains. They reached a spot where a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> sapling throws a broken -shade upon a shelf of stone. They sat down. The prospect is gentle here -as prospects are judged at Surprise. Below, stands the house peering -round the bank of the rise—above, the creek climbs up into the hills.</p> - -<p>"Well, Jim?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"Come, don't look so cut up. It isn't fair to me. I've spent all day -looking things in the face and you must help."</p> - -<p>"I've come here as you asked. What is there to say?"</p> - -<p>"Do you still feel the same about her?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. It will always be the same."</p> - -<p>"We have come to the end of things. Is that it?"</p> - -<p>"It needn't be that. There is friendship left."</p> - -<p>"Fall from first to second place? How dare you ask me that.... What -makes you like this? She has nothing more than her looks. She has no -education. She can have only a child's experience of life."</p> - -<p>"It makes no difference."</p> - -<p>"And where will you be when the glamour has gone?"</p> - -<p>"It will be time to see when that happens."</p> - -<p>"But they say she isn't even a good girl. A girl must be so weak to let -men do as they like with her." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> - -<p>"We have said enough."</p> - -<p>"And what am I to do? Make the best of things I can? Take off my love -like an old coat and throw it away because it is out at the elbows? -Jim, you don't know what love is. That's why this thing has happened."</p> - -<p>"Talking won't mend things."</p> - -<p>"There's no more to say; is that what you mean? We have come to the -parting of the ways. I'm to understand that, am I? The house I built -has tumbled on top of me, and I am to get clear of the ruins as best -I can. In a little while this affair of yours will be over, and where -shall we both be? Can't you see what a priceless thing we are ready to -waste?"</p> - -<p>"Of course I see it; but it makes no difference. I was a man a month -ago, able to take or let alone. Now ... I love the child. There's the -beginning and end of it."</p> - -<p>"We had a hundred things to help us over the difficult bits of life and -now because you are tired I am asked to feel the same. That's where the -laugh comes in. I find I can't do it."</p> - -<p>"What a cad you make me!"</p> - -<p>"She doesn't love you. You told me that yesterday. How are you going to -get over that?"</p> - -<p>"She may change."</p> - -<p>"Have you thought what I have to face?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> 'There goes Maud Neville who -was found wanting and now takes second place to a girl whose lips are -plastered with the kisses of a dozen men.' Some day the words may not -seem much; just now, my friend, they have a harsh sound. How dare you -bring me to this?"</p> - -<p>"Would you have us marry as things are?"</p> - -<p>"No, I wouldn't. I must eat my humble pie. But as yet I cannot make -myself believe that we are at the end of things. It's not easy to speak -out the truth even to you. I ought to cut you for good. But I just -can't do it. Love takes a lot of killing. The world will think me a -girl of poor spirit; but better that than that this thing should come -to grief in haste. I must have time to think things out. I owe this to -you and to myself.... What are you looking at the sun for? Do you want -to get away?"</p> - -<p>"I have to meet O'Neill at three o'clock."</p> - -<p>"Meet him at three so as to be in time somewhere else later on—I -suppose that's it. Well, so be it."</p> - -<p>"Are you coming to the stable?"</p> - -<p>"No. I'm going to stay here a little while. Jim, this mustn't be our -good-bye. Before you go, promise me you won't quite forget us here. -Come when you can."</p> - -<p>"Good-bye."</p> - -<p>"Good-bye."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVI</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">Summer Days</span></span></h2> - -<p>In this far country spendthrift November used up one by one its days. -Each fiery noontide pulled the sun a little higher into the sky. His -way was set in a wide field of blue, where seldom came one timid -cloud to loiter an hour and float fearfully away. The season of the -rains drew near; but as yet was no sign of the storm wrack, which -drifts up evening by evening and drifts away—a herald of the deluge -which presently shall burst upon the land. Night, hot and passionate, -followed night, hot and passionate—each night roofed with high white -twinkling stars. The Scorpion was falling from his lofty place, and -Orion carried his sword and belt up from the horizon.</p> - -<p>In the mornings of those long November days as the eight o'clock -whistle blew shrill from the engine house, the men of Surprise Valley -descended into the bowels of the hills, there to drive and to stope, -to put up their rises and put down their winzes, to employ hammer and -drill in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> damp places and in the hot places, to push their trucks, -to set their fuses, to batter with their spluttering machines until -the day was worn out, and the five o'clock whistle called them to the -surface. A strange land theirs of gloomy tunnelled ways; a land of -shadows dancing before moving candles; a land of roofs which dipped and -soared; a land of grim, cheerless walls and floors, patched with damp, -where black holes opened out and ladders led up and ladders led down; -a land of changing colours as here and here the green copper looked -out from its hiding place. In such a country lived the men of Surprise -Valley between the two whistles of the day.</p> - -<p>At the house of Mr. Neville, manager of Surprise, November was accepted -with small complaint. Many a dawn of day, every set of sun found Selwyn -striding like an honest man into the bush. Lean and pinched he showed -at early morning, hat tilted jauntily forward, cigarette end pushed out -below his clipped moustache, trusty gun under hooked right arm. Leaner -still he looked at evening, as he followed his long shadow across the -ground, marching towards a gully in the hills, where one might blunder -on the Lord knew what—kangaroo, wallaby, or even a python. A python, -be Gad! at one's very back door! </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> - -<p>Each November morning Mrs. Selwyn, after privately counting off one -more day to departure, took a book to the verandah, and sat in the -cool to read a little and observe a good deal more. She was discreetly -watching for evidence of the truth of Hilton's news. It was more than -likely that he had got hold of the wrong end of the stick; still it -was worth while discovering if there was anything in the story. If -there was truth, the girl certainly had no inkling of the matter. She -looked a little tired and worried now and then; but this impossible -country would wear anyone out. It was a shame to think of her buried -here indefinitely. She must think about asking her down for the summer. -Thank goodness half the stay was over. Their rainy season began next -month, and she was going to make certain of not being cooped up here -then.</p> - -<p>Of that household only Maud Neville found November more miserly of the -hours than October. She was living her tragedy alone.</p> - -<p>She explored the frailties of the human spirit—found the heights it -could climb in a courageous hour, and followed it down into dark ways. -It seemed angel and devil waited on her, clanging in turn for entrance. -When she opened to the kind spirit she grew careless of her own hurts, -and only was glad that she loved a man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> who was in trouble and whom -she might have skill to help. When the demon came in at the door he -whispered her she was a woman who loved a man, and who had been loved -by him once upon a time. Now, with lips which had kissed her, the man -kissed the robber who had stolen him away, and held that robber in the -arms which once supported her. At such times she cried she was learning -to hate this turncoat. If presently he would come riding up to sit -beside her with long face, she would cry, "Begone to your child who -bids you click and unclick her gate."</p> - -<p>One terrible minute spent at this time with her father, more than all -her resolutions, saved her from the melancholy which was falling upon -her, and determined her to carry abroad again an untroubled face. She -stood in the dining-room before lunch, trifling the moments away, when -the old man stamped in, hat cocked to one side, pipe in mouth, heavy -walking-stick in clutch. He was flushed from the sun and short of -breath; but he blundered to the attack.</p> - -<p>"Hey, Maud, what's this that's running round the place? Jim Power -playing the double business with you. In a mess with that girl of -Gregory's. I may be wrong, but I reckon I know how to settle that kind -of thing. I may be wrong, huh, huh! No man plays fast and loose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> with a -girl of mine. I'll have the blackguard kicked off the lease next time -he——" The old man came to a standstill.</p> - -<p>She had shown him a face grey with rage. Her words were colder than -drops of ice falling upon snow.</p> - -<p>"How dare you come in like this, father, blustering your way into a -business where you have no concern! Jim and I can keep our house in -order, and our very best thanks to you. How dare you come in like this, -father, without apology to us?"</p> - -<p>The old man took his pipe from his mouth the better to meet the attack. -His shaggy white eyebrows bristled. "Goodness! girl, don't lose your -head like that. I heard wrong, I reckon, in the town just now." He -put back the pipe in his mouth and gathered confidence. "Well, that's -all to be said about the matter, Maud, only a bit of news to remember -is—nobody plays the game of do-as-you-please with my daughter. I may -be wrong, huh, huh!" Then he scrambled about and went out of the room.</p> - -<p>While the slothful lips of November counted away the days—if at that -time Maud plucked all the strings of the lyre, and sounded high melody -and awaked rough discord; if she fingered all the stops of feeling, -the man she loved made music no less wild. As hope shuttered her -lodge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> behind him, as despair came as neighbour to his street, he grew -careless of opinion, thoughtless of the future, and with an appetite -eager only to lap clean the dish of the present. Love was revealed as -a light, blinding him who looked there to all but its brightness. As -he stumbled towards it, calling out loud for a veil, it moved away. -All his hurry and loud cries brought him no nearer, as a man may climb -mountain upon mountain and never reach the stars.</p> - -<p>As he grew mad, he grew wise with a cheerless wisdom. He rode to the -river; he rode away; again he rode to the river. To-night he held in -his arms the child he loved, and covered her with kisses. To-morrow -he would hold her thus again. But ever Love fled him as he came. Ever -Love turned in flight to mock him. Ever Love danced away on rosy -toes. Strange teaching this—that a man can own the House of Love, -and stamp adown the house from garret to cellar, and not on one couch -find Love awaiting him. This child would lie in his arms through long -minutes, would kiss back his kisses at his command, and press back his -embraces—and all the passion spent on her passed over her, as when -the clouds open on an autumn day, and the sun runs across the waiting -field. As he sealed her eyes with kisses, behold they were sleepy with -dreams another had laid there;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> as he stopped her mouth with his mouth, -the taste of another's lips sweetened her own. Who knows that if her -shallow little soul had cried to him then down the distance that his -spirit might not have found sight and seen the poor thing it pursued. -So Love might have wearied in the chase. But because this small thing -fled him, he must snatch up his torch to follow, and among the high -shadows of its leaping fire, surely one was the shadow of the thing he -hunted.</p> - -<p>He grew a tattered hermit of the woods who said good-bye and stole back -as the night grew old to glide among the trees and watch the light fall -from her doorway. Hither and thither he passed, that he might hear her -laugh from here, that his ears might woo her voice from there, that -now her shadow might cross the window as ointment for his eyes. The -flying-foxes saw him at his watch, and high above the tree tops white -stars stared down.</p> - -<p>The light would go out in her hut, and for a little while the ghost of -a light would peer through the pale wall of her tent. Did she pray in -those few moments as she robed herself for sleep? Was she kneeling in -that poor tent at her rough bed, vestured in white with her shining -hair fallen unlooped about her? Did her straight white narrow feet push -under the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> hem of her gown, with toes bent upon the surly ground? Did -she remember him in the little prayers that fluttered up to God? Did -she whisper a man loved her, who was in sore need of help? No. In her -brief life she had scarce heard the name of God. Her rich body was her -prayer.</p> - -<p>Hush! The light behind her wall is quenched. She is folding herself -for sleep. The stars lift their thousand candles above her. The forest -shall be the posters of her bed. These great bats fluttering across -the dark shall carry her kind dreams from utmost places. Hush! Another -pilgrim comes among the waiting trees, but not to stay like him with -lean face peering among the trunks. This pilgrim steals into the open -and raises the soft doorway of that darkened chamber. See her go in -with warning finger, poppies wreathed about her hair, poppies climbing -up her staff. She has gone in, and on the drowsy lips of that young -child has placed the largest poppy of all to rub out his rough kisses -of the day.</p> - -<p>Aye, now the child sleeps, and no longer need he creep wakeful here, -fingering the rough bark of trees, and stepping clumsy on loud twigs. -He can take himself home, and from his own tumbled bed shout loud on -timid Sleep to remember him. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> - -<p>Sweet child who lies secure there, where now is your little soul -fleeing? What ripe field does it find for its walks? What wide-armed -trees hold out their shade to meet it? What flowers lift up their -perfumed cups to spy who passes? What painted birds cast out their -crystal notes from bush and briar to hail it? What purple hills pile up -behind to hide the shabby land where by day it is compelled to dwell? -Sweet child, in pity tell this tattered watchman that he may lace -winged sandals to his feet, and in a brighter country sweep forward in -the flight.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVII</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Errand to the Pool</span></span></h2> - -<p>On the afternoon of the last of those November days Maud Neville chose -again the road to Pelican Pool. She had learned of Power's banishment -until dark to a corner of the run, and so might take the way without -fear of a meeting. Time, if a slow leech, was proving of service, and -misery had been exchanged for a jog-along content.</p> - -<p>The picture was discovering its proportions, and, from the chair of -justice, she could examine it and pronounce verdict. It was crudely -drawn when studied thus. A man ran crying for a prize which he would -throw away as soon as gained. He demanded the meagre thing because it -stayed out of reach. There was humour in the picture if one was in the -mood to see it.</p> - -<p>To-day an idea had come, building itself to shape during the morning. -As a result, when lunch was over, she had saddled the chestnut horse -again and taken the road to the river. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> - -<p>As she left the stable, Mr. King crossed to the office. He waited for -her in the path, and she pulled up the horse.</p> - -<p>"Aren't you very energetic so early in the day?"</p> - -<p>"One has to do something for a change, even if one becomes energetic. -Life is rather like those travelling shows that find the way here -sometimes. You have to clap and laugh loud in case you yawn your head -off."</p> - -<p>"I would sooner yawn than clap on a day like this. Where are you off -to?"</p> - -<p>"Somewhere. Anywhere. As the spirit shall move."</p> - -<p>She felt friendly towards this man, who stood wrinkling his face at the -sunlight—a little slow, a little stout, and rather middle-aged. He too -was tangled in this stupid net. Could he have guessed it, she was in no -better case than he. He might have guessed it. The laugh might be his -as much as hers.</p> - -<p>"Sometimes life moves fast enough to prevent one yawning," he said.</p> - -<p>"So you have told me lately. Then you still look for copper by Pelican -Pool? You are a good miner, Mr. King. You follow the lode to its end."</p> - -<p>"Did you think the fool ever learns from his folly?" he said. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> - -<p>"As much as the wise man garners from his wisdom."</p> - -<p>"What, the sage is the fool grown old and bloodless?"</p> - -<p>"Why not the spectator who leaves the arena to watch from the box."</p> - -<p>"But will he seek the box, before he has lost in the arena? First, -must he not be broken by the other wrestlers, and come second in the -footrace?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps so, Mr. King."</p> - -<p>"I must get under the tree, here. The sun never agrees with me after -lunch. That's better. Now I am ready for your profoundest philosophy. -Have you any for me?"</p> - -<p>"Mr. King, I want you to be serious for once."</p> - -<p>"What do you want?"</p> - -<p>"Now don't be angry. Do you think it right to run after this girl? She -is very young."</p> - -<p>"Right? There are no such things as right or wrong."</p> - -<p>"I said be serious."</p> - -<p>"I am serious. There are no such things as right or wrong. Mark me the -virtuous one. Find me the sinner. Some are born godly—a fig then for -their virtue. Some have no wish for narrow ways. Who shall point a -finger at them? Some struggle and win or lose. They who win have been -lent strength—where then their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> virtue? They who lose were denied aid. -Where is their vice? Foolish human souls all of us, given the hopes of -angels and the bodies of beasts."</p> - -<p>"Fine big words, Mr. King."</p> - -<p>"And if virtue exists, where is its reward? Does the gardener turn his -spade from the worm that tills his garden. Does the fowler cast less -wide his net lest he trap the song bird that soothed him overnight. The -old ox to the shambles. The old horse to the knacker."</p> - -<p>"Come, I am not to be bluffed. Don't you think you ought to leave such -a child alone?"</p> - -<p>"But why must I let be and others go on? Besides, her arms are very -wide."</p> - -<p>"How can you talk like that, Mr. King. I thought you were fond of her. -You have made me angry now."</p> - -<p>She drew the reins together and Stockings passed at a fast walk across -the plain. Presently the green belt of the river had risen out of the -horizon, and later they had come among the first trees. As she was -carried into the nobler timber, and saw the ribbons of water among -laced boughs, and met the pleasant play of light and shade, and felt -the cooler ways, and heard the call of birds in hidden places, the -charm of this quiet spot beside the river affected her magically as it -had done three weeks before. Indeed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> this time she felt better able to -face circumstance. Then she had been an untried soldier, firm enough of -purpose, but one whom the first whistle of bullets had shocked. Three -weeks of war had proven her.</p> - -<p>She rode' to the edge of the water. She found the fair scene had no -whit altered—unless the margin of the Pool had shrunken—unless the -great white lilies had tired of blooming, and slept now beneath the -water until another year should revive them—unless the sun, climbed -higher in the sky, stared down more unkindly.</p> - -<p>After a space spent thus, with Stockings standing beneath her like a -rock, she turned over what was to be done. She frowned a little and -nursed her lip. It was not a pleasant errand she had come on, nor one -with a beginning easy to find. She had come to talk with the girl that -lived here, and bring her to a decision. She must give Jim yes or no. -Let her have him if she wanted; but let her say so. This could not go -on. His character was being sapped away. Let the girl take him and he -would have what he wanted, or let her send him away and he must pull -himself together. It did not matter to her—Maud. Things had gone too -far. The worst had been over a long time, and she could look the future -in the face. She was sure she did not care now as acutely as once she -had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> done. She would do him this kindness for old times sake, and -then she must begin to put him out of her life. But it was a hateful -business. She might meet scorn at the girl's hands—worse, Jim might -hear of her errand and think she was willing to throw pride away, if -by hook or by crook she could clutch back his affection. Well, love -must go on many services, and the trusted servant travels always by -unkindest ways.</p> - -<p>She ordered Stockings forward, and he backed from the edge of the Pool -into the trees and followed the bridle path where soon the camp would -discover itself. The gentle birds piped them down their passage. The -hut came out among the trees. It looked mean and shabby from long -wooing by the weather. The hessian walls were drooping and the tents -had crumbled.</p> - -<p>She pulled up the horse before he had carried her from the shelter of -the trees. She was disturbed again as to what to do. She must pretend -to come that way by chance. And how do that? She might ride up to the -door and ask for a cup of water. And then father or mother might open -to her. Well, things would happen as they would happen, and wit was the -serving man to enlist.</p> - -<p>When she was ready to give Stockings the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> signal to advance, he lifted -his ears. She followed their direction and discovered she was watched. -Next instant she found the watcher was the girl she had come to find. -The child must have gone among the trees to gather dead branches for -firewood, and now stood there among the trunks, as still as they, -staring at her boldly. The figure might have been a dryad pausing on -the instant before flight. Its loveliness wounded her as though a -dart had been cast at her. Who could look upon such beauty and after -be content with less? She touched the flank of her big horse, and he -carried her across the space still to traverse. He came to full stop -when she tightened the reins.</p> - -<p>She must be the first to speak. The girl had stood unmoved the while, -looking her boldly in the face. She wondered if she guessed her name -from hearsay.</p> - -<p>"That must be hot work for the middle of the day. It would have waited -for evening. But I'm setting no better example, am I, riding about the -country like this? I was glad to find these trees."</p> - -<p>She looked the girl over from head to foot. She judged her to be -eighteen years old or no more than nineteen, but a flower which had -come quick to bloom. She looked her over with uncharitable eyes, but -nowhere found fault. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> gave up the task to tell herself never had -she seen such beauty. The girl returned stare for stare.</p> - -<p>"I was gettin' a few sticks together," Moll Gregory answered. "Dad went -off without chopping a thing this morning, and we've run short."</p> - -<p>"Are you in a hurry to be back with them?"</p> - -<p>"No. Why?"</p> - -<p>"I've made myself hot. This looks a nice place to spend a minute or -two. Will you keep me company a little while? I must soon go on."</p> - -<p>Maud dismounted, the better to push matters forward. As she patted -the old horse she looked about for a seat. A fallen tree lay at hand, -and she dropped the reins upon the ground and sat down upon it. Moll -Gregory stood where she was, her eyes wide open. It seemed solitude -had not taught her to be shy. It occurred to Maud she must not delay. -At any moment the father or mother might come out of the doorway and -opportunity be gone.</p> - -<p>"You have a lovely place to live in," she said. "But you must find it -out of the way. It's a long fag to Surprise."</p> - -<p>"It's a treat for us. There isn't too much doing round here."</p> - -<p>"I dare say. But loneliness has not kept you quite hidden. You are -better known than you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> may think. I had heard of you before we met -to-day. You are Moll Gregory, aren't you? You know a friend of mine. -Mr. Power, of Kaloona. He told me about you once. He said he had met -you in his travels."</p> - -<p>The eyes which looked at her big with curiosity fell asleep all in a -moment. But the change made their loveliness no less lovely.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know Mr. Power."</p> - -<p>"I'm a great friend of his. We have been friends a long time. Almost -brother and sister. We tell each other most secrets."</p> - -<p>She wished the girl would say something. But instead, Moll Gregory -continued to stand before her, beautiful and sulky. It was the sense -of hurry in the matter that found her courage to go on. "Yes, we are -pretty staunch friends," she said desperately. She took courage in both -hands. "He told me how fond he had become of you lately."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Power is a poor sort of feller to go running about with tales."</p> - -<p>The insult brought speech crowding into her mouth. "When you know Mr. -Power a little better you will find him to be no very expert merchant -of stories. Friend to friend is an honest enough matter. And as a -matter of fact——" She stopped. She had not courage to say she had -been her own bloodhound. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Well, and what about it?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose there's not much to say about it, is there, since it's no -affair of mine? But I hear my friend has little enough to be glad over, -for it seems you don't care much for him. I'm his friend, and so I'm -sorry. That's all."</p> - -<p>"He thinks that, do he?"</p> - -<p>"And is it true?"</p> - -<p>"That's my business, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"It's nobody's business that I have ever heard to let a man make -himself miserable, and for his pains give him neither no or yes."</p> - -<p>"A girl don't always ask a man to come crying after her. You don't -expect a girl to nurse every man that runs at her skirt."</p> - -<p>"There is such a thing as kindness."</p> - -<p>Moll Gregory shrugged her shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Don't think Mr. Power sent me here to plead for him. He can look after -himself in most cases I have found. But I am so great a friend of his -that it distresses me to see him so unhappy. The quicker he is sent -about his business the sooner he will find cure. I hate to interfere; -but it was for old acquaintance sake I came along to-day to ask you to -help me put things into better shape. I tell you Mr. Power is a changed -man this last month. It hurts me keenly to see him come to this."</p> - -<p>"I will tell him the worry he's givin' you." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You must never say a word about this visit."</p> - -<p>"Why not? You are a kind friend."</p> - -<p>"You must not say one word."</p> - -<p>"Not say Miss Neville called? The Miss Neville as was going to marry -him."</p> - -<p>She could have cried aloud at the hurt, and the next moment a cold -courage possessed her. "You cannot hurt me like that," she said in a -level voice, "and I have done my best to take care of your feelings. -True, I am engaged to Mr. Power, and we should have been married had he -not become fond of you. I have spent a good many unhappy hours lately, -as no doubt you suppose; but no anxieties of my own would have brought -me here to haggle and bargain. That might have happened when I lost my -head in the beginning; but I have had long enough to look things in the -face and accept what must be. Understand me then, I am still fond of -Mr. Power in spite of what has happened and I want to do what I can to -help. If you have ever loved a man, you will believe me. If you don't -know what love is, you will have to think as you like, and I suppose I -shall be none the worse or better for the verdict."</p> - -<p>"There's others have been in love besides you, Miss Neville. There's -others have had their kisses."</p> - -<p>"Kisses! I mean something more than kisses.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> When you are older you -won't weigh love by kisses. You will find love grows deeper down than -the kisses that stop in the doorway of your mouth. You will find love -sending you on errands like this one I am come on to-day, and you will -be grateful enough to run them, though all you buy is rudeness and -scorn. Love is a queer plant when you sow it properly. It makes shade -for some one man, and you find yourself glad to sit in the open and -watch it grow. Come, I am talking wildly again."</p> - -<p>"Have him if he's to be got. I'm not breaking my heart what comes."</p> - -<p>"Don't let us quarrel. I know you've not asked for my visit. I shall be -glad enough to find it done; but we have come together, and let us see -together a little while. I have made a bad beginning. I meant to speak -gently."</p> - -<p>Moll Gregory turned away impatiently. It seemed they had come to a -deadlock; but help was at hand. There were the sounds of steps, and a -man of moulting appearance with tools upon his shoulder came out of the -trees towards the hut. He was passing out of their direction, but he -threw a glance over his shoulder before going far on the way. He saw -them at once, and stopped.</p> - -<p>"Hullo, Moll, gel, out of doors? And a visitor, too. Why, it's Miss -Neville from Surprise." He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> came across at a clumsy, fawning run. "It's -Miss Neville, and I'm very pleased to meet you. You may have heard of -me from the old gentleman your father. As nice an old gentleman as one -would meet in a day's work. Miss Neville, to be sure, doin' us this -honour. Miss Neville come our way." A dirty hand was pushed forward. -Gregory began to hump his shoulders, pluck his beard and swell his -chest. "Well, Miss Neville, and what can have brought you all this way -in the heat?"</p> - -<p>"I was passing and thought it looked cool among the trees. But I must -be away again. I've rested long enough."</p> - -<p>Maud moved towards the horse; but Gregory became more friendly. "You -won't be gettin' back yet, Miss Neville? Oh, no, Miss Neville, we can't -let you go. The missis is inside there. Moll here can get tea going in -a minute. Mother! Are you there?"</p> - -<p>The woman came out of the house, and stared in their direction.</p> - -<p>"Miss Neville from Surprise has come our way. You can give her a taste -of tea, can't yer? Come inside, Miss Neville. Yes, we folk will be in a -bad way when we have no seat for Miss Neville. A-haw, haw, haw! A-haw, -haw, he, haw!"</p> - -<p>"No thanks, I'm sorry. I must be going at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> once. If I am round these -parts again I won't forget to call and find out who is at home. I must -be going at once. I'm sorry to look so rude."</p> - -<p>"Come, Miss Neville, it's not many visitors ride our way. We've not -much to offer, but its our best when you comes. The show has gone down -into a hundred foot of rock, and storekeepers aren't too flash with -tick just now. But there's always our best for Miss Neville."</p> - -<p>There seemed a press about the horse, but Maud was firm in purpose and -mounted. She hated the greedy face of the man. She liked no better -the lovely features of the girl. She was in a rage with herself for -considering the undertaking. The man and the woman in the doorway of -the hut were exchanging glances at her back.</p> - -<p>"Good-bye," she said, as she drew together the reins. "You mustn't -think me rude, but I have to get along."</p> - -<p>She would have walked over the man had he not stepped out of the way.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XVIII</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Bottom of the Valley</span></span></h2> - -<p>When the same afternoon had worn to evening, Power rode down to the -river. His comings and goings at the hut passed unremarked. Gregory -kept always ready his loud welcome, and his wife asked no questions and -made no difficulties.</p> - -<p>Power arrived every evening at sunset, and spent by the Pool the -first hours of dark. For this end he endured the remainder of the -day. He walked now on the very bottom of the valley into which he had -descended. He rode no more to Surprise, and, calamity on calamity, he -was losing Mick O'Neill, his friend. Gloom bestrode a third horse when -they rode together on the work of the run, until by one accord they -sought each other out as little as need be; and in mute agreement came -to visit here, the one when the other should be gone.</p> - -<p>The sun had gone down on the edge of the plain when Power reached the -Pool. As he entered the trees darkness was falling, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> stars were -coming out. When the horse brought him into the clearing the lamplight -looked from the doorway of the hut in a broad beam and voices met him -from indoors. He tethered the beast in an old place and put the saddle -on end at the foot of a tree. Before he had done Moll Gregory was -standing in the doorway of the hut.</p> - -<p>"Is that you, Jim?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Molly."</p> - -<p>He went across to her. Father and mother were within. Gregory swung on -his seat in anxious welcome, and the woman nodded good-night. The four -of them talked together for a little while.</p> - -<p>"Round agen to see us?" cried Gregory. "Been about the run to-day I -reckon from the look of you. Hot work moving about in the middle of the -day. It don't seem to cool off at night now. The rains must be coming."</p> - -<p>"It looks like it," Power answered.</p> - -<p>"Have you heard what's happened?" said the woman. "The boss here -ran into Mr. King yesterday. Mr. King won't touch the show since it -went into the hard stuff, and says the boss owes him twenty quid or -something and has a paper to show it." She turned bitterly on Gregory. -"You always was a fool rushing to sign things." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I had to keep going somehow, mother."</p> - -<p>Moll raised her head. "I'll fix it, dad, when he's round next."</p> - -<p>"I suppose things aren't too good lately?" Power said.</p> - -<p>"I reckon they aren't. Since the show turned out a fake, there's not a -bob to be raised anywhere. They're turning up tick at the store; too. -They growl if you ask for a tin of dog."</p> - -<p>"I reckon, Dad, Mr. Power might give us a hand until things was better, -if it was put to him," said the woman.</p> - -<p>"Is that what you are after?" Power answered.</p> - -<p>"A-haw, haw, haw! We wouldn't say no if you made the offer," said -Gregory, showing his dirty teeth.</p> - -<p>"I'll think about it."</p> - -<p>"There's a gentleman for you, mother! Put it here, Mr. Power." Gregory -pushed out a dirty hand.</p> - -<p>"It's early yet," Power answered from the doorway.</p> - -<p>Presently Power and Molly were wandering among the trees—the night -fallen upon them, dark, hot and murmurous with tiny voices.</p> - -<p>They wandered along old ways, and said again old sayings, and did again -old deeds. Who shall answer why she was ready to wander with him night -by night through these majestic ways,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> taking his kisses, lying within -his arms, and caring nothing for him? Lips set upon lips—no more -could his kisses mean to her. Perhaps she had grown so lonely that she -could bid no one begone. Perhaps twenty years of that hot land had set -in flames her little heart. Perhaps it was her doom to fan fever and -make men mad. Why did he come and come again, a threadbare lover, the -despised even of himself? Why was he so unwearying with his embraces, -unless it was because he had become an amorous wandering Jew, who had -scoffed once at pure lips, and must now kiss for ever, and for ever -fail to set passion afire.</p> - -<p>They sat down presently on a fallen tree lying among the climbing -grasses at the upper end of the Pool. Night by night he and she from -their seat there had remarked the margin of the water shrink from them. -To-night they sat down again—he to wonder at his madness, she to do a -hundred wanton acts—to tease the dog, to toss boughs upon the water -and hark to the sudden splash.</p> - -<p>"Molly, what did you mean just now when you said you would make things -right with Mr. King? Twenty pounds is twenty pounds to him and always -will be."</p> - -<p>"Aw, I didn't mean much. I know how to fix him. That's all." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Child, you don't have dealings with him now, do you? You told me you -never saw him."</p> - -<p>"I can't help it if he comes. He's not this way too often."</p> - -<p>"What terms are you on with him? Tell me the truth."</p> - -<p>"It's not to do with you, I reckon, what our terms are. I've been kind -to you when you asked me."</p> - -<p>"You don't understand. All men are not like me. I sit here night by -night hanging my hands, too fond of you to do you harm. But other -men——. Tell me. I won't be angry. Has he ever persuaded you too far?"</p> - -<p>"A gel only lives once. You told me that yourself."</p> - -<p>"Molly! If half the world comes knocking on your door must you let them -all in?"</p> - -<p>"You could have had as much as him. Wake up, Jim. There's news for you."</p> - -<p>"I don't feel like news just now."</p> - -<p>"We had a stranger round these ways to-day. Guess who."</p> - -<p>"I am a poor guesser."</p> - -<p>"Guess."</p> - -<p>"Man or woman?"</p> - -<p>"Woman."</p> - -<p>"I don't know a woman to come all this way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> Not Mrs. Elliott, -forgotten to-night's supper, and climbed on to a horse?"</p> - -<p>"Miss Neville."</p> - -<p>"Maud!"</p> - -<p>"Her."</p> - -<p>"Well," he said coldly after a moment. "What have you to tell me?"</p> - -<p>"There's nothing to tell. I thought it news for you, that's all."</p> - -<p>"She must have ridden this way for a change. She often rides."</p> - -<p>"She came to see Moll Gregory, and she saw Moll Gregory."</p> - -<p>"What is it you are wanting to tell me? Be quick if you mean to say -anything."</p> - -<p>"That's not the way to ask for news."</p> - -<p>"Very well. We won't discuss her further."</p> - -<p>"You and she is too grand for us poor people. She came here on a like -high racket to ask me to give you yes or no, and she tells me it's not -on her account she's come; but because she is sorry for you. She says -if I have loved somebody I'll know what she means. I can count a feller -for every feller of hers."</p> - -<p>"That's enough."</p> - -<p>"What's enough?"</p> - -<p>"Enough said. We've talked enough of this."</p> - -<p>"Turning sulky now. Miss Neville will be kind to you if you go back." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Molly, there's a good child, don't tease my temper any more. We'll -talk of what you like, but forget this one thing. Why should I say a -word in her defence? How does she need it, who is so far from our reach -that you can't understand her, and I haven't the skill to price what -I have lost? If you want to learn what love is go to her with your -lesson books. All I have done has been of no account. You and I, child, -could kiss on and on for ever, and with us all the crying lovers who -count love a mere spending of kisses; and all those kisses kissed would -fly up in the scales when what she had to bring was laid in the other -balance."</p> - -<p>He fell into a sudden black mood—an evil habit he had learned lately. -He remembered he sat upon the fallen tree, and at his feet in the -coarse grasses lay the loveliest woman he would ever look upon. The -night was shrill with tiny voices, and endless lightnings opened and -closed the skies, but for the time these things did not affect him.</p> - -<p>It seemed he was coming to the bottom of the cup whose rim his lips -had held for so long. The last drops were against his mouth and the -sediment was on his tongue. And, lo! it appeared as if some virtue in -the sediment quickened the eyesight of the spirit, for at last he could -point a finger and say <i>there</i> was substance and there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> shadow. Lo! -what he had once thought substance was now revealed as shadow, and what -he had believed shadow was assuredly substance.</p> - -<p>He woke up when the child laid a hand in his own. "Say something, Jim, -or I am going home." He kissed her very gently and started to talk to -her. But from that hour his passion began to die.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XIX</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Selwyns return South</span></span></h2> - -<p>November counted away its days, and tramped down the long stairs of -Time. At its heels arrived December. Now was Summer at last begun in -this far land.</p> - -<p>Seven days of every week a fiery sun rolled through a wide, high, empty -sky. Seven noons of every week discovered that sun mounting a little -higher. All day long the roofs of the iron houses glared across the -distance, and the walls answered hot to the touch. But Surprise—and -all that lies within its gates—was not dismayed. Evening by evening, -when the sun was getting to bed, frowning clouds banked upon the -horizon, and Mrs. Boulder, Mrs. Bloxham and Mrs. Niven, gasping in the -doorways of their humpies, looked southward and said the rains were -coming. And Boulder, Bloxham and Niven put an eye to the roof here, and -an eye to the wall there, and thoughtfully picked up hammer and twine. -But always in the morning,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> when the sun rolled out of the East, the -least cloud had fled away.</p> - -<p>Round went the wheel of affairs at Surprise Valley. The whistle blew -shrill at eight o'clock, and the waiting cage emptied the men into the -dark ways of their subterranean world. Overhead the women bustled about -their doors, and the children, grown a little browner and a little -harder, pattered about the burnt places and sent abroad their calls. -Mr. Neville, manager, made his tumultuous early round. Mr. Horrington, -general agent, made his nine o'clock march to the hotel. The teams -groaned in with firewood. The weekly coach rolled in and out again. The -same goats examined once more the same thread-bare strips of ground. -The same long-tongued curs dropped down in familiar patches of shade.</p> - -<p>Early in December Mrs. Selwyn put her foot down finally and to good -purpose. She would not be cooped up in this desperate place with a -prospect of presently drowning. If Hilton would not come he could stay -behind and take the consequences; but she was going by the very next -coach. How they would survive the journey in this heat was beyond her -powers of comprehension. Landing her here without an idea for getting -her away was exactly what Hilton was capable of. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> - -<p>Selwyn bowed to his wife's decision. Here he was, asked to pack up -traps for home just as the river was at its lowest and there was some -thundering good crocodile shooting to be had. Soft-hearted fool that he -was!</p> - -<p>As a result there fell about a great packing up of rods and guns, and -a strapping of trunks; and a grey December dawn found the Neville -homestead up and awake and hard engaged upon the utmost business of -departure. A fire kept vigil in the kitchen, conjured there by Mrs. -Nankervis who had forsaken bed to speed a favourite guest. There was -coffee in the dining-room, and a generous breakfast of bacon and eggs, -though Mrs. Selwyn could not touch a thing. Fortunately Selwyn was -better able to prepare against the rigours of the day.</p> - -<p>Breakfast proved an uneasy meal, disturbed by comings in and goings -out, with Selwyn wandering between the window and the table, and -Neville strolling round, stick in one hand and coffee cup in the other.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Selwyn presently, feeling considerably better now he could -boast a decent lining to his stomach, "you people have given us a -first-rate time here, and you wouldn't have got rid of me yet had I my -way. Gad! I'm a different fellow." He smiled benignly on the assembled -company, and presently met Maud's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> answering smile. "Some day we may -have the good luck to find the way here again. In any case we are soon -to see you down South I hear?"</p> - -<p>"I promised to come next month."</p> - -<p>"I wish we could tempt you too, Mr. Neville," Mrs. Selwyn said.</p> - -<p>"Eh?" said the old man, jerking about. "Thanks, but I've no time to be -running round the country."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Selwyn, taking hold of the conversation again. "I think -perhaps I shall be wise to have another go of marmalade and toast. -There's nothing like starting a journey well supplied. A couple of -months back I couldn't touch a thing. Not a thing. Now I feel another -man. I——"</p> - -<p>"Haven't you a little pity for us at this hour of the morning?" Mrs. -Selwyn enquired.</p> - -<p>A terrific frown settled on Selwyn's face.</p> - -<p>"I was listening," said Maud. "I was very interested."</p> - -<p>Selwyn beamed again.</p> - -<p>"You had better get on with the toast then," said Neville, "or ye'll -be waiting another week. The fellow doesn't like keeping his horses -hanging about. He'll be away without you. I may be wrong. Huh, huh!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Selwyn scorned a buggy, and insisted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> upon walking to the coach. -The clock pointed the final minute. Selwyn dodged to the back premises -to say his most charming good-bye to Mrs. Nankervis, and with the -last hand-shake slipped the smiling sovereign into her clasp. After -something of a to-do he brought the dogs round to the front where the -rest of the party waited, and they set out upon the journey to the -coach. Mr. King had turned a deaf ear to the amours of bed and joined -them upon the road; and the company made a bold line advancing across -the drowsy distances of Surprise.</p> - -<p>Day had arrived, but the sun still delayed its arrival.</p> - -<p>"It seems perfectly incredible to be awake in this place and not see -the sun," said Mrs. Selwyn.</p> - -<p>Selwyn shook his head in deep appreciation of himself. "You had my -example."</p> - -<p>The day was still in swaddling clothes; but already the men and women -of Surprise were waking up. Surly fires were growing here and there. -Mrs. Boulder was in time to peer from her doorway at the backs of the -retreating company; Mrs. Niven stopped her discourse to Niven as she -heard voices across the distance; and Messrs. Bullock and Johnson, who -were outside their camps at a morning wash, stayed in the towelling of -their faces to view the noble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> sight. It was the week for the visit of -Mr. Pericles Smith, travelling schoolmaster, and his two tents stood -erect and stiff by the side of the way. As the party of five marched -by, a woman's voice was raised.</p> - -<p>"Perry, aren't you very late this morning? There was not a stick of -wood chopped last night."</p> - -<p>From the other tent came answer: "In one moment, dear."</p> - -<p>"Ah, Perry, you are not wasting time at that rubbish, already?"</p> - -<p>But this time came only a groan and the sound of someone rising to his -feet.</p> - -<p>The harmony of excursion was nowise upset until the party had arrived -within near view of the hotel, before which stood the ancient coach -and the five goose-rumped horses asleep in the traces. Then Selwyn, on -the flank, started back. The eyes of all turned to the doorway of the -hotel. Mr. Horrington stood upon the step, stick in one hand, empty -tobacco pouch in the other—perhaps a little seedy, perhaps a little -depressed, because of the early hour; but firm in the intention of -giving his friend bon voyage.</p> - -<p>Selwyn's hand glided towards a pocket and there found comfort.</p> - -<p>"Be Gad!" he said, "I expected to slip to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> covert behind his back, and -here he is standing at the mouth of the earth."</p> - -<p>"You ask for the loan of half-a-crown," said Neville, jerking his head. -"He, he! Huh, huh, huh!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Horrington lifted his stick in majestic salutation. "You didn't -expect me, I dare say. However, I had no intention of letting an old -friend slip away without a handshake." He laughed his rusty laugh. -He recalled suddenly the empty tobacco pouch in his hand. "Here's -the result of coming away in a hurry. I neglected to replenish this -morning. Five minutes ago I was thinking of stoking up the first pipe -of the day when I saw what had happened. How about the loan of a -pipeful? I am always covetous of a dip into your pouch, Mr. Selwyn. -Really, I must get the address of your tobacconist before you are off."</p> - -<p>Then indeed it seemed that Mr. Horrington led that party of three men -through the doorway of the hotel, and later that Mr. Horrington drank -three times at the expense of other people. Later still, when the -quartette came out into the open, where the sun's rim was climbing over -the horizon, it seemed that Selwyn's eye was shining and himself full -of a sudden energy, that Mr. King stepped more briskly than was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> his -wont, and that old Neville's laugh was a trifle loud.</p> - -<p>Time would not listen to delay, and there arrived the final moments. -The Selwyn luggage was strapped secure beside the mail-bags, and -Scabbyback and Gripper now found an uncharitable seat atop there. Joe -Gantley climbed into the driver's seat and shook the team awake, when -they changed to other legs and dropped their heads once more. Mr. -Horrington ran his tongue along the edge of his moustache again. Joe -Gantley picked up his whip, put it down, picked it up a second time, -and gave the signal for passengers to mount.</p> - -<p>The company gathered close beside the coach. There arose many -exclamations and much shaking of hands. Last thanks were said. Last -promises were made. Last advice was given. Mrs. Selwyn mounted without -misadventure beside the driver. She still felt most unwell. She did not -know whether she was on her crown or her toes. Selwyn took his seat at -the end of the room, and discreetly and regretfully elbowed the way -into a good position. Everybody gave more last advice. Mrs. Selwyn -nodded her head graciously and finally. Selwyn smiled his most charming -smile. Maud laughed. Neville chuckled. Mr. Horrington raised his stick -augustly. King called out good luck. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> - -<p>Joe Gantley drew the reins together and cracked his whip. The team -jerked into wakefulness and fell into their collars. The coach jerked -forward. Mrs. Selwyn and Selwyn jerked forward. Scabbyback and Gripper -jerked forward. There were a tapping of hoofs and a groaning of wood, -and the coach rolled towards Morning Springs.</p> - -<p>"Well," said the old man looking after it, "I may be wrong, huh, huh! -but I reckon we can get along without them. I may be wrong, huh, huh!"</p> - -<p>Such was the manner of the Selwyn going.</p> - -<p>Even as the coach rolled over the first mile of the journey, and grew -pigmy in the distance so that the loitering dust cloud concealed -it—even as it bumped across the outskirts of the camp—the crimson sun -cast savage glances across the valley, slashing the iron roofs to life, -livening the dingy walls of humpies and tents, and wooing the first -flies from sleep. Over all the camp breakfast fires were growing, and -men and women moved in and out of doors on the primal matters of the -morning.</p> - -<p>December, following the teachings of November, began to spend its days, -holding them out one by one and tossing them into the mouth of Time. -Each day proved a little longer and a little hotter to the people of -that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> courageous camp. But though the season drew presently towards the -height of the summer, Power found the days too short for the journey to -Surprise.</p> - -<p>While Maud lived her life at Surprise and gave events into the keeping -of Time, Power still rode to Pelican Pool, but his passion was near its -end. As his brain cooled, as his malady abated, he comprehended his -position with tragic clearness, and saw the high price of what he had -thrown away. His wealth was spent on other wares, and he could not hope -to buy it again. So be it. He had chosen a bed of thistles because the -flower had seemed soft and gracious, and he would lie on it without -complaint. And still he rode day by day to the river.</p> - -<p>December grew middle-aged, and every sunset painted once more the -swelling cloud wrack in the South, until the evening arrived when Mr. -Horrington borrowed from the staff messhouse the single boot-last of -Surprise, borrowed from the engine driver a piece of leather belting, -borrowed from elsewhere a hammer and cobbler's nails, and sat down to -re-sole his boots against grievous days.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XX</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Farewell by the Hut</span></span></h2> - -<p>There dawned at last a day hotter and longer than any the summer yet -had sent. With break of morning banks of sullen clouds were rolling -out of the South into an empty sky. The sun sulked overhead, showing a -fitful fiery face, and the air rose steaming from the ground. Little -winds came out of the South, blew brief nervous breaths, and like silly -spendthrifts wore themselves to death. Before evening was come, the -men and women of Surprise had stood again and again in their doorways -to eye the sky, to snuff the air, and to declare the rains must break -before morning.</p> - -<p>In the teeth of these warnings, when afternoon wore out to evening, and -dark came down to shroud the stifled day, when in the high sky not one -star could find a porthole to look through, Power rode down to Pelican -Pool. Kaloona, as well as Surprise, had read the signs of the heavens, -and Power judged the storm would burst before dawn. Dark had fallen -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>half-an-hour when he guided his horse among the trees by the river.</p> - -<p>He drew rein on the edge of the clearing in the timber, and from his -seat in the saddle looked across the open. Through the doorway of the -hut, in a long bright beam, the light came to divide the dark. Molly -sat upon a box in the doorway against a background of light. Black she -seemed, and around her was a radiance of light, and outside the light -waited the steaming dark. She sat in a reverie, her elbows on her -knees, her chin in her hands, and when the sounds of the horse reached -her, she gave no sign other than calling out, "Is that you, Jim?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Molly." Power took the saddle from his horse, and came into the -eye of the lamp. The hut was empty when he glanced inside. "Alone -to-night, Molly? Are they over at the shaft?"</p> - -<p>"No, they went to Surprise this morning. They reckoned to be home by -dark. I thought you might be them. Maybe Dad is soaked. Mum takes a -drop times, too."</p> - -<p>"They had better be back soon if they mean to be back dry. The rains -are here at last." A mutter of thunder began very far away. "Listen!"</p> - -<p>Power took off his hat and tossed it on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> table in the hut. His -dress was a shirt wide open at the neck, and his sleeves were rolled up -above his elbows. But the night grew hotter moment by moment. Molly, -on the box, kept her chin in her hands and stared out into the dark, -and he felt no more talkative than she. He leaned back against the -doorpost. As he did so a second mutter of thunder began very far away. -The trees were wrapped from sight in the dark. Not one star peered from -the sky.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter, Molly? Have we left you too long alone? Your -little tongue has gone to sleep, thinking there was no more use for it -to-night." She did not answer, and he thought she shivered. He bent -down this time and spoke sharply. "What's making you shiver, child? You -have not a touch of fever, have you? You had better wrap up quick and -get away from the open."</p> - -<p>"It isn't fever."</p> - -<p>Something in her voice made him stoop down until they were face to -face. "What's the matter? You are changed to-night."</p> - -<p>"Aw, nothing is the matter."</p> - -<p>She would not look round, and must stare on into the dark. Power sat on -his heels on her right hand. He lit a pipe and waited for the strange -mood to pass away. He was damp with perspiration, and the sultriness of -the night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> rested on him like a weight. Then he heard a voice.</p> - -<p>"The old dog died to-day."</p> - -<p>"Bluey?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Bluey."</p> - -<p>"Bad luck for Bluey. He was very old."</p> - -<p>"I reckon I shall miss him."</p> - -<p>"Did you bury him?"</p> - -<p>"I couldn't find the shovel. I chucked him in the trees over there. Dad -can fix him to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"Is that what you have been thinking of all to-night?"</p> - -<p>She ignored him again. The light from the doorway showed every line of -her perfect profile, and by putting out a hand he could have touched -the hair lying about her brows. Though he looked upon her beauty every -night, he never found it grow less wonderful; but now he discovered -with a curious sense of shame that he contemplated it with the calm -born of dying passion. He would never see again so rare a work of art -as this casket, but alackaday! he had opened the lid, and the delicate -thing was empty.</p> - -<p>"Jim, I was glad when you came along. It made me feel queer to leave -the old dog stretched out over there. Do you reckon it true<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> folk -sometimes feel in their bones what is to happen?"</p> - -<p>"What have you got in your head, child?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe I am talking moonshine; but I can't get the notion off me that I -won't be long following the old dog."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk nonsense, Molly."</p> - -<p>She shrugged her shoulders in the brief fashion he found so charming. -The growl of thunder came a third time from the distance, grumbling -louder and enduring longer than the claps which had sounded before, and -on the echo of this final rumble a feverish breeze sprang up, and wooed -the hair upon her forehead and laid a kind breath against his cheek. -Power looked in the track of the storm and saw only the black sky. He -began to doubt if the burst would wait for midnight. He wanted to rouse -the child into better spirits, but himself must first summon courage to -shake off the oppression of the night. Now she was speaking again—to -herself as much as to him.</p> - -<p>"Maybe it isn't hard to die. The old dog was curled round quiet and -easy when I found him. Sometimes when I get fair sick of hearing mum -and dad and of doin' the same old things, I think it easier to be dead -than to start to-morrow." She broke without warning into low, charming -laughter. "When we have sat a few weeks <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span>inside there with the rain -coming through every crack of the roof and each of us fair tired of -looking at the other, we'll reckon it a better game to be dead than -alive."</p> - -<p>"Wise men say there is another life to be lived when this one is done -with, Molly."</p> - -<p>"I've heard that story before, Jim. There was a parson round our ways -once with a pack-horse. He reckoned there was more business when we had -done with this place. I got him talking, for I hadn't seen a feller for -a month. But I expect there isn't too much in the tale. What do you -think, Mister?"</p> - -<p>"Why Mister again?"</p> - -<p>"Jim."</p> - -<p>"If there is, let us hope we make less muddle of things next time."</p> - -<p>"Phew! it's hot. See the lightning. You will have a wet skin to go home -in. No, I don't want to die yet. Some things don't happen too bad. I'd -be sorry not to ride a horse again or to go fishing or to hear the -birds. It isn't too bad of a morning when the sun first comes over -the plain, and it isn't too bad to hear the noises in the scrub of a -night." She stopped to smile. "And I don't want to say good-bye to you -fellows."</p> - -<p>"So you like us just a little bit after all?"</p> - -<p>For the first time she gave up watching the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> dark and looked round at -him out of grave eyes. He was startled at their solemnity and wondered -what she was going to say. She laid a hand upon his arm.</p> - -<p>"Jim, you and me are near come to the end of things, aren't we? You -aren't always fretting to kiss me now as you was. I reckon soon you -will be quite through with me."</p> - -<p>"Molly!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, it is true."</p> - -<p>He said nothing, but presently he moved beside her and put an arm about -her. She was staring into the dark again, and he laid his cheek against -her cheek, and they looked together in the direction where the storm -was rolling up.</p> - -<p>"It is time to talk about things, Molly, and there is nobody to disturb -us. When the rains come, this riding to and fro will have an end. What -is to become of us all—tell me, child? Time never stops, you know. -Life never stands still. And it looks, doesn't it, as if a man or woman -can never go back, can never stay still even, but must go on? A long -while now three men have come day by day to offer you all they have, -but not to one of them have you yet nodded your head. I wish time knew -how to stand still, so that we could have stayed as we are for ever, as -though love like some enchanter had touched us with his wand; but time -is in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> hurry, and I think at last you must choose one of us and send -the others gently about their business. Molly, whisper it. Who is it to -be?"</p> - -<p>"If you was a girl that lived alone all day with only an old dog as -mate, you wouldn't find it easy to shake your head when a man said he -liked you. Why are you always thinking and worrying so? Why don't you -let things be?"</p> - -<p>"It is time, it is not me, who won't let things stand still."</p> - -<p>"Jim, talk straight with me. You are through with me, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>"Molly, I would ask you to marry me, but I know we wouldn't be happy -very long."</p> - -<p>He felt her take her cheek away as though he had startled her. -Presently, when she spoke, her voice was more gentle than he had ever -known it.</p> - -<p>"You are a good fellow; but it don't make any difference, nor make me -think other of what I know. You have come to the end of me, and it is -only because you are a good fellow that you talk of marriage. There's -no need to worry over what has gone by. Kisses don't last long after -they are kissed, and a girl wouldn't come to much harm with such as -you." She laughed again. "Fancy me the wife of the boss of Kaloona. Mum -and dad have been rowing me about it since the start. You are a good -fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> to come here with a long face and talk about marriage, but you -always was a bit soft and none the worse for that."</p> - -<p>While she was speaking the breeze wore out in a final timid flutter, -and the heat returned to the night, and then, while he sat there -acknowledging with a certain grim humour her words left him unmoved, he -felt her nestle against him.</p> - -<p>"I would not marry you if you wanted, but I will give you a kiss -instead, for I know you are a straight fellow, and that is not -forgetting what has happened with you and Miss Neville. Come, Mister, -look this way."</p> - -<p>He bent his head and they kissed where the beam of light clove the -dark, and it seemed to him there was less passion and more fondness in -that kiss than in all the kisses they had kissed before. Presently he -took his lips from hers, and she laid her head upon his shoulder.</p> - -<p>"What has made you so kind to-night, Molly?"</p> - -<p>He was forgotten again. She was looking into the dark as though her -sight pierced it and regarded something beyond. He could see only the -outline of her head; but in imagination he looked into her eyes which -were sleepy with dreams. A flutter of wind sprang up again in the -South—a flash of light opened and shut the heavens—there followed a -row-de-dow of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> thunder. The sudden commotion no whit disturbed her; but -a moment after she was speaking.</p> - -<p>"Mister, I've got a queer feeling. It won't let me be. Something is -going to happen." She shivered again. "Do you reckon there are things -that come and go, and we can't see them?"</p> - -<p>"No, silly child. We have behaved badly to you. We left you alone all -day, and your little brain, which was not meant for hard thinking, has -been run away with by big thoughts. Come, we still have our talk to -finish. We are to tell the truth to-night, and the time has come for -you to choose one of us. Whisper me the name.... Molly, I am waiting -for it.... Molly.... Then I shall have to tell you. Mick is the name -that tangles up your tongue."</p> - -<p>"Poor Mr. Power."</p> - -<p>"I have always known."</p> - -<p>"And now you are glad."</p> - -<p>"Are you going to marry him, Molly?"</p> - -<p>"Some day maybe."</p> - -<p>"He is a straight man, child. You couldn't choose a straighter one."</p> - -<p>Once more the wind had fluttered itself to death. She lifted her hair -from her brows to cool her forehead.</p> - -<p>"It will be a real old man storm and the roof<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> isn't too good. Mum and -Dad will be at it to-morrow as soon as the rain comes through. See the -lightning that time?"</p> - -<p>Now, in a mysterious way, the night began to cool, and a rush of wind -leapt up and swept towards them from the distance. It broke upon the -timbered country with a loud cry, clapping and clashing the boughs -together. And presently it plucked at the hair of his head and snatched -at the folds of her dress. And then it had swept by, leaving the night -cooler for its passage.</p> - -<p>"What are you thinking of, Molly?"</p> - -<p>"That was how you liked me, and now it has all blown away."</p> - -<p>"Don't talk like that."</p> - -<p>"When are you going to see Miss Neville?"</p> - -<p>"I never see her now. Things have become muddled past straightening -out."</p> - -<p>"But you will be seeing her soon, I reckon?"</p> - -<p>"No. I tried to sit on two stools, and I have fallen between them."</p> - -<p>She laughed gently, and put a hand into one of his. "Why are you so -stupid sometimes? You are always so fond of questions. It is my turn. -Jim, you are in love with Miss Neville, aren't you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Molly."</p> - -<p>"Then what's wrong?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> - -<p>"A good deal seems to be wrong, child."</p> - -<p>"When you sit there with a long face, I can't help teasing you. I -reckon you haven't learnt too much about girls yet. There's something I -can tell you, and don't frown and scowl at once. Miss Neville was round -these ways again this afternoon. Don't look like that, I said."</p> - -<p>"Go on, but be kind."</p> - -<p>"I won't tell you why she came nor what she said; but I didn't take her -up short this time. I was glad to see her, for the old dog dying had -made me lonely. When she was going away, she asked if I was marrying -you, and I thought to do you a daddy turn at last, for sometimes you -are a good fellow. I told her you was through with me, and that you -wanted her again only you was too high and mighty to go back. This is -straight wire, Jim."</p> - -<p>Silence fell between them. All the while now lightning opened and shut -the dark, and a grumble of thunder sounded in the sky. Molly was the -first to break the spell.</p> - -<p>"It's getting late. You had better be making home. The storm will bust -soon by looks of things, and you'll be washed off the road."</p> - -<p>"I don't like leaving you by yourself."</p> - -<p>"You'd better get. Dad and Mum will be back soon."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you are right, Molly." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> - -<p>They rose and walked together to the horse, which he saddled. He did -not unhitch the rein from the branch. Instead, he turned and drew Molly -close against him.</p> - -<p>"I shall never forget you, whatever happens to us. I shall always -remember you as something very lovely and evasive. Whenever I see a -tree in blossom, I shall think of you with a lantern in your hand. -Whenever I see a star fall down the sky, I shall think of the first -kiss I gave you. But, child, it is time we gave by our kissing. Your -kisses are for someone else, and I must ride my own roads. We shall -often see each other again, but this must be our real good-bye."</p> - -<p>"Jim!" was all she said, though she leant closer to him.</p> - -<p>They kissed their last kiss by the shrunken margin of Pelican Pool. The -cloud wrack blotted out the stars; but the trees lifted wide arms above -them. They kissed their last kiss in the heat and passion of the young -night, while the flying foxes glided on quiet wings over the tree tops, -and the insect armies fluttered on their many errands about the dark. -As Power felt her lips laid against his own, he experienced a surge of -regret and thankfulness—regret for what this summer madness had cost -him—thankfulness for the widened vision he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> gained. Presently he -took his lips from her lips, and bending again, laid a chaste kiss upon -her forehead. Then he had drawn himself from her embrace, and had taken -the bridle rein in his hands.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XXI</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Coming of the Rains</span></span></h2> - -<p>The storm burst in the middle of the night. A rush of wind came -with a high call out of the South and tore at the hessian walls of -Surprise with multitudinous fingers. It fell with upraised voice upon -the timbered country of Pelican Pool and swung together the heads of -the trees. It leapt in rage upon the staunch homestead of Kaloona so -that the timbers groaned beneath the buffet. There blazed through the -dark a sheet of light and the ghost of day stood an instant naked and -trembling. There sounded a roar of thunder. And at once the sky was -torn from end to end to let down the rains.</p> - -<p>The waters struck the iron roofs of Surprise and Kaloona with the shock -of a cataract. They flogged the bleached walls of the tents. They -lashed the ground, tearing the small stones from the soil. Ever and -again lightning ripped in shreds the dark and thunder pealed in the -skies. The wind came and went in giant claps.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> The minutes wore out -without any wearying of this rage.</p> - -<p>A sheet of water crept about the face of the country, exploring and -claiming the hollows of the land. Tiny torrents tumbled wherever the -ground was broken. Dry creeks woke to life and swept upon the journey -to the river. The grasses were beaten to the ground. The saplings -cowered and wrung their limbs. And ever new lightnings tore the dark in -pieces, and thunders cracked in the skies; even the voices of drumming -waters called in the dark in answer to the shouting of the wind.</p> - -<p>The storm thrust a way into the tenderer places of Surprise. It pushed -through the patches in the canvas roofs, and crept through the crevices -of the walls, streaming across the floors while Mrs. Boulder, Mrs. -Niven and Mrs. Bloxham, wakened from sleep, peered upon it from their -beds.</p> - -<p>Said Mrs. Boulder, putting forth a heavy hand for the matches and -nudging Boulder awake. "Stow that, man, and get to it. There's -something doing, I reckon."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Niven, striking a match upon like scene, lifted up dolorous voice. -"Are you never goin' to raise a finger to help me, but'll stay snorin' -there till the place falls in atop of us? There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> won't be a dry inch in -another half hour, an' not two sticks of wood chopped, I've no doubt."</p> - -<p>Over all the camp dismal lights flicker up behind the walls where -Bullock, Bloxham and Johnson pass barefooted upon their errands.</p> - -<p>At Kaloona the storm lasted through the hours of dark. The rain roared -up and down the iron roofs. The lightning flamed outside the windows. -The thunder bellowed in the sky. Ever and anon a hurricane of wind -clapped hold of the house and shook it, or for an instant the roar of -rain died, as though a sudden giant hand had plucked away the heavens. -As each blaze of lightning wrenched the landscape from the dark, Power -from his standing place by the window, and Mrs. Elliott and Maggie from -the security of bed, looked upon a country over which crept a wide -reach of water.</p> - -<p>Power was considering bed when the storm began and set him thinking -of other things. He lit a pipe and stood before the window spectator -of events. He stood for a long time without turning round, but left -his post presently, picked up the lamp from the table and made the -way down a passage. He stopped before a door and hammered upon it -until it opened. By the light of the lamp Mrs. Elliott was discovered -confronting him, more ample than ever in her wide<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> nightgown. He -shouted at her above the cry of the rain.</p> - -<p>"How are you doing in there? Nothing coming through yet?"</p> - -<p>"O.K. to date, Mr. Power. Don't you worry for us. It looks as though -the whole place'll bust and go up in a cloud of smoke, don't it?" Mrs. -Elliott beamed upon him.</p> - -<p>"I'm just round the corner. Call me if you want me." He nodded -good-night and the door shut. Back in the sitting-room he put the lamp -on the table and took a stand once more by the window.</p> - -<p>He gave up all thoughts of bed. The cries of the storm and the lights -blazing through the window keyed up his nerves. He became full of -fancies of which Molly Gregory was the beginning and the end. He -reproached himself for not remaining until the others came back. In the -face of this tumult it seemed a brutal thing to have left the child -alone. But now the others would be back, and his fancies did no good. -Once more repenting the event!</p> - -<p>Then his thoughts made their way to Surprise. Was his punishment coming -to an end? If he went back and asked forgiveness, would he be forgiven? -Molly had told him yes. He had no right to hope for such a thing, yet -Maud knew now he loved her. And in truth he loved her as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> he had not -known how to love a woman a little while ago—loving her body, because -it was her body; but counting it of small value beside the spirit. Hope -was coming back to him to-night with the reviving influence of a cool -wind searching the forehead of a castaway in a desert place.</p> - -<p>The door by the verandah steps swung wide open. The storm swept inside -the house in a greedy gust. The curtains at the windows were caught up -in the air. The light leapt up the chimney of the lamp and went out. He -was in the dark. He ran across and pushed the door to. It buffeted him -on the shoulder. A glare of lightning lit up the house. He bolted the -door, came back and lit the lamp, and wiped the rain off his face.</p> - -<p>The endurance of this storm was remarkable. Commonly the rain was -spent within an hour and a lull came. If this did not abate the river -would be coming down. They were safe up here on the rise, but it was -another matter with the hut on Pelican Pool. Every few years there -came a flood which covered all that country. Surely Gregory could -look after himself. He was a bushman even if he was a fool. What was -he—Power—worrying about? He was depressed because he was damp and -circulation went down at this time and the jumping light<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> thrown by the -lamp would give any man the blues.</p> - -<p>Finally, while Power stood there at odds with himself, the storm ceased -as suddenly as it had begun.</p> - -<p>The hush following on the heels of the tumult brought him abruptly out -of his thoughts. He left the room, pushed open the wire door, and stood -upon the verandah steps. The sky was covered with clouds over all its -face, causing the night to be pitch dark. The air was very cool. A -light wind felt the way hither and thither among the nodding boughs of -the saplings; and in all places were countless small voices of dripping -waters.</p> - -<p>A frog croaked from the direction of the river. A frog replied to it. -There followed several croaks, then many croaks. Presently in tens, -presently in scores, presently in hundreds were raised the voices of -the frogs. The chorus rose up everywhere. A-rrr! A-rrr! Mo-rrr-e! -Mo-rrr-e! More water! More water! More water! Then the thunder began -again in the South, and the lightning leapt across the dark. The second -storm rolled out of the horizon and broke upon the land.</p> - -<p>Later on Power found the way to bed; but he slept badly and quite soon -it seemed to be morning. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> - -<p>Kaloona household woke up to a cheerless day. In a lull between the -storms light crept into the sky. Power from his window, Mrs. Elliott -and Maggie from the kitchen, stared upon a strange country. Heaven was -choked with frowning clouds looking down upon a broken land. Pools -of water filled the depressions. The higher country was beaten and -furrowed. Many boughs had been torn from the timber by the river. The -saplings bent piteously before the morning wind. Moisture dripped from -the leaves down and down until it reached the ground. In all places -tiny streams trickled about the country. A thousand small voices of -dropping waters murmured in open and hidden places. Louder than the -voices of the waters rose the concert of the frogs.</p> - -<p>"Meg," said Mrs. Elliott, coming into the damp kitchen first thing, -"we'll be drowned yet, mark me, before this is done."</p> - -<p>"It don't look too good," said Maggie.</p> - -<p>"It don't. There's worse to come," went on Mrs. Elliott, taking a look -into the wood box. "What's more, there wouldn't have been a dry stick -in the house if that horrid little man had had his way. I don't know -what the boss keeps him for."</p> - -<p>"The boss himself is got pretty cranky," said Maggie. "It's time he -took a pull on himself." </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It is, Meg."</p> - -<p>The storms pursued each other from dawn to the middle of the day. In -the space of moments the sky would blacken, thunder would peal out -and a flare of lightning split the heavens. The rain would drum again -on the iron roofs. There fell lulls when Power idled on the verandah -looking over the country; but towards noon, when the sky was clear -for a space, he picked the way to the stables. The ground was filled -with pools of water, and the higher land was a morass. There was a -bitterness in the air that persuaded him to keep hands in his pockets. -He felt dispirited and on edge.</p> - -<p>When he pushed open the stable door Scandalous Jack was fussing round -the stalls. The big black horse was in a box, and near it a chestnut -horse of O'Neill's. Scandalous Jack stopped working with great -readiness and shouted salutations of the day.</p> - -<p>"Marnin', gov'nor, and a bad one at that! I reckon we'll be carrying -our swags to Surprise this time to-morrow if things don't take a pull. -Yer see I kept these two inside. They'll do better in than out, and it -will be a fool's game running horses for a bit! The black feller don't -look bad, do he?"</p> - -<p>"He's pretty well," said Power, looking the black horse over. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> - -<p>"He's that!" shouted Scandalous, "and I was the man to do it. The lip -that woman gives at the house would make you think there was nothing to -do but run after her. I'll let her have it one day—her, and the gel -too, hot and strong."</p> - -<p>"Then you are a braver man than I am, Scandalous," Power said, moving -on. "Keep the horses in. They may be wanted."</p> - -<p>O'Neill kicked his heels in the yards at the back of the stables, pipe -in mouth and an expression on his face to match the day. Power nodded.</p> - -<p>"Pretty heavy fall," he said. "The river will be down by evening—and -pretty big too."</p> - -<p>O'Neill shook his head. "Do you reckon they are all right at the Pool? -There's times the water fills that channel behind them, you know."</p> - -<p>"They are right enough if Gregory knows his business. I've a mind to go -across in the afternoon if the weather lifts."</p> - -<p>Power glanced overhead. Another storm was spreading across the sky. He -started to return to the house. The day was quickly darkening and the -prospect looked dismal beyond contemplation. Half-a-dozen unoccupied -people loitered in sight, and the single patch of colour was where the -gins in brilliant rags smoked in the doorway of their hut. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> went -indoors with the hump. Maggie was laying lunch in the dining-room. -"Twelve o'clock?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Maggie went out of the room. He fell into contemplation by the window -until Mrs. Elliott bustled in on a household errand and brought him to -his senses.</p> - -<p>"Don't moon about like that," she cried at sight of him. "Get some work -to do."</p> - -<p>"Find it for me," he said, turning towards her.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Elliott confronted him in battle array. "Mr. Power, it's time -you took a hold on yourself. This running to and fro every night in -the dark isn't no good to you nor to Miss Neville, nor to me for that -matter. You'll make a mess o' things soon and I'm old enough to be your -mother."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps the mess is made."</p> - -<p>"Now, Mr. Power, I'm talking straight. Things won't be too mixed to -put right if you start now. All men are the same and I know a deal -about them. They can get themselves boxed up as easy as sheep in a -yard, but they are not so quick at the untangling." Mrs. Elliott came -closer and grew confidential. She lifted a fat finger. "And I'll tell -you something more, Mr. Power. All gels are much of a kind too. You may -have a split with them, but if you go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> back and drop the soft word into -their ears you can get them kind again."</p> - -<p>Maggie came in with the dishes, and a moment after the storm burst -above the house.</p> - -<p>The women went out of the room and he began a solitary meal. The rain -flogged the iron roof. Presently Maggie appeared to change the dishes -and afterwards he was sitting before the finished meal listening to -the tumult and feeling too out of temper to light a pipe. On one thing -his mind was made up. He would ride to the Pool in the afternoon if he -was washed off the road in the attempt. The river would come down in -the evening. The family must be brought back and the world could wag -its tongue. He was getting the blues for ever debating on the child's -safety.</p> - -<p>Without warning the rain was snatched back into the sky. The sudden -silence confounded him. Then he threw back his head. Far away rose the -voice of tremendous waters. One deep note without rise or fall was -being played. He listened with all his might. He could not be mistaken. -The river had come down.</p> - -<p>He pushed back his chair and got to his feet. The verandah was a few -steps away. The storm was hurrying out of the sky and the day had -brightened once more. All over the country arose again the gentle -melodious cries of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>dripping waters. He leant on the rail by the -verandah steps. Now the thunder of the river was distinct, and among -the trees he saw here and there widening sheets of water. He had not -made a mistake.</p> - -<p>His depression left him in a moment. He began to think very quickly. -The river must have reached the Pool two hours ago. He had never known -such a sudden flood. By this time the water would be all over that low -country. The Gregorys would be without a home. What if the fellow had -proved a fool and taken risks? He must satisfy himself. He must go -without delay.</p> - -<p>He went inside again. He found his spurs and pulled on an oilskin. Mrs. -Elliott came running down the passage.</p> - -<p>"The river is down, Mr. Power. A regular old man flood."</p> - -<p>He answered walking past her. "I heard it. I shall be away in a minute. -I may bring back those people on the river. You had better have -something ready."</p> - -<p>"Don't dare bring 'em inside the place!" cried Mrs. Elliott, but the -door was shut on her words.</p> - -<p>As Power left the house a man on horseback was coming through the gate -of the homestead paddock. The horse had been pushed to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> limit of -its strength. It breathed with sobs and trembled as it walked. The -rider rolled in the saddle. Man and beast were plastered with a coat of -mud. It covered them from the crown of the man's hat to the hoofs of -the horse. Then the rider spat clear his mouth and called out. It was -Gregory.</p> - -<p>"The river has come down! The gel is drowned!"</p> - -<p>Power felt a sudden rage seize him by the throat; but he answered in a -level voice. "What's that you say?"</p> - -<p>"The river's down. The gel's drowned!"</p> - -<p>"What were you doing?"</p> - -<p>"I was at Surprise with the missus. We was on a bit of a spree. We -wasn't back last night. I rode down an hour since. The river was down -then and the hut going to bits. The water had come round the back of -the place. There wasn't a sign of the gel. She'd have tried to cross -and got washed away. Aw, Gawd, what's to be done?"</p> - -<p>"Get out of the way!" Power said. He moved towards the stables at a -walk that was becoming a run. Scandalous Jack bobbed about the doorway. -"Saddle my horse!" he called out.</p> - -<p>Scandalous threw up his head in surprise. "You're not mad enough -to——?" </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Saddle that horse!" he shouted. Scandalous bobbed inside.</p> - -<p>Power began to call out for O'Neill. The man came out of the doorway -of his hut. With common consent they ran towards each other. "Gregory -is here. The child is drowned!" The two men began to run faster and -towards the stable. "We might be in time. I am going now."</p> - -<p>Scandalous was coming out of the stable door with the black horse. It -threw its head this way and that, snorting loudly. Scandalous, very -full of respect, nursed his corns. Power took the reins. O'Neill was -running for a saddle.</p> - -<p>"Scandalous, listen to me. The river has come down at Pelican Pool. -There's been an accident. Gregory's girl may be drowned. I'm going -there now. Send Jackie after the buggy horses. You must bring the buggy -as fast as you can. Bring anything useful. Bring some rope. Bring -blankets. Bring whisky. Find Jackie now. Jackie!"</p> - -<p>He gathered the reins in one hand and put the other on the saddle. The -wind arrived and blew his oilskin into the air. The black horse sent a -blast from its nostrils and reared high; but as it came to ground he -was gaining the saddle. He picked up the stirrups and drew the reins -together. The wind was in his face. Far away,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> but loud, sounded the -roar of the river. The beast beneath him reefed at the reins. The small -paddock was covered in a score of bounds. He found he must use both -hands to check the animal. Pools of water splashed under them and the -mud sucked at its hoofs. Clods of earth leapt upon his back. The gate -demanded a halt. He pushed open the gate with his foot.</p> - -<p>The Pool was distant only a few miles; but travelling was so bad he -dared not force the pace. He left the gate wide open, and turned -towards the river. He took the reins in both hands. He bent his head a -little. A stream of lightning flooded the sky. A rush of wind hit him a -buffet in the face. The day began to darken. He felt the animal's mouth -with firm hands. It answered the signal.</p> - -<p>It plunged away, leaning hard on his hands. It was the most powerful -beast he rode, yet he hesitated to give it head. He knew the spur must -be used before the end of the journey. The country was a bog. Sheets of -shallow water covered the plain. It was a struggle to win a foot of the -rough ground. They rode for a spill. Every yard of travelling splashed -him to the top of his head. On the higher ground, uncovered by the -water, clouts of mud struck him behind. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span></p> - -<p>The day had turned black. Lightning poured out of the clouds. Thunder -stamped upon the sky until it trembled. Here and here a starved sapling -stood up in the water. There and there a broken tuft of spinifex lifted -up its sodden spikes. He looked once over his shoulder to see O'Neill -labouring half-a-mile behind. A second rush of wind, fiercer than the -first, beat him in the face. The new storm was about to break.</p> - -<p>He wondered what he was thinking of, and he found he was not thinking. -Instead, he was filled with a grievous sense of tragedy. He was late. -Once more he was late. He had left her alone to die.</p> - -<p>In the teeth of better judgment he tightened the reins and signalled -greater speed. A blaze of lightning tore the sky in half; the thunder -shattered overhead and the rains rushed out of the sky. He thought the -shock had thrown the beast off its feet. It propped on the instant and -swung around. Good luck and skill held him in the saddle. He strove to -turn it around, but it would not answer him. His nerves were worn raw -and his temper got the better of wisdom. He fell upon it with whip and -spur.</p> - -<p>It came round at last and began to thrust sideways through the -downpour. The rains scourged them. The water leapt from his shoulders -back into his face. The landscape was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> blotted out. In an instant the -lower half of him was wet through. He could not see. He could hear -nothing but the rain. He felt the suck and draw of the animal's hoofs -as it rolled along. Again and again the lightning thrust its arms about -the sky. He rode through the rain-burst for a very long time. Without -warning he passed out on the other side. The rain stopped, the storm -rolled behind him, the day grew bright again.</p> - -<p>He had covered most of the journey. The river was a mile away, but his -horse was done. He himself felt dazed and his clothes held him with -clammy fingers. The passing of the storm had left the world very still. -He rubbed the water from his eyes. Someone was ahead of him. A buggy -advanced to the edge of the timbered country. It contained only the -driver, who was crouched over the reins. He thought he recognised King.</p> - -<p>Something farther away than King arrested his vision. Half of the -journey had been made across a sheet of shallow water; but over there, -where the higher trees began, the water eddied and tossed, betraying -the edge of the river. He looked on the highest flood in his memory. -The timber concealed the great body of water; but far away on the other -side of the trees climbed the flood. A deep note came across to him; -the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> voice of the river hurrying to its marriage with the sea.</p> - -<p>He did not remember finishing the journey. He bullied a spent horse the -rest of the way. After a long time they reached the edge of the timber -where a minute or two before the buggy had come to a halt.</p> - -<p>He pulled up the horse beside the buggy. Mr. King had got down and was -standing in the water. They did not trouble to greet each other, and -he thought King looked out of his mind. They stood on the edge of the -flood waters. Half-a-mile away the body of the river roared on its -journey. In the intervening space the trees stood out of the sluggish -water shaking their damaged boughs in the wind. The shaded ways, the -quiet places had gone; there was no sign of Pelican Pool.</p> - -<p>His breath came back, and with his breath returned his presence of -mind. He forgot the man beside him and stared over the ears of the -horse. One by one old landmarks were picked up, and at last his eye -found the wreckage of the hut. It was a third of the way across the -river. The main body of water swept beyond it, but an arm of the river -had come in this way. Horror laid a hand upon his heart.</p> - -<p>A terrible cry rang out beside him. "My Princess! My Princess!" Mr. -King was <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span>looking at the hut. Of a sudden he began running towards it. -He ran stumbling a long way and stopped only when the water reached his -knees. He threw his arms before him and cried again in the terrible -voice: "My Princess! My Princess!" The roar of the river came back in -answer.</p> - -<p>Power touched the horse with his heel and it began to walk forward -through the water. As the depth increased, the beast snorted and threw -about its head. They had advanced a little way, when O'Neill overtook -them, and the two men moved side by side towards the broken water.</p> - -<p>Power believed now Molly Gregory was dead. The child had sat all night -in the hut after he had left her listening to the storms breaking -outside. No doubt she had been filled with fancies which had mocked -at sleep. To-day she had watched the water climbing towards her door -with greedy lips. She had fled at last in panic to the land, and the -blundering river had seized her in its arms.</p> - -<p>He believed she was dead, and here he sat on horseback guiding the -beast forward, holding it tight when it stumbled, avoiding the -driftwood, and bending his head beneath limbs of trees. She was dead -and he moved forward towards the body of the river, while the gentle -waves of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> this back channel crept up the legs of his horse so that now -they licked its belly. He did this calmly and with a cool brain. Was he -over quick at forgetting, or had too much sorrow defeated itself, as -one pain is cured by another?</p> - -<p>She was dead, but the three men that had loved her were still condemned -to use the eyes that had looked upon her, to employ the arms that had -supported her, to move the lips that had been pressed by her kisses.</p> - -<p>There came an end to the advance. A stone's throw beyond the halting -place began the current. The river swept on its journey with a high -tremendous cry. Far among the timber on the other bank brown currents -surged and boiled. Trunks of trees whirled down from distant forests; -rubbish from a hundred places hurried out of sight. The lesser trees -danced their leaves upon the waves. Like a barbarous giant the river -thundered to the sea.</p> - -<p>Somewhere in that yeast of waters the child's fair body hurried away. -From the tumult of the river it was passing to the amorous embraces of -a coral sea. The scarlet lips where so many men had left their kisses -would be caressed anew by the gentle lips of an ocean. By day and by -night that slender form would float on its final journey, peering into -the mouths of solemn caverns, stroked by the tresses of love-sick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> -weeds, secure from the greedy suns staring hungrily through the blue -roof, and followed by the curious moon as she looked to see what -radiant thing took its walk by dark along the ocean bed.</p> - -<p>The brilliant fishes would arrive to peer at this rare thing, the -loathsome octopus beneath his ledge of rock would hide his shame behind -a sepia curtain, and presently the brown pearl-fisher, descending from -his bobbing barque, would halt in wonder at a pearl larger and more -lustrous than all his toils had brought him.</p> - -<p>Where had fled the little soul? Perhaps as a tiny jewelled bird already -it fluttered through celestial fields, quick and charming and bright, -but a thing of small account. In that new country where sight was -keener, it would not again be priced above its worth.</p> - -<p>The flow and hurry of the river was drugging Power's mind. He broke the -spell by a jerk of the head, and looking behind him saw King not very -far away deep in the water. King was suddenly an old man. Power turned -to the horseman beside him. O'Neill stared at the broken hut. His head -was thrust forward, and he sat huddled in the saddle. The water had -climbed to the saddle-flap, and the ends of his oilskin played with the -waves. He began to speak at that moment. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I reckon I'd have a chance of getting across. I could go higher up and -beat the pull of the current."</p> - -<p>"You wouldn't," Power said. "And no use if you could. She isn't there. -We shan't see her again."</p> - -<p>"Gawd! I must go across! I can't stay here!"</p> - -<p>"It will do no good, Mick. She has escaped us."</p> - -<p>Power drew his horse beside the other man, for the clamour of the river -made speech difficult. He began to speak more intimately than ever he -remembered doing.</p> - -<p>"Once I loved her in a way it will be hard to love anyone else. Then -passion seemed to go away—somewhere, I don't know where; but she -taught me so much I shall never be out of her debt. She has made me -look on life with new eyes.</p> - -<p>"I have something to tell you. I was down here last night before the -rain began. She had been alone all day, and she was quite strange—so -serious. We talked about a lot of things, and I asked her which of us -three she loved. She said it was you. The three of us fought over her, -and in the middle she slipped away and it seems we have lost her; but -because she loved you, she left you her best behind. </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> - -<p>"We must go back and get dry. There is nothing else to do. To-morrow, -if the storms keep away, we can look for her lower down; but we won't -find her. Just now the world seems to have come to an end. Things will -be straighter in a bit, and we'll find there is something to be got out -of this. To reach for a thing and to get it may be good enough, but a -man grows quicker by stretching for the thing beyond his hand. We shall -always remember her as a fairy thing out of reach, and looking for her -to come again will help a fellow to growl less in the summer, give him -more patience to teach his dog manners, hurry him through the day's -work. Come, we must get back."</p> - -<p>Power brought his horse about. He heard O'Neill splash behind him. He -went across to King, and King turned up a haggard face.</p> - -<p>"We must get back. There is nothing to do."</p> - -<p>The three men began to splash towards the land. Two more buggies had -arrived on the bank. Scandalous Jack was getting down from one, and the -other was drawn by the white buggy horses of Surprise. The old man sat -in the driver's seat and beside him was Maud Neville. Power met her -glance across the distance. The three men reached the bank.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span>CHAPTER XXII</span> <span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">The Meeting by the River</span></span></h2> - -<p>Power dismounted. He was full of tiny pains and the cold was beginning -to eat into his bones. Neville had pulled up the buggy near at hand. -The old man was plastered with mud to his shaggy eyebrows.</p> - -<p>"Hey, Power!" he shouted out. "What's become of the gel?"</p> - -<p>"We were too late."</p> - -<p>"Goodness, that's a nuisance! Get out, Maud, gel. I want to get down." -The two people got down from the buggy. "Now that's annoyin'," went -on the old man, feeling under the seat for his stick. "Nearly killed -ourselves getting here, too. I may be wrong, but I reckon the horses -won't be much good for a day or two, huh, huh! Here's what I was after. -It's looking a bit more settled over there now. The rain may be gone -for a while."</p> - -<p>Scandalous arrived across the mud.</p> - -<p>"Hold this horse," Power said. He delivered it and walked forward to -meet Neville. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> had not met for many days and saluted each other -abruptly.</p> - -<p>"The gel's drowned after all, then, Power?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"You would have thought a gel like her would find sense to look after -herself. No sign of her anywhere about?" The old man cast glances up -and down the bank.</p> - -<p>"We'll search lower down to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I reckon that's all there is to do. It's not much use hanging -round here gettin' cold. The river came down pretty quick and pretty -big. Gracious! What's up with King! Goodness, he's badly hit!"</p> - -<p>The old man trotted away after King.</p> - -<p>Maud stood beside the buggy. She was looking at the river. Power found -himself watching her. She was wet through and blown about by the wind; -but her gaze was steady as it followed the rush of the current. Of -those who had hurried here in panic, she only was serene; yet the -schoolmaster had set her the severest tasks. It must be she was the -aptest pupil. Power tried to follow her thoughts. She was finding a -symbol in the river. It had rushed down with a great cry upon this -quiet place, snatching away the old landmarks. Its fury would wear out -presently, and over the wrecked country a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> kindly growth of green would -make its way. That was what she saw.</p> - -<p>Power fell into reflection. Two months ago he had found Gregory -sleeping a drunken sleep on the road, had taken pity on him and had -led him home. In the doorway of a shabby tent beside the river he had -seen Molly for the first time. Two months had gone by since then, and -for sixty days he had lived life more acutely than he had believed -possible. He would not wish to live life so keenly again. He seemed -to have travelled in every country. He seemed to have lived in every -climate. He seemed to have climbed every height and to have gone down -into every dark way. All books had been opened that he might look -inside. All strings of experience had been plucked that he might listen -to new notes.</p> - -<p>These two months were at an end, and there seemed no more countries -to visit, no more climates to test, no more heights to climb, no -more depths to descend. The books were being shut. The strings of -experience were growing mute. Instead of turning his ears to siren -voices, he listened again to the speech of everyday. In place of fields -of asphodel, he trod again the highway. It was time to see where he -stood—to add up gains and subtract losses.</p> - -<p>Strange that the metal must pass through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> fire before the artificer -will receive it. Strange that a man must experience sorrow before -wisdom will shape him to its ends. Yet such burnings need not be -considered punishment, such sorrow need not be counted degradation.</p> - -<p>He had served his apprenticeship to love and now might call himself -craftsman. He knew where to chisel with his tools—not in the poor -material of the human body, but in the enduring fabric of the spirit. -He had learned this craft, and the fee of apprenticeship had been that -he had put aside unrecognised the finest material that would come under -his hand.</p> - -<p>He came out of his reverie and found Maud watching him. He went towards -her through the pools of water.</p> - -<p class="center">. . . . . .</p> - -<p>My tale is told. While nine months have been wearing out, I have come -back, night by night, to this tent, a scribe who would beguile the -hour with the telling of a story. The tale is told to the last word. -Put down the pen; run in the horses and saddle up. It is time to seek -new places. The railway line creeps across the plain to Surprise; and -growth and change will fall upon the camp to devour it. Take down the -tent, fill up the tucker-bags and load the pack-horse. It is time to be gone.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center">W. C. Penfold & Co. Ltd., Printers, 183 Pitt Street, Sydney.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/ad1.jpg" alt="Book list 1" /></div> - -<hr /> - - -<div class="center"><img src="images/ad2.jpg" alt="Book list 2" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PELICAN POOL ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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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/license - - -Title: Pelican Pool - A Novel - -Author: Sydney De Loghe - -Release Date: September 19, 2020 [EBook #63238] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PELICAN POOL *** - - - - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -+-------------------------------------------------+ -|Transcriber's note: | -| | -|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. | -| | -+-------------------------------------------------+ - - -PELICAN POOL - -A NOVEL -BY -SYDNEY DE LOGHE - -Author of -"The Straits Impregnable" - -[Illustration: Decoration] - -SYDNEY -ANGUS & ROBERTSON LTD. -1917 - - -Printed by -W. C. Penfold & Co. Ltd., 183 Pitt Street, Sydney -for -Angus & Robertson Ltd. - - -TO - -M. L. - -WHO, AT SUCH A PLACE AS SURPRISE, HAS -BORNE THE HEAT AND BURDEN OF THE DAY - - - - -CONTENTS - -Chapter Page - I. WHERE TO FIND SURPRISE VALLEY CAMP 1 - - II. HOW THEY PASS THE EVENING AT SURPRISE 10 - - III. PELICAN POOL 37 - - IV. KALOONA RUN 54 - - V. THE HUT BY PELICAN POOL 77 - - VI. THE COACH COMES TO SURPRISE 92 - - VII. THE RETURN TO SURPRISE 118 - - VIII. THE BANKS OF THE POOL 145 - - IX. HOW THE DAYS PASS BY AT SURPRISE 159 - - X. HOW THE DAYS PASS BY AT KALOONA 176 - - XI. THE PARTING BY THE POOL 190 - - XII. SELWYN HEARS SOME NEWS 205 - - XIII. THE JOURNEY TO THE POOL 221 - - XIV. THE HALT BY THE ROAD 233 - - XV. THE PARTING OF THE WAY 237 - - XVI. SUMMER DAYS 241 - - XVII. THE ERRAND TO THE POOL 250 - -XVIII. THE BOTTOM OF THE VALLEY 264 - - XIX. THE SELWYNS RETURN SOUTH 272 - - XX. THE FAREWELL BY THE HUT 282 - - XXI. THE COMING OF THE RAINS 296 - - XXII. THE MEETING BY THE RIVER 319 - - - - -CHAPTER I - -WHERE TO FIND SURPRISE VALLEY CAMP - - -Where the equator girdles the earth, the Indian Ocean and the amorous -waters of the Pacific have their marriage bed. Afire with the passions -of the tropics, excited by breezes from a thousand islands of palm, of -spice, of coral, of pearl, jewelled for the ceremony with quick-lived -phosphorous lights, the oceans move to each other, and mingle hot -kisses under high red suns and fierce white moons. They have begotten -many children; and one of these--the Sea of Carpentaria--leans deep -into the northern coast of Australia, and wears itself against a -thousand miles of barren shore. - -As a young girl, dreaming her dreams, spends affection careless of the -cost, so these romantic waters woo the stern northern land with warm -and tireless embrace. And, as a man, busy on his own affairs, cares -nothing for such soft entreaty, so the north land gives no sign; but -remarks in silence the passage of the years. - -Yet who shall say that passion has no place there--because a giant -broods, dreaming a giant's dreams? Who shall say--because long waiting -may have brought crabbed age--that the north land has not its sorrows? -Morose countenance it keeps, yet freely can it spend. Its pulse beats -no feeble strokes. Fierce suns travel across it, the heavens are torn -for its rains, its floods laugh at restraint, the drought is slave of -its ill-humours. - -Its face is rough with frequent ranges where scanty vegetation climbs, -where barren rock-faces catch the sunlight, and clefts run in, and -shadowy cave-mouths open out. Here the wallaby finds harbourage, the -bat hangs himself in the shadows, the python unrolls his coils, and the -savage stays a space for shelter. - -Its face is smooth with dreary plain. Stunted trees find living there, -and hold out narrow leaves to cheat the suns. The spinifex battles with -the thrifty soil, and porcupine grass weaves its spikes for the unwary. -Score of miles by score of miles the country rolls away, brown or red -where shows the bare earth, grey or yellow or smoky blue where the sun -weds the dried grassland, shining white where the quartz pushes out of -the ground. Through half the hours the sun stares from the centre of -the sky, the leaves hang unmoved, the grasses are unstirred: silence -only lives. The savage is dreaming of the feast to come, the kangaroo -has taken himself to the roots of a tree in the dried water-course. The -sun passes to the journey's end: life again draws breath. The kangaroo -seeks the tenderer grasses; the dingo rises in his lair to stretch, and -loll his tongue; the parrot screams from the tree-top; tiny finches, in -splendid coats, swing among the bushes; a brown kite takes high station -in the sky. Yet the waste seems empty, and the white ants only may -boast of conquest where their red cones rise everywhere about the plain. - -A belt of greener timber stands out bravely from the faded vegetation -to mark the river on its passage to the sea. To the parching waterholes -the pelican comes at dawn to fish and to pout his breast: snowy -spoonbills and divers splash in the lonely shallows. The alligator -comes up to sun himself; the turtle bubbles from the hot mud; and the -quick striped fishes play at hide and seek among the languid weeds. The -kingfisher busies himself along the bank, and with evening the ducks -push their triangles about the sky. - -The conquest of this northern land will bring the fall of one of -savagery's last fortresses. Already the outposts of South and East -press in. The ramparts are crumbling, and soon the gates must tumble -to a victor who never yet has been denied. The white man has turned -here his covetous gaze. Vainly the burning winds and angry rains shall -beat at the ashes of his first fires and shall scatter his first -solitary bones. The silences shall not fright him, nor the lean places -turn his purpose. Though he fall, yet will he come on again, for this -foe is fashioned of stern stuff. In ones, in twos, already he toils -over the face of the wilderness, seeking the kindlier ways for his -herds: in ones, in twos, he passes about the hills and watercourses, -wresting from their bosoms the objects of his avarice. Alike he invades -the sternest and gentlest retreats, raising his shelters to mock at sun -and storm. His long fences are breaking the distances, his beasts of -burden trample the virgin waterholes, his iron houses defile the hermit -vales. Not easily does he work his will. Lean and brown he becomes, and -his women grow haggard before their time. But children patter upon the -bitter places, and them the wilderness has less power to hurt. - -The Sea of Carpentaria woos the north land. The north land gives no -sign. - - . . . . . . . - -The mining camp of Surprise Valley lies in the folds of those ranges -which break the long plains of the Gulf country. Ten years ago it grew -along the bottom of a cup of the hills, and since that season neither -has waxed nor waned, being nothing troubled by the wilderness which -marches to the door-ways of its tents and humble iron houses. - -The traveller, by circumstance brought thither from the East, with ill -grace leaves his steamer at the coast, boards the casual train, and -presently finds himself jerking forward on the second stage of the -journey. He bumps westward for five hundred miles. He moves through -plains which--right and left--push into the horizon. The ocean has not -seemed to him more immense. A curtain of heat is about their edges, a -haze dwells about them. The clamour of his coming scatters sheep at -their grazing, alarms the kangaroo at matins, sends the wild turkey -into the taller grasses. For a night, for a day, for half another -night, he is held in thrall. He alone appears eager for the journey -end. He smokes, he reads, he eats: a dozen ways he sets himself to -hurry time. The cool of the evening takes him to the outside platform -of the car to reflect and watch the darkening of the skies--to remark -the first white stars. At such hour maybe he takes his lot in better -part. - -Sunrise renews the stale prospect, and the heated air of noon finds him -with sticky collar and drowsy brain. He dozes, wakes, dozes again. -Ever and anon the brakes grind, and the train jerks to a standstill. -From the window he looks upon a siding, where a platform of blistered -planks and an iron shed are emblems of railway authority. A dozen -stockmen and loafers of the township crowd the patch of shade, to -smoke and spit and await the train's advance. First to the eye comes -the hotel, beside it lies the store; and haphazard stand the wooden -houses, with iron roofs glaring back into the sun's fierce face. Never -a church lifts up its cross as of old the tabernacle made signal in the -wilderness. A dusty way leads into the plain, and along this presently -the stockmen will turn their horses. - -The second evening brings the journey-end. From his platform the -traveller sees a township's lights grow upon the plain--lights closer -and redder than the stars that meet them. The iron rails have ended. -Thankfully he gets down to stretch his limbs in the cool, wide night. - -But a hundred miles still frown him from the goal. With morning he -clambers into a seat of the mail coach--a battered carriage. His -luggage has been strapped behind. He sits solitary beside the driver, -who accepts him with easy familiarity. The reins run slack to the -horses' heads, and the five lean beasts draw him forward at even pace. -The dust climbs up and hangs upon the air. All day he rolls over empty -plain. - -The second afternoon brings the ranges marching from the horizon, and -by evening the coach rises and dips upon a see-saw roadway. As the -sun leans down to the horizon, the driver draws taut his reins before -Surprise Valley Hotel. Surprise Valley ends the coach journey--ends -the direct mail service--ends the bush parson's endeavors--ends the -travelling school-master's rounds--ends civilization--ends everything. -When humour so inclines them--which is seldom--the people of Surprise -Valley may walk from their doorways into the great unknown of the West. - -Fortune has given to Surprise the greenest fold of the western ranges. -Easy hills stand up about the camp, tracing a zig-zag rim against -the sky. The camp lies in the hollow, as in the bottom of a cup. It -clambers about the lower slopes, following the whim of the latest -comer. The hotel boasts a roof and walls of iron, that much boasts the -store, that much the manager's house. The staff barracks and the mine -offices equally are favoured. Wooden piles lift the buildings high from -the ground. Elsewhere stand weather-worn tents; and sometimes a bough -shed, thatched with gum-leaves, serves its architect as parlour. - -Towering over all rise the poppet-heads and bins of the mine. Goats -take a siesta beneath the scrubby trees, explore the rubbish heaps, -and clamber about the dump; fowls of more breeds than Joseph's coat -knew colours, employ themselves in the dusty places, or keep the shade -of the broken rocks. Here and there an optimist nurses a garden, and -finds reward in a few drooping vegetables. Goats and fowls peer through -the netting with evil in their hearts. This is Surprise Valley to the -stranger eye. - -Three score burnt men and a handful of shabby women here find living. -They dig for the green copper hidden jealously in the bosom of the -hills. From distant parts they have drifted, they stay awhile; again -they drift; but the camp endures, and the wilderness is powerless -to harm it. Forward and backward from the railroad, a hundred miles -away, the weekly coach crawls on its journey, keeping open the track -to civilization, and bringing such news and comforts as that world -has leisure to send. The mail bags disgorge stale papers; the driver -delivers stale news. Round and round turns the wheel of affairs. A -whistle begins the day for this community: a whistle ends it. Deep in -the earth the men labor with hammer and drill. Overhead the women bend -at their pots and pans, and peg the weekly washings under cloudless -skies. The children, untaught, unchecked, patter among the stones and -tussocks, and send abroad their cries. Summer follows winter. The suns -climb up; in season the rains roar down; the frost comes in its turn. -But the men of Surprise Valley dig always in the bowels of the hills, -and the women busy themselves about their doors. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -HOW THEY PASS THE EVENING AT SURPRISE. - - -The last week of October was ending. At Surprise seven red-hot days -had crowded after one another; six breathless nights had brought -men and women gasping to their doors. The seventh evening had seen, -an hour since, the moon come up, white, round and full, behind the -Conical Hill; and with the moon arrived a flagging breeze--not cold, -not even cool, but with life left to turn the narrow gum-leaves, to -move the tent walls and the hessian blinds on the verandahs of the -iron houses. The moon had climbed the hilltop an hour since, and now -was some distance in the sky. Falling with a broad white light over -the ranges, and no doubt upon the plain beyond, it found a way to -the valley holding the stifled camp. It picked out the iron roofs, -and discovered the trees, to make of their leaves bunches of silver -fingers: it counted the tents straggling down the distance, and on the -journey wove many patterns of light and shade. The stones in the bed -of the dry creek shone with polished faces. The white ball in the sky -numbered the panels of the yard, where the buggy horses--two greys, two -bays--stood reflecting on their fate; and it numbered the crinkles in -the stable roof. - -The breeze had moved several times down the valley, and as often as it -passed the people of Surprise turned gratefully in their seats. Mr. -Robson, shift-boss, found heart to swear appreciation and light a pipe; -Mrs. Boulder, brisk and brawny, reached from her chair to slap the -youngest child; and Mr. Horrington, general agent--unappreciated cousin -of Sir James Horrington, Bart., of Such-and-such Hall, England--pledged -again his lost relatives in whisky and a dash of water. The members of -the staff, telling smoking-room stories from their long chairs outside -the mess-room, re-settled for something newer and choicer. - -Two sounds were repeated, and helped to make the stillness live. They -were the stamp of horses near the creek, and the cornet of Mr. Wells, -storeman. The cornet player was feeling the way, with poor luck but an -honest persistence, through the pitfalls and crooked ways of "The Death -of Nelson." He had reached the thirteenth verse. The thirteenth verse -was the unlucky verse: unlucky for him, because he broke down, unlucky -for his listeners, because he repeated it. The notes fell slowly, -uncertainly, mournfully upon the night. As the fourteenth verse began, -Mr. Neville, manager of Surprise, swore with feeling. - -The old man of Surprise sat in the recess of his verandah, on a -full-length wicker chair, both legs at easiest angle, heavy walking -stick at hand, a glass at his elbow, a pipe in his clutch. The hessian -blinds, nailed to the woodwork, threw the place into gloom, unless -crevices let in a beam of the moon. Old Neville sat back in the -half-dark, a man of small and tough make, covered from collar to ankles -in white duck, with brown, wrinkled face, bristling grey moustache, -shaggy white eyebrows, and an aggressive manner. He was seventy; but -he was to be reckoned with still. Behind him, two canvas waterbags -hung midway from the roof, and the single small table, with the whisky -bottle and the box of matches on it, he had taken for himself. He put -out bony fingers for the matches. - -"Damn that wretched fellow! I'll hunt him off the place to-morrow." - -A girl and two men were his company. The girl sat between the men, and -the three people leaned back in canvas chairs. The nearest man, who was -dressed in riding clothes, was young--no more than thirty-five. He was -tall, and of a wiry make, and his skin was tanned. His face was clean -shaven, with a trace of temper in it, while he had the manner of one -well able to take care of himself. He gave his attention to a pipe. He -was known through all that country as James Power of Kaloona Station. - -The girl was dressed in white. She was not thirty years old, but the -climate had not spared her. She was not tall, she was rather slight, -and her face challenged no second glance; but he who looked closely -might find thought behind her eyes, and humour in her mouth. The -carriage of her head showed courage. Here was a girl with thoughts to -think and with dreams to dream. A girl with a stout heart, who would -be ready to drink deeply from the cups of joy and sorrow: a mate worth -winning. Maud Neville was her name, and Neville of Surprise was her -father. Just now, with both hands, she marked the fall of the cornet -notes which continued their troubled passage. - -The other man smoked a cigar in heavy content. He was growing -middle-aged and stout. He breathed with deep breaths, but the sultry -night excused him. A dark moustache covered his mouth. His face was -filling with flesh; and his eyes were cold though rather wise. Just now -he was well pleased with the world. He was John King, accountant of -Surprise. - -The girl spoke. Her voice was full of lights and shades. - -"Don't always be growling at Wells, father. He maddened me once; but -I have accepted him long ago. He will learn something else soon. The -cornet is new. He got it two or three coaches ago. Mr. King, do you -remember the concertina last summer? The heat unstuck it or something. -That's why he sent for the cornet. One day I asked him why he was so -persistent, and he put his hands on his chest very grandly like this -and said--'Miss Neville, it is in here. It must come out.'" - -The old man screwed up his face. "He can tell the flies that to-morrow -when he takes the track." - -King took the cigar from his mouth very deliberately. - -"Maybe we listen to more than a poor storeman--a lover, a poet rather. -Who can say? A lover whose beloved has wandered afar: a poet born -tongueless, whose breast must break with fullness. Then what do our -ears matter, while he finds relief?" - -Power laughed. "You're an amusing idiot, King." But the old man snorted. - -"I've something else to even up with besides that trumpet. Every man -jack on the place is doing what he likes with the water tanks these -last two months. They're three part done. There'll be a drought here -'fore the rains come, sure as I sit here, there will. I believe half -the women wash their brats in it. They've got the devil's impidence. I -watched Wells to-day carry half-a-dozen kerosene tins for Mrs. Simpson -and Mrs. Boulder. I'd have seen he knew about it, if I'd been nearer. -I'll fix the lot of 'em up yet. I'll settle them quick." - -"You'll have to ration them," Power said. - -"Ration them! I'll ration them till their tongues hang out. They can go -to the pub for a drink." - -A chair creaked in the dark, grunts followed the creak, and Neville got -to his feet. He steadied himself with his stick, and started towards -the door into the house. On the threshold he paused and looked round. - -"Ye know Gregory, the gouger from Mount Milton way? He was in at the -store this afternoon. Says he's struck a first class copper show on the -river. He was blowing hard about it there, and had specimens with him. -He was after gettin' a lot of tucker on account; but I settled that. I -may be wrong, huh, huh! but I reckon he wasn't long from the pub." - -"Where's his show?" King asked. - -"On Pelican Pool. He'll get drowned when the rains come." - -"He can have only just struck it. Nobody was on the hole a fortnight -back," Power answered. - -"Is the show any good?" asked King. - -"Bah! Of course not." - -"How do you know?" Maud cried. - -"Of course it'll be no good." - -"You don't know anything about it." - -King put his cigar in his mouth, and it grew red in the dark. He took -it away again. "Isn't Gregory the fellow with the pretty daughter?" - -The old man began to chuckle. "Huh, huh! I've heard more talk of -Gregory's daughter these last two weeks than of his copper show. If -the show is as good as the gal, his fortune is made. She's a fetching -little hussy." He wagged his head. - -"You've seen her?" questioned Power. - -"Three days back. I was down in the buggy looking at the pipe line. I -told Maud about her. She's something in King's way. I hear he never -misses anything." - -King shrugged his shoulders. "My name gone, you may send me along the -pipe line as soon as you like." - -"Ye'll have to look sharp. Half the fellers on the lease know about -her." The old man chuckled himself into the house. - -"I want to see her," Maud cried. "Her fame has gone all over these -parts. They say she turned everyone's head Mount Milton way. Why are -you so behindhand, Mr. King?" - -"She has only been once to the store, and ill-luck kept me wrestling -with accounts. Afterwards I heard she had passed through like some -Royal Presence, moving so greatly every man under fifty that he gave up -work for the afternoon." - -"And," said Power, "my Mrs. Elliott's story is that Mick O'Neill, our -head man, has lost his head over her." - -King bowed reverently in the dark. "She must be wonderful--a poem of -golden words, a melody of diamond notes. She must be fit to rank with -those dead women generations of men have sung about. The Helen of -Homer: Deirdre, princess of Ulster, whom four kings fought over, and -for love of whom three brothers slew themselves: Poppęa, mistress of -Nero, for whose bath five hundred asses let down their milk: a Ninon -de l'Enclos, who rode abroad on early autumn mornings, while the poor -brutal peasants covered themselves, believing an angel passed by. When -I go down the pipe line, I shall take my fly-veil with me that my sight -may not be destroyed." - -"You may meet me there, with or without a veil," said Power. - -"Don't count yet on going, Mr.-my-friend-Power," Maud Neville said. "I -must look myself first." - -"And now," said King, leaning heavily forward in his chair which -creaked out loud, "I think it becomes me to salute such loveliness." He -stretched a hand for the whisky and poured out a noble peg. - -A bellow came from inside. "Power!" - -"Hullo!" - -"I want ye!" - -Power got up. "I'll see what is wanted. But first our pledge." - -The steps of Power died away, and King and Maud Neville were left -alone. Nelson had died at last, and now the cornet asked, "Alice, -where art thou?" One or two crickets beneath the house accompanied it. -Presently King must have moved his chair, because there was a sudden -creak. - -"I am going to write a treatise on love to aid the beginner." - -"How many volumes?" - -King shook his head. "You mock me. You think because my heart is widely -proportioned, and because there are several little dead affairs stacked -neatly on upper shelves, that each of those visitors cost nothing to -admit, and that now one cannot be told from another. You are mistaken." -Again he shook his head. "Each of those visitors left its footprints -on the threshold, and memory can still find them in the dustiest, most -forgotten corners. No, hide your smiles." - -"Go on, you stupid, I love listening to you." - -"Love comes always in the same way, whether it be the great affair -that tramples ruthless and leaves us crushed on the road, or whether -it arrives with hammer and chisel, playfully to knock off a corner of -the heart. For love flows forward in a ripple of waters over which pass -sweetest breezes. So slowly it moves, so gently it rises, that one is -lost ere the danger be discovered. In the first sprays that dash the -drowner's mouth lie its best, its purest." - -"And after?" - -"Alas! the tide brings refreshment with it, and lovers wake hungry, and -what had seemed two shafts from heaven become a woman's eyes. And so -the descent to earth is trod again in steps of kisses." He held out his -arm. "Look at the moon slung there, a great silver platter! How many -thousands of us have cried out for it? Yet it is only a barren mountain -region, scarred and ugly. But we never learn this, because we do not -draw near. Love is a mirage. Love is the dancing of the marsh lights. -Therefore pursue, but do not draw near. For once you touch the shining -thing its glamour shall depart, and as the millstone of satiation it -shall hang about your neck." - -"But I understand you never practise your preaching." - -"I am too eager in pursuit. I blunder on the shining thing, and then--" -He shrugged his shoulders with infinite regret. - -Maud Neville joined her hands behind her head. She frowned the least -little bit. She spoke in a hurry. - -"No, that's not love. That's anything you like; but it isn't love. Love -is quite a different thing. Listen to me. Love is the eye that takes -no sleep, the foot that knows no stony road, the heart that bleeds and -feels no wound, the brain that always understands." - -"I see," King said. - -A second time they had nothing to say. As they sat thus, the breeze -journeyed again down the valley. It stirred the hessian blinds against -the fly-proof netting. It came through the open doorway at the verandah -end, and moved the water-bags behind Neville's empty chair. The two -opened their arms to it. It must have brought charity to the heart of -Mr. Wells, for he packed up his cornet for the night: and it may have -touched King's tongue with eloquence. Soon it had gone by. But King got -up and walked to the doorway to throw away his dead cigar. He stood -there some while looking over the country, and the moonbeams revealed -him a stout man, past first youth. Maud Neville fell to examining him. -Now the cornet no more made plaint, complete silence waited on the -night. Something moved her to break the spell. - -"How still it is," she said. "How empty!" - -The man at the doorway did not turn round; but he looked out into the -open as though proving her words. "Still?" he said. His tongue strings -were loosened. "Empty?" He pointed his hand. "Up there, this way, that -way, hear the roar of worlds rolling through the crowded ways of space. -Hear the bellowings of the furnaces, the shrieks of passage, the crash -of collision! Worlds are growing fiery there, worlds are growing cold. -Worlds are dying there. Worlds are finding new birth. The Angel of Life -and his assistant the Angel of Death take no rest. - -"Lift up your veil, O Night, for we would look in. - -"Yes, joy is here, and sorrow is here; hunger is here and repletion is -here; sin is here and righteousness here: hope and despair, love and -hate, anger and forgiveness--all are here. - -"The young lion roars in his triumph, and the old toothless lion has -missed his kill. The nightingale sings from the cypress; and the mouse -is squeaking where the owl swooped down. In a hundred jungles the -beast of prey fills himself; and in haunts of men the ravenous are -abroad also. The lover cries that the couch is waiting, and in the -shadow lurks the assassin. Where men are dying, mothers stand weeping; -and mothers are writhing where men are being born. The student, pale -with learning, trims his lamp and asks for the night to continue; -and the tempest-torn mariner is praying for the dawn. The youngster -smiles at his rosy dreams; and round his father breaks the shock of -battle. The rich man toys with his heaped meats: and to a fireless -garret has crept the pauper. The statesman toils in his chamber; and -the well-dined burgher turns in his sleep. Age pulls the coverlet over -a bony breast; and in the halls of vice youth spends its strength. -In solitude the shepherd guards his flock; and in retreat no less -lonely the miser counts his gold. And hairs are greying, and eyes are -dimming, and babes are crowing. And voices are laughing, and voices are -scolding, and voices are sobbing. How empty the night is? How still the -night is? No! How crowded! How deafening!" - -King came to a full stop. His hand fell to his side. He did not turn -round, and presently he lit another cigar with irritating calm. All -the while, the girl had not stirred in her chair. At last King moved -from the doorway, and at the same time Neville sounded his stick in the -house. He appeared on the verandah with Power behind. The old man was -chuckling to himself and holding out some keys. - -"Huh, huh! I may be wrong; but I think I'll settle that little crowd. -See these? For the tanks. See 'em? I'll be along and fix them up right -away. To-morrow you can watch them line up with their tongues out. Old -Horrington can live on whisky for a while. It's done him before to-day. -Mrs. Johnson can wash in last week's water. It'll make good soup for -the baby. He, he! Huh, huh, huh!" - -"What are you going to do, Father?" - -"Lock the tanks, of course. What d'ye think I mean to do? Drink 'em -dry?" - -"You can't do that." - -"Can't? I may be wrong, but I reckon I can." He wagged his head; and -next gripped his stick and began to stamp down the verandah, but half -way brought up short with a second nod. "Moon or no moon," he said, "I -shall do better with a lantern where I'm going." He went indoors again. - -At the same time King pulled out a watch. "I'll get back." - -Maud from her chair called out to him. "Already, Mr. King? It's not -late. Are you tired of us?" - -"The night is getting cool, and I haven't slept for a week." - -Power looked at the moon. "What's it? Ten?" - -"Twenty to. We may get a change out of this." - -"I don't think so," Power said. - -"At least we'll hope next week is better," Maud cried. "Let's wish for -a storm." - -"And after it the flying ants?" - -"Oh bother them!" Maud said. "Where's the romance of the wilderness?" - -King answered her. "Romance is somewhere just out of sight. Some day I -shall sit in a cooler country, having forgotten the taste of heat and -flies, and I shall start sighing for the old romantic days at Surprise. -And now for a nightcap before bed." - -"Mr. King, you are breaking rules." - -"But this is Surprise and we are in the last week of October. Much can -be forgiven when you live at Surprise during the last week of October." - -"The rule is three, and that makes number five." - -"Alas!" - -"Well, never again." - -King put down his empty glass. "Good night. - -"Good night." - -He went through the doorway into the open and down the steps. His -footfalls crunched on the bed of the dry creek. The return of Neville -overwhelmed them. The old man held a lighted lantern, and fumbled -impatiently at the wick. "Where's King?" he demanded, lifting shaggy -eyebrows over the top. - -"Gone home a moment ago," Maud said. - -"Er! I knew as much. He knows what he's about. I meant him to come with -me." - -"He's good company," Power said, settling again in the old seat. - -"I love him," Maud said. "One moment he makes me laugh and the next -he makes me think. I don't know yet whether he is a wise man or a -mountebank." - -"Where does he come from?" Power asked. "You said he was a solicitor, -didn't you?" - -The old man snapped down the glass of the hurricane lamp. - -"I heard tell he was a solicitor somewhere and got kicked out. As soon -as he touches money he can't go straight. He would sell his mother up. -Huh, huh! He's a gentleman to walk shy of while you've a few pounds to -spare. Go to him for a goat, and he'll sell you one of mine. He has -done business over half the fowls on the lease, though he never owned -a feather. He, he! I can't help respecting his abilities. He's got a -finger in most copper shows within fifty miles. The silly coves get him -to draw up their agreements, and he takes care that his name comes in -somewhere or other." Neville chuckled himself to the end of his tale, -then said, "You had better be away, Power. I'm going to bed when I get -back." He went through the door. - -"Take care!" Maud called out. - -"Er?" - -"Take care." - -A growl was her thanks. In course of time the old man had scrambled -down the steps and across the creek. - -"So much for our friend, John King," said Power. - -At Surprise Valley the rule is early to bed. First chop the wood and -milk the goats. Then soothe or slap the baby to sleep. After tea, -a seat in the doorway and a smoke. After a smoke, an exchange of -maledictions on the weather. The lamps in the tents begin to go out by -nine o'clock. The frustrated moths and flying ants betake themselves -elsewhere, and the mosquito sings a solo requiem in the dark. On cool -nights and nights of breezes, the people of Surprise put out lights at -even an earlier hour, for sleep is likely to prove kinder mistress. -To-night already three parts of Surprise were sleeping. To be true, -Mr. Wells was thinking of a last pipe; and Mr. Horrington, whisky -bottle at elbow, was cogitating a nightcap. Also, a light burned yet in -the latest rigged tent. Mr. Pericles Smith--travelling schoolmaster, -arrived here on his rounds--after chopping the firewood, hunting the -goats away, putting the kettle off the boil, and performing sundry -other exercises, was snatching a few moments with the help of a candle -at his monumental work on the aboriginal languages of Australia. -Nowhere else lights pierced the walls. The moon fell over high land -and low land, upon house and tent, and steeped in romance the dreary -prospects of the day. The Man in the Moon looked down on a fairy city. - - . . . . . . . - -I have brought you now to the beginning of my chronicle: I have laid -the stage and you are left with the chief players. The story is written -in a thumbed volume of the Book of Life, and it is time to lift down -the tome from its shelf. Look for no tremendous tale, for at Surprise -the day wags through its journey as elsewhere--sorrow tastes as bitter -here, pleasure drinks as sweetly, and the human heart beats time to -old, old tunes. Look for no great story then, for I have it not to -tell--you are to find two lovers, you are to have the history of their -loves, and learn how one was rude apprentice to the trade, and what -apprenticeship had to teach him. - - . . . . . . . - -The man and woman on the verandah had tumbled into their own thoughts. -But presently Power rose in his seat, and moved it beside Maud Neville. -He sat down again--he leaned forward and raised one of her hands. -Fingers closed on his own. "Kiss me, Maud," he said, in no more than a -whisper. - -He bent close over the girl. His face approached hers until he and she -saw each other clearly in the dark. They kissed with much passion. As -Maud released him, she touched his forehead with her lips. - -"I thought we should never be left alone. I was getting disgusted and -going home. I came with a lot to tell you. I was full of ideas, but you -were bent on avoiding me." - -"Poor fellow! As bad as that? You should have come earlier. I couldn't -get up and leave the others, you silly. Mr. King doesn't come very -often. What have you to say so important?" - -"Maybe I'm not telling it now." - -He was laughed at for his pains. "You want coaxing? Is that what's the -matter?" - -"This is it then. I can't wait longer. We have been engaged long -enough. I want you to marry me--soon I mean, this month or next. -Everything is ready over there. We'll choose a date to-night." - -"And you are ready for Father?" - -"He can't refuse again. We've waited so long." - -"Perhaps." - -"Then desperation will give me courage. Now for the promise." - -"I said nothing about a promise. You must think I am awfully fond of -you." - -Power leaned forward again. Their faces came close together. Her eyes -were wide open and looked straight into his. Fondness appeared in them, -deep as the sea. Power began again to speak. - -"It has become so lonely over there. I think about you all day long. -The house has grown miserable. It has turned to a graveyard. If you -appeared there, things would become what they were. You must marry me -soon. I have been too patient." - -He stooped and, in place of speech, he began to kiss her hair, her -face, her hands. Presently she put an arm about his neck, and kept him -willing prisoner. "What about your promise?" he said once more. - -She had not done with coquetry. "What makes you think I am so fond of -you?" - -"And don't you like me a little bit? A little bit?" - -"Perhaps a little bit." She put both arms about his neck. "My good -friend, you are everything in the world to me. My silly life begins and -ends in you. This great love of mine has quite eaten me up. Why, what -would I do without you. You came as a brand to a cold hearth and set it -aflame. Something in my heart sings now all day long." - -Passion came over them as a surge of the sea, as a storm of wind. They -bent close to each other, thinking no thought. Their breaths mingled. -Their hearts marked one time. - -At last she released her prisoner. Her eyes were shining in the dark. -She began to speak in a low, eager voice. She might have been a -messenger bringing glad tidings. - -"You will never understand what this love has meant to me. You and -I--we are different metals refining in the same furnace, and the fire -does not treat us alike. My life at last has become easy to live. It -is a simple and a grand thing. Think of Dingo Gap or Pelican Pool -without sun or flies. Wouldn't they be wonderful places? Well, I find -life changed as much as that. The little happenings no more have power -to annoy. My eyes are strong to see straight ahead. In all matters I -am undisturbed. This love of mine is a holy thing. It will brook no -meanness. It will stoop to no crooked ways. Something cries out in my -heart to grow and grow. I would bring you a wide-open mind. I would -offer you a body as beautiful as that girl we talked of half-an-hour -ago." - -She began again. "And now, my good friend--yes, you who look at me so -fondly--I am going to hurt you a little bit. I am going to tell you you -have brought me my moments of sorrow. For a long time now I have known -that your love and my love are of different kinds. Bad hours arrived -for me once when an evil spirit whispered that you did not understand -me, and therefore you could not truly love me. The whisperer said -Nature demanded you should go hungering after a woman, and there was no -choice but me. The whisperer said until you knew me, and demanded me -because of your new knowledge, that my affections were anchored in the -sands. - -"But I have pushed aside the whisperer. I love you, and that is all -that matters. For love knows nothing of hunger and unrest, of hope -grown old and other miseries. Love is the clear light, and those the -winds that wrestle for it, that are not of it and can never hurt it. -But you will not test my strength? Answer me. You will not test it?" - -"No, my girl. But your words could be kinder. I have no quick tongue -like yours to tell my tale. I know this, that I am weary of waiting for -you. Don't let us waste more of life. We have the whole world to see, -and when we have grown tired, we shall come back here. The old home I -am so sick of will grow beautiful under your care. I shall ride away in -the morning, knowing evening will find you waiting for me----" - -"Yes, yes, I shall be waiting for you, and you will arrive hot and -tired, and you will say 'I won't eat anything.' But I shall coax you. -And later on we shall sit together in the light of this same old moon, -which will have travelled round a few times more, and will have become -a little paler with watching. And we shall talk about olden days. And -then we shall begin to grow old together, and I shall count your first -grey hairs and--why, Jim, you are laughing at me!" - -"Am I? Then give me my promise, for I must go home." - -"What am I to say, Jim? You know I want the marriage as much as you -do. But father is an old man, and there is nobody but me to look after -him. He wouldn't think of giving up the mine to live with us. If you -like, we can ask him again to-night. Then if he says no, I shall stay -with him a little longer, and at last we must tell him it is our turn -to choose. That's fair, Jim, isn't it? No, don't look sulky. I am quite -right." - -"You won't always put it off like this? I am growing bad-tempered over -there." - -"You silly boy, you are only a few miles away. We see each other every -week. But we may catch father in a soft moment. We must find him after -he has locked the tanks. He'll be in such a good humour at the thought -of a fight to-morrow, that he may say yes. Let's find him now. Go away, -stupid, I want to get up." - -Maud rose to her feet, shook out her dress, and pushed her hair out -with her fingers. She kissed Power for the last time, and they went -down the steps into the moonlight. She ran ahead, taking little heed -of her footing. The stones in the creek were thick and rough, and she -trod them with quick feet while Power crunched behind. The stable was -not far away, and they followed the fence towards it. The horses stood -together with drooped heads at the lower end of the yard. All this -quarter of the camp was picked out plainly in the moonlight. - -A figure moved about the stable. It was Neville back from his rounds. -Maud nodded her head in his direction. - -"There's father waiting for us," she said. "Now Mr.-my-friend-Jim, are -you feeling as brave as you were?" - -"You must look after me." - -"Certainly not. I never pretended to be brave." - -"I shall find courage somehow." - -Old Neville's voice arrived. "Be smart ye two. You've been an awful -time. I expected ye gone long ago, Power. That fool groom has jammed -the door so as I can't get in. I'll let him hear about it to-morrow. -See if you can do anything. He, he! ye'll have to do something, or -ye'll go bareback home. What did ye want to come along for, Maud? Can't -you let him alone for a minute? That's the way to sicken a man of ye." -All three met outside the stable door. "D'ye see what I mean?" Neville -said. - -Power moved the door in course of time. The old man went in first with -the lantern. "Take the saddle and hurry up. I want to get to bed." - -Power carried the saddle to the fence. Maud had taken the bridle and -had gone in search of the horse which knew her and would stand. In a -little while she was leading it back. Power had taken his opportunity. - -"Mr. Neville, Maud and I talked things over to-night, and we want to -get married. You won't mind, I hope?" - -The old man was rooting with his stick in a corner of the stable. "Er?" -he said, looking up. - -"We're thinking of getting married," Power said again louder. - -"Have you still that in your heads? I told ye 'No' before. Here, come -here. Look at that fellow! I'll fire him off the lease before he's any -older. Look at him! Thrown it all in a corner. No, ye must wait. Ye're -both young, and I'm an old man. Goodness! look here! Maud's an annoying -girl, but I'd be put out without her. Here's the mare. Come outside -with ye. Maud, I hear you're on again about gettin' married. I won't -have it. Ye've plenty of time for that sort of thing." - -"You're not fair, father. You're not a bit fair. You won't listen to -reason. You never discuss anything. I'm not a child still. When will -you realize that?" - -The old man lifted his shaggy eyebrows over the lantern. He seemed -rather surprised. "Listen to reason! And you come to me when everyone -is in bed. Ye call that reason! It's just like you. Bah!" - -"Maud is right, Mr. Neville. You haven't been fair about this." Power's -temper was never hard to discover, and Maud frowned him quiet. The old -man looked at the ground, and scratched his head a moment or two and -wagged it. - -"I suppose, Power, ye'll be round in a day or two?" - -"I'm bringing cattle through the end of this week." - -"I'll talk about it then. Now be away with you. Come home, Maud." - -The old man of Surprise blew out the lantern and began the journey to -the house. Maud in meek mood followed him. - -"Good night, Jim," were her last words. - -"Good night," Power called back. - -Power saddled the mare, and let down the slip-rail of the yard. His -whip was coiled on his arm. In a moment he was mounted and had turned -towards home. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -PELICAN POOL - - -Kaloona Homestead lies distant from Surprise fifteen Queensland miles, -and the traveller by that road learns a Queensland mile is a mile and -anything you wish beyond. The red track runs all the way--over outcrops -of rock, across grassy levels and through dry creek beds, nearly to the -gateway of the homestead. Kaloona Homestead stands among timber on one -of the big holes of the river. - -All the traffic of the neighbourhood takes this direction, and keeps -safe the roadway from the teeth of the waiting bush. Once a week the -mine buggy journeys to outlying shafts. Out of the distance crawl a -pair of horses, an ancient four-wheeled carriage, two men seated up -there in collarless shirts and khaki trousers, a swinging waterbottle -and a following of dust. Once a month Mr. Carroll, timekeeper, armed -with revolver and sustained with thoughts of a peg at the farther end, -bumps along in the back seat of the buggy with the pay for the smaller -mines. Along this path the horse-driver bullies a groaning load to the -mine furnaces, and wins the plain by ready tongue and a generous hand. -His dogs shuffle in the shade of the waggon. The copper gougers come -in from labours in the far places, and follow the red way to store and -hotel; and the kangaroo shooter, astride his shabby beast, arrives -with empty provision bags from lonely hunting grounds. But commonly -you travel all day under a greedy sun, and meet none of these things. -The plain rolls away, and no wayfarer appears, unless there leap up a -kangaroo startled in his bed chamber. - -Power took the homeward road with never a thought to its emptiness. -He was no apprentice to the bush. He could read the signs of the way, -be the time day or night. Now a moon was in the middle of the sky, -the path was well trodden, a fair mount carried him, and the night -cooled--the journey would be done in the turning of his thoughts. He -rode with loose rein, idle spur, and seat easy in the saddle. Yet a -clever horse might not have got the better of him. - -The mare carried him at a fast walk, asking neither check nor spur. -Single tents, tents in twos and threes, and rickety lean-tos rose up -among the gullies on both hands, and quickly a score of them had fallen -behind. In none burned a light, and no greeting arrived other than the -quick bark of curs. A bend of the road and the base of the hill cut off -the camp. From now forward the journey would prove a lonely business. -The creak of a saddle and the brief pad of hoofs in the dust were to be -the song of voyage. - -Afoot or on horseback, Power was a wide-awake man. He saw most of what -was worth seeing. He could see, realize and do on the instant. But he -had his moments of reflection. He was aware of the tents, the lean-tos -and the rubbish on the ground. But he had fallen into thought before -going far on the way. Were he devout lover, now was the scene and now -the hour to delight in the virtues of his lady. - -He loosened his feet in the stirrups to the tips of his toes, and -lifted his hat from his head. A vague breeze moved across his cheek, -and he turned gratefully to it; but it was dead as soon as it was born. -Still, the night was cooling, and the plain was wide and free after the -verandah at Surprise. The moon had taken station in the middle of the -sky, frighting all but a few stars which gleamed wanly here and there. -She was a lamp to all that great red country--by day full of majesty, -now touched to beauty by her genius. The walk of the mare soothed him -strangely. - -Power was a man of fair learning and experience. He was a bushman -born, but the South had given him education of some width. He had had -a share of travel. He could remember other lands and fair cities. Men, -now forgotten, had rubbed shoulders with him; and one or two women had -passed in and out of his life with a few laughs and sighs. Seldom he -called them to mind. Maud Neville only had brought him to captivity. -Her brain was mate for his brain, her heart was mate for his heart: -there would be bonds to bind them when passion had passed away. - -His thoughts went back to her, where he had seen her last following -the old man towards the house. He found himself thinking very tenderly -of her. Soon now she would come across to brighten the old homestead, -and life would never be quite the same again. He must pull his habits -into shape. He must remember freedom would have to go in harness, and -the curb might chafe at first. He must be abroad at dawn and home by -nightfall, and give up this riding over the country as the humour took -him. The cattle camp must see him less, the hearth must see him more; -others could do the rough work, and they would do it as well as he. - -There came to mind the first time he had seen Maud Neville, a day -or two after the coach had brought her from the South. He had not -discovered her charm in the beginning. He put a high price on beauty -always, and here was a girl but poorly favoured. But that she made -the old man's home bright there was no denying, and now he walked in -willing captivity. He loved her, and she loved him almost too well. She -read him to the last word, while her own face was covered with a veil -which he had not the skill to pluck aside. She had said a little while -ago that he had much to learn in the art of loving, and perhaps she had -spoken the truth. His affection only had his spare time, and was shabby -exchange for a spiritual love like her own. Yet she seemed content. -Well, she should teach him in the days to come, and she would find him -a ready student. Just now he was on the way home, and to-morrow was -bringing a long day with cattle. There were other things for a man to -do besides making love. - -He tumbled back to everyday matters when the mare whinnied loudly. He -looked about him. He found he had been carried into the plains. Behind, -and on the left hand, ranges filled the horizon; ahead ran the dark -belt of timber which followed the river. Power guessed at it rather -than saw it. Pelican Pool was four miles away in a straight line; but -the road bent in a little distance, and met the river several miles -lower down. - -All at once Power grew alert. The sight of a riderless horse called for -more than a meander of thoughts. The animal stood a long way off in the -shadow of a small tree near the track. It was saddled, and the reins -hung to the ground. Power looked about the neighbourhood for the rider, -and quickly found him, spread out in the middle of the road. At once he -shook the mare into life and trotted forward. The horse under the tree -whinnied at their approach; but there was no movement from the form in -the path. At the last moment the mare took fright, and Power was hard -employed to bring her to reason. He jumped presently to the ground and -bent over the body. He found a heavy man in middle years lying on his -back, breathing with deep snores. It was a matter for proof if the -man were hurt; but there was no doubt of his drunkenness. A bottle of -whisky filled a pocket. The fellow's head was cut, and blood had dried -on it; but search discovered no other injury, and Power took him by the -shoulder and shook him--firmly at first, afterwards roughly. The snores -turned into chokes, the chokes became groans. Power tired of such a -tardy cure, and exchanged hand for foot. The fallen man opened his eyes. - -"Day, mate. Wot do you think you're doing to a cove?" - -"Are you all right?" Power said. - -"Right enough to stop a cove going through me pockets." The fellow -licked his lips. "It's flamin' hot, mate!" - -"Get up," said Power. - -"Wot's got you so blooming anxious?" - -"I found you on the road just now. There's the horse under the tree. -It's midnight. You'll have to hurry some to be anywhere by morning." - -"I'm stayin' here." - -"You'll perish when the sun gets up." There was a silence while they -looked at each other. Then the man swore, struggled a little and sat -up. "Have you far to go?" Power said. - -"Pelican Pool." - -"Are you Gregory?" - -"That's me when I'm home." - -Power lost patience. "Well, what the devil are you doing? Are you -coming or staying?" - -"You're a nice bloke to help a sick cove." Gregory came across the -whisky bottle. He dragged it from his pocket, and waved it in the -moonlight. "I reckon I've a thirst you couldn't buy; no, not fer -ten quid. Have one at the same time? No! I reckoned as much from a -long-faced coot like you!" - -"Get up," Power said, "and I'll give you a hand with the horse." - -The beast waited for Power to catch it. Gregory had found his feet, -and stood in the middle of the path looking at the whisky bottle. -He proved very groggy; but recourse to the bottle put him in braver -spirit, and he fell to cursing Surprise and all that lies within its -gates. - -"Here you are," Power said. "Go steady. I'll leg you up." - -It took trouble and a pretty play of oaths to bring about the lifting -up. The horse stood like a rock. Gregory swore his leg was broken; but -he gained the saddle, and afterwards kept balance in a surprising way. -Power, in no good temper, turned things over, and decided to take him -to the Pool. It meant a journey longer by five miles--bad luck which -swearing wouldn't mend. - -"Come on," he said. "I'm going your way. Shake up that beast of yours. -I don't want to be all night." - -He turned the mare's head to Pelican Pool, and she started the journey, -walking fast. The other horse kept company at a jog-trot. Gregory began -a rough ride. But he held his attention to the whisky bottle, and had -spilled a big part of it before they were a mile on the way. The empty -bottle was thrown grandly to the ground. As time went by he turned very -friendly. - -"I'll be showing you something in a mile or two--my oath! yes--the -best copper show in the Gulf, or in Queensland for that matter. There's -a fortune there, I say. D'yer hear me? I'll be driving my buggy and -pair yet. I'll be buying more grog in a day than that cove at the pub -sells in a year. No more blanky shovelling for me, you make no error. -I'll have all the buyers in the country there 'fore the week's out. Old -Neville down at Surprise, he'll be on his knees prayin' me to sell it -him. 'Ear me?" - -"I hear you," Power said. And with the last bit of good temper left he -added, "Are you far down?" - -"Matter o' thirty foot, and ore all the way. I tell yer I'll be the -richest man this side of Brisbane. 'Ear wot I say?" - -With spells of talk and spells of silence, they made the rest of the -journey. Gregory was more master of himself on a horse than on the -ground, and at the hour's end the travelling was done. Where they -approached it the river ran in the rains with a two-mile span; but now -the bed was dry and filled with stones and sand. Many mean trees grew -in this country. Over stones and sand the riders passed, and under -trees bearing in their branches the rubbish of forgotten floods. As -they went on, the timber became dense and grew to a noble size; and -presently here and there among distant laced branches showed the -surface of Pelican Pool. The water was lit by the light of the moon. -The Pool was shrinking every day; but it still covered a mile of -country, and its breadth was a fair swimmer's journey. - -"Where's the camp?" Power said. - -"By the castor-oil bush." - -Thereupon they inclined to the right hand. Large reaches of the Pool -were now plainly to be seen--very fair they showed in the moonlight, -with weeds trailing about the water, and here and there a large white -lily a-bloom. Small fishes leaped in the shallows. Trees leaned -patiently over both banks, spreading knotted arms. Now the camp came -out of the trees. Two tents were rigged side by side; and not very -far off had been built a room of poles and hessian. About an open-air -fireplace were the ashes of the day's fire. A dog tied near the tents -uncurled at their coming, and fell to barking with great good will. - -"We're here," Gregory said. "The old woman must have turned in." - -"Better quiet the dog, then," Power answered. "Go steady there. I'll -see you down." - -He jumped to the ground and threw a stone at the dog, which dropped its -tail and stopped barking. He held Gregory's horse, and Gregory climbed -down. The man was fairly on his legs, when a keen voice called from -one of the tents--"Is that you, boss? Boosed, I suppose?" - -"There's a gen'leman here to see yer," Gregory shouted. - -"Wot?" - -"A gen'leman to see yer." - -"Aw, blast yer, come to bed an' don't wake me up." - -"I tell yer a gen'leman's here." - -"Can't yer shut it?" - -"Gen'leman. I say. Gen'leman." - -A pause followed on this. At last the voice from the tent cried--"Get -up, Moll, and see wot dad's after. I've not had a square sleep fer a -week." - -"Aw," said somebody in the second tent. - -But in that tent a person stirred. Gregory shouted again. "Be quick, -Moll. Light a lantern. The moon's no good to me in these durned trees." - -"Wait a minute, can't yer?" - -Power picked up the reins and remounted the mare. He had had his fill -of the affair, and was riding away. "You're right now," he said to -Gregory. "Good night." The gleam of a lantern appeared through the -canvas of the tent. "Good night," Power called out a second time. The -tent door was pushed aside, and a girl came into the open, holding a -lighted lantern above her head. - -Power pulled up his beast. The girl that stood there was scantily -dressed. Her hair fell down her back. She was very near him, and she -held the lantern that she might look him over; but the rays of light -fell all about her own head and shoulders. She stared at him, not a -whit disturbed at the sudden meeting. - -A moment had brought Power face to face with the great experience of -his life. The girl's beauty was beyond any imagining. He sat astride -the mare with dropped reins, staring at her. - -There, in a broken tent, in that forgotten place by the river, was one -of those women who have commanded the tears and prayers of men since -the world began to turn. The girl stood with the light of the lantern -falling about her, with that in the carriage of her head for which a -sage would forget his learning, with that in her eyes for which a saint -would forego his hope of Paradise, with that in her form for which a -poet would break the strings of his lyre. To look a moment on her was -to grow hungry, to look long on her was to banish peace. - -For that most cunning work of a great craftsman was a chalice holding -the poisoned potion of desire; that rich body was an altar whereon -burned the fires of longing; that loveliness was doomed to linger as -midwife to men's tears. The spirit of all that is untamed made home in -that form, and beside it dwelt the spirit of all that shall not find -rest. And sight of that fairness brought taste of what man reaches for -and may not touch, of what man climbs after to fall from with bruised -knees. - -Her figure was quick and strong and supple; her hair lay about her head -as an aureole; her eyes were great and bright and deep; her feet were -slender and without blemish; her lips waited on the coming of some -supreme adventure. - -Quite suddenly Power found the girl speaking to him. She held her head -a little sideways and was looking over him. - -"Are you camping here, Mister?" she said. - -Power was startled out of his words. He sat up straight again. "No, -thanks. I came along with your father. I'm going on now." - -"We can give you a shake-down. It's no worry." - -"No, thanks. I must get home. I'm mustering to-morrow. Good night." - -"Good night, Mister." - -Power rode home at a foot pace. He thought of the girl all the way. Her -beauty had moved him more than anything he had known. - -Midnight had chimed at Surprise, and the camp was asleep. The party -telling stories from their long chairs outside the staff quarters had -been broken up an hour since in a last "A-haw." Mr. Wells had forgotten -his cornet, and Mr. Horrington, rather muddled, had found his stretcher -and blown out the light. Houses, humpies and tents were in the dark. -But outside, the pallor of the moon fell, making filigree work of the -leaves on the trees, and staring coldly into the eyes of sleepy curs, -which blinked back from their beds in the grasses. - -The camp was asleep; but one person had stayed awake. The slight figure -of a woman sat at the top of the steps leading down from the verandah -of Neville's house. She sat crouched up, chin in hands, so still as to -be unearthly. She had sat thus with hardly a movement for a long time. - -Maud had said good night to her father on their return. The house had -seemed stifling. She went into her bedroom, drew the curtains wide from -the window so that the room was filled with light, opened the door -leading to the verandah, undressed, and went to bed. For more than an -hour she lay awake, counting the moonbeams on the wall, and listening -to the song of the mosquitoes. Then she gave up pretence. She sat up in -bed, slipped a wrap round her, and crossed to the window on bare feet. -The night looked very charming outside, and soon she left the room, -crossed the bare boards lightly as a night spirit, and came to a little -balcony at the head of the steps leading down from the verandah. She -sat down on the top step, putting her naked feet on the one below. - -Yes, the night was charming out here--calm, empty and cooled by the -ghosts of little breezes, which fluttered an instant on her face and -fainted. There was pleasure in believing that she was the only one -awake. It was strange to look on this slumbering camp, bearding the -wilderness. She might have been a sentry watching that the hungry -bush did not devour it in the hours of night. This habit of keeping -the night watch had become a custom lately. The hour brought her more -profit than any other of the twenty-four. She was not hot and fagged; -she spoke the truth to herself; she could trust her judgments. The -calm watered her soul as a shower of rain, so that it swelled up, and -flowers broke from it. It was wonderful this growth of soul which -lately had been her portion, this serenity brought about by losing -herself in another. Sitting here, she told herself how thankful she -ought to be. Night was very kind, like some nurse who whispers her -child into sweet dreams. - -This comprehension of life, this sureness of decision, had all grown up -in two years. This renouncing of oneself that another might profit was -the fountain from which gushed the purest waters at which the spirit -could drink. Yet how many drank at that fountain? Instead, they sat -at the windows of their houses in the streets of life, and remarked -indifferently the pale faces glued to the panes across the way. Unless -it happened that someone, sick with the bloodless silence, broke down -one of those bolted doors and pushed inside, the faces sat always -staring down the street, and the winds of desolation sweeping down the -chimney at even, scattered the flames upon the hearth, and starved the -watchers at their seats. - -A good love was a wonderful thing, like the fire of the refiner, -burning away the dross and leaving the pure metal. She had found it a -philosopher's stone, making life golden, giving her humour to laugh -when her father was tiresome, leaving her proof against the little -annoyances of the day. And better than that. No shortcomings in the -man she loved caused her misgiving now. He was easy to anger; a little -selfish sometimes; he was thoughtless often. But love had brought -understanding of him, and understanding meant forgiveness. She blessed -him as she thought of him on his way across the plain, rejoicing that -she might serve him, thankful to him for the growth of spirit he had -caused in her. - -The little breezes sighed, fanned her a moment and passed on, a few -leaves turned on the trees; but she sat wrapped in the serenity of her -contemplation. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -KALOONA RUN - - -Power was abroad again before sunrise. Daylight moved over the country, -and he bathed, dressed, and pulled on his boots while butcher birds -called, and small finches bobbed and twittered in the bushes. As he -made an end of his task, the sun rose with menacing countenance. He -went outside, looked which way the breeze was, and next walked down the -track to the stable. He stopped at the door, threw it open, and cried -out loud, "Scandalous Jack! Hullo there!" - -At the back of the stable sounded a shuffling, and a small man, with -bristling beard and chipped yellow teeth set in a weather-worn face, -came out of the shadow, broom in hand. He stood in front of Power, and -put his hands together on top of the broom handle, spat carefully, -wiped his hairy mouth and shouted--"Marnin', Guv'nor. You're late." - -Power nodded. "I was late back from Surprise last night. I'll be away -after breakfast though. Did they get in the black horse?" - -"Aye, they brought him in yesterday. He broke from the mob and showed -Mick his heels for two mile. He's first rate--a bit soft maybe--and -as cranky as ever. Ye must watch him or he'll pelt you this side o' -the flat. Aye, aye, ye may ride above a bit, but I'm telling yer." -Scandalous jerked his head. - -"I'll look at him." - -"Come on then." - -The two men disappeared into the stable. They came to a stall at the -end of a row, and there, tied to a ring in the manger, stood a grand -upstanding horse, black-coated from poll to coronet, which met their -coming with ears laid down and a white flash of teeth. It was an animal -to fill the eye of any man. It stood at sixteen hands to an inch or so -either way, ribbed up as a barrel, with great quarters and shoulders -sloped for speed. Its head was delicate for all its other proportions, -but there was that in the eye to tell a man to go about his business -warily. It showed a fair condition for a first day's stabling. - -"Yes, he's pretty right," Power said. He called out to the animal to -stand over, and went to its head, and he had looked it all about before -coming away. - -"Mick got off with his lot?" he said. - -Scandalous Jack went on speaking at a shout. "Aye, they were away be -four in the marnin'. Mick says he'll be mustered and have the mob at -Ten Mile midday. You're meeting him there, Guv'nor, for the cutting -out, I reckon?" Power nodded his head. "Mick says to-night's camp's -going up lower end of Pelican Pool." Scandalous looked very wise. - -"What do you mean?" - -"Mick's doin' good work there." - -"You're a fool, Scandalous." - -"I may be that. Some fools see more than wise men with spectacles. Have -ye heard about the gouger's girl there?" - -"What about her?" - -"Mick's silly as a snake on her. They say she's a daddy for looks." - -"I'm for breakfast," Power said. "Give this horse a look over. I'll -want him in an hour." - -Power went to breakfast. It was ready for him in a low bare room, -with fly netting on doors and windows. One door opened on a verandah, -where creepers waged war with the climate. Mrs. Elliott, the cook, and -Maggie, the maid of all other work, had found excuse to wait for him. -He knew the sign of old, and prepared to be discreet. He nodded his -good morning. "Breakfast in?" he asked. - -Maggie answered with great good will. "It's been getting cold this ten -minutes." - -She was a handsome girl in the early morning, before the heat fagged -her. Mrs. Elliott, in middle life, ample and beaming, busied herself -briskly doing nothing, waiting to take the talk her way. The two women -attacked him together. - -"You must eat a good breakfast, Mr. Power. You've a long day before -you. You were very late abed, Mr. Power. You can't burn the candle at -both ends." - -"He's always late, Mrs. Elliott, when he comes back from Surprise." The -women shook their heads at each other. "And how was Miss Neville, Mr. -Power?" - -"She was very well, thanks. I must get a turkey or a wallaby. I've lost -my appetite for curry and steak half the week, and steak and curry the -other half." - -"And me so put about with the breakfast," exclaimed Mrs. Elliott, -twisting her apron. "All men are the same, ungrateful, every man jack -o' them. As soon look for gratitude from calves in a branding yard. -Now I suppose as Miss Neville she'll be turning over a date for the -wedding?" - -"You're learning too many secrets, Mrs. Elliott." - -"I know more than other folk already." - -"And that means?" - -Mrs. Elliott twirled her apron once more and looked wise. "I'm hinting -nothing. I know where Mick O'Neill goes of a night." - -Power tipped himself back in the chair. "What are you cackling over -this morning? I hope your news is fresher than last?" - -"What's he running after that gel for?" - -"I've not heard of any girl." - -"He's a good fer nothing fellow, and the little hussy's no better." - -Maggie took up the tale. "They're all stupid on her 'cos she has a few -looks. That's all a man wants." - -"They're not all like that, Meg. Mr. Power here, he has more sense. -He took up with Miss Neville, and though she's as nice as may be, her -looks are nothing out of the bag." - -Power said something under his breath. He went on with his breakfast, -and the women despaired of him. In the end, out of a full mouth, he -said:-- - -"You had better see Scandalous Jack. I'm too hungry for talking. He -wanted to tell me a lot this morning." - -"That nasty little man! I wouldn't demean myself with him. I told him -half an hour since I'd put a kettle o' water over him if he showed his -ugly face in at the door agen." - -The women withdrew routed. - -In a little while Power followed them from the room. Standing in the -verandah, he lit a pipe. His swag had gone on in the cook's waggon, and -there remained only a few minutes' office work and he might get away. -The old willingness to be in the saddle took hold of him. His heart was -in the cattle work. The longest day made him more ready for the next. A -good horse, a whip to his hand, the bellow of a mob in his ears--these -things kept his heart evergreen. - -Morning had come, the birds had whistled him from bed, the sun had -climbed up; but the glamour of last night had not passed quite away. He -found himself--and little pleased he was at it--he found himself more -than once waking to the day's affairs from dreams of a girl holding up -a lantern at the doorway of a tent by a river. - -Mrs. Elliott had forgiven the churlishness of breakfast, and waited -with an ample lunch, secure from sun and flies. He promised to be back -some day or other, took up a dripping water-bag and his whip, and -passed to the stable. The black horse, saddled and waiting, fidgeted by -the door, and Scandalous Jack was taking aggressive charge. - -Scandalous thrust up his hard face to shout a warning. - -"He'll be shaking yer up, boss, I reckon. He fooled me half an hour -'fore I had the saddle on him." - -"Wants a day's work," Power said. He looked over the girths and secured -the water-bag. All he did was gentle and cautious. At the touch of -the wet canvas the black horse snorted, reared up and swung about. -Scandalous, very fond of his corns, retired in a hurry. With voice and -a firm handling Power kept the beast in check. He had completed matters -in a few minutes. Whereupon he coiled the whip on his arm, and drew -together the reins. He went about the mounting with cunning, and when -the moment of moments came, was in the saddle in one movement. - -The black horse squealed, and its head went down between its legs as -a stone from a catapult. It came high off the ground, all four feet -together, in a great bucking plunge which tried all Power's skill to -ride. The ground fell away from him and spun about, there came to his -ears a great straining of leather, and he knew a fierce shock as the -brute went to earth. Instinct set him leaning back, with legs fierce -gripping and toes down pointing. Horse and rider went up again, with -a heave tremendous beyond belief, and there was an instant when Power -stared down at emptiness. They were down and up in one breathing, and -away with great bounds that threw them across the yard. A heave, a -thud, a grunt and a swing brought them about, and on the heels of it -they were going up into the air again. Down then and up into space -again, all four feet together, groaning with the effort, while the hot -dust streamed into Power's face. The rally was over in a dozen seconds, -and the horse stood heaving, and Power settled himself in the saddle. - -"Rough horse that!" Scandalous shouted from the fence. - -"He makes it too hot to last." - -"Don't take him cheap on that lay. He'll be rid of yer yet. He'll give -yer all you know one of these days, and I'm taking no odds on who's the -better." - -It had just turned eight o'clock when Power began the ride, but -already the sun was powerful, and the birds flagged at their songs. -He journeyed at walking pace, watching the horse carefully the first -few miles. Last traces of early cool were departing. A few threads of -gossamer shimmered among the spikes of the grasses, and blundering -hoofs tore them apart. A few feeding kangaroos sat at late breakfast. -The homestead moved behind the trees, and he and the beast he rode were -all that passed across the plain. - -He grew contented at once now he had made a beginning of the day's -work. As another man forgets his ill-humours in the counting-house, or -the library, or his mistress's bower, so Power turned for distraction -to his saddle and his whip. A bushman's heart was his birthright; -a bushman's cunning was the legacy of fiery summer afternoons on -horseback, and frosty winter dawns spent abroad. In the dreariest -page of Nature he found reading. His eye was quick to read the riddle -of the ways. The fall of a hill, the sweep of a dry creek bed, a few -patterings of passage in the dust--these answered most questions he -asked. In that country was no better judge of where to come up with a -mob of cattle, nor one, be it night or day, who rode straighter to a -point. He passed over the plain sitting easy in the saddle, pipe in -mouth, whip on arm, his head fallen forward, as a man sits asleep. But -his eyes peered abroad, and his brain was active. He rode to muster as -the knight of old rode to the tourney. - -His way led by a short cut through the ranges. The trysting place -lay just beyond. At a few miles end, he was entering a pass of -magnificence. The ranges lifted up on either hand, with mighty boulders -resting about their sides, and difficult caves--home of bat and -wallaby--opening dark mouths. The way took him below stunted trees, and -over brittle fallen boughs, and across stones which slipped beneath -the horse's feet. A second gully crossed the head of the pass, and -escapes led into the hills. Here was an old watch-ground of the blacks. -The difficult part of the journey had come. Power left the saddle for -the ground. The path turned left-handed, to clamber over a multitude -of rocks to easier country. In the rains a waterfall swirled this way. -Here and again here a pool of clear water was lodged in a basin of -rock, and above one such pool Nature had scooped a shelter in the hill. -Past tribes of men had left rude paintings on the wall. With snorts and -steadying cries the journey was done, and man and beast came out into a -wide timbered prospect. - -It was a fair spot to hap on in that desolate country, with a good -gathering of trees about a dry creek bed, and one or two late birds -twittering in them, and a muster of insects going about their day's -work over the hot ground. There were grateful patches of shade. This -was Ten Mile. At noon O'Neill had vowed to be at hand with the mob. -Power looked at the sun and guessed at ten o'clock. He turned over -whether to go farther; but a wait in the shade was better argument -than a ride in the open. He took the saddle from the black horse, and -tethered the beast in a cool place, and he himself lay down at hand for -a pipe and his thoughts. Presently a thread of smoke curled into the -hot air, driving away disappointed the flies which came in their hosts -a-visiting. - -It was pleasant work lying here in the shade with nothing to disturb a -fellow for an hour or two until the cattle came along, and the sunshine -heat finding a way into the shadow to make a man drowsy. It was good to -lie flat on one's back, blinking at the sunbeams through the leaves. It -was good, too, to suck at a pipe and watch the blue smoke go up. And -again it was good listening to the twitter of a few birds, and--opening -eyes--to see insects examining the ins and outs of the tree trunks. -It brought memories of other such lazy hours, snatched between a hard -morning and a hard afternoon. Give a man good health and work, and -there was little else he wanted to bring content. - -How the smell of the scrub lingered this morning. Ordinarily the sun -drove it early away. If he lived too long and became an old blind man, -he would get someone to lead him to a patch of scrub at early morning -that he might sharpen memory there. - -It must be hot in the open. The sunlight was burning him wherever a -break in the boughs let it through. He was a lucky chap to own this -great stretch of country, and every head of cattle on it, to have good -horses to ride, and to be his own master. No doubt there were unlucky -devils who never had these good things. A man knew little enough of -other men when all was said and done, and cared little enough for their -troubles either, if truth be told. - -Yet things were a shade out of tune to-day, pretend as he might; put -the feeling by as he would. Presently he sat up. With an oath, he -knocked out his empty pipe on a stone. He whipped himself for a fool. -He was a man with a mind of his own, he was in love with another woman; -and a girl twenty years old, who had not spoken a dozen words to him, -was taking up his thoughts all day. Ah! but she was the most perfect -thing he had known. - -The heat of the day came into the spot of his choosing, the sun climbed -into the sky, and he judged the hour towards noon. He rose to his feet, -pushed a handkerchief about his face, and grew busy gathering sticks on -a square of barren ground. - -There came through the timber, after many minutes, a far-off murmur, -such as might travel from a distant surge of the sea, or from a heavy -wind moving in a hollow. It was vague, and many would have been at -pains to pick it up; but the horse lifted ears to it, and Power came -out of his brown study. It arrived as a murmur; but the passing minutes -gave it volume. It was strangely exciting. Power knew it from the -beginning. It was the roar of a mob of cattle driven against their will. - -Presently the sound turned to broken bellowing, and into the tumult -entered the snapping of boughs, the bang of whips, and the fierce -voices of men. Power stood up. The mob must round the foot of a hill -before coming into view. He laid a hand on the horse's bridle and -waited for them. - -They came in a little while--one or two as a beginning, afterwards -the body of them. They dawdled forward, picking at the grass tufts, -horning one another, and lifting heads to bellow. They showed to the -eye a hardy, good-coloured mob of store cattle, the big part of them -six-year bullocks, more ready for a doze by a waterhole than for this -journey in the sun with men hanging at their houghs. They counted two -hundred maybe, and three white stockmen and a couple of blackfellows -handled them, turning them on the flanks, and hunting them forward in -the rear. They were a suspicion nervous, and gave Power a wide berth; -but the noon heat made them easy handling. By the time they were round -the foot of the hill, a stockman, pulling about his horse, rid himself -of their company and cantered across. The man pulled up a big chestnut -animal a few yards from Power, and showed a happy, handsome face under -a big brimmed hat. He was a good figure of a man, riding his horse with -a swagger. He had wide kneepads to his saddle, and long rusty spurs at -his heels, a shirt wide open at the neck, and in his hand a whip. His -skin was brown. Sitting there, he looked a hardy fellow, one to put a -good day's work behind him. - -He had pulled his horse up from the canter. "Day, Mr. Power." - -"Good day, Mick. They came along all right?" - -"Yes, boss. A strong lot. Good travellers. An' quiet enough too. We'll -make Morning Springs Wednesday certain." - -Power nodded his head. "Did you cut those few out?" - -"All bar a half-dozen. We can fix 'em at the camp to-night. There's -a roan bull to be dropped. I don't know how he came with this lot. I -didn't see him when we picked 'em up. He wants watching. He's cranky in -the head." So speaking, the man leaned over and pointed his whip at a -beast on the outside of the mob. "I suppose we're making camp here for -an hour or two." - -"My oath, yes. I'll get a fire going." - -Mick O'Neill turned his horse about and put it to the canter. Again he -made a figure becoming his name as the daddy stockman for a hundred -miles about. Power filled a quart pot at the water-bag, and built and -lit a fire. The flames rushed to embrace the hot wood. Others of the -company arrived with filled quart pots and pushed them into the flames. -The blackfellows held the cattle until they had drawn out and dropped -to their knees. The horses were unsaddled and unbitted. The quart pots -came from the fire. The tea was made. The sticks were trodden into the -sand, and the company took themselves into the shade, to sprawl there, -one eye waiting for the cattle, one hand waiting for the flies. - -They kept to camp through the heat of the day, and little was spoken -the while. They smoked and stared up through a lattice of leaves at -the lofty sky. The fierceness of the sun was spent when Power gave the -signal by sitting up. The horses were saddled, the men found their -seats--there was galloping of hoofs, a banging of whips, and the mob -flowed on the journey over the plain. - -It was half-past six in the evening and the sun was down on the western -sky, when the mob splashed into the shallows at the lower end of -Pelican Pool. Cleanskin Joe, the lean rusty cook, who had spent a busy -life darkening the doorways of most hotels in Queensland and New South -Wales, had arrived there early in the morning, steering a two-horse -buckboard loaded up with swags, camp furniture and tucker bags. -Cleanskin Joe had built his fireplace, had put his Johnnie-cake in the -ashes, had talked half the day with Jackie the black horse-tailer, -coming after him with spare horses. Now, with his stew simmering, he -cast a hundred glances into the distance for the tardy cattle. His -eyes, once quick to meet an emergency, were bleared a trifle from that -constant darkening of doors. But finally they and his ears could not be -deceived, and he peered into the camp oven and turned the contents with -a long-handled ladle. - -Now all the world knows that cooks from sheep stations give you grilled -chops and curry and stew the round of the year, and cooks on cattle -stations serve grilled steak and curry and stew until you turn aside in -sorrow; but Cleanskin Joe was a man of resource, and every breakfast he -chopped up rissoles, rolling them on the back of the buckboard where -had gathered the grime of ten years' honest service. Because of this, -and because too many whiskies had cured him of a love of water, either -for inside or outer use, he had won his name of Cleanskin Joe. - -He was a man of history. - -Once upon a time Cleanskin Joe and the Honourable So-and-so, both out -at elbows with the world just then, had found a copper show a round -forty miles from the nearest hotel. They woke up one morning on bowing -terms with wealth. They had broken a new lode going any percentage you -like of ore. They stared at it without a word to say. - -The Honourable So-and-so had a vision. He saw dogs and women and wine. - -And Cleanskin Joe saw the price of a whisky. - -And Mr. So-and-so saw horses and cards and more wine. - -And Cleanskin Joe saw the price of another whisky. - -And Mr. So-and-so saw freedom from the Jews, and green tables and yet -more wine. - -And Cleanskin Joe saw prices of endless whiskies. - -Then said Mr. So-and-so, "Our one chance, old man, is to miss the -hotel." Cleanskin Joe wagged his head. Said Mr. So-and-so, "We must cut -the waggon road to miss it by a dozen miles." - -They drove their road over rise and down dip, plying the tools with -right good will because of that vision. One night Mr. So-and-so would -say--"How about direction, dear fellow? Are we enough to the right?" -And next night it was Cleanskin Joe. "I reckon we're safe to miss that -blankey place now, holdin' left as we're doing." - -But who shall win when Fate plays hide-and-seek? On the hottest day of -the hottest summer in man's memory, they drove the road into a clearing -of the bush where the doors of the Drink-me-Dry Hotel leaned open to -meet them. - - . . . . . . . - -Cleanskin Joe blinked his eyes through the smoke when Power cantered -up. "Evening, boss. I was lookin' for yer an hour since. What time do -yer want tucker ready?" - -"Half an hour will finish us. There's a bit of cutting out to do. What -about a drop of tea?" - -"Right on the spot. Take care. It's durned hot." - -Power drank the tea, and urged his horse about. The bullocks straggled -from the pool where they had been drinking. Power had given orders to -keep the horses from water, and the cattle were rounded up on the way -from the shallows. - -Presently the mob was bunched. First there came a time of talking and -shaking of heads. At the end of it, Power and O'Neill worked a way into -the jumble of animals, looking this way and that for the half dozen -cows, and keeping a wide eye for accidents. The beasts gave them fair -roadway, backing over here and there with snorting and a sweep of the -head. "Here we are," Power said. - -He leaned a little forward and with a nice movement dropped his whip on -to the quarters of a red cow. On the instant the black horse answered -the signal. Power gave the reins to its neck and sat back with waiting -whip. Not far away O'Neill followed ready for what might come. The -black horse moved to the red cow's shoulder, and steered her with a -pretty cunning to the outside of the mob, nor lost place a single time, -though she twisted, turned and propped with skill. It was a game of -trick and shift to liven the eye of any man. She came presently to -the outermost circle, bellowing with nervousness and hurry. The black -horse was at her shoulder goading her farther into the open. She lost -her head and trotted a few paces from the mob, and that moment turned -the scales against her. As the black horse got into his stride, Power -let out his whip, and O'Neill came up behind with a hurry of hoofs. -They fell upon her with a scramble of blows. She bellowed, threw up her -head, tried to swing back to the mob, slipped, heard the bang of whips -about her ears, and took to her heels across the plain, with both men -at her tail. She showed them her heels for a quarter of a mile. "She's -right!" Power cried out. - -The last of the cows was cut out as dusk began to settle. There -remained only a few minutes to dark. "There's that bull yet," Power -said. He sat on a heaving horse, and lifted his hat from his head. The -men pushed a passage into the mob again. The herd was showing rather -nervous, and took handling to hold together. The roan bull met their -coming with a bellow and a shake of the head. But the black horse stood -to his shoulder, and the journey to the outside began. All the way the -bull showed little liking for the hustling, but his efforts to trick -the enemy availed him nothing, and he found himself of a sudden on -the outside of the mob, and a black horse urging him farther into the -open. In a flash he turned very ugly. It was the turn of a hair whether -he rushed or not. There was no waiting to add up chances, a wasted -moment meant his loss into the mob. Power brought his whip down, and -a long broad mark curled up in the smoking hair. The bull roared and -dropped his head. He was coming this time with no two meanings. Power -swept up the reins to pull the horse aside. Ill luck was at his back. -He found himself jammed in a press of cattle. He shook his feet clear -of the stirrups. He made ready with the whip again. He cut into the -bull again, and he felt the horse go beneath him, and himself falling -back into a huddle of bellowing beasts. With all his might he pulled -the horse clear of the horns. Horse and bull and he came down in a -scurry on the ground. He rolled clear of the saddle. He scrambled on to -a knee. He spat the dust from his mouth. And then the mob at his back -split, and O'Neill rode up in a fury, a whip waiting in his hand. The -bull was on its knees, jerking to its feet. A hurry of blows fell about -its face. It stumbled, slipped, and sprawled on its back. The whip -stopped falling, and a man jumped from his horse to the ground. With -great quickness he caught up the bull's tail, and thrust a foot into -a hollow of its hip. Thus he held it on the ground without any great -effort. There was shouting as the men called to each other. - -"Are yer orl right?" - -"Think so." - -"Can you get clear?" - -"Aye!" - -On the words followed a scramble of hoofs and a heave as the black -horse gained his haunches. Power was on his feet, and had thrown a leg -across the saddle. Another scramble, another heave gave the horse its -legs and Power a seat a-top of it. Power swung it to one hand with rein -and spurs, and leant far from the saddle towards the horse standing by. -"Let go when you can!" he cried out. "I have your horse!" - -The man on the ground sprang clear of the bull. He clapped both hands -on the arch of the saddle, and vaulted into the seat. Shaken, and -with lost breath, the bull found its feet, but it had not thrown the -sweat from its eyes before the whips fell on it with a cruel fury. Its -courage was no more. It took to its heels across the plain. - -"Close go that," O'Neill said. "Are you hurt any?" - -"No, I fell clear. You got me out of a hole. I'll do as much for you -some day." - -"All in a day's work," O'Neill said. "'Struth! I reckon it's time for a -pipe." - -Quite suddenly the night stepped into the shoes of day. Darkness -arrived in a hurry, and the stars pushed themselves out of the sky. -The camp was chosen, the first watch was set. The horses, hobbled and -with bells about their necks, moved musically into the shadows, the -little company found the way to the cook's fire. There was stew in the -camp oven, and a ladle at hand. A pile of tin dishes was on the ground. -The Johnnie-cake waited on a box, and the earth lay spread for a -table. There is many a worse roof than the sky offers, and many a more -restless bed than a mattress of grasses. - -Supper ended, and there came the hour when pipes are pulled out. Power -went out of the firelight presently, and listened to the mob getting -to camp for the night. There was a little bellowing from over there, -and now and then sounds of scurry, but nothing to cause unquiet. He -came back to O'Neill. "I'm going across to Gregory's for a while," he -said. "He was talking about a copper show of his. I'll be back for my -watch. I don't think you will have any trouble. Good night." He thought -O'Neill looked up over-quickly. "I don't think you will have any -trouble," he repeated. "Would you sooner I stayed? I will if you like." - -"There's no need, boss," said the other indifferently. "I didn't know -you knew them over there." The man began whistling. - -"So long, then." - -"So long, boss." - - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE HUT BY PELICAN POOL - - -Power picked up his whip by way of company, and took the road to the -camp. The journey was done in ten minutes' time. The moon had not -risen, and he found the place in darkness, and from somewhere at hand -came the sudden bark of the dog. The tents were empty, but the hessian -building--a shabby affair--showed lamplight through half-a-dozen holes, -and sounds of movement came from inside. The gouger called out roughly -to the dog, but the brute barked on at full voice, backing away into -the shadows. Power brought his whip-handle down on the door-post. The -doorway was empty of a door, and he looked into a room lit by a couple -of lanterns. He had time to see a table and seats, knocked together -haphazard, and a woman of middle life bending over a basin at the -farther end. Then the opening was filled by the gouger, who peered out -into the dark. - -"Good evening," Power said. - -"Same to you," said the gouger. And he added with a wrinkling up of -his eyes--"I can't see more than half way through a brick wall in this -durned light. Anything up?" - -"I'm camping on the Pool to-night. You told me to take a look at your -show when I was round. I've come along on the chance. Maybe I've turned -up at an off time. In that case it's my own funeral, that's all. -Couldn't get away before." - -"So that's the lay. You're right enough. I'll fix you in a shake. It's -five minutes through the scrub. I can pick yer up a specimen or two -what's lying round about the shanty, if the women have let 'em be. But, -but"----the gouger began to lose his words and screw his mouth up and -finger his beard----. "Strike me," he said. "Strike me if I know you." - -The woman had left her work, and now peered over his shoulder. She -nudged him. "Yes, yer do, boss," she said in a heavy whisper. "It's Mr. -Power, of Kaloona--him as brought yer back last night." - -"You aren't getting at me?" said he of the beard in an aside. - -"Aw!" - -Then Gregory, the gouger, turned very friendly. - -"Mr. Power it is," he cried out, rolling the upper half of his body, -and showing his dirty teeth. "It's Mr. Power come for a look at the -show. My eyes haven't got the hang o' the dark yet. Come inside, Mr. -Power. I'm glad you found the way here, square and all I am." - -With something of a to-do the couple backed from the doorway, and Power -went into the room. Two lamps, placed high up, gave the light, which -was poor and depressing, and round about the globes beat frantically a -great army of insects. Power went into the room, and the close air made -him pause. He stopped to blink his eyes at the light. A moment later he -looked up, and across the table, busy at some cups in a basin, he saw -the girl he had dreamed of half the day. - -The wonder of her beauty came over him again with a feeling akin to -pain. She was looking him in the face with frank curiosity. He it was -who felt embarrassed and first turned away. He laughed at his scruples -next moment, and returned her stare for stare. He looked her over -slowly to discover her secret. And he succeeded ill. For her loveliness -was anchored to no this or that. She stood in the shabby room, a jewel -of such price as asked no setting. Her beauty would never stale, having -found the secret of the dawn which arrives morning by morning, ready -and wonderful, though all else is passing by in the turning of the -years. The men, who presently would come to kneel in homage there, -would wonder at this glorious body no less the last hour than the first. - -Her hair was brown and shining, and heaped up about her head. Her eyes -were of a dark colour, of great size, and moment by moment sleepy with -dreams or bright with brief fires. Her mouth was heavy with passion -and gaoler of a thousand quick moods; her lips were bright, and behind -them little teeth gleamed white and charming. Her dress was open at the -neck, where her firm throat swept to her bosom. Her arms, bare to the -elbows, had taken their brown from the sun, but their shapeliness was a -wonder and delight. Her hands were slender and quick as they moved in -the water. What age was she? Twenty, it might be. - -"Good evening, Mister," she said. - -"Good evening," he answered. - -Gregory and his wife were hovering at his back. It was "Sit down, Mr. -Power," and "Make yerself at home, Mr. Power. I wish we had a better -seat for you, Mr. Power; but we haven't been here above two week, and -the boss isn't for doing more graft than he need." - -"It's that show, as I've told the old gel. It tires a bloke out," said -Gregory. The woman answered him with a curl of the lip. - -Power sat down on an up-ended box. He could put his elbow on the -table, which had been knocked together slap-dash with a few nails. -After further to-do Gregory sat at hand with a pipe in his mouth. The -women started again on their business. In the pause in matters which -came on this sitting down Power felt the staleness of the room. He had -time to wonder why he had come. He took a second look at Mrs. Gregory. -She showed the ruins of good looks which the climate and hard living -had squandered. Her face was full of greed and craft. The man at his -side was a mixture of rogue and fool. Power had given up a smoke and a -yarn in the cool for this. For he didn't care the crack of a whip for -the show. His line was cattle, not copper. Then the girl had brought -him here. And to-morrow he was to see the girl he loved. He was a fool -for his pains. - -He was a fool for his pains, yet he would not have been more content -staying away. Something drew him here by roots deep down in him. How -her beauty moved him! Here stood a savage child, with her longings -crudely waiting on her lips, possessed of a body which was holy. Why -was she here, growing up alone and unwatched, to age before her time? -It was the law that painted the wings of the butterfly and brought the -cripple into the world; the law, jumbled beyond man's following, that -caused suns to blaze and worlds to groan in labour that meanest gnat -might spin a giddy hour. - -He must pull himself together. - -"That was your mob on the road this afternoon, I reckon?" the woman -asked, looking up of a sudden. - -"Yes, we came from the Ten Mile." - -"A handy lot," Gregory said, wagging his head, and spitting with a -pretty skill through the doorway. - -"Do you reckon to be long on the road with them?" the woman asked once -more. - -"I'm travelling to Morning Springs. We ought to be back inside the -week." - -The washing had come to an end. The girl collected the clean crockery -and grew busy at a shelf. The woman threw the water outside the door, -and dried her hands on a rag. "You come for a look at the boss's show?" -she said as she finished. - -"Yes, I heard one or two speaking of it, and thought I might come -along." - -"Do you do anything in the copper way?" - -"I've an interest in a show or two. I don't go much on it." - -"The boss's show looks A1. One of the Surprise men was down for a look -round in the morning." - -"Ah, who was that?" - -"Mr. ---- Moll, what's his name?" - -"Mr. King," said the girl. - -"And what did King say about it?" - -"He talked big enough," Gregory put in. "But he seemed as interested in -the gel there. He said he might be along agen." - -"Dad, yer tongue's too big for yer mouth." - -"Well, he seemed uncommon shook on yer. I reckon he thought yer show -better than my show. A-haw, haw, haw! A-haw, haw, he-haw!" - -"Mr. King is a pleasant-spoken gentleman," Mrs. Gregory said. - -"And," said Gregory, "I'd have thought him pleasanter if he had come to -a bargain." - -The girl, Moll Gregory, came back from the shelf. She put both hands -upon the table, and bent a little over it. Her great eyes looked into -Power's face. "Do you know Mr. King?" she said. - -"I often run across him." - -"Wot is he like?" - -"King's a good fellow." - -"He says funny things." - -"What did he say?" - -"Oh, he looked at me, you know, like men look when they're after a -lark, and he says: 'I came to look at copper and I found gold.' I -couldn't take up his meaning quite, but I guessed he was trying to fool -me." - -The woman interrupted. "Maybe you're thinking of making an offer for -the show?" - -"Don't rush him, old woman. Maybe I'll hang on to it." - -"No, yer won't. You'll sell out and clear from the game. I want to see -some life. I'm tired of these dull holes, I am. You'll fool the thing -up and get took down, as you've been a dozen times." - -Something in this sentence put Gregory on a new turn of thought, for -he put his pipe on the table, clawed his beard a moment, and got up. -"D'yer know anything of wire strainers?" He began to hunt in a corner -and brought out parts of a clumsy machine, together with a tangle of -wire. The woman flew at him. - -"If you'd give by that foolery and do a bit of shovelling we might be -better off. Who wants a wire strainer where there isn't a fence for two -hundred mile? You make me sick, yer do." - -"Steady on, mother." Gregory fell into explanation, and in time brought -out a potato digger of his invention, and illustrated that fortune -was but a stay-away. Mrs. Gregory gave over talk, and drew an ancient -illustrated paper from somewhere, and sat down to turn the leaves. The -girl employed herself with one thing and another, going in and out -of the doorway, and seeming intent on her business; but Power knew -she watched him, and he himself missed nothing she did. Her beauty -was beyond the telling. Whether she walked, whether she sat, whether -she stood a moment by the doorway peering into the night, she was so -wonderful that nothing else was worth the looking. - -What was happening to him to-night! - -At last Gregory was persuaded to put his inventions back in their -corner and light lanterns. "You'd better come along, gel," he said. "We -may want you to hold a light." He and Moll Gregory and Power set out, -and Power came to remember the journey as many pictures of one girl who -passed from light into shadow and from shadow into light. She strode -beside him with the free walk of a goddess. They arrived at the shaft, -and she stood over the black mouth, holding a lantern to guide the -downward clamber. From his station at the bottom, Power saw her bending -overhead, with one hand on the windlass for support, and the stars of -the sky gathered together for background. He looked here and there at -the broken earth as Gregory bade him, and the dull green of the copper -appeared in abundance. It was dirty work and hot, with ever a trickle -of dirt down the back of the neck, and he wished himself well up at the -top again. They had climbed up presently, and very soon had made the -road home. The close air of the hut gave them ill greeting. Gregory put -down the lantern noisily on the table, blew a big breath out of his -mouth, and ran a finger round the neck of his shirt. - -"This weather's no good for climbing about in," he said. - -The woman looked up from her paper with a keen face. "Wot did you think -of the show, Mr. Power?" - -"I don't know much about that sort of thing, Mrs. Gregory. It looks -thundering good." - -Gregory began to think. "There's specimens about the place," he said, -"but durn me if I know where to come on them." - -"You left two or three by the pool, Dad." - -"Could you find 'em?" - -"Maybe." - -"Have a look then, gel." - -"It doesn't matter," Power said. - -"It will be no worry." Moll Gregory picked up the lantern and was going -out of the door. Power crossed the room of a sudden. - -"I'll come with you. It will save bringing them back." - -"Orl right, Mr. Power." - -They went out into the dark. The moon would rise in a few minutes; but -now the night was dark and still and close. The sky was filled with -stars shining with the fierce heat of the tropics. The Southern Cross -lay against the horizon; but in the North, Orion was climbing up, and -the Scorpion curled his tail in the middle of the sky. The dog shuffled -from the shadows after them, and very soon man and girl had passed -between the trees by the bank of the waterhole. They were walking side -by side, the girl bearing the lantern, and it was as they came upon the -bank that Moll Gregory broke silence. - -"It was round here," she said, pausing to take bearing. "Dad left them -one day when he couldn't be bothered taking them home." - -She put the lantern this way and that, and they made careful search. -But their trouble was empty of profit. - -"This is where they was," she said. "Maybe Mr. King lifted them. -There's been no one else this way." - -"It doesn't matter," Power answered. "The show was good enough." - -They were looking into the Pool, which the gloom made mysterious and of -great size. The water was fretted with the images of stars. Big moths -came out of the dark to beat against the lantern. Power spoke because -it was impossible to stand there without a reason. - -"A grand place this." - -"It isn't so bad. Bit slow after Mount Milton." - -"Do you want people?" - -"I'm not particular; but a gel wants a bit of life sometimes. It's -terrible weary of a time without a sight of anyone new. Sometimes I'm -fair spoiling for a bit of fun." - -"What do you do with yourself? Do you read?" - -"I'm no great hand at learning. I got no schoolin'." - -"Never been to school?" - -"No, we always lived out back where there was none. I've not been -christened neither. Never saw a church for that matter. There was a -parson what came round our parts once with a pack-'orse. I fair scared -him out of his life when I let on about it. He was for fixing me -straight then." - -"Why didn't you let him?" - -"Something happened. I forget." - -There came a space of silence. She lifted her great eyes. "Yes, I'm -spoiling for a bit of life. I'm sick of seeing nothing. I reckon maybe -you've moved about, Mister?" - -"I travelled a bit." - -"That Mr. King, he's been about a bit." - -"Did he say so?" - -"Yes, he said--aw, it doesn't matter what he said. It was something -stupid." - -"What was it?" - -"Aw----" - -"Tell me." - -"Aw, he only said as he'd been all over the world, but hadn't met a gel -to equal me. He said all the silks and satins in the world would never -do me proper. He said as he'd be back in a day or two. Do you reckon -he'll come?" - -It was Power who was put out of countenance. He said after a -moment--"D'you want him to come?" - -"I won't be worried if he do. He knows how to talk a gel round." - -The moon began to rise. As it left the horizon it was as large as a -cartwheel and as rich as a copper platter. Its light began to find -a way into many places. The waters of the Pool grew very fair. But -nothing in that prospect was fair as the girl at Power's side. - -Who knows what thoughts just then came knocking at the doors of his -brain? Truth to tell he fell to frowning and nursing his lower lip. The -girl was impatient before he came out of his brown study. - -"I have to get back," he said. "The moon is up. I am taking next watch." - -"Mick O'Neill is with you, isn't he?" - -"He is in charge now. I relieve him. D'you know him?" - -"He's often this way." - -They were on the way back to the hut. "Is he interested in copper, too?" - -The girl looked up in a puzzled way. - -"Well, copper or no copper," Power said of a sudden, "you've a straight -man there. I don't know any better one. That's about it." - -He fell into thought again, walking at no great pace with eyes upon the -ground. His preoccupation brought a pout to the girl's lips. She said: -"You're to be a week on the road, aren't you?" - -"That's about it." - -"Will you be seeing us agen?" - -"Would you like me to?" - -"I reckon dad likes a yarn of a night." - -"And what about yourself?" - -"Aw, yes." Saying this she looked up and laughed. - -"Listen, girl, here's the camp. Stand still. King told you he had never -met a girl to equal you. I can tell you more than that. I can tell you -that no queen with her crown on her head and her throne underneath her -ever held the power you hold. You can make the wise man foolish, and -fill the fool with learning. You can take the clean man to the mire, -and cause the dirty man to wash his hands. Ah, girl! don't listen." - -"Aw, get out," she said. - -"Back agen." Gregory called out, pushing his bunch of dirty beard out -at the door. "Did you tumble on them?" - -"No luck," Power said. "It's no matter. There isn't any doubt about the -show. I'm back to say good night. I've my watch to stand over there." - -"Won't you have a cup of tea," said the woman, coming to the door. - -"Not this time; I can't wait. I'm sorry." - -"Ye'll be back sometime?" - -"Yes, I'll look you up in a few days. Maybe you'll have opened up the -show a bit by then. Well, good night." - -"Good night, Mr. Power." - -"Good night, Mr. Power." - -"So long, Mister." - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -THE COACH COMES TO SURPRISE - - -Next day Power kept his promise, and rode into Surprise as soon as he -could. He let go the horse in a yard, and tramped the stony stretch -which lies before the house. Outside the accountant's office he came -across Mr. Neville and Maud. He heard Maud's cry, "Well done, Jim," and -the old man waved a stick in the act of pouncing on a passer by. Maud -came up in great glee. - -"How quick you've been. I was not expecting you till sunset." - -"I've had good luck. They're a strong lot. Mick O'Neill is taking them -to the hollow. You must ride out with me to-night for a look at them." - -"But I can't, Jim. And I'd love to. These wretched people come to-day. -Don't you remember? I can't leave them to father the first night." - -"I forgot them. Hang it! that settles it, I suppose." - -"We're on the way to meet the coach now. Come along. You have nothing -else to do, have you?" - -"I'll come, of course. You ought to pull that hat down, girl. Your face -is getting burnt to bits." - -"You said you liked me brown." - -Old Neville was hard engaged with the passer by. The two people heard -his harangue, and saw him blowing cigar smoke in a hurry. Soon he drove -the enemy through the office door, pursuing him hard in retreat. At -once Maud went close to Power. - -"Jim," she said, "I've been so nice to father all day. He is splendid -just now. As soon as you get him alone, ask him about our marriage. -He'll be reasonable this time, I know. I'll find you a chance. Why, -Jim, what's the matter to-day?" - -"Matter with me?" - -"Yes, you're down on your luck, aren't you?" - -"You are always thinking something, Maud." - -The thread of talk was broken, and they wandered into the office with -nothing to say. It was built of iron sheets, held together with wooden -beams. Frequent ledgers and other dreary volumes took their rest upon -the tables, and files of ageing papers dangled by strings along the -walls. The dust of spent willy-willys had found the upper shelves, -and many an industrious fly had left a lifetime's labour on ceiling -and woodwork. The corpulent cockroach walked here after the heat of -the day, and the spider spread his net in the loftier corners. For at -Surprise a happy line is drawn between the must-be and the need-not, -and the word "broom" is not used among the best people. - -The place was full of a sickly heat, but the day was Saturday, and -King only had stayed behind. They found him writing at the lower end. -Half-way down Neville had secured his victim between a table and a -chair. The person in this unhappy case was an elderly man of a very -broken appearance. He might have been a gentleman a long time ago. His -hair was grey, but a moustache of any colour you please drooped over -his mouth. His eyes were pale blue, with a blink, and his chin grew -a day-old stubble of beard. He wore round his neck a collar of many -washings and a doubtful ironing, and a tie in a limp old age. He wore -no coat, which is the summer fashion; his trousers were of khaki stuff -and wrinkled meekly at his boots. The toes of his boots leaned up in -search of something kinder than the stones. On the little finger of -his left hand showed the signet ring of the house of Horrington, of -Such-and-such Hall, England. - -Prosperity and Mr. Horrington were coldly acquainted. Horrington was an -idealist among men. Some pass their days mapping out new continents, -others knit their brows over the printing press and the steam engine. -Horrington had resolved on reading the riddle of how to build a fortune -within call of a hotel and without hard work. He had met with poor -success. He had eschewed hard work, and he had lived within reach of -a hotel; but prosperity had shrugged shoulders at him. Devotion to an -idea had lost him the affection of his cousin, Sir John; had found him -a passage to Australia; had drifted him presently from town to bush. -Unable to contend singly with ill-fortune, he had married a faded -woman, who took him and his burdens, no one knew why. Mrs. Horrington -painted a little, sang a little, worked her needle a little, played -the piano a little--and these arts she taught the daughters of those -parents who are not exacting if terms be cheap. So Horrington had kept -constant to his idea. But the lean times had brought the pair to an -alien land. For at Surprise they paint only when a new coat is due to -the poppet-legs, and only ply the needle should a wall need repair. At -Surprise the mouth-organ and the concertina soothe the ache for higher -things. - -The old man came to an end of his breath. - -"Sir," Mr. Horrington began with a certain dignity. "You will own I -have heard you with patience." - -"Eh?" the old man grunted. - -"And I repeat I have every right to complain on finding myself put on a -beggarly allowance of water at a moment's notice." - -"We may be doing a perish before the rains come." - -"Why, Good Lord! sir, what's a kerosene tin of water to a family? My -wife is not a strong woman, and like all women in poor health, she's -ready to blame others for her shortcomings. She has it at the back of -her mind that I make a difficulty carrying the water; though, Good -Lord! I've scraped my shins often enough on the tins. When I turned -up with a single bucket this morning, and the goat had to go short, -she put the blame at once on me. She wouldn't listen until she saw for -herself the tanks were locked. Then home she went to throw herself on -the bed. 'Never enough wood chopped to light a fire, now no water to -wash with, not a soul to speak to, never anything to look at'--that's -what I listened to until I left the place." - -"Where did ye go to?" - -"I had an appointment." - -"Near the hotel, I reckon." - -"Your joke, sir, could be in better taste. I had business with one of -the shift bosses." - -"At the hotel?" - -"We did happen to meet at the hotel." - -"He, he!" - -"Because I have been unfortunate, sir, I think there is no need for -rudeness. In a politer country, where I have ridden my twice or three -times weekly to my cousin's hounds, I----" - -The old man broke up the audience with a flourish of his stick. - -King left his work when Maud and Power arrived. "Oh, Jim, I've -just remembered." Maud called out. "Mr. King was down at the river -yesterday, and saw the pretty girl. You know whom I mean? Mr. King -hasn't been the same since. None of his balances came right this -morning. He said she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen. Didn't -you, Mr. King?" - -"I expect so." - -"Jim, you must see her, just to tell me it's true what they say. Would -you think her the loveliest thing in the world?" - -"I don't know." - -"Don't look so glum over it. Will you go and see her?" - -"I have seen her." - -"You? When?" - -"On the way home when I left you last time." - -"Why didn't you tell me?" - -"I didn't think of it." - -"You stupid! And what was she like?" - -"Like? Oh, she was very pretty." - -"Is that all you can say? Tell me about her. What was she doing?" - -"Doing? I don't know what she was doing. She had a lantern in her hand." - -"You want shaking, Jim! Mr. King told me much more. Didn't you look at -her? Mr. King said a hundred shadows were at hide-and-seek in her hair, -and when he came to talk about her eyes, he sat down--the words in his -mouth stopped his tongue moving." - -"Perhaps that is why Power says nothing now," King said. - -"I hope not," Maud cried quickly. And she fell to teasing. "No, poor -old Jim was thinking of his bullocks when he saw her." - -"What should I have thought about, the cattle or Moll Gregory?" - -"Neither. You should have been thinking of me. I see you know her name." - -"Yes, I've learned that." - -King shut up the ledger with a bang. "That's enough for Saturday. -What's next? A smoke, a drink or the coach? I vote a drink." - -"I vote the coach," Maud cried. - -"Here's a cigarette," said Power. "You must find it hot here of an -afternoon." - -"I do. The sun gets round on to the wall, and I feel as charitable as a -woman with an empty woodbox." - -"You ought to give up this uncomfortable bachelor life, Mr. King," said -Maud. "You ought to go down South and marry some nice girl." - -"Alas! my purse is not as full as once it was. A fool and his money are -soon parted, they say. I should have to marry a girl with money, and a -girl and her money are equally soon married--by someone else." - -Neville came up behind. "How ye do chatter, Maud. We'd better get along -to that coach. Who's coming? King, ye had better come along." He jerked -his head over his shoulder. "Hey, Horrington, ye can tell your wife -she can have what water she wants and I'll be by to see you carry it." -Marching four abreast, they passed out of the office. - -Surprise is not a beautiful place. The hills holding it are the -greenest in that country, and lean up and down in gentle curves. But -the bottom of the basin has grown shabby with much use. Patches of -sand cover it, in company with clumps of spinifex put out of repair by -disillusioned goats. The tents and humpies of the camp rise up on this -in seedy and unordered rank, and low-born fowls doze at the doorways. -In the middle of the congregation stands one building somewhat more -gracious. A glittering roof protects it, and there is paint upon the -walls. Above the doorway runs the legend--Surprise Valley Hotel. - -On Saturday afternoon they keep holiday at Surprise. It is then the -butcher kills for the second time in the week, and Mrs. Bloxham, Mrs. -Johnson and Mrs. Niven meet at his lean-to for Sunday's dinner and a -half-hour gossip. They find talk until the coach arrives. About the -same time, Bloxham, Johnson and Niven put an eye to their premises, -pulling together a hole in the wall here, a slit in the roof there. -They, in due course, turn steps to the hotel for the coming of the -coach. At four o'clock, about that place, you find all the best people -of Surprise. - -The party from the office took the direction of the hotel. Old Neville -with a great play of his stick held the lead. He kept the talk his way. -Said he: "I can't make out what this fellow is coming for. Bringing his -wife, too. She'd as well been left behind. He wrote something about -coming for a holiday, being in poor health or something. It beats me -what he thinks to find here. He'll be leavin' by the first coach, I -reckon. I shan't mind. I've too much on hand to be trotting round with -beef tea. Maud will have to see to them." - -"Selwyn is the name, isn't it?" Power said. - -The old man nodded his head. "Huh, huh! There was an assayer of that -name here once three or four year back. There was no houses then; -didn't scarce run a tent, and he and me and a couple of other fellows -was camped where the stable is. He had some damned silver thing -something like a flute, and one night a feller out of pity asked him to -play it. It was the horriblest row ever you heard. The chap that asked -him made some excuse and went so far away he nearly got bushed. He went -on playing till near midnight, I reckon. When we were all asleep the -damned row woke us up again. I sits up and lets fly in a great rage: -'For God's sake, man,' I said, 'a fair thing is a fair thing. We've -listened to you half the damned night already. D'ye think,' says I--and -then I see all of a sudden it was the dingoes howling. He, he! Huh, -huh, huh!" - -"Father, you put a bit to that story every time." - -"And it's not everyone knows how to do that, my girl." - -"Hullo, here's a new place," Power said. "You've grown it since last -week." - -"Smith, the schoolmaster," answered the old man with a jerk of the -head. "He's doing his week here. I mean to catch him home if I can. I'm -the man for a gentleman that lets his horse into my feed-room." - -"Let him alone, father. He is hunted enough without you. You must have -seen him, Jim. He's the man that looks as though something is just -about to happen. He's married to a book and never gets past the first -chapter. We ought to be sorry for him. He's meant for a town. I don't -know what brought him here. Let's be romantic. Perhaps he loved some -girl and lost her." - -"In that case," King said, "I'll keep my sympathy. There are enough -mourners for the man who has loved some woman and lost her. My heart -goes out to the man who has loved some woman and can't lose her." - -"Huh, huh!" cried the old man from the lead. "Ye needn't pity him, -Maud. He has some woman to follow him round." - -They had come to a couple of tents standing solitary. Neville rattled -in the doorway of the first with his stick. "Hey, there, who's home?" -The tent door was open for the world to look inside. At a table, -consisting of a large board placed on a couple of travelling bags, Mr. -Smith sat writing. An armful of books was at his elbow, and a litter -of papers had tumbled round his heels. He was a man of fair complexion, -going early bald on top. He sighed with great melancholy when the knock -came, and put a hand to his forehead. On top of this he conjured up a -mechanical smile and rose to his feet. - -"You, Mr. Neville? Turned hot, hasn't it? Can I do anything?" - -"I suppose ye know your horse had its head into my chaff half the -morning? The last ton ran me up eighteen shilling a bag." - -Mr. Smith shut his eyes. "I've driven it over the other way twice this -afternoon," he said. "I sat down five minutes ago." - -"I'm talking of the morning." - -"I was at school then." - -"That don't put my chaff in the bag." - -Maud came to the front. "That's enough, father. I hope the horse had a -good dinner. It does the Company good to give away a little chaff. How -is the book getting on?" - -Mr. Smith shook his head. "According to the time-table the third -chapter would have been finished this week, but everything is turning -out against it. I am afraid this life isn't conducive to study, and my -unfortunate poverty precludes me from obtaining the necessary reference -books. Directly I sit down, there's the dog to put out, or the cat to -put in, and, honestly, as my name is Pericles Smith----" - -"Perry!" a woman's voice called from somewhere, "there's a wretched -goat at the flour." - -"Instantly, darling." Mr. Smith closed his eyes. "I live in the hope of -getting an hour to myself one day; but for ten years----" - -"Perry, there's another goat joining it." - -"At once, dear. I suppose I shall write the words 'Chapter Four' some -day, but----" - -"Well, I'm not going to stay here while you chatter any longer," -interrupted the old man, moving off, "and you, Smith, you look after -that horse of yours or ye'll find yourself reading a pretty long bill." - -They came away with Smith still in the doorway. - -"I wish he wouldn't make me laugh. I am so sorry for him," said Maud. - -King made answer. "It's not the best of lives this, packing up for -somewhere at the end of every week, knowing the sun will be at the back -of your neck all day, and a dozen wild children wait at the journey-end -for the ABC to be knocked into their heads. I am content to stay plain -John King." - -"A man can say he has put a good day's work behind him," Power said, -"and that's as well. It helps to pull his thoughts straight at night." - -"Jim, you are taking life so heavily to-day. I had to cheer up Mr. King -this morning because he looked too long at the pretty girl. Now you -have caught the blues somewhere." - -The butcher's shop stands on this side of the hotel, and on Tuesday -and Saturday the butcher stands behind his block, and chops your fate -up with the meat. Mrs. Niven, Mrs. Boulder and Mrs. Bullock grow very -humble when they go a-shopping. It is "Mr. Simpson, and how's the heat -been using yer, and is there any chance of a bit o' the silverside this -time?" And "Mr. Simpson, and I suppose the flies is worrying yer a -treat, and I take it it's my turn for the undercut." And Simpson, with -a to-do of knife and steel makes answer. "Now, I'm givin' wot there -is, and I'm not givin' nothing else, and if yer aren't satisfied, yer -can go elsewhere. I reckon the next butcher isn't farther than Mount -Milton, and I reckon Mount Milton isn't more than seventy mile." - -"Aw, you are gettin' at us, Mr. Simpson," comes the timid chorus. - -The bakery stands between the butcher's and the hotel, presenting -itself to the world as a building of wood and bagging of a very -cutthroat appearance. Mr. Regan, baker, being a man of parts, turns a -pleasant sovereign or two in the little "Crown and Anchor" saloon at -the back. A couple of nights a week the policeman looks in to run the -bank for an hour or so. It's "Now don't stand feeling yer corns there -as though yer ole woman was watching. Choose yer crown, and pick yer -anchor. The dice aren't loaded more than my old grandad's gun was, and -I never see him try to blow to bits anything stronger than his nose. -Come on, gents, every throw a crown, and every chuck an anchor. An' -don't forget time's flying, as the monkey said when he 'eaved the clock -through the winder." - -They took their stand under the hotel verandah. In twos and threes -Surprise strolled to the meeting ground. Neville waved his stick -a dozen times and grunted a how-de-do and shouted. Mr. Horrington -appeared presently, and later disappeared; and others of note swelled -the congregation. In a doorway loitered Barcoo Bill, as graceful a hand -at duffing a horse as you might find this side of the border. Into -stout argument had fallen one-eyed Sal, who, armed with a crowbar, and -fortified with a bottle of Dewar's best, had once upon a time defeated -the only policeman in a single round go-as-you-please affair. In a -patch of shade kicked his heels Iron-jawed Dick, who, for the price -of a drink, had lifted in his teeth a table laid for dinner. Other -people--tall and short, lean and stout--took their stand up and down -the way, and kept ever the tail of an eye on the horizon. Dusty curs -mooched about, and sat down suddenly to beat their stomachs with a -back leg. At half the posts were hitched high-rumped horses with rusty -saddles a-top of them. - -The walk in the sun had left King a good deal the worse for wear. He -pulled forth a handkerchief and pushed it about his face. "If," said -he, making an end, "things are ordered properly in the world to come, -we shall have a special heaven to ourselves. There the sun will totter -through the sky in a mild old age, the rivers will run water, the goats -will come home to be milked, and the woodbox will never empty. And -an angel will wait at the gates holding out a flypaper in place of a -flaming sword." - -"Hey?" cried the old man in a sudden excitement. He was beating his -stick at the distance. - - . . . . . . . - -The five goose-rumped horses, in a lather of sweat, and chastened with -a great following of flies and dust clouds, had lumbered the coach to -the top of the last rise, and the first tents of Surprise, and the -poppet heads of the mine were marching into view, as Mrs. Selwyn stated -for the third time on the journey that she did not know whether she -was on her crown or her toes. From the box seat, Joe Gantley, mailman, -steered his team with bored fingers, jerking his head to the right -now and then to clear his throat, and spitting the flies from his lips -on occasion in an every-day sort of way. Selwyn and Mrs. Selwyn were -packed beside him, where the sun leaned down, the dust climbed up, and -there was perpetual prospect of heaving flanks and clicking hoofs. - -Mrs. Selwyn had come to the struggle in a dust coat and a veil of many -folds; and in face of a hundred difficulties that massive woman had -lost no jot of dignity, remaining to the end a most inspiring spectacle. - -Selwyn had made the best of a bad place at the end of the row. By a -judicious play of elbow and hip he had widened his share of matters, -and now could lean a little easier and find a bit of support for the -hollow of his back. He had grown shabby from the funnel of dust rising -from the top of the wheel, but he was not a man to be put about by -small matters, as he was always very ready to let you know. - -Hilton Selwyn, a director of the Surprise Copper Mining Company, and -gentleman of no other special business, was at this time between fifty -and fifty-five, but lean and active in spite of middle age. Cleancut -in feature, upright in carriage, he suggested the military man, and -his youthful step would have passed him as any age. It was only on -discovery of the thinned grey hair and close-clipped tobacco-stained -moustache that one understood half a century had gone over his head. - -Half a century had gone over his head and health had become -treacherous. He could crawl through a swamp at dawn on the chance of -an odd teal, and come home to a thumping breakfast; but two minutes -weeding in the garden brought on sciatica. Similarly he could stand -all day in a drizzle of rain persuading a trout to rise, and more than -one biting July breakfast-time had found him half naked worming a way -across the lawn of his country place to a flock of pigeon feeding in -the timber; but indoors his only seat was right over the fire, where he -took the warmth from everybody--as Mrs. Selwyn was often good enough to -tell him. - -It was to get himself into better fettle that he sought the present -change of scene. He woke up one evening of last winter from his -after-dinner sleep in the best arm-chair. The waking up was a delicate -matter. He gave two long drawn-out yawns. He shot a fist into the air -and stretched slowly, rolled himself into a sitting position, blinked -once or twice, screwed up his face as though he had a bad taste in the -mouth, caught hold of the mantelpiece and pulled himself on to his -legs. He rocked about a little, screwed up his face again, and at last -quite woke up. His hair was like a storm at sea, his tie was crooked, -his dress clothes were creased. - -In the manner of a man announcing news of deep interest he spoke: - -"I feel a little better now. I think I deserve a cigarette." He felt -in his pockets for his cigarette case. He looked on the floor, in the -fender, and under the cushions of the arm-chair. "Dear me! Where's my -cigarette case?" - -"You don't think I have it, do you?" Mrs. Selwyn asked coldly. She had -been playing hostess to a couple of friends while the host slept. - -"I don't know where it is; it's not here, anyhow." A terrific frown -came over his face. "This accursed habit of tidying is making the house -impossible to live in. One puts a thing down, and the next minute some -interfering meddler picks it up and hides it, and then forgets where -they put it. Curse everybody!" - -Mrs. Selwyn grew very stiff. "Is this language meant for me? I shall -not submit another moment to it. I am very pleased your cigarette case -is lost. I hope it has gone for good. You are a perfect plague with -your things. It is very good of anyone to touch them at all. In future -they can lie where they drop as far as I am concerned." - -"I hope everyone else will be equally kind. There may be a chance of -finding things then. Life's not worth living as it is, with a troop of -women following one about picking up every little thing one puts down -and then losing it." - -Selwyn shouted at the top of his voice. "Jane!" The parlourmaid came -in. His smile was charming. "I've lost my cigarettes, Jane. They are -nowhere to be found." - -"The case is on the mantelpiece, sir, in the library, where you left it -this afternoon." - -"Ah!" Selwyn saved an awkward situation by finding a pipe and cleaning -it. Mrs. Selwyn watched him keenly. He cried out suddenly. - -"You women amuse me. You live in an agony of unrest in case a bit of -ash gets on a chair or rug, and shorten your lives with the excitement -of finding a fishing-bag with a few fish in it on a drawing-room sofa -instead of in the kitchen. There never was a woman yet with a true -idea of comfort. Hullo! chocolates here. They don't look bad at all." -He proved his words by diving into the box and bringing out a handful, -which he munched with obvious satisfaction. - -"I believe in a man liking sweets. It shows he doesn't drink." He -munched on a moment or two. Then he smiled with the charm that deceived -guests into believing him a solicitous host. "Now who is going to play -or sing? I am sure none of you are entertaining Harry as I should have -done had health allowed. By the way though, I did hear some music. I -think I must have been asleep. It was that sherry we had at dinner. -It's a fatal thing to wet one's whistle with. A glass or two of sherry -followed by the genial blaze of a good fire on the pit of the stomach, -and the case is hopeless. I expect these chocolates will play up with -my hollow tooth. It's a sad thing to arrive at my time of life and -begin to feel oneself giving way everywhere. I can't get about as I -used to. A hard day's shooting knocks me up." He shook his head in -deeply sympathetic manner. - -"Haven't you done enough talking about yourself?" - -"I'm talking because I'm the only one here with any ideas of -conversation. You are all sitting like a crowd at a wake before the -whisky is passed round." - -"You give everybody a racking headache." - -"I'm very sorry. I don't know why, but there it is, I never get -headaches." - -"Nothing would ever kill you." - -"You needn't be so annoyed about it. As a matter of fact I've not been -at all well these last few months; only, unlike other people, I make no -fuss about it. I've a thundering good mind to see a doctor to-morrow. I -jolly well will." - -Great matters followed on that little upset. The rocky state of his -health came as a thunderbolt to Selwyn. His medical man said an entire -change of scene and climate was absolutely needful. What better place -than Surprise where every worry could be put behind? With a fishing-rod -and a gun-case in the baggage a man should be good for a six-month's -stay. Mrs. Selwyn began with a stout refusal. She knew as well as she -was alive the affair would end disastrously. She had a presentiment -some calamity was waiting. She could foresee with her capable brain how -unfitted Hilton was for the whole business. Her heart was in her mouth -at the mere thought of the journey. And look at the expense. "Think -of my purse!" she cried. "Think of my pocket!" Finally she fell into -agreement, so as to be at hand to say "I told you so." - -Thus it came about that a fiery November afternoon found the -Selwyns covering the last mile of the journey. The back of the -coach was a-choke with wares. The mail bags shared the bottom with -the Selwyn luggage, and a round dozen of other parcels held the -hopes of as many women at Surprise. Mrs. Niven, Mrs. Bloxham, Mrs. -Anybody-else-you-please, lured by a catalogue, had summoned them in a -halting hand weeks before, and had spent spare time counting up the -days to their coming. On top of this bundle of wares, in no ways a bed -of their choosing, were chained Selwyn's proved bodyguard, the sharers -of his board, almost the sharers of his bed. They were a mangy pointer -of great age, and a terrier with a punishing jaw. The pointer had -fallen into a miserable doze; but the terrier yet nursed hope of sudden -calamity, and kept a quarrelsome eye at half-cock. - -With a crack of the whip, a spurt from the goose-rumped horses, and a -stir among the waiting congregation, the coach rolled to a standstill -before Surprise Valley Hotel. Such was the manner of the Selywn coming. - - . . . . . . . - -That evening it wanted half-an-hour to the rise of the moon when Power -left Neville's verandah for his horse and the journey home. The lights -were going out over all the camp. Maud followed at his side for a -good-bye. The old man fussed after them as far as the back door. - -"Don't chatter too long, gel. I won't be left with them people, d'ye -hear? I may be wrong, but I think it won't take me time to be sick o' -the pair of them. I may be wrong, huh, huh! Goodness! Look at the lid -off the dustbin again. That woman don't do a thing she's told. Look at -it! Some people breeds flies for a fancy. Hope ye have a good trip, -Power. See you again in a week." - -The hill begins at the very backdoor of the house, and lifts a wide -breast of broken red rock into the cooler spaces. There are many seats -about the top, and all breezes go that way. The poet, the refugee and -the sighing swain thither may turn steps to find easement of their -state. But few visit the hilltop, for the poet has no place on the -books of the Surprise Mining Company, and the refugee need not take -such a lengthy journey, while love ever keeps its hiding-places ready -at hand. - -The old man turned into the house, and Maud Neville put her hands on -Power's shoulders. "A few minutes don't matter, Jim. This is our first -time to-day. We'll go up the hill a moment." - -They went up there, and sat down upon the warm, red rock. The camp -was a few points of light in the dark; but many white stars filled -the sky in old places--the Cross to the South, the Belt to the North, -the Scorpion where you must crane the neck to find it. In such a dark -lovers must sit closely if they would not be lost. - -"Jim, to-day has been a failure, hasn't it?" - -"I didn't mean it to be." - -"You have had the blues all day, and those wretched people came before -I could cure you." - -"I shall be back in a week, Maud." - -"I had worked father so hard, and all for nothing. I know it was not -your fault. There wasn't one chance." - -"I'll have a pipe now we have sat down." - -"See the stars marching into their old places. What a lot they see. Do -you think they look right into us?" - -"Let us hope not." - -"Do you love me, Jim?" - -"Must I say it again?" - -"As much as you say you do?" - -"I forget how much I said." - -"Because sometimes ... well ... sometimes." - -"What happens sometimes?" - -"Ah, Jim, is there always to be a 'sometimes?' Why do I have always the -little stab at my heart? Is the whisperer true who says I do most of -the loving?" - -She heard no answer. - -"Sometimes I am afraid of what waits for us. And always I love you -very, very much. No, no, I am not afraid. I am now the wise woman. -Along the road my heart has come I have found the thorny places, but I -am learning to tread them with a shrug of pain and to march on where -the way opens out. There are aloes in the sweet cake of love; but let -us eat, for the spices will forget the aloes. The cook cooks well, but -he has not all the ingredients to his hand, and they go hungry who -demand only the stars for food." Her arms found his shoulders. Her -kisses found his lips. - -"What an eloquent little tongue you have, girl! How can I find the -words to answer you?" - -"Don't talk a minute." But she herself spoke again in a little while. - -"Time goes by." - -"It does." - -"Two years ago we were strangers. We got along without each other. How -funny that! What did you find in me to want me? Jim, aren't you ever -going to answer to-night?" - -There was no answer. - -"Friend Jim, do cheer up." - -"I'm cheered up. Things are wrong to-day. I don't know why. These -things happen sometimes. My fault, no doubt. The bush is a good enough -place, girl, but it doesn't do to start thinking there." - -He put silence to flight by getting to his feet. "I must stand watch by -midnight. A week will bring me back again. We'll say good night here. -Good night." - -"Good night, Jim. Seven days are flying towards me on damaged wings." - -"Good night again, girl. Let your blessings follow me while I am away." - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -THE RETURN TO SURPRISE - - -The week was beggared, and had borrowed two days from the next, when -Power came riding back to Surprise. He had left the musterers and the -cook's waggon after breakfast to find their own way home, and a steady -walk all day across the plain brought him at evening to the bottom of -the long slope of Dingo Gap, and a bare half-dozen miles from Surprise. -Man and beast had made small matter of the journey. - -Power came back in better cheer. Reflection stays at the fireside when -a man rides off at the heels of a mob of cattle, and Power came home -with only the recollections of a summer madness to flick his memory. A -mile of difficult travelling hid him from the crossways, and who denies -Fate sits there sometimes pointing the path to follow? - -Half-way up the distance, where the road swings back upon itself, and -a hurly-burly of rocks shuts the sight from climbing farther, where it -takes a good man to steer a buggy--there, I say to you, Power met Moll -Gregory, astride a shabby horse, face to face. She was going down and -he was going up, and they must halt their horses to divide the way. - -At once the old sickness returned. Leech, thou hast tinkered with thine -ointments, bring now the knife to heal. The beast was knock-kneed and -at odds with age, with a moulding saddle across its back and a sack of -goods hanging at either side. The girl was dressed in coarse stuff cut -out with poor skill on some close night by the light of a hurricane -lamp. A big hat, sitting on her head like a roof, spoiled the fury of -the suns; yet that beauty found full forgiveness for the shabby setting. - -The horses waited side by side, and Moll Gregory sat an arm's -length away; but the nearness cost her no effort, and she looked up -unconcerned. The frown left Power's forehead. - -"Hullo, Mister; back again?" - -"You are well loaded up," he said. "Two tucker bags full to the throat." - -"I get the tucker now. Mum and me reckon to keep Dad home if we can. -He's too much trouble when he gets a drop into him." - -"It's a long way round by the Gap." - -"It makes a change." - -"How has the show turned out?" - -"A1. But dad isn't over fond of a shovel. He's took up with the wire -strainer again, and says there's heaps of money in it when it gets -going. You should hear him and mum on at it of a night." She laughed. -Her voice was charming when no words defiled it. She waved the flies -away and lifted her hat a little. She may have thought Power looked at -the hat overlong, for she said: "It isn't great shakes, is it?" - -"Better than getting burnt up." - -"The suns have took longer than I remember doing me harm. Anyway there -wouldn't be many to growl if I was spoilt. Maybe a gum-tree or two by -the river, or old Bluey the dog might see a change. There's none else -to take notice." - -It was for Power to come forward with the compliment; but she received -silence for her pains. She pouted charmingly as a child might do. - -All the moods sat in her eyes, and a hurry of passions, grave and gay, -waited on her ready lips. Had she been a little older, or read another -page of life, she might have understood those silences, and taking -pity, have set her horse upon the road. But she looked across to say: - -"I reckon you don't take much account of looks in a girl." She failed -again. A third time she tried. "Others do." - -"I see," he said. He pushed a hand across his face, for the flies held -high festival that afternoon. "We didn't leave you lonely when we rode -off?" - -"No," came with a toss of the head. "All men aren't like you, Mr. -Power. Some knows a neat ankle, though it takes the best part of a -dozen mile through the bush to find it." - -"And this bold knight, is he young and charming?" - -"No, he isn't. He's fat, and sweats when he walks. But he knows how to -talk a girl round, and he calls me his Princess." - -"Then it is a royal courtship on both sides." She did not understand. -"King is your courtier," he said. "I'm glad we didn't all forget you." -There fell a little pause and his forehead wrinkled up. Then he said -earnestly: "Answer me, girl. I am not asking for nothing. Mick O'Neill -is in love with you. Do you mean to run square with him; or is he to be -the dog barking up the tree, and the 'possum not at home?" - -She showed a flash of temper for the first time. - -"My name is Moll Gregory, my address is North Queensland, and I am not -telling what I do to every feller stopping me on the road." - -But she met her better at this business. Power broke in on top of her. -"He is a good man, and he'll play you straight, whether you play him -straight or don't. He is my friend, that's all." - -The anger went out of their faces. Power was searching for something to -say, but she was the quicker. - -"I'm not going to quarrel with you yet," she said, her head to one -side. "It's too dead dull on the river to start scaring blokes away. -When will you come along for another look at the show? Dad's done a bit -you know there. He's dotty on the wire strainer. That's what has slowed -him up. What about to-night?" - -"Not to-night. Another day. To-morrow, if you like." - -"To-night." - -"Not to-night." - -"To-night," she said again, frowning. - -"To-morrow." - -"I reckon you don't have too many manners, Mister. A girl don't say -to-night too often, you know." - -"I----oh, why won't to-morrow do?" - -"Very well," she said, much put out and taking no trouble to hide -it. "I'll talk to meself to-night while mum and dad fights over the -wire strainer. Only I reckon a girl don't feel too good when she says -to-night and a feller says to-morrow." - -"Then to-night it is." - -The smiles ran all about her face. "That's a promise, Mister?" - -"Yes." - -"And early?" - -"Not too late." - -She leaned a little out of the saddle, with her dainty teeth just -apart. "They say you are a smart man among cattle, Mister." - -"That's good news." - -"It takes a quick man to be a daddy stockman, don't it?" - -"It does." - -"Then I reckon all your quickness has gone into cattle," she answered, -and broke into another peal of laughter, and flicked the old horse -awake, and so passed on down the road. - -Power drew his reins together and finished the journey up the hill. -You look upon a very fair prospect from the summit of Dingo Gap; long -lines of hills lifting broad bosoms to the sky; far behind on the -plain the broad belt of the river; ahead the broken pathway dipping -downward to Surprise. Power was short-sighted that evening, and waiting -up there to breathe his horse he fell into a brown study, and looked -from a pinnacle of his soul down a valley long as the roadway of Dingo -Gap. Mayhap he called himself turncoat, wearer of any man's livery, -weathercock to flap wings to every wind; sufficient it is, he left his -thoughts presently, for the day grew old, and by sunset he had ridden -into the beginnings of Surprise. With a nod here, a good day there, he -passed to the stable and spent the last minutes of daylight serving his -horse. That matter to his mind, he turned steps towards the house. - -Maud Neville sat before the house alone. At his coming, she jumped up -in great good spirits. He guessed she had counted on the meeting, for -she wore a dress he had noticed once. Yet he must remark the wear and -tear of summer on her face, and fall out of humour at his own keenness -of sight. He did his best to meet her mood. "Back once again," he -called out. - -"You owe us two days," she answered. And next she cried: "Jim, Jim, I'm -so glad." She left the kisses she had waiting for him till later on, -as Messrs Boulder and Niven took the evening against the store across -the way, pipe at mouth, the tail of an eye cocked for whatever might go -forward. - -Standing there at the doorstep of the house Power became suddenly -aware that he had to his credit a long day's ride, and that he was -tired. The cries of the crickets and other evening insects entered -his consciousness, and with surprise he remarked the afterglow of the -sunset, and realised night would fall in a few minutes. This slight -fatigue affected him suddenly and strangely. He saw with new vision the -pure soul of the woman who waited now ready to receive him. Always -she met him with open hands, whether he came in good humour or in bad. -She bore the tiring summer days without repining, and, more than that, -from the daily course of affairs extracted a philosophy of life. He was -tired after the day's ride, and here she stood desiring only to banish -his fatigue by her ministrations. She had had her own day's work, but -that was unremembered. She had learned that giving was more profitable -than taking. He saw how often he hunted the shadow and missed the -substance. - -The cries of the insects began again while the afterglow faded in -the sky. The promise he had made an hour since came to mind. He bent -his brows at thought of it. Well, it was given now. It must be kept. -Maud was leading the way into the house, and he was following her -mechanically. In the dining-room a table was laid for one person. -The cloth was clean; all was ready to hand. She had done this on the -chance of his coming to-night. This joy of service was love. And he too -claimed to love. Yet he had put himself out little enough when all was -said and done--came much when he wanted, went much when he wished. What -a good woman she was, yet he always had to be telling himself this. -He was one of those heavy-eyed dullards who would not believe in the -butterfly because the chrysalis was a poor thing. - -What was happening this evening that he was for ever dreaming? He -had often enough been a bit tired; but it had not caused melancholy. -Why shirk the point? The child on the road had moved him beyond all -experience. She had put a torch to his thoughts. She had seemed an echo -of all lovers who had tripped down the corridors of time. - -"Wake up, Jim! You are tired, poor boy." - -"I have been at it all day. Give me something to eat." - -"See, we expected you. While you wash I shall have it all ready." - -He left the room, and a minute or two later he found the meal waiting -for him, and she in a seat opposite, elbows on table, hands making a -cup for her chin, her face gay and full of fondness. "Sit down, Jim, -and begin at the beginning." - -He went through his examination, and at the same time made a good -supper. He received a shake of the head or a nod, a pout or a frown -according to the telling of his story. - -"Jim, do you know what I did this morning? I woke up very early and -found there had been a sudden change in the night. Quite a cold breeze -was blowing. I had to get up at once. I couldn't help myself. When I -was dressed I called out to father I was going for a ride, and went -looking for old Stockings. It was breaking dawn, and sharp enough to -remind you of winter. Stockings was quite lively for an old fellow. I -went straight out into the plain past the Conical Hill. The sky was -growing brighter all the time. The birds were singing as if it were -winter, and the hoofs of Stockings rang out clear. Plenty of kangaroos -were abroad, and one old man stood up and refused to budge as we went -by. I pushed on across the plain as long as the sunrise lasted, looking -back now and then to see I wasn't losing Conical Hill. The cold stayed -until the sun was over the horizon, and then I turned Stockings round -and began to walk home. I was thinking that forty, fifty or sixty miles -away you had seen this same sunrise, and felt the same cold in your -bones. I understood then how much the life meant to you, and why you -were always ready for a muster or a journey down the roads with cattle. -Jim, I think a man working abroad has a better chance of reading life -straight than a girl who belongs to the four walls of a house. A man -must be a dunce to stay untaught by a morning like to-day. What's -making you frown?" - -"I'm not frowning, and I don't think you are right, Maud. When all is -added up, a woman sees her way surer than a man. A good dog has the -best religion. He serves his master through fair weather and foul--he -heels the cattle in season, he chews his bones in season, and takes -his kicks in season. He knows the art of ready service. A woman comes -next for quick learning; but a man doesn't find the right way without -hurt.... Maud, I have something to say. I want you to understand -it now. The best man is ill put together. He may be brave, but he -runs crooked in his dealings. He may be good at heart, and a pair of -stranger eyes turn him off the course. Listen, girl ... if things ... -well if ever I turn defaulter, put all of me in the scales, and maybe a -thing or two will help pull the balance nearer straight." - -"Poor old Jim, don't talk in that heavy way! You have been too hard at -it this week. You are tired. I know of something to put you right." - -"Where are you going?... What have you there?" - -A bottle of wine was held up to him. - -"We have feasted the visitors since you went away. This is one of the -last. Don't tell father." - -"Not this time, Maud. Another day will do." - -"Do what you are told. Open it." - -He obeyed. - -"Fill both glasses and stand up." - -"What madness are you after?" - -"I said, stand up. That's right. Now hear what I have to say." She -lifted up her glass. She stood by the light of the window, but outside -side darkness was falling fast. - -"Drink, Jim, for these glasses have been filled in honour of the past -as we have lived it, and of the future as it shall be shaped. The -grape ferments, and the red wine results; lovers quarrel and good -understanding is born. The orchard blossoms, the blossoms fall to the -ground, but from the boughs come forth the fruit. Love arrives with -spiced dishes, but when the meats have staled, on the table lies the -bread of life. We are learning understanding; but other pages of that -book remain for our reading. Drink to receive the clean heart, the -straight purpose, and the good comradeship which walks with those -things. Let cowardice be unknown between us. The mistake made, we will -bare it in our hands, knowing the other will understand." - -Who knows what Power saw in that ruddy wine drunk in the darkened room? -He pledged the toast to the end. With never a word more between them -they put down their glasses. - -"The others are in the verandah," Maud said to break the spell, "you -must talk to them for half-an-hour. Come along." - -She led the way. Darkness had fallen in a clap while he ate, and lamps -had been brought outside. In the distance Mr. Wells was testing his -cornet for the evening's work. From the verandah came sounds of raised -voices, and at a first look about, the place was full of people. -Neville had kept his old seat. At the other end Selwyn appeared well -off. Mrs. Selwyn and King, with Scabbyback the mangy pointer, and -Gripper the terrier, filled less important places. Somebody smoked good -cigars. - -The battle for supremacy between the two veterans had led to a division -of honours. Neville had won his old place handy to the waterbags -and the whisky, but Selwyn had the cigars and matches at his elbow, -and was deep down in his chair, with feet resting at a great height -against the wall, as behoved a man whose health was in a rocky state, -and no mistake about it. Mrs. Selwyn endured a straight-backed chair; -and King, who liked comfort, but who cared more for peace, was poorly -served. - -The talk was broken off for a moment when Maud led in Power. Selwyn -rose to smile with great charm, and later sank back into the same seat -with reluctance, apparently persuaded to keep it against his will. The -talk flowed on again. - -"You have wakened up since I was away, Mr. Selwyn," Maud said. - -"Yes, isn't it a pest?" Mrs. Selwyn exclaimed. "We have had such a -peaceful half hour." - -One thing remained to Selwyn from the ruins of his wrecked health. He -could get his forty minutes' nap after a good meal. "Now, look here," -he had said in the bedroom before dinner, shaking a tobacco-stained -finger, "this absurd stand-on-ceremony is doing me harm. There was -excuse for staying awake the first night or two; but my infernal good -manners have carried things to an extreme. Now, look here," said he, -wagging the yellow finger, "when we have had dinner, sing to them, or -talk to the girl about clothes, or do something else; but at all costs -distract the family from me, so that I can get my sleep. I like hearing -the gentle hum of voices when I'm comatose." - -"What's your news, Power?" the old man grunted from his corner. -"Morning Springs still in the same place, I expect?" - -"Have you come from Morning Springs?" Mrs. Selwyn cried. "What a -desperate place! I stood there in the blazing sun half the day waiting -for the coach. The top of my head was coming off. The place was turning -round me." - -"Did you see anybody?" said the old man. - -"Milbanks was in. He says it is pretty dry out his way. Says things -won't be too good if the rains are late. Claney asked after you. He -has a silica show in tow. The Reverend Five-aces turned up at the -hotel a couple of nights and seemed in form." - -"He sounds a gentleman to keep an eye on," said Selwyn. "I think I -shall button my pockets when he comes to shrive me." - -"You would do better with a sixth ace in your hat," said King. "He may -be out here one day soon. He's due for a visit." - -"He lost a game when I was in," Power went on. - -"Hey!" cried the old man. "How was that, lad?" - -"Half-a-dozen of us were at the hotel pretty late, and he made one of -a bridge four. Upstairs a man was dying in the horrors. He had shouted -out all night--very badly. As time went on he grew quiet. Mrs. Smith, -the landlady, a good churchgoer, runs into the room presently. 'Mr. -Thomas, there's a man upstairs very sick. He's dying, Sir, or I'll -never live to tell another. Come upstairs, Mr. Thomas, and lend him the -comforts of the Church.' - -"Five-aces looks at her, and looks at his hand with the king and queen -there and all the royal family, and he fingers his chin and says, -'There's no call for this fluster, Mrs. Smith. He has a pretty strong -voice still. There's no call for an hour or two. Maybe I'll take a -look that way when we've played out the rubber.' - -"Half an hour later Mrs. Smith comes in again in great bustle. Oh! Mr. -Thomas as true as I mean to go light through Purgatory, he cannot last -much longer. I tell ye he'll be gone if ye wait.' - -"'Mrs. Smith,' Five-aces then says very short, and frowning down his -chin. 'I have every card to my hand. Your business will keep as long as -the rubber, it's my belief.' - -"Presently Mrs. Smith comes in again. Old Five-aces looks very black. -'It's no good, Mrs. Smith, I have just gone "no trumps." I shall get a -"little slam" out of this.' - -"'Ye needn't put yourself about, Sir,' says she. 'There's been a "grand -slam" upstairs.'" - -Mrs. Selwyn shuddered. "Mr. Power, how could you tell such a horrible -story. I feel most unwell." - -"I am sorry, Mrs. Selwyn. I won't offend again." - -"I pray the creature stays away until I'm gone." - -Neville chuckled again in his corner. "You would find him charming -until you sat down to bridge. Many is the yarn we have had over a -whisky. He can tell the best story for a hundred miles round. Maybe -better men could be found to pilot the soul to Heaven, but he can -claim always to be at the pilot's post, and that's the Bridge. There's -a good one, Maud, gel. He, he! Huh, huh, huh!" - -Mrs. Selwyn had not yet recovered. "I sincerely hope our other clergy -have a better sense of fitness," she said. - -Neville was having trouble with his pipe. "A parson comes round these -parts with a pack-horse or two every six months for a couple of days, -and that is as good as one can expect. He don't get two hundred a year -wages, and has to feed himself and his horses. With chaff round our -parts up to eighteen shilling a bag, I would shake my head at the job -myself. He don't get more than a dozen at his service, for half laughs -at him, and the other half, that would go, laugh too because the first -half laughs." - -"If he comes while we are here, I shall make a point of going," Mrs. -Selwyn said. - -"Hey, Power!" cried Neville, jerking his thumb. "Here's the whisky." - -"A good idea," said King. - -"Excellent," echoed Selwyn. - -"Father, your fight this afternoon seems to have cheered you up," said -Maud. - -"What fight?" Power asked. - -"The fellers sent Robson up to ask me to unlock the tanks. I put him -to the right-about pretty quick. A-huh-huh-huh!" - -Selwyn sat up. "Did you get much sport on your trip, Mr. Power? There -must have been some thundering good chances early in the morning. -Nobody to blunder about and disturb the game from year end to year end." - -"A man doesn't get much spare time with cattle," Power answered. "He -rides all day, and stands his two watches at night. He is inclined to -leave hunting for another time. The cook took a rifle in the waggon, -and got a turkey or two; but he sees double, and generally aims at the -wrong bird. We had sport of another kind, though, which might have -turned into something nasty." - -"Ah! How was that?" - -"On the border of this run and the next is a stretch of timbered -country called Derby's Ten Mile. It is a good bit of country, with -big holes holding water all the year, and Simpson, of Kurrajong, my -neighbour, keeps it as a horse paddock. For all the fine trees by the -river, the place has a bad name. You can't get a man of those parts to -camp there the night. There is a story of a swagman murdered on the -big hole by his mate twenty years ago. I believe the tale is true, -but whether or no, they say on calm nights something cries out in the -paddock. This time the cry will sound low down, the next time it will -come from the air, and never twice in the same place. You can find a -score of men to swear to this. Simpson assured me on moonlight nights -he has known the horses stampede from the other side of the river. - -"A carrier I knew told me an accident to his waggon once forced him -to camp there one night. It was winter, freezing hard--as cold as the -Pole--and you could hear a horse bell a dozen miles. He was sitting -over the fire thinking of turning into bed, when he heard a queer -screech by a clump of timber a couple of miles away. 'Some blanky -bird,' he says. He had come round to thoughts of bed again, when he -heard the screech a second time, and not more than a mile off, and on -the top of it every horse came flying across the dry river bed. They -went past him as though they weren't stopping this side of the sea. In -a shake the fellow had turned colder than the frost, and he was asking -himself what was the trouble, when something shrieked at him, not the -length of a bullock team off. He felt a breath of ice in his face----" - -Behind the house a fowl gave a blood-curdling death-cry. Gooseflesh -rose on the spine of the bravest there. Thanks to that self-command -which had stood Mrs. Selwyn in stead on so many occasions, she -exclaimed, "What's that?" and no more. But afterwards she owned that -for five minutes she was turning hot and cold. The cry was repeated -more faintly. Steps sounded outside, and at the same time came the -voice of Mrs. Nankervis, the cook, exclaiming out loud. Her steps -advanced in a hurry across the house. She burst through the doorway, -all wind and heavy breaths, and hands pressed to her ample sides. - -"Lord save us! There's a python got the yaller pullet under the house." - -"Python!" cried Selwyn, clapping hands to the arms of his chair. "What -size?" - -"Ah! Like that!" Mrs. Nankervis threw her arms out right and left. -"Twenty foot! Thirty foot!" - -Selwyn scrambled to his feet. "What magnificent luck!" - -"It don't go twenty foot, nor half it," said Neville, feeling for -his stick. "The small ones turn up now and then. The big fellows sit -tight in the bush. The pullet's gone. That's a pity. I reckoned on her -turning out a good layer." - -There was a pushing back of chairs. Somebody took the lanterns from the -wall. Selwyn, Mrs. Nankervis and the dogs went through the door at the -one moment. The rest of the company followed at their heels. - -But, beyond the light thrown by the lanterns, the night showed very -black, and the hurry of the party abated. The old man began to chuckle -from the rear. "Go ahead," he said. "I can see satisfactory from here. -You have got a lantern, Mr. Selwyn. Ye can get under the house. Put -the lantern round about the piles first. Unless the snake is half way -to Morning Springs, I reckon it's better to take the first look at him -from the distance. Afterwards ye can wear him for a comforter round -your neck. A-huh-huh-huh!" - -"Hilton, I entreat you to moderate your excitement and consider what -you are about. I don't know whether I am on my crown or my toes." - -Selwyn trembled with anticipation. The cigar did a step-dance between -his teeth. He seemed to grow lean before the eyes of the company. He -held forward the lantern and re-gripped his stick. Step by step he -advanced among the piles holding up the house. Bring all your eyes -to look. The hunter has gone forth to slay. Pace by pace he made his -ground. Inch by inch he obtained a more cunning hold of his staff. -Gripper, the terrier, wrinkled at the nose and very stiff at tail, -followed him to the field of battle; but Scabbyback the ancient pointer -scratched in the shadows as though digging out the very sea-serpent -itself. - -"Get out of that, you mangy muddler," Selwyn said, prodding him on the -way. - -The light from the lanterns thrust far into the shadows; and, behold, -upon a patch of sand among the piles was discovered the python heaped -in an evil mass and holding the dead fowl among his coils. Black he -showed, and dark green in places, and supple and wicked and beautiful -and fierce and fascinating and treacherous all in one glance, so that a -man must look to admire, and yet turn his head in loathing. - -"That's him! That's him!" said Neville. "And I reckoned he wouldn't -wait our visit." - -"Hilton, I implore you," Mrs. Selwyn cried. That was her single moment -of weakness. - -Selwyn hooked the lantern on a convenient ledge, where the light fell -in all corners of the battle-field. The python made no business of -departure, but stared at this hurly-burly from cold eyes in a shovel -head as big as a woman's hand. Forward went Selwyn to the combat, taut -and tucked up, but never a moment in doubt. All the while he talked to -himself, assuring all who cared to listen, courage and a stout right -hand must win, and that the gentle persuasion of a boxwood club at the -nape of the neck must settle the account even of the serpent of Eden. - -"A-ha, gently does it. Keep back, sir"--and a yelp told that Gripper -had tested the weight of his master's staff. "Kindly, kindly, is my -way. Bring a lantern this way--more to the right--more to the right. -A-ha, my beauty, allow me to introduce the friend in my hand." - -Neville wagged his head from the back of affairs. "Power, ye had better -see what he's doing," he said. "He'll be getting into mischief. That -will be a big feller when he's pulled straight." - -As Power stepped forward, Mrs. Nankervis ran out of the house with the -gun. - -"There's sense, woman," said Neville. "Hey, Power, give him this." - -Power put Maud in charge of a lantern, and took the gun. "That's rather -a risky business, Mr. Selwyn," he said. "He is too big for a stick." - -Selwyn stretched out a ravenous hand for the gun. He planted his -legs wide apart and put it to his shoulder. The great serpent, head -flattened down, stared from callous eyes. Gripper showed every tooth. -Scabbyback had found business in the distance. Mrs. Selwyn closed her -eyes and summoned all her fortitude. There was a moment when everybody -waited. A roar sounded underneath the house. The snake whipped his head -up and down again in a single movement. His coils fell apart in the -twinkling of an eyelid, and riot was let loose. Selwyn, scrambling -back, knocked the lantern to the ground, and the light jumped up and -went out. - -The python thrashed the wooden piles, embraced them, rolled free again, -knotted itself upon the ground, and fell in a writhing agony among the -hunters. - -"Give me the lamp, girl," Power cried out, "and get out quick." - -Maud held out the lamp. Power took the lamp. Power bounded back. -Something struck him across the leg. He leapt farther back. The python -in hideous pain beat at the piles and at the air. Power heard Selwyn -beside him mutter "Magnificent, magnificent." - -"Shoot, man; shoot!" Power cried. Selwyn raised the gun. Power pushed -forward the lantern to make best use of it. Selwyn fired point blank. -The uproar in the confined space was immense. There was a heave of the -coils. The python was blown in half. - -The company drew slowly near, and Selwyn fell into a grand attitude, -"A-ha," he said. "The old hand has not lost its cunning. A right and -left, and there he lies. Fifteen foot if an inch, by Jove!" - -Very terrible the python looked in death, torn about on the bloody sand -with muscles yet twitching. Mrs. Selwyn closed her eyes. "Hilton, -every day you have less consideration for my feelings." - -"He'll be a fair size stretched," said the old man, poking with his -stick. "I'm sorry about that pullet. Hold that lamp straight, Maud. -Ye'll have the glass smoked. Some of you had better get this mess -cleaned before the ants come. Shall we go back to the verandah, Mrs. -Selwyn? Snakes don't get through the fly-netting." - -They persuaded Selwyn back to everyday, and Power and he were mourners -at the funeral. While they went about the ceremony, Maud and King -wandered a little way into the dark. They could watch the sextons going -in and out of the lamplight, Power moving quickly about the matter, and -Selwyn very full of his past performance. Their own employment--finding -seats on the warm stones--was the better one, for the night was hot, as -are most nights when you go to live at Surprise. - -"Have you nothing to say to-night, Mr. King? Are a cigarette and the -dark all you want these latter days? Be wise, and give up looking for -copper by Pelican Pool. I tell you gold would not be worth the labour. -Give by, give by, and gain your right mind among the ledgers over -there." - -"There is more reading by the Pool than in all those dreary books." - -"A midsummer madness has seized you." - -"Yet I would not find cure for my folly." - -"But look at your ages. A girl of twenty has done this." - -"The young man to the matured woman; the old man to the maid. And this -is the reason. The young man looks forward to what is to be, but the -old man stares over his shoulder at what is slipping away." - -"It is a fancy that must pass. You say she neither reads nor writes." - -"She is a lantern by whose light I read the Book of Life." - -"Mr. King, are you serious this time or not?" - -"Laugh at me if you like. I know what I am loving. She is young and -wild--a flower of these hot grounds, quick come to bloom, quick to pass -away, and without a soul, even as these bush flowers are without scent. -She should sleep upon a couch of blossoms, and go abroad crowned with -garlands; and I would play the elderly satyr and pipe her through the -summer." - -Power came across. The funeral was over; but Selwyn waited yet by the -grave, smoking a fresh cigar in honour of combat valiantly fought and -splendidly won. King got up, and in the talk that started walked away. - -"Sit down, Jim," Maud said. - -"Maud, I shall not be staying to-night. I'll come across to-morrow, -though." - -"What?" she answered coldly, and frowning of a sudden. - -"I've work I must fix up. I am as sorry as you are. I shall be across -to-morrow." - -"You have never had sudden work like this that wouldn't keep." - -"Maybe there won't be any again. Come, it can't be helped. I must get -away." - -"Good night, then." - -"Don't be silly, Maud." - -"It is useless crying when a thing can't be mended. So good night." - -"You'll think better of things to-morrow. Then, there it is--good -night." - -She kissed him coldly when he bent his head; but repenting in the same -breath, she drew him to her. "Jim, you told me so suddenly, and I am -horribly disappointed. Good luck to you until to-morrow." - -He had nothing to say. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE BANKS OF THE POOL - - -Power rode out of Surprise with the hag of reproach seated at the -crupper of his horse. He would have proved poor company for a wayfarer; -but fortune left him to follow the road alone, and he pushed his fagged -mount to some pace, and ate up the distance to Pelican Pool. - -The evening had aged when he arrived on the bank of the Pool. The -hour was ten o'clock. We woo sleep early at Surprise, for she proves -wilful mistress here, and Power believed himself too late. He heard -the whimper of the dog, and a bark checked in the throat, and then the -horse jumped under him in a difficult shy. He threw a glance into the -dark for the cause, and, lo! Moll Gregory sat at the foot of a tree as -still as the trunk supporting her. At once the hag of reproach left her -seat. Moll rose from her waiting place and came forward with a little -laugh of greeting. The jealous dark stole her countenance from Power's -eyes, but her figure defied its embrace, and she came up to his horse -young and careless and bewitching. He thought of a young tree starting -on its journey towards the sky. He tightened the rein, the horse stood -still, and he fell to staring down on her. Straightway he forgot time -and the ill humours of the day. - -"You are awful late, Mister?" - -"It's a long way from Surprise." - -"I was near giving you up, and then, Mr. Power, you would have caught -it next time we met. I'm not a girl for a fellow to say yes and no to -all the day." - -"But now I am forgiven, I must get down. What about the horse? There's -not a yard round here, is there?" - -"Dad is always talking of putting up something, but I haven't seen it -yet." - -"He is quiet enough. I'll hitch him here. There's the saddle to come -off. I won't be long." - -When the saddle stood on end at the foot of a tree, and the bit hung -loose, then Power made ready for what the hour would bring. The insects -were busy, creeping down neck and ears, and crickets kept concert in -all corners of the dark. It would grow no cooler until dawn, and soon -afterwards the sun would start up into the sky. At a little distance, -a light shone through the hessian wall of Gregory's dining-room, and -sometimes a voice came from there. Power felt in no mood for the inside -of the place. - -"I have been riding all day. Where shall we sit down?" - -He was led to a seat by the tree trunk. They sat down a little apart. -Branches held a latticed canopy over them, and the lattice work let in -the starlit sky. The dog mooched round as company. - -"So you had given me up?" - -"Yes, Mister. I'd been waiting there I forget how long. Dad and Mum -started to row when we was washing up, and I flung out of the place in -a temper. I set about a bit of fishing by the Pool. It isn't bad fun -these nights. Sometimes you get a bonza haul. But it's awful dreary -sitting by the bank alone. I don't know what's took me lately, but I -get terrible tired of things. I reckon it's since Mr. King told me of -all there was to be seen away from here." - -They sat in a lap of land on top of the bank, where it fell sharp to -the water, and just now a fish leapt in the shallows. - -"Shall we fish, Mr. Power?" she said. "The rod is down there somewhere. -They were too slow when I came out, and I gave it over." - -"We will." - -They found a roadway down the bank. They found the rod. They sat upon -the bank. She put the rod over the water, and Power took a pipe from -his pocket. - -"They call you Moll, don't they? I am going to be a friend of yours. -May I call you Molly? I think it prettier than Moll." - -"Orl right, Mister. We won't quarrel over it. I reckon the mosquitoes -like fishing too. Do you fish ever?" - -"Sometimes. I shoot most when there's spare time. I like fishing -though." - -"Struth! Something's at me now. I won't yank yet. These fellers give a -good bite when they mean business." - -"Do you often come here? I've ridden by many times and watered my horse -here; I've watered a good few mobs of cattle here, too. But I never -knew how beautiful it was until I fished to-night." - -"Now and again I get fair sick of Mum and Dad, and then I come and fish -or take a walk along the bank. I like listening to the things that move -in the dark." - -"What do you hear?" - -"Oh, the fishes are always jumping in the shallows, and sometimes a -crocodile sticks his nose up, and times I surprise a turtle in the -sands. There's plenty of kangaroos thumping along for a drink--strike -me! Hark at that fellow." - -"Yes, he's noisy enough for an old man--Molly." - -"Can't you get out 'Molly' easier? There's no call to jerk your head -over it." - -"It was not hard to say. It lies gently on the tongue. And so you make -friends with the animals? If you are here in winter time you will find -the pelicans fishing at dawn, and spoonbills, too, as white as snow. -You have heard of snow, I suppose? It falls among the mountains down -South in July and August--Molly." - -"It don't come easy yet. I reckon Molly is no harder to say than 'My -Princess.'" - -"Does it fall as kindly on the ear as 'My Princess?'" - -"I like 'My Princess,' and I like Molly. I can do with two friends -since I was so long without one.... Now, what are you thinking of, -Mister? You sit staring at the Pool and sucking yer pipe. Why don't yer -talk? You are as dummy as the fishes what won't come at my hook." - -"I was thinking a week or two can make a queer change in a man's -fortune." - -"It do. Luck takes a turn times when things look dreadful hopeless. -Straight wire. I tell you I've watched the water o' nights, and thought -about settling things up. And then, like a cow to a new-dropped calf, -you fellows came along to liven things." - -"We came along one day and found you here, and now all the roads on -Kaloona run lean to Pelican Pool. Molly, do you know all you have done? -Think, Molly, a moment. Have you kind word for my friend, Mick O'Neill? -Or for Mr. King driving through the heat from Surprise?" - -"Good enough for them what they get." - -"Don't you believe in love?" - -"Mr. Power, you are too fond of questions. I shall be giving you the -rod soon to hold. Don't you think a girl may have a bit of fun? It's -awful hard when a man likes you to tell him to clear out. Wake up, -Mister; you are awful dilly sometimes. What do you see in the water to -stare at?" - -"Every 'yes' spoken now will take a deal of unspeaking later on. Tell -me, are you a little fond of Mick?" - -"I reckon there's a bite. Look at the float, and the water rippling." - -"That bite can wait your answer." - -"He's a good figure of a man, isn't he?" - -"He is." - -"He can sit a bad horse with the next man, can't he?" - -"He can." - -"He's pretty slick through scrub, and isn't the last on the heels of a -mob. I reckon many a girl wouldn't toss her head there." - -"And Mr. King?" - -"He knows how to talk to a girl; but it don't take his fat off him, do -it? He's as old as Dad; but he's shook on me, and no error. He puffs -terrible in the sun, but he comes as often as he can. He told me there -would be something for me in a coach or two, but I said he could keep -it. First I liked a bit of attention, it had been so dull; but now I -can get as good elsewhere." - -"Send him gently about his business, then, for I think loving is easier -than unloving." - -"There's not going to be any sending about business. He can come if he -wants, and he can stay away. I know how to be not at home, and he can -try his hand talking to Bluey, the dog. Now, don't start preaching, -Mister. You can go on sucking that pipe. I'm not at the call of every -feller of fifty who gets shook on me." - -"Your own troubles will come one day, Molly, and you will grow a little -kinder because of them. The new boot is poor company for the foot, and -the heart grows softer with a bit of wear and tear. And so you are -ready to punish two men, and all their crime was looking overlong into -your eyes. Are only your glances kind, Molly? Have the suns of twenty -summers baked your little heart? Haven't you a memory or two of sorrow -stored away to make you softer now? No, don't pout." - -"Mr. Power, you seem uncommon interested in other people. I don't see -call for you to worry what I do. I reckon my comings and goings aren't -your concern. Mister, you can hear well from where you are. It's time -you took a hand at fishing." - -"Have you never found time to fall in love; or have you been too busy -saying 'no?' Molly, you were born a candle, and men will come from all -the corners, like the bush insects, to scorch in your flame. Where did -you steal your hands? A sculptor would break his chisel despairing of -them. What Paradise gave you them that the bush might stare them into -decay? Molly, Molly, you must have a soul, or what sits in your eyes -all day making men drunken?" - -"Mr. Power, you're a poor fisherman." - -"Have you never loved, Molly?" - -"Maybe yes, and maybe no, and it's not you, Mr. Power, I'm starting -blabbing to." - -"Tell me." - -"Aw, you'd laugh." - -"No." - -"Straight wire?" - -"Straight wire." - -"There's nothing to tell. Some's been round that I've laughed at and -sent away, nor thought nor cared what came of them. And one or two I've -liked a little. And one or two has made me cry. But when one fellow -goes, there's another to come after him." - -"Has a man held you in his arms? Have you ever been kissed into -kindness? What are you laughing at? Don't laugh, I say!" - -"Of course a girl's been kissed. I don't think ever was a time I wasn't -kissed. Why a girl would go dummy with only an old dog as mate, and -a kangaroo or two, and maybe an old goanna to watch. What are you -frowning for? My lips aren't kissed away." - -"The jewel that takes long getting is highest priced. Let's go back -to fishing. You have told me enough.... No, I can't fish to-night. We -might be a hundred miles away from anyone down here. Sooner or later -you will go away; but I shall never ride past the Pool again without -remembering you. I shall come here every year, when the castor-oil tree -flowers, for it was flowering when first I saw Molly Gregory standing -in the doorway of her tent, holding a lantern above her head.... Isn't -it still? The night is too close.... Molly, why are you so beautiful? -Don't you know the night is in love with you? That's why the fishes -are jumping. Don't you know the kangaroo and his mate are stooping to -drink down there, that they may share the same pool with you? Molly, -a man and a girl are only young once. It is all over in a few quick -years. All life to live in that time. A world to see.... Molly, wake -up. Don't look into your lap. Your rich body is spoiling. The bush -is jealous of beauty, and would claw the fairest works with her lean -fingers. Molly, wake up and live." - -"Aw, talk, talk, and who is the better for it in the end? I can go -back to the humpy more miserable, if that is what you want. Mr. King -comes with his grand tales, and drives off in the buggy, leaving a girl -to cry her eyes out in a room of bags. I hate the bush. I would spit -it out of my mouth, as Dad spits the suckings of his pipe out at the -door. What does the bush give you? Just gives you nothing. Never a man -or a girl to speak to. Just wash up, wash up, wash up. And carry the -water from the creek. And bail up the goats when you've got them. And a -ride to the store as a treat. And make your Johnny cake half the week, -because you haven't the heart to make bread, or haven't built the oven. -And no schooling. And not a church to go to, even if you did want to. -And just the clothes to wear as nobody will take in town. And growl, -growl, growl all day from everyone round. And if you have a few looks, -there's nobody to tell you what they think of them. Oh, you don't know -how sick I am of it. I fall dreaming sometimes, and think some man -comes and takes me right away. And then Mum gets on to me for mooning. -I'll get married some day to a looney boundary rider, and live in a hut -all me life, and have a pack of children, and grow as skinny as the -best of them. If I have daddy looks then I'll sell them to the first -man who'll pay me. The first man to take me away can have me, and he -can drop me when he's tired." - -"Don't talk like that. Don't dare to talk like that. You and I will -fall out, girl, if there's much of that spoken." - -"Turning parson, Mr. Power?... Listen, there's Mum. Hallo! What is it?" - -A voice came through the dark. "Mick O'Neill's round for half-an-hour. -Aren't yer coming in? You'll go ratty moonin' there all night." - -"Coming!" - -The spell was broken. Power forsook fairyland for everyday. Moll -Gregory and he walked towards the house through the close night. The -spikes of the grasses bent under their feet, and insects voyaging -through the dark brushed their faces. Gregory stood in the doorway of -the hut, fingering his dirty beard and talking to O'Neill. "Hullo, -Moll, got company?" he cried. "Why, it's Mr. Power. Come right in. -There's always a seat inside here waiting for Mr. Power." - -"Hullo, boss," O'Neill said, "I thought you were down at Surprise." - -"I promised to look in some time or other. Good evening, Mrs. Gregory; -you have late visitors to-night." - -The company found seats in the mean room, which was hard taxed to serve -everybody. There was no change in the place since Power had gone away. -On the rough table stood the wash basin. The shelf at the back held the -crockery. The boxes stood on end for seats. The wire strainer and the -potato digger lay in the corner. Power took all in as he filled his -pipe again. - -"I reckon you make the old place lively dropping in like this," Mrs. -Gregory began, looking from one to the other, and leering at Gregory -when the time came. "Dad was saying you had been a long while away, and -must be hitched up on the road." - -"Things went like wedding bells," said Power. "We put in a couple of -days at Morning Springs. That kept us." - -"A bit of a spree?" questioned Gregory. - -"We are respectable men on Kaloona." - -Mick O'Neill had sat down, pushing his spurred feet in front of him -across the room. He had brought a new shirt on his back and had -dressed his legs in clean trousers, belted with a bright knotted -handkerchief. A hat with a gay dent in the crown had fallen upon the -table. He had arrived pleased in advance with what might befall, a -laugh prisoned in his mouth, a merry word harnessed to his tongue. He -sat there, a man forgetting the past where the present was kind; a good -fellow who must quicken the heart of any man or woman. Maybe so thought -Power, who lost little of what went round. - -"Things aren't much changed here, are they, Mr. Power?" said Gregory in -a minute or two. "A man don't feel much like putting a house ship-shape -at night after a day's shovelling. That show has got me beat. Gone down -into rock now." - -"It's time I kept my promise of a hand," said Mick. "I reckoned for you -to be half way under the river." - -"No buyers since we were away?" Power asked. - -"Mr. King still has it in his eye; but it's gaff, and he has found a -better show than mine. A-haw, haw, haw! A-haw!" - -"We've missed you gentlemen since you went," Mrs. Gregory followed up, -looking hard at the visitors. "Haven't we, Moll?" - -"Dunno. What's this, Mick? Did you bring along your music? Good lad!" - -O'Neill picked up an accordion from the floor. "You said you liked a -bit of fun. I thought to knock a tune or two out later on." - -"That's what we want here," cried Gregory very loud. "Do you think you -could find mine, mother; or was it broke up?" - -"Have a look in the tent. It was under the stretcher last." - -In a little while Gregory came from the tent blowing the dust from his -accordion, and the rest of the evening passed on speedy heels with -song and tune and dance. The dust was kicked out of the earth floor -by stepping feet, and sounds of "hurrah" startled the elderly night. -Faces flushed; voices grew loud. Gregory swung on his box, opening and -closing his arms, knocking the sweat from his forehead, and sending -abroad his "A-haw." Mrs. Gregory grown amiable watched from the back, -and busied herself presently boiling a kettle of water. - -Power left the hut for the homeward road ere the merrymaking was worn -out. The music followed him through the dark, as he saddled and bitted -his horse. He had made ready soon, and had turned the beast home. A -soft bed waited him at Kaloona instead of the couch of grasses that -had been his portion for the week. But maybe he was to sleep no better -because of it. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -HOW THE DAYS PASS BY AT SURPRISE - - -Every day of the week, at fall of dark, I grope my way here into -my tent at Surprise, light the hurricane lamp, hook it to the beam -overhead, find paper and pen, and spur myself to the telling of a page -more of this story. Sometimes a timid breeze comes through the doorway -to cool the rising temper of the night; oftener the tent walls droop on -their wooden framework; and neither pipe nor cigarette will bring me -cheer. - -The night wears on; the mosquito sharpens his appetite, and a fringe -of the great army of flying things which moves abroad in the dark, -flutters, jumps and creeps in at the doorway to the light. By half-past -eight the attack has begun. Crickets in sober grey coats, black-banded -on the legs, lead the advance; large crickets and small crickets. Great -green grasshoppers follow; long and narrow grasshoppers, broad and -deep-chested grasshoppers. Purple grasshoppers arrive on their heels; -and now they come, large and small and in all habits. At nine o'clock -they cover the ceiling, staring at the lamp with big stupid eyes; and -strange moths and flies and flying ants have begun the Dance of Death -about the globe. - -Tilt back the chair; find the towel; neck and ears must be covered for -the rest of the sitting. When the clock shows half-past nine, pack up -the papers again, and step to the doorway awhile that contemplation may -bring better humour. Then to bed. - -At last my story is well begun, and a few days must wear out at -Surprise and Kaloona before the tale moves much forward again. The cook -puts the pot to boil. Little is to show when the lid first is lifted -but the water is heating nevertheless. - -Power came riding into Surprise now and again, and little he seemed -altered, unless his temper had grown crotchety. The camp endured at -Pelican Pool. Maud Neville went about the day's work as before and, if -she was troubled ever so little so that she rose in the morning with -a faint clutch at her heart--well, few at Surprise are without their -crosses. Mr. Horrington, clambering off his stretcher, rather rocky -in the morning, finds his eye filled with the wood-heap at the back -door and a blunt axe standing by the wall, and hears Mrs. Horrington, -clinking a billycan, crunch behind him along the path to the goat pen. -Few would believe how unwell a man can feel at half-past six in the -morning with a poor night's sleep behind him, and a wood-heap at his -elbow. - -Come morning then, come night; come laughter, come sorrow--the day's -work goes forward. Saturday brings the coach bumping from Morning -Springs. Monday, eight o'clock, hears the whistle beginning again the -week. Shabby little camp set down in the wilderness, yours is the soul -of the drudge, who finds brief time for singing at her labour, who -finds still less time for tears. - -On Monday mornings they do the washing at Surprise. Mrs. Bullock, brisk -and brawny, sitting up in bed to rub her eyes, nudges Bullock from his -last ten minutes' sleep. - -"Don't forget the copper, dad. Yer left me with two sticks last time. -Yer don't expect a woman to swing an axe as well as wash and bake and -run after you from morning to night." - -Mrs. Niven, dyspeptic and dolorous, wakes Niven with her high-pitched -tones. - -"Is it going to be the same this week? What does it worry you if a -woman kills herself at the tub while you snore there all day? Look at -Boulder, Bloxham and Bullock bin up half-an-hour, I reckon, runnin' -round for their wives. And women come to me and say--'My! Mrs. Niven, -you looks very poorly lately,--and I got to say the heat has took -me dreadful, but it's runnin' after you, lifting tubs of water, and -scratching on a wood-heap for wood that isn't there that done it." - -Boulder, Bloxham and Johnson are rising up elsewhere. - -Through the morning is great bustle and to-do, a filling of pitchers, -a lifting of buckets, a running in and out of the sun to open-air -fireplaces, a prodding of clothes in coppers with sticks, wringings, -beatings, rinsings, re-wringings. The morning is gone as soon as begun. - -By noonday whistle the clothes are spread on line and bush and fallen -log; and Mrs. Bullock, Mrs. Niven and Mrs. Boulder, rather short of -breath, and distinctly short of speech, are dishing up the dinner -a minute or two late. Coming home from the mine it is well to be -discreet. Sitting down to lunch at Mrs. Simpson's bush boarding-house I -talk very small on these occasions. - -The wash dries early at Surprise and by three o'clock Mrs. Bullock, -Mrs. Niven and Mrs. Boulder are abroad again plucking the strange -things down. When the whistle blows at five o'clock the irons are put -by and the heaviest day of the week is over. - -On Mondays they wash, and on Mondays by another law, the men go forth -in clean clothes. If you are one to notice such things, you can tell -the week in the month by the shirts going to work. Mr. Carroll, -timekeeper, is especially regular this way. First and third Mondays -bring him to the office in blue tie and white trousers with an iron -mould in the seat; second and fourth Mondays show him in spotted tie -and blue trousers weary at the knees. Simpson, the butcher, clips his -moustache every first Sunday in the month, and changes from a man of -walrus appearance to a brigand with shabby brown teeth. - -But every day of the month the single boot-last of Surprise is in -demand, as one or other person sits down with a pair of half-soles from -the store to patch his boots against the ill-humours of the stones. - -Now and then of a morning, between breakfast wash-up and the midday -cooking, Mrs. Bullock, Mrs. Niven and Mrs. Simpson slip across to the -store for a packet of this or that, and any news that may be running -round. It happens often that luck chooses them the same ten minutes; -and Mrs. Boulder and Mrs. Bloxham may be passing by just then. Mr. -Wells, storeman, agile and anxious, very quick at a piece of news, very -slow at totting up an account, puts hands wide on the counter and -gives a brisk "Good morning. Turned dreadful hot, Mrs. Simpson. Looks -like summer come at last." - -"It do," says Mrs. Simpson, casting an eye about the place. - -Mrs. Bullock, leaning far across the counter, takes a look behind the -scenes; and Mrs. Niven, standing a little out of the press, lifts her -hat upon her head, drops it down again and makes speech. - -"I was took bad agen last night before bed. This is no place for a -woman, I tell you that short. I'll take another box of pills, same as -last." - -"All gone, Mrs. Niven," says Mr. Wells, bringing his hands off the -counter with a jump and shaking his head. "Not a box or bottle of -medicine nearer than Morning Springs. The last lot was very popular. -There'll be something else with the next team sure." - -"You never do have a thing in when it's wanted; that's speaking -straight," joins in Mrs. Boulder, leaning farther over the counter. -"I'll have that packet of spices down there. It's the last there is, I -dare say, and a pound of tea and two of matches, and that's all." - -"Good morning, Mrs. Bloxham. Good morning, Mrs. Boulder." - -"Good morning. Good morning. Good morning." - -"I was took bad agen last night before bed," says Mrs. Niven, "and now -I come here and find not a dose of anything in the store. This is no -land for a woman, I say, and I've said it before, and I wouldn't be -surprised if I say it again." - -"Well, Mrs. Boulder," says Mrs. Simpson, "is it true Mr. Regan won't -give Kerrisk any bread since they had the row two day back? I heard -something about it, but couldn't make a story of it. Seeing that you -came across that way, I thought you might have heard." - -"Small things don't worry me," says Mrs. Boulder, of stately and severe -aspect. "Live and let live when you're out these ways is what's to do. -I heard something last night of someone here that would be a shame to -repeat." - -"Mrs. Boulder?" comes the chorus. - -"Mr. Wells, when it comes to my turn I'll have five of sugar and a pair -of bootlaces, and see that it's a better pair than last. They didn't -stay whole two days," continues Mrs. Boulder. - -"Mrs. Boulder, what was that you heard tell?" - -"It would do better with keeping, Mrs. Simpson. Mr. Wells, that was a -beautiful tune you played last night. Yes, Mrs. Simpson, my news would -do better with keeping, but we're all friends here. Well I heard say -Mr. King over at the office there was doing a deal too much running up -and down to the river lately. It don't take much guessing to know what -that means." - -"Quite likely, Mrs. Boulder. And he isn't the only one, I dare say. -Leaving him, what do you reckon brought them two at the house up to -these parts for? Selwyn the name is. Come from Melbourne, I hear. I -heard say he was one of the heads of the Company, though I wouldn't go -much on him doing a day's work." - -"No need, Mrs. Simpson. That sort only wear white collars and sit round -a table and talk big. Mrs. Nankervis, the cook up there, told me he and -Mrs. don't hit it off, not a bit. She says it's a fact." - -"When is the girl and Mr. Power from Kaloona comin' to a point? He's -kept her waiting long enough." - -"They say he's not too keen, but she's keeping him to it." - -"There's no telling, Mrs. Bloxham. The old man would find a change -looking after himself. I wouldn't be surprised if he looked round on -his own account then. They say he was pretty gay thirty year back. Back -for home agen, Mrs. Boulder? Good morning to you. My turn now, Mr. -Wells." - -They open up the office between eight and nine of a morning, and Mr. -King, accountant, pushes up the window before finding his seat behind -the table at the far end; while Mr. Carroll, timekeeper, a mild elderly -man, takes the broom from behind the door and meekly strokes the floor -from end to end. He, too, then finds his seat. The day's work begins -pleasantly, with not undue wear and tear, as is the genial custom at -Surprise. The satisfying swish of ledger pages and the scratch of -pens are all the sounds to wake the spiders in their webs in the high -corners. - -But ruder sounds will break that cloistral peace. Old Neville, stick in -hand, the first pipe of the day in his clutch, steps down that way from -breakfast on most mornings of the week as a start on the daily round. - -"Hey!" cries he, waving his stick in at the doorway of a sudden, "What -sawn timber have we on hand?" - -Mr. King, at his ledger at the far end, thinks a long moment and makes -answer. "They had the last from the store a week ago. There's nothing -on the place until the next waggon is in." - -Half-way down, Mr. Carroll, at his time sheets, feels his chin and -deprecates the whole affair. - -"There's not a team due for three week. Someone is a fool on the lease, -and he'll not be far from here. You'd have the place stuck up between -the lot of you." - -"I made a memo we were running out a month back," says Mr. King, very -even tempered, and twisting his moustache a little. "They have got -through that last lot very soon." - -"Robson is a fool," breaks in the old man, wagging his head and coming -into the office. "I'll put him to the right-about pretty quick one of -these mornings. Goodness! Look under the shelf there. You've a colony -of white ants come. Ye'd have the place eaten down. Carroll, get the -kerosene, and give it them right away. Are you on anything that won't -keep, King? I'm going underground in a few minutes. Ye might come along -and see what's become of that sawn timber. You'll find Mrs. Robson has -told Robson to board her kitchen with it. I'll have it up agen, if I -handle the crowbar myself. I may be wrong, huh! huh!" - -"It gets hot early in the morning now," says Mr. King, rising slowly, -and leaning across to the wall for his hat. - -When you take the left-hand pathway at the office door, which leads -towards the poppet-legs standing up stiff half-a-mile away, and the -firewood stacks near the engine-house--when you take this path, you -begin to pass by much of interest. Mrs. Boulder camps here, and stands -at her doorway to remark who goes down the red path. Beyond her camp -two bachelors, beneath a sheet of calico on poles. Two stretchers stand -there, two boxes for seats, and among some ashes outside is a forked -stick thrust into the ground on which a billy hangs. - -Farther on--and on the right hand--Mr. Pericles Smith, travelling -schoolmaster, occasionally pitches his tent for his monthly stay. By -six or seven o'clock of an evening, after tea has been cleared away, -he sits in the first tent for all the world to see, getting forward -with his monumental work on the aboriginal languages of Australia. -Sometimes, indeed, he is otherwise employed. - -"Did you remember about the currants when you came by the store?" says -a woman's voice. - -"That must be indeed delightful, dear," murmurs Mr. Smith, turning over -the page. - -"You might listen sometimes. I said, did you----" - -"Instantly, dear." - -"I said, did you----" - -Mr. Smith leaps from his seat on the box. "What is it? What is it? What -is it? Goat in or out? Kettle on or off the boil? Wood chopped or wood -not chopped? Here I am. What was it? What is it? What will it be? Let -us do it all now before I sit down again." - -"You are so disagreeable lately, dear. I hardly dare speak to you." - -Mr. Smith closes his eyes. "What is it?" - -"I said, did you remember the currants?" - -"A bar of soap, a packet of candles, three pounds of rice, and currants -if they have them. No, dear, I forgot, but I shall do so shortly." He -finds his seat again, wearily. "I was at the most important place in -the chapter. Now I must find the threads again." - -Silence falls. "I think from the look of the sky there's going to be -another hot day to-morrow, dear." - -"I have done so, I am doing so, and I am about to do so again," murmurs -Mr. Smith, putting out a hand for Mathew on "Eaglehawk and Crow." - -Farther yet along the road there stands a house of hessian roof and -walls--of a moulting appearance, and yet faintly genteel as houses are -considered out this way. It stands a little apart and a little up the -hill as though it has not grown used to the vulgar neighbours of the -hollow. Within are two rooms with floors of earth beaten flat; but the -path, beginning at the doorway, is paved with red stones. There is a -pen built of wooden palings at the back, where a goat despairs out loud -all night, and near it the clothes-line sags from tree to tree waiting -for the throat of the foolish. They hang the washing at the back of -this house, lest Philistine eyes spy upon it. - -Morning by morning, about nine o'clock, Mr. Horrington, general agent -of Surprise, may be found on the red stone path in his shirt sleeves, -blinking eyes in the sunlight. It would seem he finds the new day less -depressing thus begun. An ungracious liver, a treacherous purse, an -invalid wife and Surprise to look on through the year--these things are -not pleasant to reflect on when a man has left fifty behind some years -ago. - -Every morning Mr. Horrington stands here blinking in the sunlight while -the weakly tread of Mrs. Horrington in the kitchen jars unkindly on -reflection. Every evening he stands here while the sun goes down, a -little melancholy, it may be also a little muddled in thought. To hear -once more the shuffling of Mrs. Horrington must surely not sooth a -spirit on edge. If women can spin out work through a whole day, is it -good taste insisting a man should know it? - -He stands on the red steps when Mr. Neville and Mr. King go by at -nine o'clock of the morning, blinking, very drooped at the moustache, -hunting up a full pipe of tobacco from the corners of a pouch. - -"Hey, Horrington, no business this morning?" and Mr. Horrington, -waking, finds his hat and stick and joins the walkers at the road. - -"You are along early to-day, Mr. Neville, and you too, Mr. King. I -discover I have run a bit short of tobacco until I can find the time to -get down to the store. How about a pipeful? Thanks, Mr. King. It is a -pleasure to taste again the stuff you smoke. What they sell here comes -hard on a trained palate." - -Old Neville brings his head round to listen. - -"It's an extraordinary thing about women," goes on Mr. Horrington, -planting his stick in the dust as he marches, and keeping his eyes on -the toes of his boots which lean up in sympathy. "It's an extraordinary -thing, which you must have noticed, that a woman will give you a -hammer and a couple of odd-sized nails, send you to the wood-heap and -say--'Produce me Saint Paul's Cathedral.'" - -"Did you ever do it for them?" says the old man. "How's your wife? -Is she standing the heat better this year? Maud will be along this -afternoon, she was saying." - -"My wife will be glad to see her. She gets too lonely there with me -engaged away all day. I don't think she is going to be a bit better -this year than last. Every day she finds a new complaint. Last night -she had a pain in the back brought on by the washing. Mrs. Niven -gave her some iodine, and I painted her before bed. This morning she -says she can taste the iodine. Really, I have sympathized myself to a -standstill." - -You reach the first of the firewood stacks, and as you shun it on the -right, a path leans to the left hand to the main path and wanders a -little downhill and across the flat to the hotel. Along this path Mr. -Horrington branches every morning. - -Mr. Robson, underground manager, stands by the engine shed, scratching -his chest reflectingly with a slow, lank hand. He is tall and narrow -and dreary-looking, with a big round hat like a halo on his head, and -a lean tuft of beard at his chin. He comes to life with a jerk as Mr. -Neville and Mr. King round the corner of the firewood stack. - -"Mr. King says you had the last of the sawn timber a week back, and -there's not another foot of it on the place. What have ye done with it, -man?" shouts Neville from the distance. - -Mr. Robson grows taller and leaner, and jerks his body at many angles -and plucks his beard, and nearly stirs himself to anger and immediately -grows meek again. "That's gone re-timbering the bottom of the shaft. -There's a lot of work done there, and there wasn't much timber." - -"There was timber, I tell you. Mr. King says so too. You let the men -take it from you to build their camps with. You are a fool. You'll have -to wake up. Look at that feller in the engine house! If he goes on -spilling grease like that he'll have the Company bankrupt." - -"Mr. King," says Mr. Robson, as the old man trots round the engine -house wall, "I won't be spoken to like that. I've stood enough of it, I -have. Mr. Neville will have to choose his words better from now on, or -things will be doing. One more word like the last from him and----" - -"Hi, Robson, what's this? Gracious, man, were you born with eyes shut?" - -"Coming, Mr. Neville," cries Mr. Robson, crumpling up into a run. - -And so the day wears on at Surprise; and the seven days go round and -make the week; the four weeks add up into the month. Seven summer -months and five months of winter walk in close procession until the -year has turned a circle. The cry of the new-born child may startle the -camp, and Mrs. Bullock, Mrs. Boulder and Mrs. Niven will repair to the -scene with kind hearts and right good will, that pangs may be lessened -in the hour of trial. The dead man may be laid in his red grave among -the saplings on the hill, and the clock will stop an hour that brief -blessing may be read. The birds sing and love make in their season. -Fever comes with burning hand in its season. And thus and thus the days -spin out. - -Little lonely camp, set down to war with the wilderness, not much -longer must you keep guard unaided. Presently across the plain the -first thin railway line will come, and with it will arrive timid -spirits who dared not leave such things behind. They shall make and -re-make, hammer and twist you, giving you food to grow out and out. -Your roofs shall glint in the sun, your streets shall be set with -gardens; the hum of traffic shall be your voice going up to the wide -skies. Little shabby camp, swelling presently into a great city, in the -long years which wait for you, when you have grown great and weary and -sick, it may be you will peer back into the past and covet forgotten -days. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -HOW THE DAYS PASS BY AT KALOONA - - -The long days of early summer went by on Kaloona Station. While the -last stars were leaving the sky, Jackie, the black horse-tailer, let -down the slip-rails of the house paddock and cantered into the dusk, -whip in hand, the sound of his horse dying slowly and solemnly in -the distance. The stars would faint, the first glow of dawn would -spread behind the trees upon the river, one or two birds would tune -their throats a little while. Light would grow. Presently, advancing -horse-bells cried across the distance, Jackie's whip banged out in the -stillness, and the thud of many hoofs striking the ground rumbled from -afar. With a brave chiming of bells, the horses would come home. - -Mrs. Elliott, the cook, and Maggie, the maid of all other work, arose -betimes on these long days. There was much to do. Mr. Power would come -looking for breakfast; breakfast called for a lighted fire. There was -the woodbox to visit, and horrid little Scandalous Jack to dress down -should it be empty. Mrs. Elliott, ample and beaming, and very gay when -you knew her well, pushed her stout leg from the sheets of a morning -while the world was still grey. "Come on, Meg; it's time we was moving." - -The place was well awake when the sun looked over the edge of the -plain; a clatter going forward in the kitchen, the parrots whistling in -their cage by the window, the gins yabbering at the doorway of their -hut, the voices of men raised down at the yards. There Power gave -O'Neill the orders for the day, and Scandalous Jack moved everywhere, -full of importance and loud talk. The horses stood in the yard, and a -man or two went about the morning feed. - -Kaloona stands upon the river in a noble stretch of timbered country. -The timber shelters the homestead on three sides, and falls back to the -brink of the water. At high noon on a summer day you will find cool -places under the trees where a man may lie in fair content. There is -always a bird or two flitting among the boughs, with a bright call in -his bill. - -Very fair grows Kaloona by moonshine or by starshine on summer nights; -the water sleeping, the night loud with insect voices, the sound of -splashes in the shadows. - -Summer finds it a fair spot; but winter brings it loveliness with both -hands. The breath of the frost comes down at night, and sends a man -abroad at dawn blowing his fingers, and throwing an eye to the East -for the lie-a-bed sun. It comes at last, big and red, tumbling over -the country in long jolly beams. Now in tree and bush begin the birds, -calling, whistling, crying, mocking. The pelican is pouting his breast -in the river, and the spoonbill shovels in the mud. - -After breakfast comes the saddling up, and many a clever rider can lose -his seat when the frost is in the air and the young horses leave the -yards. - -Spring is nigh as lovely. The parrot flashes his colours in the sun, -the bright-breasted finches swing in the bushes. The slim black -cockatoo sweeps overhead, and the sulphur-crest screams in the high -branches. A fair spot is Kaloona by the river. - -Life has ups and downs there. Much work there is to do sometimes--hard -days in the saddle, with short rations now and then, and a bed at -the end under the sky. Slack times come in their turn, when the -hours arrive empty-handed--and those first long summer days, when -the musterers had come back from Morning Springs, supplied little -employment after the bustle round in the morning. It was the season -for a man to look about and put himself in repair; mend his whip, teach -his dog manners, patch his boots and the like. When the sun was in the -middle of the sky, and the iron roofs of the homestead and the huts -cracked out loud in the heat, a man could lie on his back and smoke a -pipe, and so find content until evening. - -It was never Power's way to hang about the homestead, unless work kept -him there; but some evil spell had fallen on him these latter times, -causing him to prowl at home at idle end. He grew crotchety these -days, hard to please and poorly pleased even when things were well. -There were mornings when he saddled a horse and rode over to Surprise, -returning as gloomy as he went, and again, as evening came on, he rode -away, leaving those behind him to guess his errand. - -"Mrs. Elliott," said Maggie one breakfast, putting her hands to her -hips and talking very straight, "the boss has turned cranky of a -sudden. There's no getting yes or no out of him. It's no good to me. -I'll be letting fly." - -Mrs. Elliott gave answer. "Don't be in a flurry, Meg. All men are -alike. They get took that way now and then. They're as hard to get -forward sometimes as a full-mouthed ewe in the dipping yards. Don't -be too quick on him yet. Maybe he's fell out with Miss Neville at -Surprise, and is in the sulks." - -Unlucky Scandalous pushed his face through the kitchen doorway. "What's -come to the boss of a sudden? He's as cross-grained as you like. Took -it out of me just now because he reckoned the place was untidy down -there." - -"And a good thing too," said Mrs. Elliott, turning sharp about. "If you -spent more time on the woodheap, instead of sneaking up here minding -other people's business, you might be took up less often." - -One morning at breakfast, when Mrs. Elliott had bustled to put -something special on the table and had not had "Good morning" for her -pains, as Power sat gloomy, despising his food and chewing thought, she -took him to task. - -"Mr. Power," she said, putting down a new cup of tea, and taking up a -stand before him, "what's come on you that you give up the horses and -stand twiddling your thumbs?" - -"There's no work outside." - -"That's the first time that's ever been. What are them horses doing in -and out of the yards every day, and not a leg put across them?" - -"It's too hot to ride about for nothing." - -"Nothing? The best horses in the country hanging their heads because -nothing doing? I never heard of a run which wasn't the better for -looking after. Do you know what they say at Surprise? They say Simpson -gets half his meat uncommon cheap, so cheap that it only takes him a -quiet ride at times when Kaloona's asleep to fill his yards for the -morning. They say he is a quicker man at hiding a branded beast than -any feller on Kaloona is at finding one." - -"I've heard that story. He doesn't get many, and he'll drop in in good -time." - -But Mrs. Elliott had her way, though, like a wise woman, she raised -no flag of victory. Breakfast over, Power found the way to the yards, -caught a horse, saddled it, took a waterbag, some midday tucker and a -whip, and rode away at a foot pace across the plain. He spent all day -in far places, leaving the homestead when the sun was low, and finding -himself several miles away from home when the sun again was climbing -down the sky. He never pushed his horse beyond walking pace, but -neither did he rest it; and many miles were put behind before the day -was done. He passed from point to point, wherever there was water or -a clustering of timber, wherever there was chance of coming up with a -mob of cattle. He knew that wide country as another man knows the floor -of his office, and when he wished kept course as the arrow flies. Once -or twice he drew taut the rein, and stared at faint prints upon the -ground; and such halt might bring change of direction. He spent the -middle of the day on his back in a fair clump of timber, but saddled up -again while the sun was far up in the sky. - -He judged it to be five o'clock at last, and he was still an hour's -ride from home. He was heated to his bones by the long journey in the -sun, the coat of his horse was curled with sweat; he was jaded, fagged -and thirsty. - -He took his hat from his head, and pushed it between the surcingle and -the saddle. The sun was losing strength at last; a breeze was finding -the way from the South. His shadow and his horse's shadow were growing -longer; the crickets were tuning their orchestra against the evening, -but in spite of their shrill cries, the plain, which had been hushed -all day, had grown more hushed. - -He looked again at the sun, which was a bare half-hour from its going -down. The red glare dazzled him, and when he dropped his eyes, the -white stones on the ground changed to blue. He looked up to get the -light from his eyes, and found he was passing under the crag of one -of those sudden hills which climb high out of the plain all over that -country. It stood above him, lofty, sheer and lonely, grass-covered for -a hundred feet of the journey, thence forward to the summit, piled -with immense bare boulders, carrying a few shrunken trees. - -Looking up, a freak of mind urged him to stand on the highest point -there. He slacked rein and got to the ground. A bush stood convenient -to hand to secure the horse. He took off the saddle, and rubbed away -the saddle mark. Then he turned for the ascent. - -The hill lifted up abruptly from the plain, several hundred feet -towards the sky. There was no gentle slope of beginning, and Power -began a heavy clamber over giant boulders, shabbily clad with coarse -clumps of grass. Immense fat spiders watched him from the middle of -giant webs strung from rock to rock, lizards and insects hurried in -and out of crevices, and shrill voices of crickets met him from above, -and came after him from below. The southern breeze was bolder as the -journey advanced. Half way up the steep, where the grassed boulders -ended and the bare rock began, he stood still for new breath. Already -he had gained a strange world, high out of the plain, and the horse was -far and puny, among the tumbled rocks, which broke like surf at the -foot of the hill. - -The summit was high above him yet. He began the journey again, using -his hands as well as feet for the last pinch. He was on top at last--a -broad, flat space, where a little grass and a few bushes grew, with a -patch or two of fine sand among the tumble of rocks. On three sides the -hill fell down in steep faces, up one of which he had climbed; but to -the South it dropped sheer in a hundred foot precipice to grassed rocks -piled up to meet it. Because the sheerness of the fall fascinated, and -because that way the breeze blew steadily into his face, Power sat down -on the edge of the cliff, with the sun sinking on his right hand. - -He who was so used to great distances was filled with wonder and -delight. He stared from his high seat. He looked upon an ocean torn up -in storm; but it was larger than the seas of his travels. The waves -of this ocean were hills cast up from the lap of the plain, as the -sea wave is scooped high up by the rage of winds. The resemblance was -exact. The country swept up and down for miles and tens of miles, -everywhere heaping up its waves and striking them immovable as they -leant to their fall. The mellow light of evening turned the bare -pasture into ocean green. Only was lacking the grind and swish of -waters in rage. It was ocean conceived by giant mind and struck still -by giant hand. - -Presently, as the first wonder passed away, Power took the details -into his eye. It was not all green country on closer look. There were -patches of grey and patches of slate where the long sunbeams fell on -tall rock faces. There were veins of shining white quartz pushing from -the ground, hinting at unknown copper, which one day would be torn from -its hiding place. There were red patches of bare earth, which the green -seas were seeking to devour. There were greens and greener greens, but, -look ever so long, the effect of ocean remained. - -It was far down there to the foot of the precipice and to the top of -the rocks; and there were other rocky places infinitely farther down, -as though making part of another world. Dwarf trees sucked a living -from them, and the sunbeams stole the roughness from their face. They -would be warm to the touch. At the mouth of every cleft and cave sat -a wallaby with pricked ears and black face, performing toilet before -moving abroad for the night. Sometimes the little beast sat on a point -of rock, holding paws neatly before him, squinting at the sun and -turning suddenly to nip his back. Not one took notice of the strange -man who watched from so far above. - -Power was high up--high up. The tops of all those other hills were -nearer earth than he. There was nothing between him and the sky. Two -or three small birds, black with white tags to their tails, skimmed to -and fro overhead and twittered cheerily. Other birds were fluttering -and squabbling in the bushes, as though this hill was their nightly -bedchamber. Strange and happy thing a bird; able to choose its walks -on mountain or in meadow, able at will to breast fierce winds of high -places, or pipe a lay in gentle noontide bower. Strange and happy thing -a bird to throw care away, clap wings and seek new worlds. - -Power was high up--high up, and only these skimming birds between him -and the sky. He had left the world behind him when he took in hand the -climb; but like a fool he had brought his bag of care slung upon a -shoulder. He had forgotten it a minute or two when first he looked from -here; but now he found it again, full stuffed to the throat. - -How would this struggle end? Was he soon to perish in a tempest of -longing and self-hate? Was this thing called love? Did love stop the -clock of a man's day, and leave him to wag his hands like a dotard in -the chimney corner?... - -Look again and again--the idea of ocean stayed with this wide scene. -For miles and tens of miles the waters heaped and fell. He had seen the -resemblance always, whenever he looked from one of the hilltops, and -the sight had pleased before. Now it annoyed. Why so? Easy the answer. -Torn sails and a banging rudder--a rage of winds and a lee shore--a -frowning night and an unknown port--that was a man's life.... - -The breeze was strong and cool up here--steady, straight-blowing from -the South. It passed across the hill and went on its way. The sun was -hurrying westward. Ah, to snatch wings from these skimming birds, and -ride with the breeze, or hurry on the heels of the sun as it brought -morning to new lands.... - -The sun was aged and kindly now; the great country was hushed. The -birds were at their good-night hymn, the insects accompanied it from -the ground. The little furry animals below were leaping from their -dens, and stretching limbs in the warmth. Peace everywhere but in -him. Fool! there was no peace down there. The birds made glad song as -they made supper; but what of the flies they hunted down? And were -those little beasts below better off? Somewhere the dingo yawned; and -the python waited at the waterhole. They might not all return in the -morning. What was happening to the tiny things which found a world in -the grasses and under the stones? Peace? It was like some fair face -from which you tore the loveliness to discover the skull behind.... - -The little black birds had flown away leaving him alone there. The -other birds in the bushes had given up their squabbles. In a minute -the sun would touch the horizon, and the sky would drink of his last -glances. There would be a brief darkening before the stars leapt into -their places. But he sat on, unready of purpose.... - -Why had he chosen to war with great forces? What was he better than a -herder of cattle, with few thoughts beyond the needs of the day? Such -terrors were gathered against him as might have assailed a prophet of -olden time, scowling at the mouth of his cavern. - -There was a soul in the body, or why did he deny the pleadings of the -body? There was a soul in each body which endured while its house -rusted, a light burning steadily in a chamber While a storm outside -beat and aged the walls. Yet he could not deny the body to aid the soul. - -His love for this young girl was like a great wind passing through a -house, clashing and clanging casements and doors. If he sheltered from -it assuredly he would perish. He would soon be ill in body as now he -was sick in mind. One hour a night he rode down to the Pool, and for -that one hour he endured the day. - -She was making him mad. She walked with him on tops of mountains. She -led him by the hand into cavernous places awful with lightnings. She -sat on the lips of Spring, dropping blossoms through her fingers. She -was a perfume from the East. She was a wine from a land of grapes. The -dreams of a world looked from her eyes. The passions of a world waited -on her lips.... - -The sun had set and but a minute of time gone. In another such instant -darkness would have dashed a mantle round the earth, and the stars -would have leapt out of the sky. The way to the bottom was stony. He -must be home.... - -Day had done its business and departed, and he sat wringing hands as it -rushed away. Not again--if he would call himself man to-morrow. - -Good-bye. It had a hollow sound. Good-bye--never again to see her. To -ride no more the road to the river. To forget October brought blossoms -to the castor-oil tree. To clap shut his ears when her voice called.... - -The descent was rougher than the climb. Was he bruising his hands -because the day had darkened, or because dark had come down on his -hope?... - -Once more to saddle his horse. Once more to take the road to the Pool. -Once to say good-bye. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -THE PARTING BY THE POOL - - -Now his mind was made up, he felt weakness leave him. Trouble never -nagged when there was work to do. The horse waited to be saddled at -the bottom of the hill, which task he did with the speed of long -custom. He had chosen for the day's work the little chestnut mare which -carried him from Surprise the night he met Moll Gregory. He had chosen -well, for she was staunch and willing--without airs and fancies. Once -he turned her towards the river, she held the way like a prim Miss -travelling to school. - -The sky was green as he came down the hill; colour faded from it; -darkness fell upon the whole country. The stars took their places in -the sky, and began the slow turning which he had watched so many years -now that they told him the month and the hour as might a clock. - -The breeze had lessened to a tremble as he climbed down to the -plain, and the night clapped a warm breath upon him. Distant summer -lightnings flicked across the lower skies. The feet of the stepping -mare trod evenly upon the pebbles and on the bare earth. He chose her -often for the day's work because of the speed of her walk; but to-night -she seemed turned sluggard to enrage him. Yet the road was falling -behind. The hill he had climbed was far over his shoulder. The Conical -Hill of Surprise had risen on the horizon. Now the green belt of timber -was hinted at a few miles ahead. Now he saw it with distinctness. -Thought took hold of him again until he found himself in the desolate -strip of country where the floods ran in the rains. The warm night was -wrapped about him. Crickets shrilled everywhere. Several times sounded -the thump of startled kangaroos. Lightnings flickered without pause -above the outline of the hills. It seemed to him he was part of great -music working in crescendo. - -Here was the Pool. He knew it was the Pool; but it was too dark to -discover the waters. She lived here. He would see her in a few moments. -He would see her. He would see her in a moment. He lived through the -long day that he might see her a little while in the night. He would -see her again when this slow beast had trodden a little farther. - -Suddenly he grew cold with such a greediness of cold as the passion of -the tropic night could not appease. He had come to say good-bye. In -half-an-hour he would be moving away from the Pool, nevermore while -she lived there to ride that way. He could not do that. No, not he. He -was but a man. His shaking body was a man's body. He was unworthy to -be battleground of contending right and wrong. Not to-night. He could -not make an end to-night. To-morrow, but not to-day.... A moment ago -he rode by the beginning of the Pool, and now he passed the castor-oil -tree. The trees were breaking apart. There stood the hut and the tents. - -From a chaos of fancies he presently took hold upon realization. In the -doorway of the hut, looking towards him through the dark, stood Moll -Gregory. Lamplight from inside passed her and pierced the night with a -long beam. She held an empty basin in her hands. The dark was clear to -him who had ridden half-a-dozen miles through it; but she looked before -her in a puzzled way. - -"Is that you, Mr. Power?" - -"Yes, Molly." - -He believed he shook when he spoke to her. She was a draught of water, -chilled by snows from high peaks, offered into the hands of a dying -man. How she impassioned the night with her loveliness. He would never -find her beauty staling, though he looked on her for ever. All the -moments of a day brought new emotions watching from her eyes, new -passions sitting upon her lips. He never knew how holy beauty might be -until he looked upon her. How the light shone on her brown hair, lying -coiled on her head and brooding round her brows. - -He found he had pulled up the mare in the doorway. - -"I've come to see you, Molly." - -Why did she not answer, instead of standing like that, tapping the -basin on her knee and looking first at him, and then away, and then -at him again? Did she understand at last he loved her? Another man -kneeling in homage to her. She was frowning a little bit. He found -himself dismounting. The dog, grown friendly now, came forward with -waving tail. The hut was empty. - -"Mum and Dad went over to the shaft a while back," she said just then. -"There's nobody here." - -He led the mare a little way away; tethered her; unsaddled her. She -drooped her head after the day's work. Another hour he would have led -her to drink; but now where was the time? - -The girl had gone indoors when he returned to the hut. She stood by -the table putting the crockery into the basin. The room was heavy with -heat. The lamp wick was untrimmed, smoking a little and lending a -needy light. Nothing was changed. - -"Them is to wash up," she said. - -He was living again, standing thus beside her. Yet he was weary with -knowledge that he waited on her for the last time. He grew entranced -with her quick hands in the basin. She nodded her head to the dish-rag -hanging on the wall. He took it and faced her across the table, and -together they began to wash up. - -He knew then that whatever waited for him in the long years to be lived -before he became an old man--whether there were other women to meet -and other lands to travel--these moments he was living now would walk -with him in memory to the very shadow of the grave. That strange mood -visited him, which sometimes comes to a man, when he stands out of -himself and views the scene as onlooker. He peered into future years, -when Maud and he journeyed kindly down the road together, and the worst -wounds of this summer madness were crusted over. But he knew there -would be hours when certain winds blew, or certain scents drifted out -of the scrub, or certain words were spoken, when he must go apart a -little while until memory slept again. - -The mood passed as instantly as it arrived, and once more he stood -before her weary and miserable. She would tire of a glum face soon. -He had carried a long face lately when they walked together. Beauty -she, and he the Beast. Strangely she had passed it by. She was still -wilful and careless, yet now she had moods when she was thoughtful and -a little kind. Never was she heavy-hearted; though to-night she frowned -just a little and was as silent as himself. He heard a rattle of cups. -Within his heart--growing and growing with the moments--feeling was -in torrent, until it seemed excess in him must overflow and fill her -barren little heart. They chanced to look up at one moment from their -work--up and out at the door--and a great white star fell down the sky. - -"Do you know what people say, Molly? Every falling star is a soul -hurrying from earth." She shrugged shoulders with faintest movement. "I -think a man's soul dies, Molly, when hope dies. Perhaps some man's hope -has died to-night." - -For an instant she turned wide grave eyes upon him, then she went back -to work, moving her hands deftly in and out of the basin. - -"Molly, you could get along without me, couldn't you? If I had to go -away for a while and could not come back, you would not be lonely with -other friends to look after you. You have been a good little comrade -to me; but I think our friendship was not meant to die of old age. -You could get along without me, couldn't you--and Molly, you wouldn't -forget me just at first?" - -"No, Mister." - -"I asked you not to call me Mister. Say Jim." - -"No, Jim." - -She had finished washing up. She went out into the dark and threw away -the water. She found a second cloth, and began quickly to dry the cups -he had lingered over. - -"You aren't so slick to-night," she said. "You are pretty slick at this -kind of thing for a man." - -"I was round the run to-day. I came here from across the other side. -The Pool is shrinking fast, Molly." - -"The rains should be here, Christmas." - -"It might be a pool of love, and all the drinks men take from it shrink -its rim. Molly, are you as clever as you pretend at forgetting? If -something happens, so that I come no more to the Pool--when you go -alone to fish or when you go with others, will you remember that once -or twice you fished with me?" - -"You aren't to go away. Sometimes I think you couldn't." - -The work was done. She turned with a graceful movement of her body as -she said the last words, and was putting the cups and saucers on the -shelf, and the spoons with a rattle into a box. - -"Hang up the cloth, Jim, and wake up. You aren't always asleep. I heard -something about you yesterday. They say you are such a daddy man with -horses that when you camped out Brolga way, the brumbies came down from -off Mount Sorrowful to sing to you. Ah, Mister, I have got you smiling." - -"I'm not Mister." - -"Jim." - -Silence fell again, and once more he grew conscious of the little -sounds that accompanied the flight of time--the flutter of wings round -a lamp; the swish of a girl's dress; the cries of insects from the -dark. It was like standing by a river filled to both banks, which -swept swiftly and smoothly to the sea, and hearing the small voices of -multitudinous waters.... What did she say now? - -"I found them specimens this morning. They was a little higher up the -bank. Do you want to see them? They aren't far." - -"We went to find them the first day I came here, Molly. Do you -remember? It does not matter now. I shall remember we never found them. -Come outside. I have a lot to say to-night. It will be cooler there, -and talking is easier under the trees." - -Then he found himself walking among the trees. She was on his right -hand, and water glimmered in the distance. Summer lightnings were -flickering in the skies. This night was as last night had been. Last -night was as the night before had been. He could not believe they -walked together for the last time. Yet Time moved out here, and Death -found work to do. A clumsy beetle had blundered out of the dark, -finding harbourage upon her fair hand. She had crushed it with a little -blow, and the body had fallen in the grasses to wait the busybody ants. -How much was starting and finishing just now over all the wide world? - -They passed up the Pool with only a word or two spoken between them, -searching the water when the fishes jumped, listening to the creatures -pushing through the undergrowth, staying to look at strips of water -starred with white lilies. Her sober mood passed away as they went on. -Wantonly she dropped to her knees and gathered up twigs to cast into -the water. He heard her laughter in the dark like a peal of low bells. -Then he found they had reached the end of the Pool, and the hut was far -away. - -"Molly, this is the end. The water finishes here. I have something to -tell you. Are you listening, Molly? It only takes a moment to say. -Good-bye. That's a strange word, isn't it? Have you heard it before? -Well, to-night we are saying good-bye." - -Until the word was spoken he felt he might never need to say it; but -now it was said, and the night had turned deaf ears on his call for -mercy. He saw her plainly in the dark standing before him petrified, in -all her wonderful beauty, alert as though about to flee, with her great -eyes wide open looking at him. She had clasped her hands together in -front of her. - -"What's took you now, Mr. Power? No, stay there. I can hear where I am." - -"Don't start, Molly ... I have something to tell you.... I didn't mean -to tell you. But why not tell you?" - -"Stay there, Mister. Don't look like that. I don't want to know. Let's -go home. Don't look like that. You----" - -"Stop your sweet chatter, Molly. Listen, I say. I love you. I am -starving for want of you. Feel my hand, Molly. It trembles like the -hand Of a man in fever. Feel it, I say." - -"Mister!" - -"I am burning. I am burning inside and out. Let me touch your hand. -Give me your hand a moment to cool me. Give it to me, I say." - -"Mr. Power, don't make me cry. I don't----" - -"I am going away. Do you hear me. I am going away never to see you -again. Other men are to have your kisses. Your bosom is to beat on the -breasts of other men. My lips shall go unwashed. My heart shall thump -in an empty drum. Do you hear me?" - -"Don't talk so loud, Mr. Power. Don't look like that. Mr. Power, don't -come so near. Please, Mister; please!" - -"I am going away, Molly. I told you that, didn't I, just now? I have -come to see you for the last time. I have--Molly, all the fires of -heaven and hell are lighted in your eyes. You are doomed to live -burning men's hopes to ashes. Molly, the breeze is in your hair. It -flutters there, as your little soul flutters somewhere in your lovely -body. Let me touch your hair once--oh, so softly it shall be. Once." - -"Mister!" - -"Once." - -"Mister!" - -She was in his arms. He never remembered how they came together. But -all the parched streams of spirit and body were loosed in a flood -of waters. He was kissing her lips. He was kissing her eyes. He was -kissing her throat. Her hair touched his hair. Her hair was in his -mouth, and the sharp taste of it made him mad. He began to kiss her -in frenzy, until she ceased to struggle and lay in his arms sobbing -and laughing. He crushed her to him. He kissed her mouth again. He -kissed her eyes again. Again he kissed her hair. He kissed her brows. -He kissed her throat until the red marks rose in the brown skin. He -pressed his head against her bosom where her heart struck wildly. He -felt her tiny teeth against his lips. He buried his face in her coils -of hair. He held her two hands and covered his eyes with them. He -kissed their palms. He laid soft kisses in her eyes. He lifted her -from the ground. He fell upon his knees and laid her in the grass, -and himself fell down beside her. He interlaced her fingers with his. -He drew each open hand of hers slowly about his cheek. He lifted her -from her grassy bed and pressed her to him. The coarse stems of plants -pushed about his face. Great grasshoppers leapt from their beds into -the dark. The stars seemed to blink and flash. He pressed his mouth to -hers again, and held her there through an eternity. And then he fell -down beside her with his face in the grasses, hearing her tiny sobs, -and, more tremendous than that, the shrill of the insects, and more -tremendous than the chorus of insect voices, the living stillness of -the night. - -After an age, he raised himself on both hands, lifting his head above -the grass stems. She lay close by, her face turned away, and her heavy -hair ragged with little leaves and tiny twigs. She was sobbing very -quietly. It seemed to Power he and she lay at the bottom of a deep -pit whence he and she had tumbled in headlong flight from the stars. -Brave boasts fled in wind. Big words gone in sound. "Traitor" seared in -red letters across his soul. A harvest to reap from this sowing. What -harvest to reap? Would this child learn to love him as he loved her? -No. He believed already her little heart beat to other time than his. -Well, the draught had proved too bitter for his tasting. He had put -down the cup as it touched his lips. - -He raised himself to his knees and bent over her. "You must get up, -child. It won't do to lie like that. Crying has never mended matters -since the world began." - -He found her hand and she answered his touch, rising slowly, and -presently standing up. He stood beside her and tenderly picked the -rubbish from her hair. She stooped to smooth her dress, and afterwards -he kissed her once, and they turned towards home. They did not speak -all the journey by the water; but he thought the stars stared down on -them like dismal virgins whose virtue has grown strong with loveless -years. Sometimes he held a bough aside that she might go by. At the end -of a long time they were by the castor-oil tree, and light from the hut -shone through the dark. - -"Don't come home," she said. "Not to-night." And she had slipped away -in a moment through the trees, while he stood staring where she went. - -He saddled the mare in brief space. He could look into the distant -lighted hut; but it was empty. She was not there. He drew the reins -together on the chestnut's neck and gained the saddle. When the mare -found her head turned home she started away primly at her swift walk. -He gave the reins to her neck. But they had not put behind half a mile -of the journey when the steps of a second horse approached, and a -whinney came through the dark. - -"You, Mick?" - -"Hullo, boss." - -They pulled up with one accord. He saw O'Neill in the dark, wearing -a wide-brimmed hat, a shirt open at the neck, riding trousers and -leggings below, and long spurs strapped at his heels. His happy smile -had departed, and Power knew he was face to face with the first reaping -of his harvest. - -"I haven't got back yet," he said. "I went as far as the big hole past -the Ten Mile, and then round Mount Dreary way. There were a couple of -mobs by the water--doing right enough." He came to the end of what he -had to say. O'Neill sat gloomily, tapping the arch of his saddle with -his fingers. "I looked in at the Gregory's a bit on the way back." -Power added. - -Then O'Neill spoke. His old swagger came into his bearing, and he -lifted his head defiantly. "Boss, do you reckon you are on the square -game down there?" - -Anger blazed in Power's face. He felt a weight upon his chest and the -chords of his throat tighten. But he had caught hold of himself before -the words left his lips. After a long moment he said almost gently: -"Fast talking won't do us good, Mick. It looks that the road is pretty -rough for you and me just now. We were friends before ill-luck sat -down between us. It is a poor crush that won't hold the beast when the -branding starts." - -O'Neill stared gloomily at the neck of his horse. "Boss, it's no game -I'm playing there, I swear. It's no come-and-go affair with me." - -"And how is it better for me?" - -The man flashed up his head. "Miss Neville," he said. - -The pain in Power's face told the rest of the story. A moment later -Power spoke. - -"A man has his life to live, and wins or loses as his turn comes. One -of us must finish on top; but it needn't break our friendship." - -"Straight wire you mean it, boss?" - -"Straight wire." - -He found the mare, fretful of delay, was moving down the road. O'Neill -had gathered up his reins. Without more talk they were moving--each -going his way. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -SELWYN HEARS SOME NEWS - - -The sun climbing round the base of Conical Hill at daybreak next -morning, found Selwyn already abroad, and in the very best of humours. -The gentle trickle of last night's nightcap down his gullet had warmed -the very cockles of his heart, so he told a mud-lark discussing an -early worm among the saplings. He was outside before the day was -properly alight, standing on the front verandah, hands deep in pockets, -legs set apart, sniffing the remnants of a night breeze, which had -not yet fled the sun's wooing. Finding his spirits insisted upon more -active affairs and discovering no prospect of breakfast for a while, he -picked up his stick, which he only exchanged for gun or fishing-rod, -and took a turn round the back premises, where there might be matters -to occupy a fellow until people thought fit to give up slugging in bed. -Rheumy-eyed Scabbyback, rising morosely from a sack, was prodded good -morning, and Gripper was accorded even more gracious welcome, being -unchained and allowed to follow on the march of discovery. - -Selwyn called out good morning to old Neville, as he passed towards the -mine on early business, and presently seduced into talk Mrs. Nankervis -as she bustled in and out of the back door on the work of breakfast. -He presided at a difference of opinion between Gripper and a blue -billygoat with the beard of the Prophet, which ruled the tattered herds -of Surprise. He had just come to an end of everything, including his -good humour, when news arrived that breakfast waited. - -Mrs. Selwyn and Maud were already in the dining-room. Hands came out of -his pockets. "By Jove!" he said. "Good morning. Here you are at last. -It is wonderful how people like to loaf in bed." - -"It is the only morning you have been down first for a week," Mrs. -Selwyn answered sharply. - -"What about 'a man's work may be early begun; but a woman's work is -never done,' Mr. Selwyn?" Maud said. - -Selwyn changed the conversation. He put on his most genial smile. -"Your father out again to-day? I suppose he won't be back yet? Am I to -preside again, Miss Neville?" - -"If you won't mind. Shall we sit down?" - -Maud took her place at one end of the table and poured out tea. Selwyn, -with a good deal of noise, pulled up a chair at the other end and -began to lift dish covers. Mrs. Selwyn found her seat half-way down -and prepared to be as gracious as possible, in spite of feeling most -unequal to the task. What she endured daily at this ghastly place, -nobody could possibly comprehend. And she had foreseen it all so -clearly with that capable brain of hers! Never again should Hilton -overrule her. - -A first inspection of dishes revealed, besides a noble ham, procured -from the coast in honour of visitors, eggs, a wallaby stew, and -lastly--red, rich, and done absolutely to the last turn--a thick piece -of rump steak, beyond any doubt the best bit Selwyn had ever seen since -leaving the South. Quietly the cover went down upon that dish. - -"Now, who will have wallaby stew?" said the master of ceremonies, with -the charm of manner which beguiled so easily the uninitiated. "You will -have some, of course, dear?" - -"I shall have nothing of the sort. I shall have an egg." - -"Very well, dear; but you are making a mistake. Miss Neville, you will -have some, of course." - -"Don't pester the wretched girl with it every morning." - -"Of course she would like it," came irritably from the president. -"Wallaby is a great luxury. You ought to be very glad I am able to get -it for you. This is the only place I have heard of where they want to -throw it on the midden." - -Selwyn began to heap a plate. - -"If I must have it, Mr. Selwyn, not so much, please," Maud said. - -"I don't know why you pester everyone to eat your things," said Mrs. -Selwyn, continuing the attack. - -"I hate seeing everything I shoot wasted," Selwyn replied, testily. - -"Then let the dogs have it." - -"No. I like seeing friends enjoy it." - -"Then eat it yourself." - -"I can't. It doesn't agree with me in the morning." - -Maud made peace by accepting the dish. Mrs. Selwyn cracked an egg. -Then--then only--Selwyn uncovered the rump steak. - -"By Jove!" he said. "I'm sorry. There was steak here had anyone wanted -it. I am afraid I'm rather late for you now." - -He put the fork gently and deeply into the juicy square of meat, and -lifted it bodily on to his plate--regretfully, as though only good -manners persuaded him to choose the untasted dish. Next, collecting -round him the necessaries for an ample breakfast, he settled to his -task. - -Breakfast over, Selwyn decided on a stroll. It was too late in the -day for a shot, and he could take a turn with a gun in the evening. -A stroll was better than hanging about a house trying to amuse two -women. He visited the back again and loosed his bodyguard. The mangy -pointer in its dotage sprang heavily upon him in joyous good morning, -and tested the weight of his stick. Gripper led the van. The momentary -irritation of breakfast had gone, and Selwyn felt benign with all the -world. - -Pipe in mouth, stick in hand, he took the red road which turns -left-handed from the office door. Mrs. Boulder relinquished household -matters to watch him go by. The sun was rising in the sky, and when -he drew opposite the Horrington humpy, he began to tell himself that -a man was looking for trouble who went for walks in this country. Mr. -Horrington stood in his doorway, gently musing after his morning custom -before setting forth to win the daily bread; and Selwyn, from the -roadway, sent him a cheerful salute, which brought him along the path -to the road. - -"Good day, Mr. Selwyn. You are abroad early this morning. Which way are -you going?" - -"Nowhere in particular. I was out for a stroll." - -"Will you come along with me? I seldom get anyone to talk to. I have -some business in the township." - -"Splendid!" cried Selwyn. - -Up the road they went at steady pace, Selwyn carrying his fifty years -on springy steps, Mr. Horrington planting his feet ponderously in the -dust. Mr. Horrington pulled out his pipe in a little while, and found -to his chagrin his tobacco-pouch was empty. - -"Damn it! I find I have run out of fuel until I can manage to get back -to the store," he said, blinking his pale blue eyes. "Would you mind -lending me a fill? Thanks. Ah, this is something like tobacco. The -stuff they sell here comes hard on an educated palate." - -"Fill your pouch up. I have plenty at home." - -"Thanks very much. I am always meaning to send for some decent stuff. -Yes, thanks very much. I shall look forward to a luxurious evening. -Here you are. I am afraid I have rather taken you at your word." - -"Not at all," answered Selwyn with downcast countenance. - -Just before the firewood stacks, they took the branch road turning -to the township. The nearing hotel roof glared in the sun. Selwyn, -foreseeing the inevitable, put a cautious hand into his pocket -for what discovery might discover. The nimble half-crown rewarded -his search. Several malignant goats cropped the pasturage at the -cross-roads. Mr. Horrington eyed them sullenly. - -"Who owns all these goats?" said Selwyn, put in better spirits by the -find. - -Horrington blinked his eyes. "That is what nobody knows. They walk -round a man's house, and break the way inside if there's a crust on the -place; or get tangled in the dustbin just as a man is falling asleep. -You can stand all day shouting for an owner, and not a soul on the -lease turns an ear. But if you go mad and shoot one, every man and -woman in the camp comes running up to claim it." - -"You don't care for goats?" said Selwyn. - -Mr. Horrington put the back of a hand across his drooping moustache. -"They are charming animals for little girls to fondle in books; but -you have to live with them to know them. Were I a well-to-do man I -would keep two or three, and wander down of an evening to the paddock -to sprinkle a little bread over them. But when you must wrestle a goat -round a bail before you can have breakfast, the glamour wears. By gad! -a man soon gets hot walking these mornings. Ah, here's the hotel. I -hope you will take the dust out of your throat with me. It will help -square our tobacco account." Mr. Horrington laughed a rusty laugh. - -They passed through the open doorway of the hotel, turned right-handed, -and went into the bar. It was cool indoors after the sun. The room was -large and low, and full of the breaths of departed roysterers; and was -empty except for a battered barmaid in curl papers who dusted behind -the counter. Upon the floor were many signs of yesterday. Selwyn felt -poorly inclined for refreshment. Mr. Horrington took off his hat and -wiped his brow, bowing good morning to the barmaid, who smiled bitterly -and came forward. He laid his stick along the counter, and leaning an -elbow beside it, fell into a noble pose, the outcome of a lifetime's -practice. - -"What's it to be, Mr. Selwyn?" - -"Anything, thanks; a whisky," said Selwyn, coming forward and smiling a -charming good morning. - -"That will do for me," Mr. Horrington agreed. "Two whiskys, please." - -Mr. Horrington plunged a hand into his right trouser pocket. Afterwards -he plunged a hand into his left pocket. Once more he tried the right -pocket. He blinked his eyes. He took up the whisky bottle and poured -himself out a stiff peg. He shook his head at a suggestion of -dilution. He sipped the peg to taste its quality. He seemed about to -add a little more, had not the barmaid put the bottle from harm's way. -He watched paternally the pouring out of Selwyn's nobbler, and when it -was set down ready, he said pleasantly:-- - -"I am afraid I have left every penny of loose cash behind. Wretched -nuisance! Never remember doing that kind of thing before. I hope you -won't object to settling this little matter now, and we can fix up -between ourselves another day." Leaning over, he added in a heavy -whisper: "They are not too agreeable here--don't care to run accounts." - -Selwyn had met his master. He saw it; he was a wise man; then and there -he surrendered. - -"Of course," he said, and brought forth the half-crown. "We are up -against it this morning. This is all I happen to have with me." - -He put the half-crown on the counter, and Mr. Horrington blinked -suspiciously at him. - -The out-of-curl barmaid went away in a little while, and Mr. Horrington -suggested lighting pipes and sitting down a few minutes on the -seat running along the wall. Selwyn, hopeless of escape just then, -acquiesced. They crossed the floor and sat down. - -"Have you a match?" said Mr. Horrington as a start in matters. Selwyn -obediently handed over the box. "Business is very slack this year, -very. I find time hang heavily sometimes. Practically never a man of -culture to speak to. I often mean to get up one or two decent books -from down South." - -"Sorry haven't got one with me," said Selwyn, counting the flies on the -ceiling. - -"Yes," went on Mr. Horrington, shaking his head. "I have to hang round -this wretched rattletrap township all day. Fellows turn up any time -from the bush with skins to sell, or samples of ore. It wouldn't do -to be away. A man might lose custom. But it is sickening for a man of -culture listening to their petty squabbles and affairs. By the way, -that reminds me, I heard a fair shocker the other day; a fair shocker -I can tell you. No need to say this is strictly between you and me. Of -course you knew Neville's girl was engaged to the Power who owns this -station?" - -"Met him several times." - -"No doubt. Not a bad chap you would think," said Mr. Horrington. "Well, -it is all over the place now he is running a double affair." - -"Eh?" - -"Yes. They say the other girl is somewhere on the river. A girl with -striking looks. No doubt that's the attraction, though I have never -seen any looks in these parts." - -"What!" said Selwyn, this time coming down from the flies and scowling. - -"Yes, pretty sickening thing to hear. I am very sorry for Neville's -girl. Charming girl. There seems no doubt about it. I've had it from -half-a-dozen sources since. Moreover the girl's father was here a day -or two back. Drinking pretty freely. I happened to be there, and he -said a good deal more than I liked listening to. He mentioned other -names; but it's as well to let them be. Nasty story. Yes, nasty story." - -"Man, it can't be true." Selwyn exclaimed at last. - -"'Fraid so." - -"Damn it, how beastly!" - -"Yes. Fair shocker." - -They talked together in the stale room for some time until Selwyn grown -desperate, rose firmly to his feet. "Well, must be getting back. Have -a bit of business to do. Enjoyed our chat. Suppose we shall run across -each other again pretty soon." - -Selwyn continued to move firmly towards the door. Mr. Horrington rose -also. He blinked. He swept the edge of his drooping moustache with his -tongue lest a spare drop of whisky remained. He looked longingly but -unprofitably at the row of bottles on the shelves. Lastly he picked up -his stick as Selwyn had picked up his. They went outside into the sun. -Scabbyback and Gripper rose from a small island of shade, and Gripper -trotted forward very ready for the start. At the hotel entrance they -said good-bye. They said it soon--Selwyn lifting his stick jauntily in -the air, and Mr. Horrington blinking reply. - -Good-natured kindly fool that he was, he was thoroughly upset by that -infernal old sponger's scandal. Just his luck to be told a darned -awkward piece of news just after breakfast, so that he was likely to -be annoyed with it all day. He was too thundering good-natured, that's -what he was. He must adopt another line in future. Why the deuce should -he worry over people's affairs? What the devil was a fellow to do in -such infernally awkward circumstances--keep his mouth shut? Perhaps he -ought to tell his wife. She might as well know, in case anything ever -came of it. What's more he could shift the business on to her that way. -It was a woman's job. They were pretty thick-skinned in that kind of -thing. They'd be certain to try and drag him into it; but he'd be jolly -careful they didn't. Yes, he was too darned considerate of others. - -He reached home as he was growing unpleasantly hot. Spying Mrs. Selwyn -reading on the shadiest verandah, he made for her and threw himself -into a canvas chair close by. The bodyguard flopped upon the floor at -his feet, and the party fell to heaving up and down. The sudden assault -caused Mrs. Selwyn to look over the edge of her book. - -"Hilton, how soon are you going to learn a little consideration for -others?" she said sharply. "No single other man I could name would -throw himself and two smelling dogs down in the one spot we are trying -to keep cool." - -Selwyn, tumbled pell-mell from high thoughts, turned very sour. - -"It seems a little hard that a fellow mayn't crawl into the shade for -a minute or two. I am the only one here with sufficient spirit to take -a decent walk of a morning. The rest of you gasp about in easy chairs -expecting to be waited on." - -Mrs. Selwyn made no reply and resumed her reading. Selwyn and his -retainers gave a little time to the recovery of their breaths. Finally -Selwyn braced himself to his task. - -"I met that old humbug Horrington on the road. He gave me a pretty -beastly bit of news." Mrs. Selwyn again looked over the top of her -book. "He told me Jim Power is running a double affair, and is tied up -in a knot with a girl somewhere on the river. A good-looking girl, old -Horrington said. Probably the girl they joke King about. He says it's -all over the place." Mrs. Selwyn shut up her book and laid it in her -lap. Next she looked severely at the flooring of the verandah. "Beastly -nuisance!" Selwyn followed up again feebly. - -"Was he quite certain of his story?" - -"Seemed infernally sure of it." - -Mrs. Selwyn resumed the study of the flooring. After a moment or two -she said--"I feel most unwell. I think at least you might have had the -decency to keep it from me." - -"Damn it, I thought you would be put out if you weren't told. Besides -you are a woman. I thought you would have a suggestion to mend matters." - -"I shouldn't for one moment think of interfering. It is essentially a -matter between Mr. Neville and yourself." - -"Neville? Damn it, don't you try and drag me into it." - -"I entreat you to moderate your violence a little." - -Selwyn said something under his breath. He was getting ruffled, and -don't you make any mistake about it. It was the old story. He was too -darned infernally good-natured. Too beastly unselfish. He had lived too -long letting people thrust their blasted wishes down his timid throat. -But he'd start a new tack from to-day. By Jove! yes, a new tack from -to-day. - -While he lashed himself into noble rage, Mrs. Selwyn continued to -admonish. "It is exactly what I expected. The course is perfectly -clear, and you come running to me. And as usual you try and shift the -matter on to me with high hand and bluster." - -Selwyn had flogged himself to white heat. "Here am I, a supposed big -man of these parts, nagged at and brow-beaten and driven to the point -of madness by a houseful of idle matchmaking women." - -"I entreat you----" began Mrs. Selwyn. - -"They can carry their own dirty linen to the wash themselves. I've been -the public pack-animal for the last time, and I tell you so now. The -girl can get herself out of her own tangle." - -"Do you realise the whole camp may be listening?" - -"Damn the camp!" - -"You ruffian." - -Selwyn threw himself to his feet. "It's the last good turn I try and -do. Power can keep a harem for what I care. I suppose you are content -now you have driven me away?" - -Mrs. Selwyn made no reply, but resumed her reading. Scowling -terrifically, Selwyn plunged down the verandah steps, the bodyguard -pattering at his heels. There were the sounds of steps, very sharp and -dignified, dying away down the path, followed by silence. Mrs. Selwyn -closed her book and proceeded to consider matters in all their aspects. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE JOURNEY TO THE POOL - - -Coming up from the yard near the creek where the goats were herded, -Maud Neville stood a moment in the darkened dining-room; and, standing -there, she heard Selwyn begin his story. She dreamed while the first -words were spoken, soothed by the change from sunlight to the shadows -and quiet of indoors; then understanding arrived, and she stood -wide-eared to the end. - -Waiting by the table, clad in a cool dress, with a wide straw hat -upon her head, she happened upon the telling of that tale, and stood -listening until the final word was spoken. In that space life lived and -done with. A book opened; the story read. Truth told which could not be -untold. And she must rouse herself from daydreaming in this quiet room, -for outside a sun was shining, and earth still rolled through high -heaven. - -She lingered among the shadows a little while yet, while the greedy -sunlight crept under the verandah roof seeking a way to climb in. Her -light fingers moved among the household gods, settling and re-settling -them with old skill. - -Give her strength to find the way into the sunlight white and fiery. -Winter must thaw there, and these tongues of slander wither and roll up -black. He loved her! Who dared to deny he loved her? Yet now he came -less often. He came with gloomy face and brow old with frowns. Truth -was too true! Love had learned unloving. - -Stay, he loved her a little still and therefore he grieved to speak -the truth. He came and came again that he might kill her gently, and -lay dead love to sleep upon its broken flowers. Let her thank him for -this kindness which had kept her glad a little while. Surely Death thus -gently come was not a fearful visitor? - -She shook. This was rage assailing her. Hot rage, this moment. This -moment, icy hate. Come and gone in fierce breaths. Now storm had passed -away, and she stood quiet, trembling a little. - -Not to-day this message. Let him love her once more to-night. Let him -kiss back her kisses, and she would be strong to-morrow. - -A world rolling through its day, and she dreaming in this cool room. -Wake up from dreaming. Outside sunlight woos the red earth, and bronze -lizards sit upon the stones. - -She showed no signs of hurt when presently she came out of the quiet -and began the tasks set to do in the brief space of morning that -remained. One asked her were she tired. One warned her summer was but -begun, and only those who started prudently would last through to the -end. She laughed and said she would cause all to look to their laurels. -When lunch was ended, to prove the heat of the day had small fright for -her, she renounced the verandah for her bedroom, and her cool dress for -a habit. At the last moment, when there remained only the saddling, she -sought out her father and told him she would be away until sundown. The -old man cocked his head to one side in dismay. - -"What's taken ye, girl?" he said. "Why not wait for evening and the -cool?" - -"I'm sick of indoors. I am going now, father." - -"Well, it's you to do the riding, girl, and not me. Don't be stopping -out after sunset and scarin' us. Where are you going?" - -"To the river." - -The old man grunted, and she turned and left the house. She saddled -Stockings, the chestnut with four white legs, she mounted him, and he -moved freely down the road, reefing a little at the beginning from -good spirits. She checked him to a walk, and presently he ceased to -fret and plodded down the way with head drooping lower as each mile was -put behind. Presently hills stood between the camp and her. Presently -she was far into the plain. The sun was high up in the sky; the air was -hot and without breeze. The red hill sides glared back into the sun's -face. The baked bunches of spinifex pushed up their spears from the -ground. At the end of several miles she began to fag, although all her -task was to sit astride this big horse. Purpose held her moving along -the road. The green belt of the river grew up upon the horizon. - -Rage and bitterness had spent their hours in her heart and had passed -to where such things pass. Now Care came, a lonely child, to suck at -her breast. Came too this desire to look upon that beauty which could -command men to cast all away and follow--a desire to stare upon it from -her high seat on this beast. - -The green belt marking the river came out across the plain. The big -horse carried her into the shabby country which sheltered the higher -trees from the broad face of the land. Rubbish of old floods, long run -to the sea, waited in the branches, and here and there high watermark -showed above her head. Now she rode among the nobler timber. - -It was gentle here among the trees, where quiet shadows laid their -cheeks against the path. A lonely bird fluted in the boughs. Water -peeped ahead through bending branches. It seemed the Pool had shrunken -much after these rainless months. - -Presently, when she had passed a long way through the trees, she pulled -up Stockings on the bank and looked down into the water. The face of -the Pool stared back into her own, and she could mark the lean fishes -lolling in cool places, and discover a world of weeds nodding below. -Last great lilies of the year bloomed lonely upon the brow of the -water. To right hand, to left hand, the face of the Pool extended. -Guardian ranks of trees followed all the way, bending over in many -places to stare at their countenances. Sunlight slipped among their -tops, and tumbled into the gloom of their boughs, and splashed upon the -water with noiseless splashes. Shadows with dusky faces peered round -the tree trunks to know who came thus to look with sad face upon the -slumbers of an afternoon. - -She had drawn quietly to the bank, and now she discovered wild birds -dozed upon the bosom of the Pool. Fat ducks floated, with bills laid to -rest in gorgeous plumes. Divers paddled in loneliest places and sank -among the weeds. Strange birds shovelled in the hot soft mud. And in -all corners--melodiously hidden--butcher birds called and called again, -tiny birds with canary breasts flitted in the boughs, and sharpened -their bills on the roughness of the bark; and kingfishers skimmed the -water on shining, whirring wings. - -She laid the reins upon the neck of the big horse which stood so still, -and as she looked the message of peace laid a quiet finger upon her -heart. She told herself the beautiful child who had so harmed her -had a home by this gentle place, and so she could not be a stranger -to kindness. She would undo the damage wrought. He who had wandered -away after false gods saw every day this fair scene, and his heart -must still have understanding. She turned Stockings from the Pool -right-handed, and threaded a way along the bank. She began to wonder -what to do when she would find herself face to face with the girl. She -wondered if rumour had mistold of her beauty, and she grew bitter with -her own poor body which could ill afford challenge. What would she -say to this child if she had to speak to her--tell her to go down to -the Pool and there find a book printed with much learning? She would -tell her gently she had played robber, and this stranger had ridden -across the plain to receive back what she had lost. It was simple to -give back where value was not. Value was not? A new thought to stab. -This young girl who lived among the silences of the timber might love -too, and fight for her love with the weapons of the savage. Beauty and -passion come to do battle against her own dowdy armour. - -What a coward heart she held! Here was the camp coming through the -trees. Did she arrive on the service of love to peer and eavesdrop, and -to smile out of her white face while rage filled her heart? Ah, there -the child lived. What a lowly house the man she loved had stooped to -knock at! Her own stout roof and safe walls could not keep him. Her -nerves were tight drawn to-day. Stockings had whinnied loud, and the -blood raced to her heart. The hut was not deserted. An unfriendly dog -ran out to challenge the approach. In a moment the girl might cross -the threshold, and find her without wit or speech. Stockings neighed -again--and was that a horse answering beyond the hut? A horse was -there. A horseman must be here. Shame! His horse stood there. She was -near the doorway. She must ride on or turn back. She might be found -there. Such thing must never be. He might find her there, and think she -spied upon him. He might come outside, and with him the child who had -stolen him away. They two might look fondly at each other. No--not -that. - -She was clumsy. She had waited too long. He stood in the doorway. He -was coming outside. He stood still. He had seen her. They were staring -into each other's eyes. It seemed they could not leave off looking. -They looked into each other's hearts and read all that was written -there. His face had grown hard; he was frowning, his face black. Come, -she must rouse herself from enchantment. She could not speak to him -now, and there was only left to turn Stockings on the road home. - -Ah, who is this come out beside him? Tall, like a young tree. Who -is this come to stand beside him and stare out of wide eyes? Eyes -set under a brow harnessed with thick brown coils of hair. Young and -careless and lovelier than all the beauty that slumbers through this -summer afternoon. What fields of lilies yearn for her to seek them, -that her slim white feet may crush among their stems, and they meet -death from one lovelier than themselves? What woods of greedy violets -sigh for her to pass among them that they may steal her fragrance and -make the world sick with a sweeter sweetness? Ah, what a poor tongue -has legend. This was she whom rumour said bloomed lovely by the river. -Beauty born humbly, but not so humble that pale pilgrims did not glide -through the silences to lift the clapper of her door. Beauty housed -humbly in a shabby temple; but beauty itself not humble. The flame that -burnt! Ah, rescue him! - -She drew tight a rein and turned away; and as she passed again among -the trees the birds were fluting in the boughs and on one hand the face -of the waters twinkled in sunshine and in sleep. Once she thought his -voice came after her, commanding her to wait; but she scorned to turn -about lest imagination mocked, and again she saw that hut set among the -trees. It seemed Stockings turned sluggard for this homeward journey, -and in rage she plunged sudden spurs into his sides. He snorted loud -and rose high into the air, and she must lean upon his wither to -persuade him to earth. Thereafter he turned fretful, seeking to reef -the reins from her hands. They passed among the trees until the last -ribbons of water were hidden. Hark! On the edge of the timber and the -empty land a hurry of hoofs reached her ears. Quickly it grew loud. -Some madman rode. It was he come after her. He would ride at her side -in a moment. Give her strength to meet him manfully. Fool he to seek -her out now. She hated him with a hate as great as the love he had -murdered. - -"I called out I would ride back with you. I had to saddle up. What was -the hurry?" - -"To tell the truth I didn't know I was needed. I set out to ride alone, -and thought to finish the journey alone. But we can ride together -now if you wish. The way lies side by side a mile or two. As well -to practise again this art of riding side by side, lest it be quite -forgotten. One--two--three--weeks, since we had last lesson. And once -we used half the days of the week in mastering the art. Why these -scowls, friend Jim?" - -"Come, don't talk riddles, Maud. I'm not in humour to read them. If you -have things to say, say them now while we have the place to ourselves. -Say what must be said. Big words can drop and break here, and lie well -broken. My ears are on edge for listening. But don't give me riddles." - -"'Jim Power has tied himself up in a knot with some girl on the river.' -Soft words, Jim, to have flung at me this morning.... Oh, how could you -do this?" - -"Gently, Maud." - -"Gently? No, any word but that. Speak up, Jim. What knots your tongue? -Cry at me doubter, liar, shabby tattler of tales. The bitterer your -words, the sweeter I shall hear them. Where is your tongue? Say you -are sick with me for doubting. Say the taste of this day will never -leave your mouth, Jim. Frowns won't feed me." - -"Stop. I am at the end of what I can bear." - -"You won't answer? Jim, it isn't true?" - -Then fell upon those two riding side by side in the radiant afternoon -the majesty and the melancholy of that wide red land. The little sounds -of passage were born and died and put away forgotten. There lived upon -the breast of Time the sharp steps of two horses crossing the rubble -on the ground. There lived the clink of bits when heads were tossed. -There lived the tiny groans of leather. And in the bunches of spinifex -punctual insects tuned their throats against the evening. But he and -she passed away from all these things, and after much journeying came -hand in hand into some rare atmosphere where they kneeled together, -two mourners at the bier of dead love. He who was so quickly moved to -anger, she who but a space ago had been cold in rage, felt now only a -great purifying pity move through them that such a fair comrade had -been laid in a narrow bed. Desires, remorses, rages, strifes--those -ragged clothes his spirit must often wear--were laid aside on the -threshold of this high wide chamber, and he was re-robed in cool -garments for the hour of vigil. As their spirits waited there, on -either side of the bier where Love was laid out among her fading -blossoms, their bodies rode across the plain, and presently the long -road lay before them, where she must turn right-handed to Surprise and -he ride left for Kaloona. There they stayed a little while and spoke -together. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -THE HALT BY THE ROAD - - -She was the first to speak. - -"Jim, we can't ride like this for ever. A good thing if we could! I am -over the first sharpness. Don't choose your words. We can't ride on -like this." - -"No, Maud, we can't." - -"Do you love her?" - -"Yes." - -"How did it come about?" - -"As such things come about." - -"What do you mean?" - -"How do such things come about?" - -"Does she love you?" - -"No." - -"What have you said to her? Does she know you care?" - -"Yes." - -"Ah, as far as that?" - -"Since yesterday. Last night I went to end things. Until then not one -word had smirched me or you. I went to say good-bye. She was put -before me like a drink. And----" - -"You were parched?" - -The horses stood with drooped heads, muzzle to muzzle. The hours were -growing old, and long shadows climbed across the grasses. A wide -hat sheltered her from the sun; but he thought she looked tired and -worn, and he wondered which lines summer had drawn there and which he -had traced. Next he fell to asking himself if sorrow could sharpen -eyesight, for he found himself looking past her body upon her good -spirit. It would find food for new growth out of this hurt. Two years -ago they had knelt together and received an equal gift. What a good -housewife she had proved! What a spendthrift he! - -"The afternoon is nearly gone, Jim. I made a promise to be back by -sunset. I don't know what to say. I must go on feeling for a little -while and then I shall be able to think. I don't understand a man's -love. He can put it off and on like a cloak. He wears a woman's livery -for a season to find it shabby after that time and himself in need of a -newer one. You have worn mine through two seasons and no doubt I should -be duly glad." - -"Gently." - -"I am raw still. Too sick and sorry to stoop about picking up soft -words. No, forget what I said. You have made me angry and hurt and -scornful, and, if you will have it, jealous; but you have not the art -to make me love you any less. Nothing can unteach me what I have learnt -through you. You can never make me unhappy as you have made me happy." - -"What am I to say?" - -"I must be going home." - -"Listen to me. Because of what has happened, don't think I'm such a -dullard that I don't know the worth of what I had. What ails me! Soon -I'll be past caring. I'm at odds with my shadow. I'm too full of ill -humours to pull myself on to a horse's back, too sick with things to -try a day's work. If you want revenge you can be satisfied." - -She saw his face grow keen with sorrow, and last traces of bitterness -against him left her. In place arrived a great pity, and a greediness -to heal his hurts. She turned away, and thoughtfully with her light -fingers began to thread the mane of the big chestnut horse. She laid -the hairs this way and that with care, but little she knew of her work. -She was thinking with all her might. - -She loved this man, and what was love but service? She must serve him -now he was in such evil case. What were her wounds but red lips opening -in her side that they might speak his wounds and tell them balm was -coming. This was the highest hour of their love, when love was to be -crowned with understanding. Let her be speedy and not spend all day -debating. A poor passenger was fallen sick by the way, and here was -she, loaded with her ointments, who had talked much of her skill. What -was love but service, and she said she loved this man? - -"What are we to do?" - -"There is nothing to do." - -"Are you going home?" - -"I told her I would go back." - -"It's time I started home, Jim." - -"Maud!" - -"Don't look so serious. You are in worse case than I am. I can laugh at -myself and I doubt that of you. Before I go, promise me you will still -come to Surprise. It's a sleepy place. You won't find things changed -there." - -"Yes." - -"And now you have promised that, will you come to-morrow? A square -promise, fair weather or black, a day's work to do or nothing on hand." - -"Yes." - -"Good-bye, Jim." - -"Good-bye, Maud." - -The old horse moved away when she gathered up her reins. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE PARTING OF THE WAY - - -Power kept his promise. The afternoon sun was still high in the sky -when he let loose his horse in the stable yard at Surprise and walked -across the stones to the house. He approached in view of the shadiest -verandah where the household had come together after lunch. In the -amplest chair lay Selwyn lost to all the ill humours of the heat; but -Mrs. Selwyn interrupted her reading to give him a searching glance, and -Neville shot up shaggy eyebrows and cried "Hello!" Maud came down the -steps. She wore a big hat as protection from the sun; but she looked up -to speak and showed Power the lines of care that twenty-four hours had -drawn upon her face. - -"Come this way, Jim. It's shady up the creek, and there are too many -inside." - -They passed together a little way up the bed of the creek, clambering -once and again over sharp faces of rock where fair pools of water rest -after the rains. They reached a spot where a sapling throws a broken -shade upon a shelf of stone. They sat down. The prospect is gentle here -as prospects are judged at Surprise. Below, stands the house peering -round the bank of the rise--above, the creek climbs up into the hills. - -"Well, Jim?" - -"Yes." - -"Come, don't look so cut up. It isn't fair to me. I've spent all day -looking things in the face and you must help." - -"I've come here as you asked. What is there to say?" - -"Do you still feel the same about her?" - -"Yes. It will always be the same." - -"We have come to the end of things. Is that it?" - -"It needn't be that. There is friendship left." - -"Fall from first to second place? How dare you ask me that.... What -makes you like this? She has nothing more than her looks. She has no -education. She can have only a child's experience of life." - -"It makes no difference." - -"And where will you be when the glamour has gone?" - -"It will be time to see when that happens." - -"But they say she isn't even a good girl. A girl must be so weak to let -men do as they like with her." - -"We have said enough." - -"And what am I to do? Make the best of things I can? Take off my love -like an old coat and throw it away because it is out at the elbows? -Jim, you don't know what love is. That's why this thing has happened." - -"Talking won't mend things." - -"There's no more to say; is that what you mean? We have come to the -parting of the ways. I'm to understand that, am I? The house I built -has tumbled on top of me, and I am to get clear of the ruins as best -I can. In a little while this affair of yours will be over, and where -shall we both be? Can't you see what a priceless thing we are ready to -waste?" - -"Of course I see it; but it makes no difference. I was a man a month -ago, able to take or let alone. Now ... I love the child. There's the -beginning and end of it." - -"We had a hundred things to help us over the difficult bits of life and -now because you are tired I am asked to feel the same. That's where the -laugh comes in. I find I can't do it." - -"What a cad you make me!" - -"She doesn't love you. You told me that yesterday. How are you going to -get over that?" - -"She may change." - -"Have you thought what I have to face? 'There goes Maud Neville who -was found wanting and now takes second place to a girl whose lips are -plastered with the kisses of a dozen men.' Some day the words may not -seem much; just now, my friend, they have a harsh sound. How dare you -bring me to this?" - -"Would you have us marry as things are?" - -"No, I wouldn't. I must eat my humble pie. But as yet I cannot make -myself believe that we are at the end of things. It's not easy to speak -out the truth even to you. I ought to cut you for good. But I just -can't do it. Love takes a lot of killing. The world will think me a -girl of poor spirit; but better that than that this thing should come -to grief in haste. I must have time to think things out. I owe this to -you and to myself.... What are you looking at the sun for? Do you want -to get away?" - -"I have to meet O'Neill at three o'clock." - -"Meet him at three so as to be in time somewhere else later on--I -suppose that's it. Well, so be it." - -"Are you coming to the stable?" - -"No. I'm going to stay here a little while. Jim, this mustn't be our -good-bye. Before you go, promise me you won't quite forget us here. -Come when you can." - -"Good-bye." - -"Good-bye." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -SUMMER DAYS - - -In this far country spendthrift November used up one by one its days. -Each fiery noontide pulled the sun a little higher into the sky. His -way was set in a wide field of blue, where seldom came one timid -cloud to loiter an hour and float fearfully away. The season of the -rains drew near; but as yet was no sign of the storm wrack, which -drifts up evening by evening and drifts away--a herald of the deluge -which presently shall burst upon the land. Night, hot and passionate, -followed night, hot and passionate--each night roofed with high white -twinkling stars. The Scorpion was falling from his lofty place, and -Orion carried his sword and belt up from the horizon. - -In the mornings of those long November days as the eight o'clock -whistle blew shrill from the engine house, the men of Surprise Valley -descended into the bowels of the hills, there to drive and to stope, -to put up their rises and put down their winzes, to employ hammer and -drill in the damp places and in the hot places, to push their trucks, -to set their fuses, to batter with their spluttering machines until -the day was worn out, and the five o'clock whistle called them to the -surface. A strange land theirs of gloomy tunnelled ways; a land of -shadows dancing before moving candles; a land of roofs which dipped and -soared; a land of grim, cheerless walls and floors, patched with damp, -where black holes opened out and ladders led up and ladders led down; -a land of changing colours as here and here the green copper looked -out from its hiding place. In such a country lived the men of Surprise -Valley between the two whistles of the day. - -At the house of Mr. Neville, manager of Surprise, November was accepted -with small complaint. Many a dawn of day, every set of sun found Selwyn -striding like an honest man into the bush. Lean and pinched he showed -at early morning, hat tilted jauntily forward, cigarette end pushed out -below his clipped moustache, trusty gun under hooked right arm. Leaner -still he looked at evening, as he followed his long shadow across the -ground, marching towards a gully in the hills, where one might blunder -on the Lord knew what--kangaroo, wallaby, or even a python. A python, -be Gad! at one's very back door! - -Each November morning Mrs. Selwyn, after privately counting off one -more day to departure, took a book to the verandah, and sat in the -cool to read a little and observe a good deal more. She was discreetly -watching for evidence of the truth of Hilton's news. It was more than -likely that he had got hold of the wrong end of the stick; still it -was worth while discovering if there was anything in the story. If -there was truth, the girl certainly had no inkling of the matter. She -looked a little tired and worried now and then; but this impossible -country would wear anyone out. It was a shame to think of her buried -here indefinitely. She must think about asking her down for the summer. -Thank goodness half the stay was over. Their rainy season began next -month, and she was going to make certain of not being cooped up here -then. - -Of that household only Maud Neville found November more miserly of the -hours than October. She was living her tragedy alone. - -She explored the frailties of the human spirit--found the heights it -could climb in a courageous hour, and followed it down into dark ways. -It seemed angel and devil waited on her, clanging in turn for entrance. -When she opened to the kind spirit she grew careless of her own hurts, -and only was glad that she loved a man who was in trouble and whom -she might have skill to help. When the demon came in at the door he -whispered her she was a woman who loved a man, and who had been loved -by him once upon a time. Now, with lips which had kissed her, the man -kissed the robber who had stolen him away, and held that robber in the -arms which once supported her. At such times she cried she was learning -to hate this turncoat. If presently he would come riding up to sit -beside her with long face, she would cry, "Begone to your child who -bids you click and unclick her gate." - -One terrible minute spent at this time with her father, more than all -her resolutions, saved her from the melancholy which was falling upon -her, and determined her to carry abroad again an untroubled face. She -stood in the dining-room before lunch, trifling the moments away, when -the old man stamped in, hat cocked to one side, pipe in mouth, heavy -walking-stick in clutch. He was flushed from the sun and short of -breath; but he blundered to the attack. - -"Hey, Maud, what's this that's running round the place? Jim Power -playing the double business with you. In a mess with that girl of -Gregory's. I may be wrong, but I reckon I know how to settle that kind -of thing. I may be wrong, huh, huh! No man plays fast and loose with a -girl of mine. I'll have the blackguard kicked off the lease next time -he----" The old man came to a standstill. - -She had shown him a face grey with rage. Her words were colder than -drops of ice falling upon snow. - -"How dare you come in like this, father, blustering your way into a -business where you have no concern! Jim and I can keep our house in -order, and our very best thanks to you. How dare you come in like this, -father, without apology to us?" - -The old man took his pipe from his mouth the better to meet the attack. -His shaggy white eyebrows bristled. "Goodness! girl, don't lose your -head like that. I heard wrong, I reckon, in the town just now." He -put back the pipe in his mouth and gathered confidence. "Well, that's -all to be said about the matter, Maud, only a bit of news to remember -is--nobody plays the game of do-as-you-please with my daughter. I may -be wrong, huh, huh!" Then he scrambled about and went out of the room. - -While the slothful lips of November counted away the days--if at that -time Maud plucked all the strings of the lyre, and sounded high melody -and awaked rough discord; if she fingered all the stops of feeling, -the man she loved made music no less wild. As hope shuttered her -lodge behind him, as despair came as neighbour to his street, he grew -careless of opinion, thoughtless of the future, and with an appetite -eager only to lap clean the dish of the present. Love was revealed as -a light, blinding him who looked there to all but its brightness. As -he stumbled towards it, calling out loud for a veil, it moved away. -All his hurry and loud cries brought him no nearer, as a man may climb -mountain upon mountain and never reach the stars. - -As he grew mad, he grew wise with a cheerless wisdom. He rode to the -river; he rode away; again he rode to the river. To-night he held in -his arms the child he loved, and covered her with kisses. To-morrow -he would hold her thus again. But ever Love fled him as he came. Ever -Love turned in flight to mock him. Ever Love danced away on rosy -toes. Strange teaching this--that a man can own the House of Love, -and stamp adown the house from garret to cellar, and not on one couch -find Love awaiting him. This child would lie in his arms through long -minutes, would kiss back his kisses at his command, and press back his -embraces--and all the passion spent on her passed over her, as when -the clouds open on an autumn day, and the sun runs across the waiting -field. As he sealed her eyes with kisses, behold they were sleepy with -dreams another had laid there; as he stopped her mouth with his mouth, -the taste of another's lips sweetened her own. Who knows that if her -shallow little soul had cried to him then down the distance that his -spirit might not have found sight and seen the poor thing it pursued. -So Love might have wearied in the chase. But because this small thing -fled him, he must snatch up his torch to follow, and among the high -shadows of its leaping fire, surely one was the shadow of the thing he -hunted. - -He grew a tattered hermit of the woods who said good-bye and stole back -as the night grew old to glide among the trees and watch the light fall -from her doorway. Hither and thither he passed, that he might hear her -laugh from here, that his ears might woo her voice from there, that -now her shadow might cross the window as ointment for his eyes. The -flying-foxes saw him at his watch, and high above the tree tops white -stars stared down. - -The light would go out in her hut, and for a little while the ghost of -a light would peer through the pale wall of her tent. Did she pray in -those few moments as she robed herself for sleep? Was she kneeling in -that poor tent at her rough bed, vestured in white with her shining -hair fallen unlooped about her? Did her straight white narrow feet push -under the hem of her gown, with toes bent upon the surly ground? Did -she remember him in the little prayers that fluttered up to God? Did -she whisper a man loved her, who was in sore need of help? No. In her -brief life she had scarce heard the name of God. Her rich body was her -prayer. - -Hush! The light behind her wall is quenched. She is folding herself -for sleep. The stars lift their thousand candles above her. The forest -shall be the posters of her bed. These great bats fluttering across -the dark shall carry her kind dreams from utmost places. Hush! Another -pilgrim comes among the waiting trees, but not to stay like him with -lean face peering among the trunks. This pilgrim steals into the open -and raises the soft doorway of that darkened chamber. See her go in -with warning finger, poppies wreathed about her hair, poppies climbing -up her staff. She has gone in, and on the drowsy lips of that young -child has placed the largest poppy of all to rub out his rough kisses -of the day. - -Aye, now the child sleeps, and no longer need he creep wakeful here, -fingering the rough bark of trees, and stepping clumsy on loud twigs. -He can take himself home, and from his own tumbled bed shout loud on -timid Sleep to remember him. - -Sweet child who lies secure there, where now is your little soul -fleeing? What ripe field does it find for its walks? What wide-armed -trees hold out their shade to meet it? What flowers lift up their -perfumed cups to spy who passes? What painted birds cast out their -crystal notes from bush and briar to hail it? What purple hills pile up -behind to hide the shabby land where by day it is compelled to dwell? -Sweet child, in pity tell this tattered watchman that he may lace -winged sandals to his feet, and in a brighter country sweep forward in -the flight. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -THE ERRAND TO THE POOL - - -On the afternoon of the last of those November days Maud Neville chose -again the road to Pelican Pool. She had learned of Power's banishment -until dark to a corner of the run, and so might take the way without -fear of a meeting. Time, if a slow leech, was proving of service, and -misery had been exchanged for a jog-along content. - -The picture was discovering its proportions, and, from the chair of -justice, she could examine it and pronounce verdict. It was crudely -drawn when studied thus. A man ran crying for a prize which he would -throw away as soon as gained. He demanded the meagre thing because it -stayed out of reach. There was humour in the picture if one was in the -mood to see it. - -To-day an idea had come, building itself to shape during the morning. -As a result, when lunch was over, she had saddled the chestnut horse -again and taken the road to the river. - -As she left the stable, Mr. King crossed to the office. He waited for -her in the path, and she pulled up the horse. - -"Aren't you very energetic so early in the day?" - -"One has to do something for a change, even if one becomes energetic. -Life is rather like those travelling shows that find the way here -sometimes. You have to clap and laugh loud in case you yawn your head -off." - -"I would sooner yawn than clap on a day like this. Where are you off -to?" - -"Somewhere. Anywhere. As the spirit shall move." - -She felt friendly towards this man, who stood wrinkling his face at the -sunlight--a little slow, a little stout, and rather middle-aged. He too -was tangled in this stupid net. Could he have guessed it, she was in no -better case than he. He might have guessed it. The laugh might be his -as much as hers. - -"Sometimes life moves fast enough to prevent one yawning," he said. - -"So you have told me lately. Then you still look for copper by Pelican -Pool? You are a good miner, Mr. King. You follow the lode to its end." - -"Did you think the fool ever learns from his folly?" he said. - -"As much as the wise man garners from his wisdom." - -"What, the sage is the fool grown old and bloodless?" - -"Why not the spectator who leaves the arena to watch from the box." - -"But will he seek the box, before he has lost in the arena? First, -must he not be broken by the other wrestlers, and come second in the -footrace?" - -"Perhaps so, Mr. King." - -"I must get under the tree, here. The sun never agrees with me after -lunch. That's better. Now I am ready for your profoundest philosophy. -Have you any for me?" - -"Mr. King, I want you to be serious for once." - -"What do you want?" - -"Now don't be angry. Do you think it right to run after this girl? She -is very young." - -"Right? There are no such things as right or wrong." - -"I said be serious." - -"I am serious. There are no such things as right or wrong. Mark me the -virtuous one. Find me the sinner. Some are born godly--a fig then for -their virtue. Some have no wish for narrow ways. Who shall point a -finger at them? Some struggle and win or lose. They who win have been -lent strength--where then their virtue? They who lose were denied aid. -Where is their vice? Foolish human souls all of us, given the hopes of -angels and the bodies of beasts." - -"Fine big words, Mr. King." - -"And if virtue exists, where is its reward? Does the gardener turn his -spade from the worm that tills his garden. Does the fowler cast less -wide his net lest he trap the song bird that soothed him overnight. The -old ox to the shambles. The old horse to the knacker." - -"Come, I am not to be bluffed. Don't you think you ought to leave such -a child alone?" - -"But why must I let be and others go on? Besides, her arms are very -wide." - -"How can you talk like that, Mr. King. I thought you were fond of her. -You have made me angry now." - -She drew the reins together and Stockings passed at a fast walk across -the plain. Presently the green belt of the river had risen out of the -horizon, and later they had come among the first trees. As she was -carried into the nobler timber, and saw the ribbons of water among -laced boughs, and met the pleasant play of light and shade, and felt -the cooler ways, and heard the call of birds in hidden places, the -charm of this quiet spot beside the river affected her magically as it -had done three weeks before. Indeed, this time she felt better able to -face circumstance. Then she had been an untried soldier, firm enough of -purpose, but one whom the first whistle of bullets had shocked. Three -weeks of war had proven her. - -She rode' to the edge of the water. She found the fair scene had no -whit altered--unless the margin of the Pool had shrunken--unless the -great white lilies had tired of blooming, and slept now beneath the -water until another year should revive them--unless the sun, climbed -higher in the sky, stared down more unkindly. - -After a space spent thus, with Stockings standing beneath her like a -rock, she turned over what was to be done. She frowned a little and -nursed her lip. It was not a pleasant errand she had come on, nor one -with a beginning easy to find. She had come to talk with the girl that -lived here, and bring her to a decision. She must give Jim yes or no. -Let her have him if she wanted; but let her say so. This could not go -on. His character was being sapped away. Let the girl take him and he -would have what he wanted, or let her send him away and he must pull -himself together. It did not matter to her--Maud. Things had gone too -far. The worst had been over a long time, and she could look the future -in the face. She was sure she did not care now as acutely as once she -had done. She would do him this kindness for old times sake, and -then she must begin to put him out of her life. But it was a hateful -business. She might meet scorn at the girl's hands--worse, Jim might -hear of her errand and think she was willing to throw pride away, if -by hook or by crook she could clutch back his affection. Well, love -must go on many services, and the trusted servant travels always by -unkindest ways. - -She ordered Stockings forward, and he backed from the edge of the Pool -into the trees and followed the bridle path where soon the camp would -discover itself. The gentle birds piped them down their passage. The -hut came out among the trees. It looked mean and shabby from long -wooing by the weather. The hessian walls were drooping and the tents -had crumbled. - -She pulled up the horse before he had carried her from the shelter of -the trees. She was disturbed again as to what to do. She must pretend -to come that way by chance. And how do that? She might ride up to the -door and ask for a cup of water. And then father or mother might open -to her. Well, things would happen as they would happen, and wit was the -serving man to enlist. - -When she was ready to give Stockings the signal to advance, he lifted -his ears. She followed their direction and discovered she was watched. -Next instant she found the watcher was the girl she had come to find. -The child must have gone among the trees to gather dead branches for -firewood, and now stood there among the trunks, as still as they, -staring at her boldly. The figure might have been a dryad pausing on -the instant before flight. Its loveliness wounded her as though a -dart had been cast at her. Who could look upon such beauty and after -be content with less? She touched the flank of her big horse, and he -carried her across the space still to traverse. He came to full stop -when she tightened the reins. - -She must be the first to speak. The girl had stood unmoved the while, -looking her boldly in the face. She wondered if she guessed her name -from hearsay. - -"That must be hot work for the middle of the day. It would have waited -for evening. But I'm setting no better example, am I, riding about the -country like this? I was glad to find these trees." - -She looked the girl over from head to foot. She judged her to be -eighteen years old or no more than nineteen, but a flower which had -come quick to bloom. She looked her over with uncharitable eyes, but -nowhere found fault. She gave up the task to tell herself never had -she seen such beauty. The girl returned stare for stare. - -"I was gettin' a few sticks together," Moll Gregory answered. "Dad went -off without chopping a thing this morning, and we've run short." - -"Are you in a hurry to be back with them?" - -"No. Why?" - -"I've made myself hot. This looks a nice place to spend a minute or -two. Will you keep me company a little while? I must soon go on." - -Maud dismounted, the better to push matters forward. As she patted -the old horse she looked about for a seat. A fallen tree lay at hand, -and she dropped the reins upon the ground and sat down upon it. Moll -Gregory stood where she was, her eyes wide open. It seemed solitude -had not taught her to be shy. It occurred to Maud she must not delay. -At any moment the father or mother might come out of the doorway and -opportunity be gone. - -"You have a lovely place to live in," she said. "But you must find it -out of the way. It's a long fag to Surprise." - -"It's a treat for us. There isn't too much doing round here." - -"I dare say. But loneliness has not kept you quite hidden. You are -better known than you may think. I had heard of you before we met -to-day. You are Moll Gregory, aren't you? You know a friend of mine. -Mr. Power, of Kaloona. He told me about you once. He said he had met -you in his travels." - -The eyes which looked at her big with curiosity fell asleep all in a -moment. But the change made their loveliness no less lovely. - -"Yes, I know Mr. Power." - -"I'm a great friend of his. We have been friends a long time. Almost -brother and sister. We tell each other most secrets." - -She wished the girl would say something. But instead, Moll Gregory -continued to stand before her, beautiful and sulky. It was the sense -of hurry in the matter that found her courage to go on. "Yes, we are -pretty staunch friends," she said desperately. She took courage in both -hands. "He told me how fond he had become of you lately." - -"Mr. Power is a poor sort of feller to go running about with tales." - -The insult brought speech crowding into her mouth. "When you know Mr. -Power a little better you will find him to be no very expert merchant -of stories. Friend to friend is an honest enough matter. And as a -matter of fact----" She stopped. She had not courage to say she had -been her own bloodhound. - -"Well, and what about it?" - -"I suppose there's not much to say about it, is there, since it's no -affair of mine? But I hear my friend has little enough to be glad over, -for it seems you don't care much for him. I'm his friend, and so I'm -sorry. That's all." - -"He thinks that, do he?" - -"And is it true?" - -"That's my business, isn't it?" - -"It's nobody's business that I have ever heard to let a man make -himself miserable, and for his pains give him neither no or yes." - -"A girl don't always ask a man to come crying after her. You don't -expect a girl to nurse every man that runs at her skirt." - -"There is such a thing as kindness." - -Moll Gregory shrugged her shoulders. - -"Don't think Mr. Power sent me here to plead for him. He can look after -himself in most cases I have found. But I am so great a friend of his -that it distresses me to see him so unhappy. The quicker he is sent -about his business the sooner he will find cure. I hate to interfere; -but it was for old acquaintance sake I came along to-day to ask you to -help me put things into better shape. I tell you Mr. Power is a changed -man this last month. It hurts me keenly to see him come to this." - -"I will tell him the worry he's givin' you." - -"You must never say a word about this visit." - -"Why not? You are a kind friend." - -"You must not say one word." - -"Not say Miss Neville called? The Miss Neville as was going to marry -him." - -She could have cried aloud at the hurt, and the next moment a cold -courage possessed her. "You cannot hurt me like that," she said in a -level voice, "and I have done my best to take care of your feelings. -True, I am engaged to Mr. Power, and we should have been married had he -not become fond of you. I have spent a good many unhappy hours lately, -as no doubt you suppose; but no anxieties of my own would have brought -me here to haggle and bargain. That might have happened when I lost my -head in the beginning; but I have had long enough to look things in the -face and accept what must be. Understand me then, I am still fond of -Mr. Power in spite of what has happened and I want to do what I can to -help. If you have ever loved a man, you will believe me. If you don't -know what love is, you will have to think as you like, and I suppose I -shall be none the worse or better for the verdict." - -"There's others have been in love besides you, Miss Neville. There's -others have had their kisses." - -"Kisses! I mean something more than kisses. When you are older you -won't weigh love by kisses. You will find love grows deeper down than -the kisses that stop in the doorway of your mouth. You will find love -sending you on errands like this one I am come on to-day, and you will -be grateful enough to run them, though all you buy is rudeness and -scorn. Love is a queer plant when you sow it properly. It makes shade -for some one man, and you find yourself glad to sit in the open and -watch it grow. Come, I am talking wildly again." - -"Have him if he's to be got. I'm not breaking my heart what comes." - -"Don't let us quarrel. I know you've not asked for my visit. I shall be -glad enough to find it done; but we have come together, and let us see -together a little while. I have made a bad beginning. I meant to speak -gently." - -Moll Gregory turned away impatiently. It seemed they had come to a -deadlock; but help was at hand. There were the sounds of steps, and a -man of moulting appearance with tools upon his shoulder came out of the -trees towards the hut. He was passing out of their direction, but he -threw a glance over his shoulder before going far on the way. He saw -them at once, and stopped. - -"Hullo, Moll, gel, out of doors? And a visitor, too. Why, it's Miss -Neville from Surprise." He came across at a clumsy, fawning run. "It's -Miss Neville, and I'm very pleased to meet you. You may have heard of -me from the old gentleman your father. As nice an old gentleman as one -would meet in a day's work. Miss Neville, to be sure, doin' us this -honour. Miss Neville come our way." A dirty hand was pushed forward. -Gregory began to hump his shoulders, pluck his beard and swell his -chest. "Well, Miss Neville, and what can have brought you all this way -in the heat?" - -"I was passing and thought it looked cool among the trees. But I must -be away again. I've rested long enough." - -Maud moved towards the horse; but Gregory became more friendly. "You -won't be gettin' back yet, Miss Neville? Oh, no, Miss Neville, we can't -let you go. The missis is inside there. Moll here can get tea going in -a minute. Mother! Are you there?" - -The woman came out of the house, and stared in their direction. - -"Miss Neville from Surprise has come our way. You can give her a taste -of tea, can't yer? Come inside, Miss Neville. Yes, we folk will be in a -bad way when we have no seat for Miss Neville. A-haw, haw, haw! A-haw, -haw, he, haw!" - -"No thanks, I'm sorry. I must be going at once. If I am round these -parts again I won't forget to call and find out who is at home. I must -be going at once. I'm sorry to look so rude." - -"Come, Miss Neville, it's not many visitors ride our way. We've not -much to offer, but its our best when you comes. The show has gone down -into a hundred foot of rock, and storekeepers aren't too flash with -tick just now. But there's always our best for Miss Neville." - -There seemed a press about the horse, but Maud was firm in purpose and -mounted. She hated the greedy face of the man. She liked no better -the lovely features of the girl. She was in a rage with herself for -considering the undertaking. The man and the woman in the doorway of -the hut were exchanging glances at her back. - -"Good-bye," she said, as she drew together the reins. "You mustn't -think me rude, but I have to get along." - -She would have walked over the man had he not stepped out of the way. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -THE BOTTOM OF THE VALLEY - - -When the same afternoon had worn to evening, Power rode down to the -river. His comings and goings at the hut passed unremarked. Gregory -kept always ready his loud welcome, and his wife asked no questions and -made no difficulties. - -Power arrived every evening at sunset, and spent by the Pool the -first hours of dark. For this end he endured the remainder of the -day. He walked now on the very bottom of the valley into which he had -descended. He rode no more to Surprise, and, calamity on calamity, he -was losing Mick O'Neill, his friend. Gloom bestrode a third horse when -they rode together on the work of the run, until by one accord they -sought each other out as little as need be; and in mute agreement came -to visit here, the one when the other should be gone. - -The sun had gone down on the edge of the plain when Power reached the -Pool. As he entered the trees darkness was falling, and the stars were -coming out. When the horse brought him into the clearing the lamplight -looked from the doorway of the hut in a broad beam and voices met him -from indoors. He tethered the beast in an old place and put the saddle -on end at the foot of a tree. Before he had done Moll Gregory was -standing in the doorway of the hut. - -"Is that you, Jim?" - -"Yes, Molly." - -He went across to her. Father and mother were within. Gregory swung on -his seat in anxious welcome, and the woman nodded good-night. The four -of them talked together for a little while. - -"Round agen to see us?" cried Gregory. "Been about the run to-day I -reckon from the look of you. Hot work moving about in the middle of the -day. It don't seem to cool off at night now. The rains must be coming." - -"It looks like it," Power answered. - -"Have you heard what's happened?" said the woman. "The boss here -ran into Mr. King yesterday. Mr. King won't touch the show since it -went into the hard stuff, and says the boss owes him twenty quid or -something and has a paper to show it." She turned bitterly on Gregory. -"You always was a fool rushing to sign things." - -"I had to keep going somehow, mother." - -Moll raised her head. "I'll fix it, dad, when he's round next." - -"I suppose things aren't too good lately?" Power said. - -"I reckon they aren't. Since the show turned out a fake, there's not a -bob to be raised anywhere. They're turning up tick at the store; too. -They growl if you ask for a tin of dog." - -"I reckon, Dad, Mr. Power might give us a hand until things was better, -if it was put to him," said the woman. - -"Is that what you are after?" Power answered. - -"A-haw, haw, haw! We wouldn't say no if you made the offer," said -Gregory, showing his dirty teeth. - -"I'll think about it." - -"There's a gentleman for you, mother! Put it here, Mr. Power." Gregory -pushed out a dirty hand. - -"It's early yet," Power answered from the doorway. - -Presently Power and Molly were wandering among the trees--the night -fallen upon them, dark, hot and murmurous with tiny voices. - -They wandered along old ways, and said again old sayings, and did again -old deeds. Who shall answer why she was ready to wander with him night -by night through these majestic ways, taking his kisses, lying within -his arms, and caring nothing for him? Lips set upon lips--no more -could his kisses mean to her. Perhaps she had grown so lonely that she -could bid no one begone. Perhaps twenty years of that hot land had set -in flames her little heart. Perhaps it was her doom to fan fever and -make men mad. Why did he come and come again, a threadbare lover, the -despised even of himself? Why was he so unwearying with his embraces, -unless it was because he had become an amorous wandering Jew, who had -scoffed once at pure lips, and must now kiss for ever, and for ever -fail to set passion afire. - -They sat down presently on a fallen tree lying among the climbing -grasses at the upper end of the Pool. Night by night he and she from -their seat there had remarked the margin of the water shrink from them. -To-night they sat down again--he to wonder at his madness, she to do a -hundred wanton acts--to tease the dog, to toss boughs upon the water -and hark to the sudden splash. - -"Molly, what did you mean just now when you said you would make things -right with Mr. King? Twenty pounds is twenty pounds to him and always -will be." - -"Aw, I didn't mean much. I know how to fix him. That's all." - -"Child, you don't have dealings with him now, do you? You told me you -never saw him." - -"I can't help it if he comes. He's not this way too often." - -"What terms are you on with him? Tell me the truth." - -"It's not to do with you, I reckon, what our terms are. I've been kind -to you when you asked me." - -"You don't understand. All men are not like me. I sit here night by -night hanging my hands, too fond of you to do you harm. But other -men----. Tell me. I won't be angry. Has he ever persuaded you too far?" - -"A gel only lives once. You told me that yourself." - -"Molly! If half the world comes knocking on your door must you let them -all in?" - -"You could have had as much as him. Wake up, Jim. There's news for you." - -"I don't feel like news just now." - -"We had a stranger round these ways to-day. Guess who." - -"I am a poor guesser." - -"Guess." - -"Man or woman?" - -"Woman." - -"I don't know a woman to come all this way. Not Mrs. Elliott, -forgotten to-night's supper, and climbed on to a horse?" - -"Miss Neville." - -"Maud!" - -"Her." - -"Well," he said coldly after a moment. "What have you to tell me?" - -"There's nothing to tell. I thought it news for you, that's all." - -"She must have ridden this way for a change. She often rides." - -"She came to see Moll Gregory, and she saw Moll Gregory." - -"What is it you are wanting to tell me? Be quick if you mean to say -anything." - -"That's not the way to ask for news." - -"Very well. We won't discuss her further." - -"You and she is too grand for us poor people. She came here on a like -high racket to ask me to give you yes or no, and she tells me it's not -on her account she's come; but because she is sorry for you. She says -if I have loved somebody I'll know what she means. I can count a feller -for every feller of hers." - -"That's enough." - -"What's enough?" - -"Enough said. We've talked enough of this." - -"Turning sulky now. Miss Neville will be kind to you if you go back." - -"Molly, there's a good child, don't tease my temper any more. We'll -talk of what you like, but forget this one thing. Why should I say a -word in her defence? How does she need it, who is so far from our reach -that you can't understand her, and I haven't the skill to price what -I have lost? If you want to learn what love is go to her with your -lesson books. All I have done has been of no account. You and I, child, -could kiss on and on for ever, and with us all the crying lovers who -count love a mere spending of kisses; and all those kisses kissed would -fly up in the scales when what she had to bring was laid in the other -balance." - -He fell into a sudden black mood--an evil habit he had learned lately. -He remembered he sat upon the fallen tree, and at his feet in the -coarse grasses lay the loveliest woman he would ever look upon. The -night was shrill with tiny voices, and endless lightnings opened and -closed the skies, but for the time these things did not affect him. - -It seemed he was coming to the bottom of the cup whose rim his lips -had held for so long. The last drops were against his mouth and the -sediment was on his tongue. And, lo! it appeared as if some virtue in -the sediment quickened the eyesight of the spirit, for at last he could -point a finger and say _there_ was substance and there shadow. Lo! -what he had once thought substance was now revealed as shadow, and what -he had believed shadow was assuredly substance. - -He woke up when the child laid a hand in his own. "Say something, Jim, -or I am going home." He kissed her very gently and started to talk to -her. But from that hour his passion began to die. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -THE SELWYNS RETURN SOUTH - - -November counted away its days, and tramped down the long stairs of -Time. At its heels arrived December. Now was Summer at last begun in -this far land. - -Seven days of every week a fiery sun rolled through a wide, high, empty -sky. Seven noons of every week discovered that sun mounting a little -higher. All day long the roofs of the iron houses glared across the -distance, and the walls answered hot to the touch. But Surprise--and -all that lies within its gates--was not dismayed. Evening by evening, -when the sun was getting to bed, frowning clouds banked upon the -horizon, and Mrs. Boulder, Mrs. Bloxham and Mrs. Niven, gasping in the -doorways of their humpies, looked southward and said the rains were -coming. And Boulder, Bloxham and Niven put an eye to the roof here, and -an eye to the wall there, and thoughtfully picked up hammer and twine. -But always in the morning, when the sun rolled out of the East, the -least cloud had fled away. - -Round went the wheel of affairs at Surprise Valley. The whistle blew -shrill at eight o'clock, and the waiting cage emptied the men into the -dark ways of their subterranean world. Overhead the women bustled about -their doors, and the children, grown a little browner and a little -harder, pattered about the burnt places and sent abroad their calls. -Mr. Neville, manager, made his tumultuous early round. Mr. Horrington, -general agent, made his nine o'clock march to the hotel. The teams -groaned in with firewood. The weekly coach rolled in and out again. The -same goats examined once more the same thread-bare strips of ground. -The same long-tongued curs dropped down in familiar patches of shade. - -Early in December Mrs. Selwyn put her foot down finally and to good -purpose. She would not be cooped up in this desperate place with a -prospect of presently drowning. If Hilton would not come he could stay -behind and take the consequences; but she was going by the very next -coach. How they would survive the journey in this heat was beyond her -powers of comprehension. Landing her here without an idea for getting -her away was exactly what Hilton was capable of. - -Selwyn bowed to his wife's decision. Here he was, asked to pack up -traps for home just as the river was at its lowest and there was some -thundering good crocodile shooting to be had. Soft-hearted fool that he -was! - -As a result there fell about a great packing up of rods and guns, and -a strapping of trunks; and a grey December dawn found the Neville -homestead up and awake and hard engaged upon the utmost business of -departure. A fire kept vigil in the kitchen, conjured there by Mrs. -Nankervis who had forsaken bed to speed a favourite guest. There was -coffee in the dining-room, and a generous breakfast of bacon and eggs, -though Mrs. Selwyn could not touch a thing. Fortunately Selwyn was -better able to prepare against the rigours of the day. - -Breakfast proved an uneasy meal, disturbed by comings in and goings -out, with Selwyn wandering between the window and the table, and -Neville strolling round, stick in one hand and coffee cup in the other. - -"Well," said Selwyn presently, feeling considerably better now he could -boast a decent lining to his stomach, "you people have given us a -first-rate time here, and you wouldn't have got rid of me yet had I my -way. Gad! I'm a different fellow." He smiled benignly on the assembled -company, and presently met Maud's answering smile. "Some day we may -have the good luck to find the way here again. In any case we are soon -to see you down South I hear?" - -"I promised to come next month." - -"I wish we could tempt you too, Mr. Neville," Mrs. Selwyn said. - -"Eh?" said the old man, jerking about. "Thanks, but I've no time to be -running round the country." - -"Yes," said Selwyn, taking hold of the conversation again. "I think -perhaps I shall be wise to have another go of marmalade and toast. -There's nothing like starting a journey well supplied. A couple of -months back I couldn't touch a thing. Not a thing. Now I feel another -man. I----" - -"Haven't you a little pity for us at this hour of the morning?" Mrs. -Selwyn enquired. - -A terrific frown settled on Selwyn's face. - -"I was listening," said Maud. "I was very interested." - -Selwyn beamed again. - -"You had better get on with the toast then," said Neville, "or ye'll -be waiting another week. The fellow doesn't like keeping his horses -hanging about. He'll be away without you. I may be wrong. Huh, huh!" - -Mrs. Selwyn scorned a buggy, and insisted upon walking to the coach. -The clock pointed the final minute. Selwyn dodged to the back premises -to say his most charming good-bye to Mrs. Nankervis, and with the -last hand-shake slipped the smiling sovereign into her clasp. After -something of a to-do he brought the dogs round to the front where the -rest of the party waited, and they set out upon the journey to the -coach. Mr. King had turned a deaf ear to the amours of bed and joined -them upon the road; and the company made a bold line advancing across -the drowsy distances of Surprise. - -Day had arrived, but the sun still delayed its arrival. - -"It seems perfectly incredible to be awake in this place and not see -the sun," said Mrs. Selwyn. - -Selwyn shook his head in deep appreciation of himself. "You had my -example." - -The day was still in swaddling clothes; but already the men and women -of Surprise were waking up. Surly fires were growing here and there. -Mrs. Boulder was in time to peer from her doorway at the backs of the -retreating company; Mrs. Niven stopped her discourse to Niven as she -heard voices across the distance; and Messrs. Bullock and Johnson, who -were outside their camps at a morning wash, stayed in the towelling of -their faces to view the noble sight. It was the week for the visit of -Mr. Pericles Smith, travelling schoolmaster, and his two tents stood -erect and stiff by the side of the way. As the party of five marched -by, a woman's voice was raised. - -"Perry, aren't you very late this morning? There was not a stick of -wood chopped last night." - -From the other tent came answer: "In one moment, dear." - -"Ah, Perry, you are not wasting time at that rubbish, already?" - -But this time came only a groan and the sound of someone rising to his -feet. - -The harmony of excursion was nowise upset until the party had arrived -within near view of the hotel, before which stood the ancient coach -and the five goose-rumped horses asleep in the traces. Then Selwyn, on -the flank, started back. The eyes of all turned to the doorway of the -hotel. Mr. Horrington stood upon the step, stick in one hand, empty -tobacco pouch in the other--perhaps a little seedy, perhaps a little -depressed, because of the early hour; but firm in the intention of -giving his friend bon voyage. - -Selwyn's hand glided towards a pocket and there found comfort. - -"Be Gad!" he said, "I expected to slip to covert behind his back, and -here he is standing at the mouth of the earth." - -"You ask for the loan of half-a-crown," said Neville, jerking his head. -"He, he! Huh, huh, huh!" - -Mr. Horrington lifted his stick in majestic salutation. "You didn't -expect me, I dare say. However, I had no intention of letting an old -friend slip away without a handshake." He laughed his rusty laugh. -He recalled suddenly the empty tobacco pouch in his hand. "Here's -the result of coming away in a hurry. I neglected to replenish this -morning. Five minutes ago I was thinking of stoking up the first pipe -of the day when I saw what had happened. How about the loan of a -pipeful? I am always covetous of a dip into your pouch, Mr. Selwyn. -Really, I must get the address of your tobacconist before you are off." - -Then indeed it seemed that Mr. Horrington led that party of three men -through the doorway of the hotel, and later that Mr. Horrington drank -three times at the expense of other people. Later still, when the -quartette came out into the open, where the sun's rim was climbing over -the horizon, it seemed that Selwyn's eye was shining and himself full -of a sudden energy, that Mr. King stepped more briskly than was his -wont, and that old Neville's laugh was a trifle loud. - -Time would not listen to delay, and there arrived the final moments. -The Selwyn luggage was strapped secure beside the mail-bags, and -Scabbyback and Gripper now found an uncharitable seat atop there. Joe -Gantley climbed into the driver's seat and shook the team awake, when -they changed to other legs and dropped their heads once more. Mr. -Horrington ran his tongue along the edge of his moustache again. Joe -Gantley picked up his whip, put it down, picked it up a second time, -and gave the signal for passengers to mount. - -The company gathered close beside the coach. There arose many -exclamations and much shaking of hands. Last thanks were said. Last -promises were made. Last advice was given. Mrs. Selwyn mounted without -misadventure beside the driver. She still felt most unwell. She did not -know whether she was on her crown or her toes. Selwyn took his seat at -the end of the room, and discreetly and regretfully elbowed the way -into a good position. Everybody gave more last advice. Mrs. Selwyn -nodded her head graciously and finally. Selwyn smiled his most charming -smile. Maud laughed. Neville chuckled. Mr. Horrington raised his stick -augustly. King called out good luck. - -Joe Gantley drew the reins together and cracked his whip. The team -jerked into wakefulness and fell into their collars. The coach jerked -forward. Mrs. Selwyn and Selwyn jerked forward. Scabbyback and Gripper -jerked forward. There were a tapping of hoofs and a groaning of wood, -and the coach rolled towards Morning Springs. - -"Well," said the old man looking after it, "I may be wrong, huh, huh! -but I reckon we can get along without them. I may be wrong, huh, huh!" - -Such was the manner of the Selwyn going. - -Even as the coach rolled over the first mile of the journey, and grew -pigmy in the distance so that the loitering dust cloud concealed -it--even as it bumped across the outskirts of the camp--the crimson sun -cast savage glances across the valley, slashing the iron roofs to life, -livening the dingy walls of humpies and tents, and wooing the first -flies from sleep. Over all the camp breakfast fires were growing, and -men and women moved in and out of doors on the primal matters of the -morning. - -December, following the teachings of November, began to spend its days, -holding them out one by one and tossing them into the mouth of Time. -Each day proved a little longer and a little hotter to the people of -that courageous camp. But though the season drew presently towards the -height of the summer, Power found the days too short for the journey to -Surprise. - -While Maud lived her life at Surprise and gave events into the keeping -of Time, Power still rode to Pelican Pool, but his passion was near its -end. As his brain cooled, as his malady abated, he comprehended his -position with tragic clearness, and saw the high price of what he had -thrown away. His wealth was spent on other wares, and he could not hope -to buy it again. So be it. He had chosen a bed of thistles because the -flower had seemed soft and gracious, and he would lie on it without -complaint. And still he rode day by day to the river. - -December grew middle-aged, and every sunset painted once more the -swelling cloud wrack in the South, until the evening arrived when Mr. -Horrington borrowed from the staff messhouse the single boot-last of -Surprise, borrowed from the engine driver a piece of leather belting, -borrowed from elsewhere a hammer and cobbler's nails, and sat down to -re-sole his boots against grievous days. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE FAREWELL BY THE HUT - - -There dawned at last a day hotter and longer than any the summer yet -had sent. With break of morning banks of sullen clouds were rolling -out of the South into an empty sky. The sun sulked overhead, showing a -fitful fiery face, and the air rose steaming from the ground. Little -winds came out of the South, blew brief nervous breaths, and like silly -spendthrifts wore themselves to death. Before evening was come, the -men and women of Surprise had stood again and again in their doorways -to eye the sky, to snuff the air, and to declare the rains must break -before morning. - -In the teeth of these warnings, when afternoon wore out to evening, and -dark came down to shroud the stifled day, when in the high sky not one -star could find a porthole to look through, Power rode down to Pelican -Pool. Kaloona, as well as Surprise, had read the signs of the heavens, -and Power judged the storm would burst before dawn. Dark had fallen -half-an-hour when he guided his horse among the trees by the river. - -He drew rein on the edge of the clearing in the timber, and from his -seat in the saddle looked across the open. Through the doorway of the -hut, in a long bright beam, the light came to divide the dark. Molly -sat upon a box in the doorway against a background of light. Black she -seemed, and around her was a radiance of light, and outside the light -waited the steaming dark. She sat in a reverie, her elbows on her -knees, her chin in her hands, and when the sounds of the horse reached -her, she gave no sign other than calling out, "Is that you, Jim?" - -"Yes, Molly." Power took the saddle from his horse, and came into the -eye of the lamp. The hut was empty when he glanced inside. "Alone -to-night, Molly? Are they over at the shaft?" - -"No, they went to Surprise this morning. They reckoned to be home by -dark. I thought you might be them. Maybe Dad is soaked. Mum takes a -drop times, too." - -"They had better be back soon if they mean to be back dry. The rains -are here at last." A mutter of thunder began very far away. "Listen!" - -Power took off his hat and tossed it on the table in the hut. His -dress was a shirt wide open at the neck, and his sleeves were rolled up -above his elbows. But the night grew hotter moment by moment. Molly, -on the box, kept her chin in her hands and stared out into the dark, -and he felt no more talkative than she. He leaned back against the -doorpost. As he did so a second mutter of thunder began very far away. -The trees were wrapped from sight in the dark. Not one star peered from -the sky. - -"What's the matter, Molly? Have we left you too long alone? Your -little tongue has gone to sleep, thinking there was no more use for it -to-night." She did not answer, and he thought she shivered. He bent -down this time and spoke sharply. "What's making you shiver, child? You -have not a touch of fever, have you? You had better wrap up quick and -get away from the open." - -"It isn't fever." - -Something in her voice made him stoop down until they were face to -face. "What's the matter? You are changed to-night." - -"Aw, nothing is the matter." - -She would not look round, and must stare on into the dark. Power sat on -his heels on her right hand. He lit a pipe and waited for the strange -mood to pass away. He was damp with perspiration, and the sultriness of -the night rested on him like a weight. Then he heard a voice. - -"The old dog died to-day." - -"Bluey?" - -"Yes, Bluey." - -"Bad luck for Bluey. He was very old." - -"I reckon I shall miss him." - -"Did you bury him?" - -"I couldn't find the shovel. I chucked him in the trees over there. Dad -can fix him to-morrow." - -"Is that what you have been thinking of all to-night?" - -She ignored him again. The light from the doorway showed every line of -her perfect profile, and by putting out a hand he could have touched -the hair lying about her brows. Though he looked upon her beauty every -night, he never found it grow less wonderful; but now he discovered -with a curious sense of shame that he contemplated it with the calm -born of dying passion. He would never see again so rare a work of art -as this casket, but alackaday! he had opened the lid, and the delicate -thing was empty. - -"Jim, I was glad when you came along. It made me feel queer to leave -the old dog stretched out over there. Do you reckon it true folk -sometimes feel in their bones what is to happen?" - -"What have you got in your head, child?" - -"Maybe I am talking moonshine; but I can't get the notion off me that I -won't be long following the old dog." - -"Don't talk nonsense, Molly." - -She shrugged her shoulders in the brief fashion he found so charming. -The growl of thunder came a third time from the distance, grumbling -louder and enduring longer than the claps which had sounded before, and -on the echo of this final rumble a feverish breeze sprang up, and wooed -the hair upon her forehead and laid a kind breath against his cheek. -Power looked in the track of the storm and saw only the black sky. He -began to doubt if the burst would wait for midnight. He wanted to rouse -the child into better spirits, but himself must first summon courage to -shake off the oppression of the night. Now she was speaking again--to -herself as much as to him. - -"Maybe it isn't hard to die. The old dog was curled round quiet and -easy when I found him. Sometimes when I get fair sick of hearing mum -and dad and of doin' the same old things, I think it easier to be dead -than to start to-morrow." She broke without warning into low, charming -laughter. "When we have sat a few weeks inside there with the rain -coming through every crack of the roof and each of us fair tired of -looking at the other, we'll reckon it a better game to be dead than -alive." - -"Wise men say there is another life to be lived when this one is done -with, Molly." - -"I've heard that story before, Jim. There was a parson round our ways -once with a pack-horse. He reckoned there was more business when we had -done with this place. I got him talking, for I hadn't seen a feller for -a month. But I expect there isn't too much in the tale. What do you -think, Mister?" - -"Why Mister again?" - -"Jim." - -"If there is, let us hope we make less muddle of things next time." - -"Phew! it's hot. See the lightning. You will have a wet skin to go home -in. No, I don't want to die yet. Some things don't happen too bad. I'd -be sorry not to ride a horse again or to go fishing or to hear the -birds. It isn't too bad of a morning when the sun first comes over -the plain, and it isn't too bad to hear the noises in the scrub of a -night." She stopped to smile. "And I don't want to say good-bye to you -fellows." - -"So you like us just a little bit after all?" - -For the first time she gave up watching the dark and looked round at -him out of grave eyes. He was startled at their solemnity and wondered -what she was going to say. She laid a hand upon his arm. - -"Jim, you and me are near come to the end of things, aren't we? You -aren't always fretting to kiss me now as you was. I reckon soon you -will be quite through with me." - -"Molly!" - -"Yes, it is true." - -He said nothing, but presently he moved beside her and put an arm about -her. She was staring into the dark again, and he laid his cheek against -her cheek, and they looked together in the direction where the storm -was rolling up. - -"It is time to talk about things, Molly, and there is nobody to disturb -us. When the rains come, this riding to and fro will have an end. What -is to become of us all--tell me, child? Time never stops, you know. -Life never stands still. And it looks, doesn't it, as if a man or woman -can never go back, can never stay still even, but must go on? A long -while now three men have come day by day to offer you all they have, -but not to one of them have you yet nodded your head. I wish time knew -how to stand still, so that we could have stayed as we are for ever, as -though love like some enchanter had touched us with his wand; but time -is in a hurry, and I think at last you must choose one of us and send -the others gently about their business. Molly, whisper it. Who is it to -be?" - -"If you was a girl that lived alone all day with only an old dog as -mate, you wouldn't find it easy to shake your head when a man said he -liked you. Why are you always thinking and worrying so? Why don't you -let things be?" - -"It is time, it is not me, who won't let things stand still." - -"Jim, talk straight with me. You are through with me, aren't you?" - -"Molly, I would ask you to marry me, but I know we wouldn't be happy -very long." - -He felt her take her cheek away as though he had startled her. -Presently, when she spoke, her voice was more gentle than he had ever -known it. - -"You are a good fellow; but it don't make any difference, nor make me -think other of what I know. You have come to the end of me, and it is -only because you are a good fellow that you talk of marriage. There's -no need to worry over what has gone by. Kisses don't last long after -they are kissed, and a girl wouldn't come to much harm with such as -you." She laughed again. "Fancy me the wife of the boss of Kaloona. Mum -and dad have been rowing me about it since the start. You are a good -fellow to come here with a long face and talk about marriage, but you -always was a bit soft and none the worse for that." - -While she was speaking the breeze wore out in a final timid flutter, -and the heat returned to the night, and then, while he sat there -acknowledging with a certain grim humour her words left him unmoved, he -felt her nestle against him. - -"I would not marry you if you wanted, but I will give you a kiss -instead, for I know you are a straight fellow, and that is not -forgetting what has happened with you and Miss Neville. Come, Mister, -look this way." - -He bent his head and they kissed where the beam of light clove the -dark, and it seemed to him there was less passion and more fondness in -that kiss than in all the kisses they had kissed before. Presently he -took his lips from hers, and she laid her head upon his shoulder. - -"What has made you so kind to-night, Molly?" - -He was forgotten again. She was looking into the dark as though her -sight pierced it and regarded something beyond. He could see only the -outline of her head; but in imagination he looked into her eyes which -were sleepy with dreams. A flutter of wind sprang up again in the -South--a flash of light opened and shut the heavens--there followed a -row-de-dow of thunder. The sudden commotion no whit disturbed her; but -a moment after she was speaking. - -"Mister, I've got a queer feeling. It won't let me be. Something is -going to happen." She shivered again. "Do you reckon there are things -that come and go, and we can't see them?" - -"No, silly child. We have behaved badly to you. We left you alone all -day, and your little brain, which was not meant for hard thinking, has -been run away with by big thoughts. Come, we still have our talk to -finish. We are to tell the truth to-night, and the time has come for -you to choose one of us. Whisper me the name.... Molly, I am waiting -for it.... Molly.... Then I shall have to tell you. Mick is the name -that tangles up your tongue." - -"Poor Mr. Power." - -"I have always known." - -"And now you are glad." - -"Are you going to marry him, Molly?" - -"Some day maybe." - -"He is a straight man, child. You couldn't choose a straighter one." - -Once more the wind had fluttered itself to death. She lifted her hair -from her brows to cool her forehead. - -"It will be a real old man storm and the roof isn't too good. Mum and -Dad will be at it to-morrow as soon as the rain comes through. See the -lightning that time?" - -Now, in a mysterious way, the night began to cool, and a rush of wind -leapt up and swept towards them from the distance. It broke upon the -timbered country with a loud cry, clapping and clashing the boughs -together. And presently it plucked at the hair of his head and snatched -at the folds of her dress. And then it had swept by, leaving the night -cooler for its passage. - -"What are you thinking of, Molly?" - -"That was how you liked me, and now it has all blown away." - -"Don't talk like that." - -"When are you going to see Miss Neville?" - -"I never see her now. Things have become muddled past straightening -out." - -"But you will be seeing her soon, I reckon?" - -"No. I tried to sit on two stools, and I have fallen between them." - -She laughed gently, and put a hand into one of his. "Why are you so -stupid sometimes? You are always so fond of questions. It is my turn. -Jim, you are in love with Miss Neville, aren't you?" - -"Yes, Molly." - -"Then what's wrong?" - -"A good deal seems to be wrong, child." - -"When you sit there with a long face, I can't help teasing you. I -reckon you haven't learnt too much about girls yet. There's something I -can tell you, and don't frown and scowl at once. Miss Neville was round -these ways again this afternoon. Don't look like that, I said." - -"Go on, but be kind." - -"I won't tell you why she came nor what she said; but I didn't take her -up short this time. I was glad to see her, for the old dog dying had -made me lonely. When she was going away, she asked if I was marrying -you, and I thought to do you a daddy turn at last, for sometimes you -are a good fellow. I told her you was through with me, and that you -wanted her again only you was too high and mighty to go back. This is -straight wire, Jim." - -Silence fell between them. All the while now lightning opened and shut -the dark, and a grumble of thunder sounded in the sky. Molly was the -first to break the spell. - -"It's getting late. You had better be making home. The storm will bust -soon by looks of things, and you'll be washed off the road." - -"I don't like leaving you by yourself." - -"You'd better get. Dad and Mum will be back soon." - -"Perhaps you are right, Molly." - -They rose and walked together to the horse, which he saddled. He did -not unhitch the rein from the branch. Instead, he turned and drew Molly -close against him. - -"I shall never forget you, whatever happens to us. I shall always -remember you as something very lovely and evasive. Whenever I see a -tree in blossom, I shall think of you with a lantern in your hand. -Whenever I see a star fall down the sky, I shall think of the first -kiss I gave you. But, child, it is time we gave by our kissing. Your -kisses are for someone else, and I must ride my own roads. We shall -often see each other again, but this must be our real good-bye." - -"Jim!" was all she said, though she leant closer to him. - -They kissed their last kiss by the shrunken margin of Pelican Pool. The -cloud wrack blotted out the stars; but the trees lifted wide arms above -them. They kissed their last kiss in the heat and passion of the young -night, while the flying foxes glided on quiet wings over the tree tops, -and the insect armies fluttered on their many errands about the dark. -As Power felt her lips laid against his own, he experienced a surge of -regret and thankfulness--regret for what this summer madness had cost -him--thankfulness for the widened vision he had gained. Presently he -took his lips from her lips, and bending again, laid a chaste kiss upon -her forehead. Then he had drawn himself from her embrace, and had taken -the bridle rein in his hands. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -THE COMING OF THE RAINS - - -The storm burst in the middle of the night. A rush of wind came -with a high call out of the South and tore at the hessian walls of -Surprise with multitudinous fingers. It fell with upraised voice upon -the timbered country of Pelican Pool and swung together the heads of -the trees. It leapt in rage upon the staunch homestead of Kaloona so -that the timbers groaned beneath the buffet. There blazed through the -dark a sheet of light and the ghost of day stood an instant naked and -trembling. There sounded a roar of thunder. And at once the sky was -torn from end to end to let down the rains. - -The waters struck the iron roofs of Surprise and Kaloona with the shock -of a cataract. They flogged the bleached walls of the tents. They -lashed the ground, tearing the small stones from the soil. Ever and -again lightning ripped in shreds the dark and thunder pealed in the -skies. The wind came and went in giant claps. The minutes wore out -without any wearying of this rage. - -A sheet of water crept about the face of the country, exploring and -claiming the hollows of the land. Tiny torrents tumbled wherever the -ground was broken. Dry creeks woke to life and swept upon the journey -to the river. The grasses were beaten to the ground. The saplings -cowered and wrung their limbs. And ever new lightnings tore the dark in -pieces, and thunders cracked in the skies; even the voices of drumming -waters called in the dark in answer to the shouting of the wind. - -The storm thrust a way into the tenderer places of Surprise. It pushed -through the patches in the canvas roofs, and crept through the crevices -of the walls, streaming across the floors while Mrs. Boulder, Mrs. -Niven and Mrs. Bloxham, wakened from sleep, peered upon it from their -beds. - -Said Mrs. Boulder, putting forth a heavy hand for the matches and -nudging Boulder awake. "Stow that, man, and get to it. There's -something doing, I reckon." - -Mrs. Niven, striking a match upon like scene, lifted up dolorous voice. -"Are you never goin' to raise a finger to help me, but'll stay snorin' -there till the place falls in atop of us? There won't be a dry inch in -another half hour, an' not two sticks of wood chopped, I've no doubt." - -Over all the camp dismal lights flicker up behind the walls where -Bullock, Bloxham and Johnson pass barefooted upon their errands. - -At Kaloona the storm lasted through the hours of dark. The rain roared -up and down the iron roofs. The lightning flamed outside the windows. -The thunder bellowed in the sky. Ever and anon a hurricane of wind -clapped hold of the house and shook it, or for an instant the roar of -rain died, as though a sudden giant hand had plucked away the heavens. -As each blaze of lightning wrenched the landscape from the dark, Power -from his standing place by the window, and Mrs. Elliott and Maggie from -the security of bed, looked upon a country over which crept a wide -reach of water. - -Power was considering bed when the storm began and set him thinking -of other things. He lit a pipe and stood before the window spectator -of events. He stood for a long time without turning round, but left -his post presently, picked up the lamp from the table and made the -way down a passage. He stopped before a door and hammered upon it -until it opened. By the light of the lamp Mrs. Elliott was discovered -confronting him, more ample than ever in her wide nightgown. He -shouted at her above the cry of the rain. - -"How are you doing in there? Nothing coming through yet?" - -"O.K. to date, Mr. Power. Don't you worry for us. It looks as though -the whole place'll bust and go up in a cloud of smoke, don't it?" Mrs. -Elliott beamed upon him. - -"I'm just round the corner. Call me if you want me." He nodded -good-night and the door shut. Back in the sitting-room he put the lamp -on the table and took a stand once more by the window. - -He gave up all thoughts of bed. The cries of the storm and the lights -blazing through the window keyed up his nerves. He became full of -fancies of which Molly Gregory was the beginning and the end. He -reproached himself for not remaining until the others came back. In the -face of this tumult it seemed a brutal thing to have left the child -alone. But now the others would be back, and his fancies did no good. -Once more repenting the event! - -Then his thoughts made their way to Surprise. Was his punishment coming -to an end? If he went back and asked forgiveness, would he be forgiven? -Molly had told him yes. He had no right to hope for such a thing, yet -Maud knew now he loved her. And in truth he loved her as he had not -known how to love a woman a little while ago--loving her body, because -it was her body; but counting it of small value beside the spirit. Hope -was coming back to him to-night with the reviving influence of a cool -wind searching the forehead of a castaway in a desert place. - -The door by the verandah steps swung wide open. The storm swept inside -the house in a greedy gust. The curtains at the windows were caught up -in the air. The light leapt up the chimney of the lamp and went out. He -was in the dark. He ran across and pushed the door to. It buffeted him -on the shoulder. A glare of lightning lit up the house. He bolted the -door, came back and lit the lamp, and wiped the rain off his face. - -The endurance of this storm was remarkable. Commonly the rain was -spent within an hour and a lull came. If this did not abate the river -would be coming down. They were safe up here on the rise, but it was -another matter with the hut on Pelican Pool. Every few years there -came a flood which covered all that country. Surely Gregory could -look after himself. He was a bushman even if he was a fool. What was -he--Power--worrying about? He was depressed because he was damp and -circulation went down at this time and the jumping light thrown by the -lamp would give any man the blues. - -Finally, while Power stood there at odds with himself, the storm ceased -as suddenly as it had begun. - -The hush following on the heels of the tumult brought him abruptly out -of his thoughts. He left the room, pushed open the wire door, and stood -upon the verandah steps. The sky was covered with clouds over all its -face, causing the night to be pitch dark. The air was very cool. A -light wind felt the way hither and thither among the nodding boughs of -the saplings; and in all places were countless small voices of dripping -waters. - -A frog croaked from the direction of the river. A frog replied to it. -There followed several croaks, then many croaks. Presently in tens, -presently in scores, presently in hundreds were raised the voices of -the frogs. The chorus rose up everywhere. A-rrr! A-rrr! Mo-rrr-e! -Mo-rrr-e! More water! More water! More water! Then the thunder began -again in the South, and the lightning leapt across the dark. The second -storm rolled out of the horizon and broke upon the land. - -Later on Power found the way to bed; but he slept badly and quite soon -it seemed to be morning. - -Kaloona household woke up to a cheerless day. In a lull between the -storms light crept into the sky. Power from his window, Mrs. Elliott -and Maggie from the kitchen, stared upon a strange country. Heaven was -choked with frowning clouds looking down upon a broken land. Pools -of water filled the depressions. The higher country was beaten and -furrowed. Many boughs had been torn from the timber by the river. The -saplings bent piteously before the morning wind. Moisture dripped from -the leaves down and down until it reached the ground. In all places -tiny streams trickled about the country. A thousand small voices of -dropping waters murmured in open and hidden places. Louder than the -voices of the waters rose the concert of the frogs. - -"Meg," said Mrs. Elliott, coming into the damp kitchen first thing, -"we'll be drowned yet, mark me, before this is done." - -"It don't look too good," said Maggie. - -"It don't. There's worse to come," went on Mrs. Elliott, taking a look -into the wood box. "What's more, there wouldn't have been a dry stick -in the house if that horrid little man had had his way. I don't know -what the boss keeps him for." - -"The boss himself is got pretty cranky," said Maggie. "It's time he -took a pull on himself." - -"It is, Meg." - -The storms pursued each other from dawn to the middle of the day. In -the space of moments the sky would blacken, thunder would peal out -and a flare of lightning split the heavens. The rain would drum again -on the iron roofs. There fell lulls when Power idled on the verandah -looking over the country; but towards noon, when the sky was clear -for a space, he picked the way to the stables. The ground was filled -with pools of water, and the higher land was a morass. There was a -bitterness in the air that persuaded him to keep hands in his pockets. -He felt dispirited and on edge. - -When he pushed open the stable door Scandalous Jack was fussing round -the stalls. The big black horse was in a box, and near it a chestnut -horse of O'Neill's. Scandalous Jack stopped working with great -readiness and shouted salutations of the day. - -"Marnin', gov'nor, and a bad one at that! I reckon we'll be carrying -our swags to Surprise this time to-morrow if things don't take a pull. -Yer see I kept these two inside. They'll do better in than out, and it -will be a fool's game running horses for a bit! The black feller don't -look bad, do he?" - -"He's pretty well," said Power, looking the black horse over. - -"He's that!" shouted Scandalous, "and I was the man to do it. The lip -that woman gives at the house would make you think there was nothing to -do but run after her. I'll let her have it one day--her, and the gel -too, hot and strong." - -"Then you are a braver man than I am, Scandalous," Power said, moving -on. "Keep the horses in. They may be wanted." - -O'Neill kicked his heels in the yards at the back of the stables, pipe -in mouth and an expression on his face to match the day. Power nodded. - -"Pretty heavy fall," he said. "The river will be down by evening--and -pretty big too." - -O'Neill shook his head. "Do you reckon they are all right at the Pool? -There's times the water fills that channel behind them, you know." - -"They are right enough if Gregory knows his business. I've a mind to go -across in the afternoon if the weather lifts." - -Power glanced overhead. Another storm was spreading across the sky. He -started to return to the house. The day was quickly darkening and the -prospect looked dismal beyond contemplation. Half-a-dozen unoccupied -people loitered in sight, and the single patch of colour was where the -gins in brilliant rags smoked in the doorway of their hut. He went -indoors with the hump. Maggie was laying lunch in the dining-room. -"Twelve o'clock?" he asked. - -Maggie went out of the room. He fell into contemplation by the window -until Mrs. Elliott bustled in on a household errand and brought him to -his senses. - -"Don't moon about like that," she cried at sight of him. "Get some work -to do." - -"Find it for me," he said, turning towards her. - -Mrs. Elliott confronted him in battle array. "Mr. Power, it's time -you took a hold on yourself. This running to and fro every night in -the dark isn't no good to you nor to Miss Neville, nor to me for that -matter. You'll make a mess o' things soon and I'm old enough to be your -mother." - -"Perhaps the mess is made." - -"Now, Mr. Power, I'm talking straight. Things won't be too mixed to -put right if you start now. All men are the same and I know a deal -about them. They can get themselves boxed up as easy as sheep in a -yard, but they are not so quick at the untangling." Mrs. Elliott came -closer and grew confidential. She lifted a fat finger. "And I'll tell -you something more, Mr. Power. All gels are much of a kind too. You may -have a split with them, but if you go back and drop the soft word into -their ears you can get them kind again." - -Maggie came in with the dishes, and a moment after the storm burst -above the house. - -The women went out of the room and he began a solitary meal. The rain -flogged the iron roof. Presently Maggie appeared to change the dishes -and afterwards he was sitting before the finished meal listening to -the tumult and feeling too out of temper to light a pipe. On one thing -his mind was made up. He would ride to the Pool in the afternoon if he -was washed off the road in the attempt. The river would come down in -the evening. The family must be brought back and the world could wag -its tongue. He was getting the blues for ever debating on the child's -safety. - -Without warning the rain was snatched back into the sky. The sudden -silence confounded him. Then he threw back his head. Far away rose the -voice of tremendous waters. One deep note without rise or fall was -being played. He listened with all his might. He could not be mistaken. -The river had come down. - -He pushed back his chair and got to his feet. The verandah was a few -steps away. The storm was hurrying out of the sky and the day had -brightened once more. All over the country arose again the gentle -melodious cries of dripping waters. He leant on the rail by the -verandah steps. Now the thunder of the river was distinct, and among -the trees he saw here and there widening sheets of water. He had not -made a mistake. - -His depression left him in a moment. He began to think very quickly. -The river must have reached the Pool two hours ago. He had never known -such a sudden flood. By this time the water would be all over that low -country. The Gregorys would be without a home. What if the fellow had -proved a fool and taken risks? He must satisfy himself. He must go -without delay. - -He went inside again. He found his spurs and pulled on an oilskin. Mrs. -Elliott came running down the passage. - -"The river is down, Mr. Power. A regular old man flood." - -He answered walking past her. "I heard it. I shall be away in a minute. -I may bring back those people on the river. You had better have -something ready." - -"Don't dare bring 'em inside the place!" cried Mrs. Elliott, but the -door was shut on her words. - -As Power left the house a man on horseback was coming through the gate -of the homestead paddock. The horse had been pushed to the limit of -its strength. It breathed with sobs and trembled as it walked. The -rider rolled in the saddle. Man and beast were plastered with a coat of -mud. It covered them from the crown of the man's hat to the hoofs of -the horse. Then the rider spat clear his mouth and called out. It was -Gregory. - -"The river has come down! The gel is drowned!" - -Power felt a sudden rage seize him by the throat; but he answered in a -level voice. "What's that you say?" - -"The river's down. The gel's drowned!" - -"What were you doing?" - -"I was at Surprise with the missus. We was on a bit of a spree. We -wasn't back last night. I rode down an hour since. The river was down -then and the hut going to bits. The water had come round the back of -the place. There wasn't a sign of the gel. She'd have tried to cross -and got washed away. Aw, Gawd, what's to be done?" - -"Get out of the way!" Power said. He moved towards the stables at a -walk that was becoming a run. Scandalous Jack bobbed about the doorway. -"Saddle my horse!" he called out. - -Scandalous threw up his head in surprise. "You're not mad enough -to----?" - -"Saddle that horse!" he shouted. Scandalous bobbed inside. - -Power began to call out for O'Neill. The man came out of the doorway -of his hut. With common consent they ran towards each other. "Gregory -is here. The child is drowned!" The two men began to run faster and -towards the stable. "We might be in time. I am going now." - -Scandalous was coming out of the stable door with the black horse. It -threw its head this way and that, snorting loudly. Scandalous, very -full of respect, nursed his corns. Power took the reins. O'Neill was -running for a saddle. - -"Scandalous, listen to me. The river has come down at Pelican Pool. -There's been an accident. Gregory's girl may be drowned. I'm going -there now. Send Jackie after the buggy horses. You must bring the buggy -as fast as you can. Bring anything useful. Bring some rope. Bring -blankets. Bring whisky. Find Jackie now. Jackie!" - -He gathered the reins in one hand and put the other on the saddle. The -wind arrived and blew his oilskin into the air. The black horse sent a -blast from its nostrils and reared high; but as it came to ground he -was gaining the saddle. He picked up the stirrups and drew the reins -together. The wind was in his face. Far away, but loud, sounded the -roar of the river. The beast beneath him reefed at the reins. The small -paddock was covered in a score of bounds. He found he must use both -hands to check the animal. Pools of water splashed under them and the -mud sucked at its hoofs. Clods of earth leapt upon his back. The gate -demanded a halt. He pushed open the gate with his foot. - -The Pool was distant only a few miles; but travelling was so bad he -dared not force the pace. He left the gate wide open, and turned -towards the river. He took the reins in both hands. He bent his head a -little. A stream of lightning flooded the sky. A rush of wind hit him a -buffet in the face. The day began to darken. He felt the animal's mouth -with firm hands. It answered the signal. - -It plunged away, leaning hard on his hands. It was the most powerful -beast he rode, yet he hesitated to give it head. He knew the spur must -be used before the end of the journey. The country was a bog. Sheets of -shallow water covered the plain. It was a struggle to win a foot of the -rough ground. They rode for a spill. Every yard of travelling splashed -him to the top of his head. On the higher ground, uncovered by the -water, clouts of mud struck him behind. - -The day had turned black. Lightning poured out of the clouds. Thunder -stamped upon the sky until it trembled. Here and here a starved sapling -stood up in the water. There and there a broken tuft of spinifex lifted -up its sodden spikes. He looked once over his shoulder to see O'Neill -labouring half-a-mile behind. A second rush of wind, fiercer than the -first, beat him in the face. The new storm was about to break. - -He wondered what he was thinking of, and he found he was not thinking. -Instead, he was filled with a grievous sense of tragedy. He was late. -Once more he was late. He had left her alone to die. - -In the teeth of better judgment he tightened the reins and signalled -greater speed. A blaze of lightning tore the sky in half; the thunder -shattered overhead and the rains rushed out of the sky. He thought the -shock had thrown the beast off its feet. It propped on the instant and -swung around. Good luck and skill held him in the saddle. He strove to -turn it around, but it would not answer him. His nerves were worn raw -and his temper got the better of wisdom. He fell upon it with whip and -spur. - -It came round at last and began to thrust sideways through the -downpour. The rains scourged them. The water leapt from his shoulders -back into his face. The landscape was blotted out. In an instant the -lower half of him was wet through. He could not see. He could hear -nothing but the rain. He felt the suck and draw of the animal's hoofs -as it rolled along. Again and again the lightning thrust its arms about -the sky. He rode through the rain-burst for a very long time. Without -warning he passed out on the other side. The rain stopped, the storm -rolled behind him, the day grew bright again. - -He had covered most of the journey. The river was a mile away, but his -horse was done. He himself felt dazed and his clothes held him with -clammy fingers. The passing of the storm had left the world very still. -He rubbed the water from his eyes. Someone was ahead of him. A buggy -advanced to the edge of the timbered country. It contained only the -driver, who was crouched over the reins. He thought he recognised King. - -Something farther away than King arrested his vision. Half of the -journey had been made across a sheet of shallow water; but over there, -where the higher trees began, the water eddied and tossed, betraying -the edge of the river. He looked on the highest flood in his memory. -The timber concealed the great body of water; but far away on the other -side of the trees climbed the flood. A deep note came across to him; -the voice of the river hurrying to its marriage with the sea. - -He did not remember finishing the journey. He bullied a spent horse the -rest of the way. After a long time they reached the edge of the timber -where a minute or two before the buggy had come to a halt. - -He pulled up the horse beside the buggy. Mr. King had got down and was -standing in the water. They did not trouble to greet each other, and -he thought King looked out of his mind. They stood on the edge of the -flood waters. Half-a-mile away the body of the river roared on its -journey. In the intervening space the trees stood out of the sluggish -water shaking their damaged boughs in the wind. The shaded ways, the -quiet places had gone; there was no sign of Pelican Pool. - -His breath came back, and with his breath returned his presence of -mind. He forgot the man beside him and stared over the ears of the -horse. One by one old landmarks were picked up, and at last his eye -found the wreckage of the hut. It was a third of the way across the -river. The main body of water swept beyond it, but an arm of the river -had come in this way. Horror laid a hand upon his heart. - -A terrible cry rang out beside him. "My Princess! My Princess!" Mr. -King was looking at the hut. Of a sudden he began running towards it. -He ran stumbling a long way and stopped only when the water reached his -knees. He threw his arms before him and cried again in the terrible -voice: "My Princess! My Princess!" The roar of the river came back in -answer. - -Power touched the horse with his heel and it began to walk forward -through the water. As the depth increased, the beast snorted and threw -about its head. They had advanced a little way, when O'Neill overtook -them, and the two men moved side by side towards the broken water. - -Power believed now Molly Gregory was dead. The child had sat all night -in the hut after he had left her listening to the storms breaking -outside. No doubt she had been filled with fancies which had mocked -at sleep. To-day she had watched the water climbing towards her door -with greedy lips. She had fled at last in panic to the land, and the -blundering river had seized her in its arms. - -He believed she was dead, and here he sat on horseback guiding the -beast forward, holding it tight when it stumbled, avoiding the -driftwood, and bending his head beneath limbs of trees. She was dead -and he moved forward towards the body of the river, while the gentle -waves of this back channel crept up the legs of his horse so that now -they licked its belly. He did this calmly and with a cool brain. Was he -over quick at forgetting, or had too much sorrow defeated itself, as -one pain is cured by another? - -She was dead, but the three men that had loved her were still condemned -to use the eyes that had looked upon her, to employ the arms that had -supported her, to move the lips that had been pressed by her kisses. - -There came an end to the advance. A stone's throw beyond the halting -place began the current. The river swept on its journey with a high -tremendous cry. Far among the timber on the other bank brown currents -surged and boiled. Trunks of trees whirled down from distant forests; -rubbish from a hundred places hurried out of sight. The lesser trees -danced their leaves upon the waves. Like a barbarous giant the river -thundered to the sea. - -Somewhere in that yeast of waters the child's fair body hurried away. -From the tumult of the river it was passing to the amorous embraces of -a coral sea. The scarlet lips where so many men had left their kisses -would be caressed anew by the gentle lips of an ocean. By day and by -night that slender form would float on its final journey, peering into -the mouths of solemn caverns, stroked by the tresses of love-sick -weeds, secure from the greedy suns staring hungrily through the blue -roof, and followed by the curious moon as she looked to see what -radiant thing took its walk by dark along the ocean bed. - -The brilliant fishes would arrive to peer at this rare thing, the -loathsome octopus beneath his ledge of rock would hide his shame behind -a sepia curtain, and presently the brown pearl-fisher, descending from -his bobbing barque, would halt in wonder at a pearl larger and more -lustrous than all his toils had brought him. - -Where had fled the little soul? Perhaps as a tiny jewelled bird already -it fluttered through celestial fields, quick and charming and bright, -but a thing of small account. In that new country where sight was -keener, it would not again be priced above its worth. - -The flow and hurry of the river was drugging Power's mind. He broke the -spell by a jerk of the head, and looking behind him saw King not very -far away deep in the water. King was suddenly an old man. Power turned -to the horseman beside him. O'Neill stared at the broken hut. His head -was thrust forward, and he sat huddled in the saddle. The water had -climbed to the saddle-flap, and the ends of his oilskin played with the -waves. He began to speak at that moment. - -"I reckon I'd have a chance of getting across. I could go higher up and -beat the pull of the current." - -"You wouldn't," Power said. "And no use if you could. She isn't there. -We shan't see her again." - -"Gawd! I must go across! I can't stay here!" - -"It will do no good, Mick. She has escaped us." - -Power drew his horse beside the other man, for the clamour of the river -made speech difficult. He began to speak more intimately than ever he -remembered doing. - -"Once I loved her in a way it will be hard to love anyone else. Then -passion seemed to go away--somewhere, I don't know where; but she -taught me so much I shall never be out of her debt. She has made me -look on life with new eyes. - -"I have something to tell you. I was down here last night before the -rain began. She had been alone all day, and she was quite strange--so -serious. We talked about a lot of things, and I asked her which of us -three she loved. She said it was you. The three of us fought over her, -and in the middle she slipped away and it seems we have lost her; but -because she loved you, she left you her best behind. - -"We must go back and get dry. There is nothing else to do. To-morrow, -if the storms keep away, we can look for her lower down; but we won't -find her. Just now the world seems to have come to an end. Things will -be straighter in a bit, and we'll find there is something to be got out -of this. To reach for a thing and to get it may be good enough, but a -man grows quicker by stretching for the thing beyond his hand. We shall -always remember her as a fairy thing out of reach, and looking for her -to come again will help a fellow to growl less in the summer, give him -more patience to teach his dog manners, hurry him through the day's -work. Come, we must get back." - -Power brought his horse about. He heard O'Neill splash behind him. He -went across to King, and King turned up a haggard face. - -"We must get back. There is nothing to do." - -The three men began to splash towards the land. Two more buggies had -arrived on the bank. Scandalous Jack was getting down from one, and the -other was drawn by the white buggy horses of Surprise. The old man sat -in the driver's seat and beside him was Maud Neville. Power met her -glance across the distance. The three men reached the bank. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -THE MEETING BY THE RIVER - - -Power dismounted. He was full of tiny pains and the cold was beginning -to eat into his bones. Neville had pulled up the buggy near at hand. -The old man was plastered with mud to his shaggy eyebrows. - -"Hey, Power!" he shouted out. "What's become of the gel?" - -"We were too late." - -"Goodness, that's a nuisance! Get out, Maud, gel. I want to get down." -The two people got down from the buggy. "Now that's annoyin'," went -on the old man, feeling under the seat for his stick. "Nearly killed -ourselves getting here, too. I may be wrong, but I reckon the horses -won't be much good for a day or two, huh, huh! Here's what I was after. -It's looking a bit more settled over there now. The rain may be gone -for a while." - -Scandalous arrived across the mud. - -"Hold this horse," Power said. He delivered it and walked forward to -meet Neville. They had not met for many days and saluted each other -abruptly. - -"The gel's drowned after all, then, Power?" - -"Yes." - -"You would have thought a gel like her would find sense to look after -herself. No sign of her anywhere about?" The old man cast glances up -and down the bank. - -"We'll search lower down to-morrow." - -"Yes, I reckon that's all there is to do. It's not much use hanging -round here gettin' cold. The river came down pretty quick and pretty -big. Gracious! What's up with King! Goodness, he's badly hit!" - -The old man trotted away after King. - -Maud stood beside the buggy. She was looking at the river. Power found -himself watching her. She was wet through and blown about by the wind; -but her gaze was steady as it followed the rush of the current. Of -those who had hurried here in panic, she only was serene; yet the -schoolmaster had set her the severest tasks. It must be she was the -aptest pupil. Power tried to follow her thoughts. She was finding a -symbol in the river. It had rushed down with a great cry upon this -quiet place, snatching away the old landmarks. Its fury would wear out -presently, and over the wrecked country a kindly growth of green would -make its way. That was what she saw. - -Power fell into reflection. Two months ago he had found Gregory -sleeping a drunken sleep on the road, had taken pity on him and had -led him home. In the doorway of a shabby tent beside the river he had -seen Molly for the first time. Two months had gone by since then, and -for sixty days he had lived life more acutely than he had believed -possible. He would not wish to live life so keenly again. He seemed -to have travelled in every country. He seemed to have lived in every -climate. He seemed to have climbed every height and to have gone down -into every dark way. All books had been opened that he might look -inside. All strings of experience had been plucked that he might listen -to new notes. - -These two months were at an end, and there seemed no more countries -to visit, no more climates to test, no more heights to climb, no -more depths to descend. The books were being shut. The strings of -experience were growing mute. Instead of turning his ears to siren -voices, he listened again to the speech of everyday. In place of fields -of asphodel, he trod again the highway. It was time to see where he -stood--to add up gains and subtract losses. - -Strange that the metal must pass through the fire before the artificer -will receive it. Strange that a man must experience sorrow before -wisdom will shape him to its ends. Yet such burnings need not be -considered punishment, such sorrow need not be counted degradation. - -He had served his apprenticeship to love and now might call himself -craftsman. He knew where to chisel with his tools--not in the poor -material of the human body, but in the enduring fabric of the spirit. -He had learned this craft, and the fee of apprenticeship had been that -he had put aside unrecognised the finest material that would come under -his hand. - -He came out of his reverie and found Maud watching him. He went towards -her through the pools of water. - - . . . . . . - -My tale is told. While nine months have been wearing out, I have come -back, night by night, to this tent, a scribe who would beguile the -hour with the telling of a story. The tale is told to the last word. -Put down the pen; run in the horses and saddle up. It is time to seek -new places. The railway line creeps across the plain to Surprise; and -growth and change will fall upon the camp to devour it. Take down the -tent, fill up the tucker-bags and load the pack-horse. It is time to be -gone. - - -W. C. Penfold & Co. Ltd., Printers, 183 Pitt Street, Sydney. - - - - -_November, 1917._ - -_Just Published._ - - -_By Zora Cross._ _Just published._ - - SONGS OF LOVE AND LIFE. With additional poems and portrait, 7½ - × 6 inches, 5/-. - -_By Sydney De Loghe._ _Just published._ - - PELICAN POOL: an Australian novel by Sydney De Loghe, author of - "The Straits Impregnable." Crown 8vo. cl. 5/-. - - -_By A. B. Paterson._ _Just published._ - - THREE ELEPHANT POWER, and Other Stories. 7½ × 6 inches, 4/-. - - -_John Shirlow._ _Just published._ - - ETCHINGS CHIEFLY OF VIEWS IN MELBOURNE AND SYDNEY, reproduced by - the intaglio process. Picture boards, 2/6. - - -_By C. J. Dennis._ _23rd thousand._ - - THE GLUGS OF GOSH. With frontispiece and title-page in colour by - Hal Gye. - - Ordinary Edition, 7½ × 6 inches, 4/-. - - Pocket Edition for the Trenches, 5¾ × 4½ inches, 4/-. - - Blue Wren Edition, with 6 additional full-page plates in colour, - handsomely bound, 7½ × 6 inches, 7/6. - - -_By Leon Gellert._ _8th thousand._ - - SONGS OF A CAMPAIGN. Fourth edition, with 25 additional poems, and - 16 pictures by Norman Lindsay, 7½ × 6 inches, 4/-. - - -_By May Gibbs._ _12th thousand._ - - GUM-BLOSSOM BABIES. An Australian Booklet, with coloured and other - pictures, in envelope ready for posting, 1/-. - - -_By May Gibbs._ _12th thousand._ - - GUM-NUT BABIES. An Australian Booklet, with coloured and other - pictures, in envelope ready for posting, 1/-. - - -SYDNEY: ANGUS & ROBERTSON LTD - - -_By C. J. Dennis._ _64th thousand._ - - DOREEN: A Christmas Story in Verse. With coloured and other - illustrations by Hal Gye. In envelope ready for posting, 1/-. - - -_By C. J. Dennis._ _74th thousand._ - - THE SONGS OF A SENTIMENTAL BLOKE. With coloured and other - illustrations by Hal Gye. - -Ordinary Edition, 7½ × 6 inches, 4/-. - -Pocket Edition for the Trenches, 5¾ × 4¼ inches, 4/-. - - -_By C. J. Dennis._ _44th thousand._ - - THE MOODS OF GINGER MICK. With coloured and other illustrations by - Hal Gye. - -Ordinary Edition, 7½ × 6 inches. 4/-. - -Pocket Edition for the Trenches, 5¾ × 4½ inches, 4/-. - - -_By Will H. Ogilvie._ _7th thousand._ - - THE AUSTRALIAN, and Other Verses. With coloured frontispiece and - title-page by Hal Gye. - -Ordinary Edition, 7½ × 6 inches, 4/-. - -Pocket Edition for the Trenches, 5¾ × 4½ inches, 4/-. - - -POCKET EDITIONS FOR THE TRENCHES. - -Size 5¾ × 4½ inches. Each volume with frontispiece and title-page -in colour, price 4/-. - - THE GLUGS OF GOSH. By C. J. Dennis. Illustrated by Hal Gye. - - THE SONGS OF A SENTIMENTAL BLOKE. By C. J. Dennis. Illustrated by - Hal Gye. - - THE MOODS OF GINGER MICK. By C. J. Dennis. Illustrated by Hal Gye. - - THE AUSTRALIAN, AND OTHER VERSES. By Will H. Ogilvie. Illustrated - by Hal Gye. - - SALTBUSH BILL, J.P., AND OTHER VERSES. By A. B. Paterson. - Illustrated by Lionel Lindsay. - - THE MAN FROM SNOWY RIVER. By A. B. Paterson. Illustrated by Norman - Lindsay. - - RIO GRANDE, AND OTHER VERSES. By A. B. Paterson. Illustrated by - Hal Gye. - - -SYDNEY: ANGUS & ROBERTSON LTD. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pelican Pool, by Sydney De Loghe - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PELICAN POOL *** - -***** This file should be named 63238-8.txt or 63238-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/2/3/63238/ - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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