First in the Field Part 38

You're always bullying and insulting people. It's abominable. The man's working like a slave, and you're kneeling there and doing hardly anything."

"I'm blest!" panted out Brookes, with rings of white round the irises of his eyes.

Leather was panting too. His face looked corrugated, and he stood there bent down, frowning hard at the ground.

"It's shameful!" cried Nic. "I'm sure my father does not know you speak to your fellow-servants like that."

"My what?" roared Brookes furiously. "Do you know he's only a convict?"

"Yes, I do. But what's that got to do with it, sir? As long as he works and does his duty to my father, he's to be properly treated.

You're always bullying him. I've heard you ever since I've been home."

"Here! Where's your father?" cried Brookes, rising to his feet, and advancing toward the fence with a threatening look, while Leather bent lower.

"Gone on one of his rounds," said Nic, springing over the fence, and facing him. "I wish he were here."

"And so do I," roared Brookes. "Look here, young gentleman; don't you think because you've come home that you're to lord it over me. I'll have you to know that you've got to beg my pardon, insulting me before that lazy, lying, idle convict, you miserable young whippersnapper!"

"What!" said Nic, beside himself now with pa.s.sion. "How dare you! How dare you speak to me like that! Insult you--you common, foul-mouthed bully. Go on with your work, sir. I'm your master's son, and if I'd a horsewhip here instead of this gun, I'd lay it across your back."

Brookes stooped, picked up the brush viciously, and rolled up his sleeves.

"Oh," he cried; "that's it, is it? Horsewhip me, eh? We'll soon see about that. Here, you convict."

"Do you want me to strike you?" cried Nic.

"Yes; you'd better," growled the man, dropping on his knees. "We'll soon see about that. Here, you, bring me another sheep."

"No. Stop!" cried Nic, turning to Leather, who was bringing on the sheep; "let him fetch them for himself. While my father's away I'm master here. Go away. You shall not be bullied like that, whatever you have done. Go and find some other work amongst the sheep."

Leather looked at him strangely.

"You heard what I said," cried Nic.

"Yes, sir," said the man, in a husky voice.

"Then go at once. Nic was treating you worse than he would dare to treat a dog."

Brookes banged down the brush and rose to go.

"You stop," cried Nic. "My father said those sheep must be dressed to-day, and you know it. Finish them, every one."

Brookes dropped upon his knees again.

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Leather quietly. "It is very hard work for one man. I'm used to this sort of thing. Hadn't I better stay?"

"No," said Nic firmly. "You heard my orders. Go." He pointed across the enclosure, and Leather went without a word.

"Now," said Nic, "finish those sheep."

Brookes muttered low threat after threat of what he would do, but he went on dressing the sheep; and Nic turned, walked back to the house, altered his mind, and went right away toward the bush, but his nerves were all of a quiver, as he thought over the meeting to come with his father, and he did not fire his gun that day.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

LEATHER'S OTHER SIDE.

"Well, Nic, what does all this mean?" said the doctor on the following day. "Brookes has been complaining to me that he was busy yesterday dressing those sheep, when he found Leather, as they call him, my a.s.signed servant, lazy, careless, and insolent. He was speaking to him rather sharply, when you suddenly appeared from behind the fence, flew in a pa.s.sion, abused him, defended the other man, talked in a way that would make Leather disobedient in the future, and finally ordered the man to go away and leave Brookes to do all the work himself. Now then, my boy, is this true?"

"Well, about half of it, father."

"I'm sorry to hear it, Nic, though I'm glad you are so frank," said the doctor, rather sternly. "You own to half. Now how much of the other half would be true if judged by an impartial observer?"

"I don't think any of it, father."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the doctor. "This is a great pity, my boy. I cannot have dissension here at the station. Brookes is a valuable servant to me, where men with a character are very scarce. He is, I know, firm and severe to the blacks and to the convict labourers I have had from time to time, and I must warn you these a.s.signed servants are not men of good character. Has this Leather been making advances toward you, and telling you some pitiful tale of his innocency to excite your compa.s.sion?"

"Oh no, father," cried Nic. "He has been as distant and surly to me as could be."

"Ah! There you see! The man is not well behaved."

"He works well, father, and was doing his best; but Brookes does nothing but bully and find fault, and he went on so yesterday at the poor fellow that at last I felt as if I couldn't bear it, and--and I'm afraid I got in a terrible pa.s.sion and talked as if I were the master."

"I repeat what I said, Nic. I am very sorry, and I must ask you to be more careful. You say you played the master?"

"Yes, father."

"Very badly, my lad. He is a poor master who cannot govern his temper.

Men under you always respect quiet firmness, and it will do more in ruling or governing than any amount of noisy bullying. There, I am not going to say any more."

"But you don't know, father, how cruelly he uses Leather."

"Neither do you, Nic, I'm afraid. You are young and chivalrous, and naturally, from your age, ready to magnify and resist what you look upon as oppression. There, be careful, my lad. I shall keep an eye on Leather and take notice for myself. As to Brookes, I shall leave matters to you. I do not ask you to apologise to him, but I should like you to run over yesterday's business in your own mind, and where you feel conscientiously that you were in the wrong I should like you to show Brookes that you regret that portion of what you said. One moment, and I've done. I want you to recollect that he is a man of fifty, while you are only about sixteen. Do we understand each other?"

"Oh yes, father," cried the boy, earnestly.

"Then that unpleasant business is at an end. Did you get your specimens yesterday?"

"No," cried Nic; "the quarrel yesterday upset me, and I could only go and wander about in the bush thinking about it. I did not shoot a bird."

"Then go and make up for it to-day," said the doctors smiling.

"But," said Nic, hesitating, "don't you want me, father--to begin work?"

"Yes, by-and-by; not yet. I should like you to have your run about the place for a week or two more--or a month, say. It will not be waste time. You cannot see what is going on about a station like this without learning a great deal that will be invaluable by-and-by. Of course I shall take you with me for a few runs or rides. By the way, did they finish emptying the waggon?"

"Oh yes, father; I saw that done, and kept account of the packages that came over in the _Northumbrian_. I didn't know the rest."