A Little Bush Maid Part 28

"Let's tell Billy!"--and off went Norah at a gallop.

She returned a few minutes later, slightly crestfallen.

"Billy must be asleep," she said. "I couldn't get an answer. Lazy young n.i.g.g.e.r--and it's still twilight!"

"Billy has no use for the day after the sun goes down, unless he's going 'possuming," her father said. "Never mind--the news will keep until the morning."

"Oh, I know," said Norah, smiling. "But I wanted to tell him to-night."

"I sympathise with you," said her father, "and, meanwhile, to console yourself, suppose you bend your mighty mind to the problem of getting away. Do you see any objection to our leaving for parts unknown the day after to-morrow?"

"Depends on Brownie and the tucker," said Norah practically.

"That part's all right; Brownie guarantees to have everything ready to-morrow night if you help her."

"Why, of course I will, Daddy."

"And you have to get your own preparations made."

"That won't take long," said Norah, with a grin. "Brush, comb, tooth-brush, pyjamas; that's all, Dad!"

"Such minor things as soap and towels don't appear to enter into your calculations," said her father. "Well I can bear it!"

"Oh, you silly old Dad! Of course I know about those. Only Brownie always packs the ordinary, uninteresting things."

"I foresee a busy day for you and Brownie tomorrow," Mr. Linton said.

"I'll have a laborious time myself, fixing up fishing tackle--if Jim and his merry men left me with any. As for Billy, he will spend the day grubbing for bait. Wherefore, everything being settled, come and play me 'The Last Rose of Summer,' and then say good-night."

Norah was up early, and the day pa.s.sed swiftly in a whirl of preparations. Everything was ready by evening, including a hamper of monumental proportions, the consumption of which, Mr. Linton said, would certainly render the party unfit for active exertion in the way of fishing. Billy's delight had made itself manifest in the broad grin which he wore all day while he dug for worms, and chased crickets and gra.s.s-hoppers. The horses were brought in and stabled overnight, so that an early start might be made.

It was quite an exciting day, and Norah was positive that she could not go to sleep when her father sent her off to bed at an unusually early hour, meeting her remonstrances with the reminder that she had to be up with, or before, the lark. However, she was really tired, and was soon asleep. It seemed to her that she had only been in this blissful condition for three minutes when a hand was laid on her shoulder and she started up to find daylight had come. Mr. Linton stood laughing at her sleepy face.

"D'you mean to say it's morning?" said Norah.

"I've been led to believe so," her father rejoined. "Shall I pull you out, or would you prefer to rise without a.s.sistance?"

"I'd much prefer to go to sleep again--but I'll tumble out, thank you,"

said his daughter, suiting the action to the word. "Had your bath, Daddy?'

"Just going to it."

"Then I'll race you!" said Norah, s.n.a.t.c.hing a towel and disappearing down the hall, a slender, flying figure in blue pyjamas. Mr. Linton gave chase, but Norah's start was too good, and the click of the lock greeted him as he arrived at the door of the bathroom. The noise of the shower drowned his laughing threats, while a small voice sang, amid splashes, "You should have been here last week!"

Breakfast was a merry meal, although, as Norah said, it was unreasonable to expect anybody to have an appet.i.te at that hour. Still, with a view to the future, and to avoid wounding Mrs. Brown too deeply, they made as firm an attempt as possible, with surprisingly good results. Then brief good-byes were said, the pack scientifically adjusted to the saddle on the old mare, and they rode off in the cool, dewy morning.

This time there was no "racing and chasing o'er Cann.o.bie Lea" on the way to Anglers' Bend. Mr. Linton's days of scurrying were over, he said, unless a bullock happened to have a difference of opinion as to the way he should go, and, as racing by one's self is a poor thing Norah was content to ride along steadily by her father's side, with only an occasional canter, when Bobs pulled and reefed as if he were as anxious to gallop as his young mistress could possibly be. It was time for lunch when they at length arrived at the well-remembered bend on the creek.

The horses were unsaddled and hobbled, and then turned out to wander at their own sweet will--the shortness of the hobbles a guarantee that they would not stray very far; and the three wanderers sat on the bank of the creek, very ready for the luncheon Mrs. Brown had carefully prepared and placed near the top of the pack. This despatched, preparations were made for pitching camp.

Here luck favoured them, for a visit to their former camping place showed that tent poles and pegs were still there, and uninjured--which considerably lessened the labour of pitching the tents. In a very short time the two tents were standing, and a couple of stretchers rigged up with bags--Mr. Linton had no opinion of the comfort of sleeping on beds of leaves. While her father and Billy were at this work, Norah unpacked the cooking utensils and provisions. Most of the latter were encased in calico bags, which could be hung in the shade, secure from either ants or flies, the remainder, packed in tins, being stowed away easily in the corner of one of the tents.

When the stretchers were ready Norah unpacked the bedding and made their beds. Finally she hung the tooth-brushes to the ridge poles and said contentedly, "Daddy, it's just like home!"

"Glad you think so!" said Mr. Linton, casting an approving eye over the comfortable-looking camp, and really there is something wonderfully homelike about a well-pitched camp with a few arrangements for comfort.

"At any rate, I think we'll manage very well for a few days, Norah. Now, while Billy lays in a stock of firewood and fixes up a 'humpy' for himself to sleep in, suppose you and I go down and try to catch some fish for tea?"

"Plenty!" laughed Norah.

It soon became evident that Anglers' Bend was going to maintain its name as a place for fish. Scarcely was Norah's line in the water before a big blackfish was on the hook, and after that the fun was fast and furious, until they had caught enough for two or three meals. The day was ideal for fishing--grey and warm, with just enough breeze to ripple the water faintly. Mr. Linton and Norah found it very peaceful, sitting together on the old log that jutted across the stream, and the time pa.s.sed quickly. Billy at length appeared, and was given the fish to prepare, and then father and daughter returned to camp. Mr. Linton lit the fire, and cutting two stout forked stakes, which he drove into the ground, one on each side of the fire, he hung a green ti-tree pole across, in readiness to hold the billy and frying-pan. Billy presently came up with the fish, and soon a cheery sound of sizzling smote the evening air. By the time that Norah had "the table set," as she phrased it, the fish were ready, and in Norah's opinion no meal ever tasted half so good.

After it was over, Billy the indispensable removed the plates and washed up, and Norah and her father sat by the fire and "yarned" in the cool dusk. Not for long, for soon the little girl began to feel sleepy after the full day in the open air, and the prospect of the comfortable stretcher in her tent was very tempting. She brushed her hair outside in the moonlight, because a small tent is not the place in which to wield a hairbrush; then she slipped into bed, and her father came and tucked her up before tying the flap securely enough to keep out possible intruders in the shape of "bears" and 'possums. Norah lay watching the flickering firelight for a little while, thinking there was nothing so glorious as the open-air feeling, and the night scents of the bush; then she fell asleep.

"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho!!"

A cheeky jacka.s.s on a gum tree bough fairly roared with laughter, and Norah woke up with a violent start. The sunlight was streaming across her bed. For a moment she was puzzled, wondering where she was; then the walls of the tent caught her eye, and she laughed at herself, and then lay still in the very pleasure of the dewy morning and the wonderful freshness of the air. For there is a delight in awaking after a night in the open that the finest house in the world cannot give.

Presently the flap of the tent was parted and Mr. Linton peeped in.

"Hallo!" he said, smiling, "did the old jacka.s.s wake you? I found him as good as an alarum clock myself. How about a swim?"

"Oh--rather!" said Norah, tumbling out of bed. She slipped on a jacket and shoes, and presently joined her father, and they threaded their way through the scrub until they came to a part of the creek where a beach, flat and sandy, and shelving down to a fairly deep hole, offered glorious bathing. Mr. Linton left Norah here, and himself went a few yards farther up, round a bend in the creek.

At the first plunge the water was distinctly cold, but once the first dip was taken Norah forgot all about chilliness, and only revelled in the delights of that big pool. She could swim like a fish--her father had seen to that in the big lagoon at home. Not until Mr. Linton's warning voice sang out that it was time to dress did she leave the water, and then with reluctance.

A brisk rub down with a hard towel and she rejoined her father. He cast an approving look at her glowing face.

"Well, you look as if you'd enjoyed your swim," he said.

"Oh it was lovely, Daddy! Did you have a good bathe?"

"Yes--I struck a very good place--deep enough to dive in," her father answered. "Not that I counsel diving altogether--you strike such a lot of mud at the bottom--soft, sticky, black mud! I spent most of my bathe in getting myself clean after my dive! Still, I had a good swim, notwithstanding. I say, Norah, I'm ready for breakfast."

"So am I," said his daughter. "I hope Billy's got the fish on!"

However, there was no sign of the black retainer when they reached the camp. The fire was blazing and the billy boiling, but of the other Billy no trace existed.

"He's gone after the horses," Mr. Linton said. "I told him to see to them--but he ought to be back. I hope they're all right. Well, you get dressed, Norah."

By the time Norah's toilet was completed the fish, under Mr. Linton's supervision, were in the pan, and she hurried to set out the breakfast things. They were just beginning breakfast when the sound of hoofs was heard and Billy rode into the clearing on his own pony, with evident signs of perturbation on his ebony face.

"What's up, Billy?" Mr. Linton asked sharply.

"That feller pack-mare," Billy said briefly. "Broken hobbles--clear out.

Plenty!" He produced a hobble as he spoke, the broken leather telling its own tale.

Mr. Linton uttered an exclamation of anger.

"That comes of not seeing to the hobbles myself," he said sharply. "No sign of her?"