First in the Field Part 19

He'll be waiting breakfast for me, and--Ugh! how cold!"

Nic involuntarily turned his head to gaze in the direction of the trees where the fire was blazing, uttered a faint cry of surprise and horror, and turned and dived off the bank into the hole, to feel quite an electric shock run through him, while the water thundered in his ears, and he formed a graceful arch in the depths.

Out popped his head directly, yards away from where he had taken his header, and he began to swim with a calm, vigorous stroke right away for the middle, gazing sideways the while and muttering to himself as he saw that the object which had startled him, shamefaced, into seeking the protection of the water, had walked close to the edge, taken up his favourite, crane-like att.i.tude, and was watching him swim, with his lips drawn from his teeth and displaying them in a broad grin.

It was something after the fashion of a conjuring trick. One moment a white figure had stood there in the dawning day; the next there was a loud splash, the white figure had disappeared, and a black one stood in its place, not in the least ashamed, though almost as nude as Nic. For the black had followed, stood watching, and studied with great enjoyment the appearance of one of his white masters wearing the natural garb which he himself generally affected.

There were neither crocodiles, alligators, nor serpents in the water now, so far as Nic's fancy was concerned. After the first plunge his whole nature had awakened to a sense of vigorous vitality. The sharp touch of the electric water sent thrill after thrill of energy through him, and he swam half across the river-hole, and turned back feeling as active as an eel.

"Here, who's to get out and dress with that fellow staring at me?"

thought Nic, as he neared the black. "I shall have to stop in till he goes. Hi! you, sir! Be off!"

The black's grin ceased, and he turned and fled, while Nic sprang out, had a vigorous rub, began to glow, and then dressed, to run back to the waggon as hard as he could go, finishing off his head the while.

Five minutes after his short hair had obeyed the comb, he made for the fire, where a pleasant odour saluted his nostrils, and he felt that he must have made a mistake or been deceived.

But no: it was a fact. Brookes and Leather had been busy. Hot bread was waiting, and crisp, brown slices of bacon were fizzling in the pan.

"Ready?" said the doctor; and then the boy started, for these words followed: "Have a good swim?"

"Yes, father--glorious."

"Water cold?"

"Yes; but I'm all of a glow now."

"Take your tea."

Nic took the big tin mug.

"Damper?"

"Oh no, father; I had a thorough good rub."

"I said damper."

"Yes, father, I know. Only my hair--just a little."

"He dunno what you mean, sir," said Brookes with a chuckle, as he waited to take the men's share of the breakfast away.

"Oh, I see," said the doctor, laughing. "Have some hot bread with your bacon, Nic? We call this cake damper."

Nic did not mind what they called it, and he took his portion and his rasher of hot bacon, and he repeated the action with the greatest of pleasure, sipping at intervals from the milkless contents of his big tin mug without once regretting the absence of milk or cream.

Memorandum. Ride for many hours over the luxuriant downs on a clear day, when the air is laden with the health-giving odours of the gum trees, lie down tired out, and sleep with your slumber appearing to last one minute, but enduring for eight hours; lastly, have a plunge in a clear water-hole, and after a brief swim a tremendous rub, and you will be ready to perform as satisfactorily over the _al fresco_ breakfast and do it as much justice as Dominic Braydon.

"A little more, Nic?" said his father.

"Yes, please."

Nic said that twice; and a little while after, as a recollection came suddenly back:

"I say, father, are there any crocodiles or dangerous things in these rivers?"

"If there were, do you think I should have sent you to bathe?" was the reply.

"Oh no, of course."

"There are plenty, I believe, up north, where the rivers are always open right to the sea; but never here."

"But fish, father?"

"Oh yes, there are fish, princ.i.p.ally what they call here the black-fish.

You'll have to try for them by-and-by."

"Very big?" asked Nic, who was thinking of his bath.

"Oh no; small fish, but delicious eating. Now then, any more?"

"No, thanks, father."

"Then go and feed the dogs. We start in a quarter of an hour. One moment. Do you feel very stiff?"

"Stiff?--well, yes, a little, father."

"Not very bad, then. How do you feel about a trot to-day?"

"I'll--I'll try, father. Look--look!"

The boy jumped up in his excitement, for there was a whirring of wings, a burst of screaming, and a flock of birds flew over their heads, with the plumage looking in the morning light as white as snow.

"c.o.c.katoos?" cried Nic wildly.

"Yes," said his father, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm over what was one of the commonest sights to him. "I have seen them before. Now then, breakfast for our prisoners. I shall be glad when we can let those dogs run free."

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

HOW TO RIDE.

"Poor old chaps!" cried Nic, as the dogs leaped and tore about when he left them, each straining at its collar with starting eyes, and uttering in unison a piteous howl which could only bear one interpretation:

"Oh, I say, it's too bad! Don't keep us tied up like this."

Nic was ready to pity them again a few minutes after, when, in obedience to a shout and the crack of a whip, the sleek oxen, which stood yoked, blinking and chewing their cuds, started for the day's march, tightening the dogs' chains. Then the collies sulkily allowed themselves to be dragged along by the neck for a few yards before, feeling that resistance was in vain, they gave up and began to start barking in protest, running forward as far as their chains would allow under the waggon, as if longing to get at the oxen's heels, and finally, after a loud yelp or two at one another, settling down to their prisoners'

tramp.

The horses were bridled and saddled after Nic had taken his gun from where it had been stood against a tree. The two men were in front of the team, with Brookes talking loudly and unpleasantly to his fellow; and the black was following behind the dogs, with his spear over his shoulder, at times lowering it to stir the dogs up behind whenever they showed an inclination to hang back.